BattleTech - The Board Game of Armored Combat
BattleTech Player Boards => Fan Fiction => Topic started by: Chris OFarrell on 08 July 2018, 18:25:35
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So I've had this lying around my HDD for years now - I was originally inspired back when drakensis started posting the absurd yet absurdly awesome idea of a Battletech SI ... of a singing Texas class Battleship and wrote it a bit at a time.
I've never written an SI before and wasn't ever really sure about it - it's a whole new thing to me. To the point that the SI doens't even use my name despite you know, using my real name on most forums, just because I couldn't take it seriously for some reason when I did.
Also to note; this story is a straight up, unapologetic FEDCOM, ****** YEAH! story. As while they don't get everything their way all the time, it was a bit of a reaction to the fact that various people clearly made the decision to use it and its successor states as a punching bag from the 3040s onwards while blatantly handwaving the crap out of other powers by nerfing it in every possible way ... so yeah.
But a few people who knew about it have poked me to post it over time and others I ran it past encouraged me to post it. So I did so on SB and got a quite approving reaction, so I thought I'd also post it over here.
This is Book 1 of what I plan to be 5 books in total.
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Chapter 1. Spun out of Quantum Bullshit.
For a lot of people, there is a moment when you wake up from a dream where your dream is overlaid on the real world. You see things that aren't actually there – at least until you can kick the lights on, bring everything into sharp focus and your brain catches up with reality. I’ve noticed in recent years this happens a lot with me; I wake up and think there is a ****** spider dropping down on my head or something, wave wildly to bat it away while clawing for the light switch, then feel like an idiot afterwards. Also known to happen; muscle cramps. Especially if I’ve probably pushed exercise too hard. Really ****** annoying to wake up with your leg or foot cramping like a ******.
Still, it’s always just been just an annoyance rather than a fright to me – most of the time anyway. A half second of instinctive confusion and panic followed by my brain catching up and presto, hit the lights. Or in the event of a muscle spasm, gritting and swearing incredibly profusely and stretching it out.
So when I woke up feeling pretty extreme muscle cramps just about everywhere while tasting the colour purple, it wasn’t exactly something out of context for me to comprehend. At least for the first few seconds. But after a few moments as my eyes and focus tried to adjust as I took notice of a noise I vaguely realized was me screaming in pain, it dawned on me that this was actually quite unusual as left became up, right became a diagonal perpendicular to reality while up and down told me to go ****** myself.
Bit by bit it dawned on me through everything that something was horribly horribly wrong … and this was no dream, trapped in a hellish warped and twisted nightmare –
And then just as suddenly as that, it was over and I seemed to fall back into my bed. I gasped for air and promptly screamed in pain once more as my muscles continued to fire off randomly but through sheer willpower I managed to impose some kind of control and hold my body still by stretching out – which also seemed to cut out no small amount of the pain as my mind told my muscles to shut up and start behaving, I continued gasping for air, opening my eyes to look straight up –
Huh. This was not my bedroom.
I mean my bedroom wasn’t exactly small, but it wasn’t the size of a warehouse with bright fluorescent lights and bizarre things on the roof that looked like a massive array of aerials or dishes and what not, with thick power cables going everywhere. Struggling to sit up on my bed, my mind was furiously debating with itself if this was still a dream despite how real this felt – as that would seem infinitely more logical than what I was seeing.
Around me was my bed that I was sitting on, the back wall of my house behind – oh wait, it was falling down now, thankfully away from me. The chest of drawers next to my bed – ah good, my iPhone and iPad. I reached through the agony on a single thought; call help. Despite my muscles complaining very painfully again, sweating as I insisted my arm move I made it do so. I mean, I had no idea exactly what I would do; call the cops and insist that reality just flipped me off, but I certainly wasn’t operating on a level much beyond fight/flight right now. My hearing also seemed to be returning – didn’t even notice that it had gone- and I could make out some crazy klaxon going off and possibly the sound of people shouting as I finally managed to grab the phone and hit the home button through the pain.
No service. No WiFi. Joy!
I struggled myself to a sitting position – and then suddenly there were people around me. People in HAZMAT gear of a sorts waving all manner of stuff at me and shouting – and then it was all just too much and I collapsed back into the blissfully painless darkness.
My last brief thought noting how real this dream was…
***
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***
It was a full two days before I woke up. So I’m told anyway.
The first thing I heard was the steady ‘Beep … Beep … Beep’ of a heartbeat monitor. Just like the kind you see on TV. For a good five or ten seconds I had a deliriously happy moment of utterly forgetting the craziness that had taken place earlier without even really noticing the sound. Then I stretched and frowned as I heard and felt the sort of crinkle of plastic under a sheet that was definitely not my bed. Then the impact of that Beep-Beep-Beep came to me and ever so slowly I opened my eyes.
I was pretty clearly in a hospital. Glancing around I saw I had an IV in my upper arm, which was somewhat annoying but presumably pumping good things into me. Extending my gaze I did a quick survey of the room … which looked, rather unsurprisingly, like a room in a hospital. With all the sort of portable machines around the bed one might expect. And a nice window on the far wall letting in a cheery amount of light suggesting it was well into the next day. A private room it looked like.
Huh. Was not expecting that.
Groaning slightly as I belatedly discovered I felt as stiff and tender as if I had tried to run a marathon (or what I thought it might feel like, having never done anything as crazy as that) I forced myself to sit up slowly. As I did so, I noticed that the cheap hospital sheets common to such places were not there. Instead the sheets felt rather good. Like very high quality sheets...and the mattress itself actually felt surprisingly comfortable under. Not the ‘stiff as a board’ kind of bed that was typical of such places in my limited experience of them.
Well, I can see where the health department's budget is going these days…
Swinging my legs down to the cool vinyl floor I noted my IV was hooked into a bag on a stand that ran off the bed frame itself - but it was just hanging there and could be removed. I didn’t think it would be a very good idea to do so though; I just wanted to stretch and so I very carefully started to stand … and promptly flopped right back onto the bed as my legs buckled. With pain shooting from my feet to my head to punish me for trying.
Okay. That hurt.
Mental note, don’t try to stand anytime soon.
On the plus side, I could feel the horrible pain and my limbs were working, so I wasn’t paralyzed or anything. Always a plus!
The sound of a door opening behind me caused me to force the pain off my face as best I could and drag my legs back onto my bed in a sitting position on the bed.
“Good afternoon mister Smith” a man in what looked like pretty typical medical scrubs said, followed in my a number of other people dressed similarly.
The mans accent was … English perhaps? I couldn’t exactly pick it, but it was not mainstream Australian - if such an accent could even be said to exist anyway. Although it was hardly unusual for English medical professionals to run to Australia for a few years once the rain and cold got too depressing…
But no, English wasn’t quite right ...
“Good afternoon” I replied back, trying not to wince too much at the pain from my aborted attempt to stand up. Although it was I noticed somewhat dull in that way that I knew meant I was on painkillers. Which made me very glad; if it hurt this much on drugs I didn’t want to even think what it would feel like without them.
“Careful now. Your nervous system has been badly overloaded - in simple terms you suffered a major electric shock and corresponding strain to your neural system” the man said, striding quickly over to ease me back down before hitting some controls and causing the bed to shift up to a sitting position as others carefully pulled my legs back and eased me into the sitting position, checking the IV and otherwise fussing. “You’ve been asleep for two days while we dealt with the damage - and I’m pleased to say we’re well on the way to getting you back on your feet”.
“Oh” I blinked, feeling slightly shocked at that, the causal statement of the loss of two days of time like that. Thoughts about work, family and the world moving on crashing into me.
As if he could sense my thoughts, the man however raised a hand.
“After we check you out, we’ll head downstairs and talk about all the questions I’m sure you want to ask” he noted, retrieving a stethoscope that had been hung around his neck. “Now if you’ll just sit up and we’ll check you out?”
At that I glanced down - and tried not to blush at what I saw. Clearly someone had undressed me at some point and put me into hospital garb.
Well, might as well get it over with I thought with a sigh and leaned forward as the doctor efficiently pulled the back of my gown open via some well placed velcro straps...
***
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***
Next came an hour of poking, prodding and checking things. Asking me to do this and that with my limbs and joints in a systematic inspection from head to toe testing strength, reflexes, power and so on. I wasn’t given a clean bill of health exactly but I was told I was well on the way to recovery and, give or take a week, I’d be good as new. Which, I thought, was pretty incredible given that I’d apparently been zapped hard enough to hallucinate some really weird shit that had seemed so vivid at the time.
I did try to ask some questions about exactly where I was, but was told that all questions would be answered soon. And that given the possibility of nervous system damage, they didn’t want to ‘contaminate’ the memory testing that would take place shortly. That I should just stay as relaxed as possible.
It sounded rather absurd to me - but mentally I shrugged and went with it. It wasn’t as if I exactly had much of a choice anyway - having relatives as medical professionals had taught me well that Doctors, Nurses and specialists of all kinds were exceptionally good at ignoring their patients when they were not cooperating and demanding they just do as they were told. And the faster you just got it over and done with the faster you got out.
Soon enough I was in a wheelchair and being pushed out of the rather plain room. I kept looking around trying to find hints of which Sydney hospital I was in, but one hospital really looked like any other on the inside I suppose to people who didn’t actually work in them. Although, I did note that this building looked … well, new I suppose would be the best word? Almost like a next generation office space in a lot of ways with its glass walls, polished metal fixtures and styles with surprisingly little of the organized clutter I would normally expect.
Perhaps this is a private hospital? I wondered, although it seemed unlikely given that they didn’t really do emergency care work. But perhaps I had needed some kind of specialist treatment?
I didn’t have too long to wonder though, the trip was pretty short, just down a few passages to wide door at the end of a corridor. A small touchpad/flat screen combo mounted on the wall next to it (again not something I’d expect to see in a hospital) said ‘Conference Room 4-1A’ noting that the time was apparently just before two thirty and a meeting was going to run here for a few hours. Trying pathetically to straighten up and make myself slightly presentable- in a hospital gown with an IV in one arm- the door was opened and I was wheeled through by the Doctor behind me.
I looked around in some surprise as I entered the room. It was crowded with a lot of very serious looking men and women. At least what, twenty? More? The rectangular table in the middle of the room only had a dozen or so seats, meaning several people were standing clustered around the far end. Only a few were wearing hospital scrubs, most were wearing lab coats or even suits of a somewhat odd cut. One bizarrely even looked to be in what suspiciously looked like some kind of military uniform - but certainly not an Australian defense force uniform which was more than a bit confusing … and concerning.
I didn’t see any family members though and the sense of unease I had been feeling since waking up grew a little. At the least I knew they were safe; none of them had been in the house with me when I was asleep…
Presently after pushing me up to the nearest end of the long table which had been left open - presumably for me- and checking my IV with a reassuring smile, the Doctor handed over some paperwork to the man sitting opposite me on the table before quietly leaving and closing the door behind him.
“Mister Smith, welcome. My name is Doctor Charles Stewart - head of the neurological department” the older, somewhat dignified looking man said. “I apologize for the lack of information you have received thus far, but we wanted to be sure first and foremost of your health before proceeding. And it would appear” he noted, flicking through a number of printouts on the table, “that you are recovering and responding very well to treatment”.
“Glad to hear it” I responded, the uneasy feeling growing slightly at both the fact that this man also had the slightly ‘wrong’ accent … and the sheer number of people in the room watching me closely.
So I decided to get straight to the point.
“If you’ll forgive my directness; what the hell happened to me and where am I?”
“Understandable questions. In simple terms” Doctor Stewart said, leaning forward slightly before pausing slightly and then pressing on. “You were exposed to a high-intensity but highly focused and localized EM field. One that was generated as a result of certain highly-classified science experiments regarding … long range communications. The field was never, of course, meant to materialize around you and your bed while you were sleeping, but a chaotic event … well suffice to say, it materialized on you. Speaking frankly, it's something of a miracle you survived - let alone survived with no permanent damage”.
“...right” I responded to the man after glancing around the room and taking a note of the deadly serious expressions on the faces there as my sense of unease grew rapidly. I was hardly a scientist, but was wondering what in the hell kind of experiment could direct an EM field without line of sight over such a long distance (as I was emphatically sure there wasn’t any such facility anywhere near my house) and what exactly was being done with it-
Then, suddenly, the alarm bells started to ring in my head as the last thoughts of in my bed hit me with a terrifying clarity. In some kind of warehouse yet on my bed with part of my room around me and a wall that collapsed-
“The last thing I remember as I woke up after the … event … was seeing a massive looking warehouse or structure around part of my room” I said very carefully, my tension creeping just that more as several of the people exchanged glances. “As if it along with me had been sliced out of my house and transported somewhere else”.
It was utterly insane, but I said it anyway. Waiting for everyone to suggest that I needed to go lie down again for a while.
They didn’t.
The not-quite accusation hung there in the air for a good three seconds before finally another man, a somewhat younger man who couldn’t quite meet my gaze spoke up in a stutter-
“That … that is because, in essence, you and that part of your room were, um, well, you see -”
Doctor Stewart stepped in at that point with an annoyed look at the other.
“Our ‘communications system’ works, in essence, by opening a hole through space from point to point to send transmissions through. Due to a freak one in a trillion series of events, the system overloaded and became a bridge for not simply energy, but matter. You and everything in a flattened sphere approximately three meters in diameter and two in height, were, … well, transported here through that bridge”.
At that I blinked and worked my jaw trying to say something.
It was completely, utterly, absolutely insane.
And yet … the lack of straight answers, no family or friends when I woke up … and the utterly serious looks on the faces around me oddly convinced me that I had just become part of human history. The first man teleported? Yay me?
I tried to force myself to calm down with only partial success and only deal with the facts as they stood.
“Okay … “ I managed to swallow that and accept the statement on its face value as I again took a good long look around the room and started to slowly add things up. “Based on your accents, your slightly … odd ... sense of fashion and uniform I don’t recognize” I nodded at several people in a row and took the plunge. “I’m … not in … where am I?”
Then before anyone could answer my eyes bulged as the vivid memory of seeing my bedrooms back wall behind me go falling over. “Wait - my house, what happened to my house! And my-”
“Please calm down Mister Smith” a young woman with a sympathetic face sitting next to me cut in. Glancing at her I noticed that her tablet computer (an odd model I had never seen before that I’m guessing was some kind of MilSpec custom job, looking more like an older laptop than anything else) and it had what looked like medical readings flashing over it. I guessed she was somehow monitoring my vital signs on it - huh guess this wheelchair was more than just a seat. “You’re safe, everything is going to be okay. Please just calm down and listen” she said, reaching out to firmly take my hand. The sudden contact jolted me a little - but it also seemed to help ground me.
“Please” I swallowed to clear an annoyingly hoarse voice after a time. “My house? My family?”
“To the very best of our knowledge, both are perfectly fine. In fact they should not have noticed your departure”.
My brain gave a ‘Flat What’ at that and I looked around somewhat incredulously at the still utterly serious expressions directed at me.
“Give them some credit; I think they would kind of noticed a significant chunk of the house going missing with me in it” I bit back almost instinctively, clutching the arms of my wheelchair for some kind of support as much as I clung to the sarcasm as I wondered if I was utterly misunderstanding them on some level.
“Alright Mister Smith, the Truth” the military looking man finally joined the conversation with a deep, direct sounding voice.
“General, I don’t think-”
“He deserves to know what you people” -although from the tone of his voice I would have guessed he really meant ‘idiots’ - “did” he snapped, turning to face him. “Son they’ve told the truth, but not the whole truth. The … technology … we were using didn’t pull you from there to here. It copied what was inside the field, exactly to the quantum level, duplicating it inside an identical field in our laboratory. The original ‘you’ is probably completely unaware of what happened”.
“It … I … what?” I managed to get out - even though in a strange way, I found it horribly clear exactly what he was saying. Even as my mind screamed denial. “You’re saying … I’m not … I’m just a …”
‘Copy’ my mind supplied the word I couldn’t possibly say.
I’m not John … I’m just a copy of him … just a ****** copy ...
I heard the general still talking, vaguely but didn’t really pay attention. Everything just seemed to stop as the entire fundamental truth of my existence collapsed in on itself until from somewhere I heard my name being called (My name? Was it?) several times and I managed to drag my attention back.
“General, enough; you’re pushing him too hard!” the woman next to me protested, shooting him a look of pure murder as my mine chased itself around in small circles as I desperately tried my very best to ignore the implications to my life and my existence, before finally latching onto, rather pathetically and desperately, something in the phrasing.
“You said … said It’s been days since this happened. And you just said … you just said you think that I … me … him - the other me, is fine and the house” I managed to stutter out through the numb shock and disbelief raging in my head. “You think. How could you not know? I mean, I’m sure it's all over the news - a chunk of the house and someone inside it goes missing in the middle of the night, if it happened. And if it didn’t, you’ve had plenty of time to have someone go around and take a look! So why don’t you know?!” I finished in a half shout half sob half whatever.
I knew somehow, distantly, that I was just grasping at straws. And that it was even entirely possible that wherever I was and whoever these people were, they didn’t have ‘assets’ in place to go around and take a look at where I lived…
But I didn’t expect the answer they gave.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible Mister Smith” Doctor Stewart replied gently, shooting one final glare at the General, before taking a breath. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this - but I won’t like to you. The technology we were testing did not simply transmit across space … but also, in this case, seemingly uniquely across time. When you went to sleep two days ago the year was twenty fifteen … the year is now thirty twenty six. And you’re not on Earth anymore - this planet is roughly three hundred light years away from mankind's homeworld”.
“Oh” I responded. “Well … that would explain it, I guess”.
Then I threw up. Before passing out.
***
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***
So that was how I ended up in the universe of Battletech.
The next few months were, well, lets just fast forward through the five stages of grief? Denial was how I spent most of the time though. At first, Janace - who was my assigned therapist - had to try and get through my understandable shock and numbness. A regime of very advanced antidepressants and so on helped me, although it’s all still a bit of a blur in my memory. Mostly I was both simultaneously grateful that as far as NAIS knew, the ‘real’ me was still going fine without having noticed anything. Which also meant that no matter how much I missed them, my family and friends at least would be spared the horror of me simply vanishing one night with a chunk of my house forcing them to bury an empty coffin or something.
Eventually, I was was well enough to actually start to ask questions about the future … starting with why everything looked so suspiciously like the present to me rather than Clark’s law being fully in effect.
And so it was explained to me that science with a few exceptions had broadly remained much the same as it was in my timeframe - even if impressive strides had been made in applied engineering. I was not entirely convinced but finally I was sat down in a room for a history catch up … which had quickly made me blink and sit up in disbelief.
Because this ‘future’ sounded familiar.
Suspiciously familiar, in fact.
Unbelievably familiar, in fact.
Some part of me firmly in denial mode about all of this still kept my mouth shut at the absurdity presented to me. That I was not simply in the future, but had transitioned to a ****** fictional universe and was crashing at the New Avalon Institute of Science in the wonderful world of Battletech, in the best imitation of a Self Insertion fanfiction.
My knee-jerk denial (even if I kept my mouth shut my skepticism was clear) had lasted 24 hours more until Janice had taken me outside for a walk … and five minutes later I had stood there dumbfounded as a lance of Battlemechs (a Jagermech, two Enforcers and a Locust I recall rather vividly) casually strolled past when they got a green light as they threaded their way down the road to the College of Military Sciences.
My brain promptly went into an infinite loop chasing itself as it tried to determine if Occam's Razor made ‘someone with a ****** of money on Earth is simply replicating a known tabletop game after kidnapping me’ was more likely than ‘I transitioned to a reality version of an entirely fictional universe’.
I mean, one would require a ****** crapload of technology and countless billions of dollars and powerful people to put in an obscene effort to try and trick me for motives I couldn’t come close to guessing, far more assumptions and moving parts … but didn’t require what amounted to the impossible. That everything I knew about physics was wrong and somehow, a paper and tabletop work of fiction was now a real universe.
Then there were other fun ideas like me being in some kind of matrix VR world based on Battletech - but quickly I realized that if that was the case I wouldn’t be able to determine it anyway, so…
Then the next day as I was still clinging to the thin argument of a massive trick … I saw a dropship launch.
No actually, I saw about thirty of them launch, from the roof of the hospital where a nice little cafe was situated. From both a military sportport attached to NAIS and other more distant locations around the lights of Avalon City and Castle Avalon. It was spectacular, loud and in your face. On a scale of one to ten, this rated Michael Bay. And as the fusion drives briefly turned night into day across the entire region as the massive objects told gravity to go suck a higgs boson, the truth of my situation became oddly, calmly, undeniable.
I was in Battletech. Cira the 3025 era.
It sounded insane every time I said it, but there it was and here I am.
In the days that followed I consumed damn near Every history book I had scoured matched up identical to what I recalled - if far more detail, but this wasn’t ‘close’ or ‘near’ Battletech, but as far as I could tell, exactly matched it.
Still, I kept enough sense to keep my mouth shut because I needed to consider my position carefully - very carefully.
The one thing I could do and did do however was make it clear that I was not from their reality either. In discussions with a gaggle of various academics from NAIS, I laid out in detail many of the geopolitical and historical changes in my timeline from theirs, narrowing down some kind of divergence in the 1970s, well before I was born.
Which was to be frank a rather clear relief to the people talking to me, who had clearly been terrified of the idea of plucking me from their timeline and somehow having contaminated it in a butterfly effect.
And that solved, now there was just the small matter … of building a new life.
Medically NAIS were, as you would think, very good at what they did. And they dealt with the physical damage from my creation quickly enough. Plus even a few medical improvements of minor ailments which was nice of them to do - as well as massive testing to make sure I wasn’t going to be a Typhoid Mary, followed by vaccinations and more testing which I thankfully passed without incident. Somewhat disturbingly, I suspect that a lot of the scientists were sort of hoping for a medical reaction from my body to the vaccinations to examine the differences in physiology over a thousand years, but it seems my DNA was depressingly normal enough. Evolution didn’t seem to have left any surprises after all over such a short timeframe.
Material wise there was good news and bad news for me. The bad news was that I had very few possessions to my name anymore. My bed (which had been thrown out) and some things around it and under it had come with me - luckily a lot of my more sentimental items had been stored under the bed and had come with me, but few clothes or other bits and pieces.
But my iPad and iPhone had come through fine. Even better, my bedside draw had piles of cables and a couple of adapters for recharging them. Which, thanks to 21st century safety standards, had etched into the plastic the exact power inputs and outputs making it child's play for the NAIS School of Engineering as a sort-of apology for the whole ‘creating you and dumping you in a brave new world’ thing to slap together an adaptor for their standard ‘offworld travel power adaptor’ kit, so I could recharge the apple devices.
Although frankly, it was clear they mostly went to the effort of building a USB adapter because they really wanted to play with the ‘ancient’ computers … and were not expecting what I showed them.
Suffice to say they were stunned that my 21st century was building things like that! And more than a few seemed mildly exasperated and disheartened how a thousand years later in their timeline, well…
Anyway, after showing off the interface and some of the apps on it, said engineers immediately offered a rather large amount of cash for me to turn them over … but money was not an immediate issue. Someone high up - they wouldn't say who - in the Fedsuns had arranged a lifetime pension comparable to a living wage. Partially as an apology for my circumstances, partially as a ‘keep your ****** mouth shut’ incentive to neither talk about how I came into being or anything inside the NAIS I had seen.
And I accepted those terms rather quickly - last thing I wanted was MIIO thinking I was a security threat and that it would be quicker and cheaper to just toss me into a fusion disposal unit or something.
Anyway, I simply kept my mouth shut for now. And a couple of months of physical therapy and crash courses about the Federated Suns later, I was dumped at my cheap but clean and well stocked with history books apartment in downtown Avalon City to see what I could make of myself.
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Chapter 2: The Cake is (not) a lie.
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I settled in well enough over the next two weeks, unpacking into my smallish but nice enough apartment overlooking the Albion River I had been issued for the next year to help me to cover my basic needs. It had very little furniture; just a cheap but functional bed and a basic chair and table setup with some shelves here and there, but I felt that might have been deliberate. To force me to go out and interact to buy stuff and so on. Rather than just hide up in here.
Janice could really be quite ruthless when she wanted to.
I explored the local area as I brought some of the things I’d need, coming to grips with things like new chains of supermarkets selling both different and familiar food under different brand names. Although I found it both hilarious and heartwarming in equal measure that the Cola wars were still going strong between Coke and Pepsi 1000 years later, bursting out laughing upon seeing both product lines glaring at each other across an aisle, earning me some strange looks from other customers.
I shied away from thinking about the big picture, instead focusing on my more immediate needs. I picked up some equipment; a local cell phone that looked like distant steroid enhanced son of a Nokia 3310. Compared to my iPhone it was clunky at best and highly limited in the functionality (very much ‘future of the 80s’) … but this ‘civilian’ device beat out 21st century Milspec hardening. Seriously, it was rated for crazy levels of abuse to the point that extended warranties just weren't a thing!
I also picked up a computer terminal best described as ‘quaint’ compared to my gaming rig back home and got it set up. With my existing skills I was able to figure out how to use it quite quickly, although I found it was genuinely was a terminal with little local processing power, with a subscription based business model for access to various mainframes on the planet. It really reminded me of an old school Videotex/Teletex system, just with far rather better graphics.
Nonetheless I was dearly missing google after the first few hours. Cloud computing this was not. Internet it was not. Sigh!
Still it sufficed for my purposes as I continued to do my very best to not make a decision or address the elephant in the room.
My Knowledge.
Knowledge that in the hands of various actors could change the lives of trillions of human beings for decades to come, if not longer. With consequences I could scarcely imagine or theorize.
And it didn’t help I could see history ticking over simply by turning on my Vid.
Local TV was and wasn’t much the same as back home. WIth a mixture of entertainment, news, current affairs and sports. The ten dedicated Solaris channels were extra and NAIS hadn’t shelled out for that package for my vid. And if you thought the Brits were bad about stalking the Royal Family for news and scandals, you ain't seen nothing compared to paparazzi in the Neo-Feudal digital age!
All the major vid stations also had subsidiary stations on distant worlds and/or a whole web of alliances with local stations who fed reports up the HPG chains - some of it even useful. Predictably, a great deal of the real news at the moment was centered on the surprise military exercises Hanse Davion had kicked off, with talking heads either condemning it as an unnecessary expense of theater that risked more conflict, or praising it as a strong message to their enemies.
There seemed little doubt Liao and Kurita would already have a pretty clear picture on what units were being deployed from press reports alone ... but then I remembered that Hanse Davion had encouraged reporting on Galahad (and later Katrina on Operation Thor), making the Capellans and Combine go crazy with paranoia … only for nothing to happen as they played the ‘boy who cried wolf’ card in reverse.
And yet, perhaps selfishly, I had been going out of my way to avoid having to make any decisions about what I would do. I like to think I was simply frozen into indecision over the sheer scope of this; the responsibility of so many lives, innocent and not, who would be impacted by any action I took seemed to become more and more clear, the more I came to accept that this was real for me now.
But that all changed two days later.
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Three weeks had now passed since I left NAIS and I was still mostly spending the days exploring the city, playing tourist and feeling my way forward. Most recently I had spent a considerable amount of time going through the House Davion War Museum. It was, unsurprisingly, massive; with patronage from the ruling family and AFFS making it feel almost a temple to the Federated Suns martial might that the population went to worship at.
No, actually, that's exactly what it was come to think of it.
Even more cool, it had a number of real Battlemechs (very carefully disabled of course with their fusion reactors removed but otherwise authentic) that people could interact with. I had to wait in line for an hour before a retired member of the 1st Davion Guards sat me down in the Jagermech cockpit and it was a 50 pound fee … but it was totally worth it as it ran through a simulated engagement. Although I also wanted to have a go with the ASF simulator and Tank simulator, both were closed down while they were being upgraded, to my disappointment. Still, there were other things to geek out over. Example, the big dome shaped building in the middle of the museum? It housed an honest to god Union - albeit one with significant chunks of the outer hull opened up with this whole scaffold erected around it to allow movement in and out of the ship. It was pretty damn fascinating, let me tell you that. I mean, it's a real honest to god SPACESHIP I was walking all over! And I’m not too proud to admit that I totally waited in line to have my picture taken sitting in the Captain's Chair.
The displays celebrating the war history of the AFFS were extensive and reasonably honest. Even to the point of critiquing the AFFS’s poor showing in the earlier 1st Succession War - until Kentares had made them stand up and start fighting like real soldiers, with wall after wall of interactive displays showing enraged AFFS units blasting the DCMS off world after world. No more than a few scant words of course about how the DCMS had half collapsed out of shame when ComStar exploded the news about the massacre across the Inner Sphere. After all, that would have ruined the narrative of the horrified AFFS shaking it off and pushing them back with pure guts and determination alone!
Still, other displays were a little less one sided. Even the reunification war hall, while showing and talking up how brutally the Taurians fought using every dirty tactic in the book, acknowledged that the whole thing had been a mistake on the part of the Great Houses. Best of intentions and all that. With a significant chunk of the blame for the questionable war neatly foisted off onto House Cameron, who were conveniently no longer around to object.
There were also entire chambers filled with trophies of war. Everything from captured unit standards to pieces of equipment from enemies of the AFFS. Examples of everything from captured ISF sneak suits to a Capellan Thrush salvaged from the ‘Great Lee Turkey shoot’. Even a handful of examples of SLDF gear from the Pitcairn legions little shadow war with the infamous General Forlough were on display here, with a very much ‘david vs goliath’ vibe presented about that little side war. Although it really wasn’t hard to play the ‘white knights’ when you were up against ****** Forlough; his very name still a vile curse word in Periphery to this day - according to the displays. Apparently calling someone a ‘Forlough’ in the Concordant was a good way to be punched in the face.
Anyway, I didn’t just play tourist, I also was starting to work on some more practical things. For example, trying to learn French. I regretted I had forgotten pretty much everything from my years of learning it in high school - but it wasn’t a time critical activity either. As far as I could tell, everyone spoke perfect English on New Avalon, it was just that if you couldn’t speak French it pegged you instantly as both offworld and/or not a member of the nobility or upper-middle class aspiring to become part of it.
Today, after four hours of halting progress with various vid lesson tapes driving me nuts and the time around lunch, I finally decided to hell with it and decided to get some fresh air.
Davion Peace Park was a popular place for people to amble around in Avalon City. It was quite large, similar in concept to something like Central Park in NYC, just much bigger. It wound around the side and back of Mount Davion, separating NAIS, the Davion Palace and Avalon City proper from each other. It also served a dual role as a security barrier for the first two and was often the site of public ceremonies for the ruling family to present awards or announce policies.
Mostly though, it was just a public park.
There were large hillsides for families to throw down a rug and have a picnic or for kids to run around playing games on any number of sport grounds - or clamber over some pretty expansive and extensive playground equipment. There were areas for pets to be let off the leash to run free and lakes for people to play with small little two person boats and such. Inevitably there were any number jogger hoards, mostly in military PT gear it seemed, proudly wearing their units sweatshirts.
I had no intention of exercising though.
I had always enjoyed going to local parks to just sit and relax. Grab some lunch from a nearby joint, find a space and just clear my mind and put aside my worries with some comfort food in the fresh air. I’d never quite had this level of ‘worries’ to deal with mind you - but the theory was the same. So here I was, having finished my lunch and just chilling on a bench looking out on the artificial (but perfectly natural looking) lake that covered this part of the park. Watching as a people went rowing around in a number of quaint little rowboats and other recreational human powered craft. Married couples, dating couples, groups of family and friends. All enjoying their time here on Friday afternoon.
All utterly unaware how in forty years they or their children or their children's children would watch as their capital was turned into a massive wasteland by the ****** phone companies inbred evil step brother, petulantly raining fire and nukes from orbit because their vaunted clockwork soldiers were simply not good enough to defeat the battle hardened garrison below.
And the troops too, who were everywhere running along the numerous jogging paths wound through the grounds. How many of them would die in the 4th Succession War? Or the 3039 War? Would some survive these tests only to fall as the Clans came rampaging in or live to finally retire … and watch the aforementioned holocaust take place on the heads of their children and grandchildren, after Katherine Steiner threw the mother of all temper tantrums that irrevocably shattered the greatest nation since the Star League?
Unless of course, I decided to do something about it.
Sighing, I pulled a small rock from next to the seat and flung it into the water. It made quite a splash and then the ripples ringed out to have their short lived effect running into further ripples from other activity, all impacting and pushing and changing each other … it was a childish metaphor perhaps yet it seemed to fit my mood right now of the impossibility of knowing if actions taken for the best of intentions were going to make things better or worse. Or if in the long term everything would just even out to nothing.
This really was a hell of a lot easier on the tabletop-
“Good morning Mister Smith!”
Uh ...okay. That was unexpected...
Turning away from my brooding introspection, I looked up at … a stunning young woman. And oh boy do I mean stunning.
I mean think of a young Olivia Wilde as a blond and you’d actually be pretty damn close to who I was staring at right now.
“Good morning Miss…” I fished for a name to buy time as I tried to rally. Two different alarm klaxons were screaming in my head at the same time as she smiled and sat down next to me. After all, very few people knew me on this planet … and none of them looked like they had just walked off the set of New Avalons next top model.
Huh, wonder if that was actually a thing-
“Kym” she again shot me a smile of perfect white teeth as she sat down next to me just a little too close and I inched away, earning a slightly playful smirk and flick of her hair that made my heart jump involuntarily. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite”.
“I’m glad to hear that” I replied even as another four different alarms joined the cacophony in my head. Young, hot, blue eyes, goes by the name of Kym..
No. It couldn’t be … it seriously couldn’t be … could it?
“Kym…” I hinted carefully and she laughed lightly.
“Sorenson” she smiled at me with devastating dimples.
...crap.
“Ah. John” I held out my hand and she took it, trying to ignore the most pleasant spritzy perfume she was wearing as I wrenched my thoughts distracted by this stunning woman back into the crisis room where they belonged, thinking rapidly. Kym Sorenson - later Kym Sorenson-Hasek. MIIO agent and Countess. Future wife of Morgan Hasek-Davion, whom she had been assigned to watch before falling in love with him after establishing his ironclad loyalty. Unless of course I just butterflied that to hell by having Quintis or Hanse assign her to watch me instead of (eventually) Morgan. Although that wouldn’t take place for another year, would it?
Why? Why the hell was she here?
Almost immediately the answer came. The same reason as she was dangled in Morgan's path a year or so down the road.
Honeypot.
A test of loyalty. Or at least, how seriously I took my security warnings-
“Yes I know who you are” she nodded as she studied me - and clearly mistook the the panic in my eyes as my terror that she was about to ‘compromise’ my secret identity. “I was at NAIS when the … incident happened” she breathed in a secret sort of thrilling way. “I never had any chance to meet you in person afterwards and I’ve really wanted to talk to you”.
Her performance was flawless, I’d give her that. If not for the fact that I already knew who she was, well, I would have probably been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Even so, I knew what I was supposed to do. One. Stick to my cover story like glue. Two. Head home and report her at once to NAIS security via the number Janice had given me. Three. Understand it never happened.
Wasn’t a bad idea, Gods the butterflies that might result from this-
And then, all at once, as I was thinking about the disruption this could -had!- cause/caused, it hit me.
It was blindingly obvious really.
History - the future- had already been changed. By definition. Kym had just proved that. Perhaps only small changes thus far, but who knows what they might cause in the long run? Granted I could try to minimise them … but I could hardly guarantee them - and paradoxically I could only really exert influence to keep the future ‘as is’ by changing it anyway. And the right butterfly like this one could have second and third order consequences I couldn’t possibly anticipate.
And perhaps it was just pure hubris to to think I must.
Watching the lake again as the last of the ripples I had created faded to nothing … I finally came to the only conclusion I know I could have made. Perhaps I had just been pushing it off because I was scared of moving from the ‘certainty’ of the game universe I knew into the real world. Full of uncertainty. But it was increasingly becoming clear that said ‘certainty’ was little more than an illusion now.
So. What was holding me back?
Would I be willing to sit on this same bench forty or so years from now, watching as naval weapons fire rained from the sky on NAIS, Mount Davion and Avalon City, followed by hordes of fanatic toaster worshipers unleashing the mother of all tantrums over the fact that the human race didn’t bend the knee to their glorious ‘Master’ plan? Knowing I could have done something but refused to try?
Honestly, the answer was surprisingly clear when I put in those terms. Maybe i was just justifying the decision on some BS grounds … but almost without realizing it I made my choice and set the ripples loose with another stone cast into the water.
“Can I ask you a question Agent Sorenson?” I asked almost casually, regarding the lake and not daring to look at her as I irrevocably started down my chosen path. ”Why did you join MIIO? I mean, you’re a Countess. Your father is pretty damn rich from his business ventures. You’re young, smart, confident, connected and rather more than ‘pretty’. You could have easily gone into business. You could have joined the AFFS. You could have gone into politics. But you chose the path of a field agent. So … why?”
To tell the truth, I was actually interested in her answer. But there was also no question that I was really just trying to get her attention (and that of her superiors) in a direct yet -more or less- safe way by casually talking about things I damn well couldn’t possibly know.
Still, credit where it was due, it only took her five seconds of dead silence by my count to recover her wits and take up the gauntlet.
“Several reasons actually” she admitted freely, offering me a seemingly casual shrug as I turned back to face her. Kym’s gaze and presence were no longer ‘airhead’, but neither was her gaze suddenly deadly or super serious, affecting a studied nonchalance as if this was merely a mildly amusing turn of events.
Although from the way her eyes were utterly locked onto mine and not moving a fraction of an inch, I had the feeling that casually blowing her cover and identity wide open had gotten her complete and undivided attention. And yet, she was taking a refuge in an equal level of audacity to mine to deal with the situation, facing me on my chosen ground.
But then I shouldn’t have been surprised that someone personally tapped by Quintus Allard and Hanse Davion for critical spy work would be bloody good at it.
“My family actually has a proud and long history back through the centuries of working for the intelligence services of the Federated Suns” she continued, swinging around to straddle the bench and fully face me (and get her incredible pencil skirt covered legs in the ideal position to let her launch at me if she needed to, I tried not to notice). “I grew up hearing family stories of their exploits, of the unsung heroes who changed the course of history without anyone ever knowing and all that”. Then she actually laughed lightly, at herself. “Although to tell you the truth, when I was younger I got hooked on ‘skulk team’; a vid series about a fictional Rabid Fox team fighting week to week battles against Liao and Kurita. I must say I was pretty disappointed that on day one of our training we were made to watch an episode and then write down at least fifty things ‘wrong’ with it to progress. But then again” she tilted her head at me, “sometimes reality is stranger than fiction”.
“Or reality is fiction” I muttered, earning a curious eyebrow from her as I tried to think of how to approach this with her now that I had lit off a nuclear signal flare.
“Perhaps so” she nodded at me. “So Mister Smith, here we are. I think you know the questions I’m going to have to ask you now”.
“How?” I guessed and she rolled her eyes almost mockingly to heaven.
“Hardly” she chided me, crossing her arms “The fact that you know things completely impossible for you to know is, of course, rather interesting. And the ‘why’ is clearly to get the attention of myself and those I work for. Which leads us to the most pertinent question; What do you want?”
Somewhere in the Multiverse, a Shadow was giving her a standing ovation while a Vorlon facepalmed, I just knew it.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re as smart as you are stunning?” I asked her with a slightly wry smile.
“Frequently - but you missed your chance for me to practice my seduction techniques when you blew my cover, caveman, so it's too late for flirting” she sniffed, then proceeded to frown and crossed her arms in annoyance with a brief puff of air fluttering her fringe in a distracting cute way. “Which is really quite vexing actually; I spent most of the this morning on standby while we figured out if you were going to come outside where I could casually get to you in public”.
“Well I would offer to reschedule for tomorrow, but I have a guess that my free time might have just become slightly restricted. But to answer you question succinctly; I need you to deliver something to Ardan Sortek for me”.
“Ardan Sortek” she looked at me, her face clearly faintly amused at the idea of delivering something to Hanse Davion's closest friend and man with probably the greatest soft power in the entire realm. “Really”.
“Yes, really” I nodded before glancing down at my bag. “If I might just get it out of my bag?”
“Of course. But, carefully” she advised in a tone that was friendly - and yet edged with seriousness as she uncrossed her arms. Making no sudden movements, I reached down and unzipped the bag, feeling her gaze burning on my neck as I found what I was looking for and slowly, carefully, pulled out my iPad, her gaze following me the whole way (and, I suspect, some crack sniper somewhere up on Mount Davion too…)
“Do you know what this is?” I asked her as I started the iPad powering up.
“Your noteputer - I believe you called it an ‘iPad’?”
“Just so” I agreed, angling the screen so she could see easily. “The unlock code is six four three three” I showed her as it finished booting and she nodded once evenly.
“Well I’m sure it's a very impressive bit of hardware - NAIS offered you a considerable sum of cash for it after all. But why would Colonel Sortek want this?”
“It’s not the hardware in of itself” I explained, showing her carefully as I opened my ebooks and the single entry that was present. I had systematically transferred everything I could off it and onto my iPhone via BlueTooth (I left the movies and a few TV episodes there for space reasons, hopefully Hanse and Ardan would get a kick out of Game of Thrones), making room by deleting most of the applications on my Phone. Until such time as someone figured out how to transfer files onto a Battletech computer from these things, I had to carefully manage my space.
On the other hand, these two devices were intrinsically secure in a way no other electronics were right now for me. The architecture of the technology was clearly alien to NAIS. I’m sure that the locals could reverse engineer the technology and probably even crack the encryption, but it would take considerable time and effort. Until then, if I locked the iPad with its password engaged, unless someone tortured me, the damn thing was more or less entirely secure.
I did wish that I had more Battletech material of course, but I had hardly known this was going to happen to me. It was mildly vexing; all that money spent on novels, sourcebooks and games and when I needed it...
Still. I had participated in so many Battletech quests and read so many fanfics that I was pretty sure I had most of the key steps down pat in my head (and had been writing copious notes on my iphone, equally secure behind a password).
And this iPad and the single document on it that I had been carrying around with me, in the vague crazy hope of a situation just like this that I knew would never happen. An express postal delivery service to the very top..
“Just go here” I showed her the documents folder “and open this file. It's the only file there. In fact it should be open already when I lock it like so” I said, hitting the lock button at that point and then unlocking it to demonstrate the app already open before I locked it again and handed it out for her to take.
Her eyes for perhaps the first time utterly serious, she regarded me for long seconds before finally, almost grudgingly, she reached out to carefully take the iPad from me.
“Once again” she stated after a slightly uncomfortable silence. “Why exactly would Colonel Sortek want to read this?” she tapped the iPad with a perfectly manicured fingernail, her gaze locked with mine and deadly serious, saying without saying that she needed an answer now before anything happened.
“It's not so much a question of if he wants to read it” I explained carefully, feeling that this question would make or break how this all went. “It’s that I need him to read it, without knowing what he is reading in advance. And then afterwards, for he - and probably Hanse Davion too - to make a judgement on if I am utterly crazy or if I am the only sane man in an insane universe”. I could see i hadn’t exactly convinced her, so I simply shrugged. “I’m sure Quintus will want to review this before he even thinks about placing this in front of those two - and I have no objection. But I feel he also would agree after doing so that it would be better if they reviewed this without any hints. And” I added before it looked like she was about to reply, playing my last card to get the maximum attention. “If none of the above people are convinced by what they read that they think it's worthy of a further meeting with me, then please let me know that they can keep the ipad and do with it as they will as an apology for wasting their time”.
That got her attention I could see. In this age of Lostech (even if my iPad really wasn’t Lostech per se) simply giving away something like that was a statement of how serious (and how confident) I was about this whole thing. And feeling that there really wasn’t anything more to say, I reached down and zipped up my bag, swinging it onto my back and offering her a final, slightly forced smile.
“If they want to meet with me, I’m at their disposal … I’m sure they know exactly where I live” I noted.
I half expected at that point for her to simply wave a hand and half a dozen MI5 or MI6 agents appear from behind bushes or pop out of the lake in scuba gear or something to drag me off to the palace. Or for her to ‘invite’ me to join her there for further questions. Or that she would play for time for a team to come as she kept frantically hitting some invisible panic buzzer or something.
Instead, almost anticlimactically, Kym Sorenson casually got to her feet, offered me a completely non-committal nod and smile before she started to stroll off, humming casually to herself and instantly looking again like some NAIS college kid out for a stroll.
I wondered a little at that - but then decided not to take any chances. I also left, turning back to head out of the park towards my apartment. I deliberately also forced myself to not look around lest I started to try and pick out anyone following me. Indeed, I made it home without anything abnormal happening, which was slightly surprising given the size of the rock I had just thrown in the general direction of the most powerful people in the Federated Suns.
-
Chapter 3: Truth to Power
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***
And then followed the longest 44 hours of my life - to that point anyway. I have to admit I half expected to be brought in that afternoon, then evening, then night and didn’t sleep much, waiting for the knock on the door.
Then I was frantic most of the next day even as I slowly grew more tired (although I was careful to lay out the only good suit I owned), not leaving the apartment and just watching vids. After a light dinner I finally decided that if the powers that be wanted to talk to me, I don’t think they would let a closed door or fact that I was asleep stop them, so I might as well get some when I could. I managed to finally crash at the end of that day, slightly confused that nothing had happened.
The next morning after a surprisingly decent sleep I seemed to have needed, I tried to force myself to get back into a somewhat normal routine - as much as possible anyway as I was wondering if my ipad and its contents were being dismissed as some joke - or was sitting on someone's desk and winding its way through some vogon esque chain of bureaucrats who had forgotten the password or something. Even if I told myself it was highly unlikely, the thoughts remained.
Still, I managed to mostly convince myself to keep my expectations under control. Even if my little gift had been taken seriously, it could simply mean that Quintus Allard was examining everything with a fine tooth comb because the obvious conclusion was utterly crazy. And that it might be days or even weeks before he even brought it to his liege for review. I mean he was the bloody ruler of a big chunk of the Inner Sphere after all.
So early in the second morning, I decided that things were in motion and all I could do was wait. Which in turn meant finding things to do while I waited.
To that end, I went downstairs. The apartment complex had a nice little gym on the ground floor for the use of the residents I hadn’t checked out yet and now was as good a time as any. I spent a few hours trying to work off the nervous energy there - although I was equally careful to not exhaust myself just in case I needed my wits about me.
And with that edge at least dulled, I returned to my room for a quick shower. And then exited the bathroom (thank God with a towel around my waist) into my living room to find Kym Sorenson casually sprawled on my lounge...
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***
“If this is revenge for the lake … well done” I finally managed after at least five seconds of standing there clutching at my towel with a death grip to make damn sure it stayed in place as I rather pathetically stood there … dripping on the cheap carpet.
“Well no, it isn’t” the MIIO agent smiled before, deliberately, running her gaze from my feet to my face with an look best described as ‘considering’. “But I have to admit, the NAIS does quite decent work these days”.
I really hoped that the hot shower I had just finished was hiding the flush I felt at her words, not quite sure how to take them. Mostly annoyance I suppose, given the sheer amount of screaming pain my muscles had endured at the hands of a somewhat sadistic military instructor from the College of Military Sciences in between semesters, to get body into the shape it was in during my recovery.
Then again, to be brutally honest, the drugs had probably done more...
“Would you mind if I, you know, get dressed?” I jerked my head towards the bedroom. Her smirk only grew at that question.
“I’m not stopping you” she pointed out, looking entirely at ease (and stunningly professional) in a well cut business suit from her position on the other side of the room.
“Right” I muttered an answer and turned to walk out of the room, trying to regain my composure as I shut the door on her. I gave myself of the luxury of a half second to take a deep breath and remind myself this is what I wanted to happen before drying off and getting dressed, forcing myself to not rush things as I put on the suit that I had painstakingly laid out. Brushing my hair and finishing up quickly by selecting a brand new tie I had brought, I headed back into the living room. Kym was still patiently waiting for me as I came back in, starting to struggle with the new tie that was I noticed a little thicker than the ones I was used to. “So, Agent Sorenson, any particular reason you decided to break in today?”
“Because the key Quintus Allard gave me was the wrong bloody one and I had to pick the lock” she said with a perfectly straight face, making me pause in my struggle for a long moment to regard her.
“Well done” I congratulated her after a few seconds of consideration as I got back to work on my tie. “I genuinely can’t tell if that is sarcasm, truth or both at the same time”.
She actually looked pleased at that somewhat backwards complement.
“Anyway” Kym said in a more businesslike tone, “I’ve been sent to extend an invitation to the Davion Palace. There are some people who would really like to have a chat with you”.
“Right now I take it?”
“Not hardly” she snorted before she glanced at her watch. “We’ve got at least an hour or so before we’re expected”.
“Stop that” I deadpanned - although the twitch of a smile on my face betrayed my enjoyment of her snarking.
“You were much more fun in the park” she sighed before standing and stretching (in an extremely distracting way that earned her another mental roll of my eyes as I continued to try to struggle with the tie. “What are you doing?”
“Dressing” I grunted as the knot slipped into a horrid mess and I ripped it apart again. “I’ve done a tie thousands of times, but these bloody cravat-ties you people love…”
After a few seconds silently watching me struggle, the Countessa rolled her own eyes … and stepped way inside my personal space. Then, with quick, efficient motions and an exasperated sigh, she ripped my tie knot open and started to redo it.
“Did MIIO” (I had learned it was pronounced Mee-ohhh by the locals) “teach you how to do this?” I asked after a moment of adjustment for the fact that she was all but pressing up against me as she briskly went to work. Her cool blue eyes met mine for a second before focusing back on the tie with a look of concentration.
“Uh-uh” she shook her head, biting her lip in a rather cute way as her hands moved with great dexterity “My father is equally clueless with ties and I learned how to do it for him after my mother died”.
My initial thought to protest her categorization of me as ‘clueless’ clashed with the revelation of her mother's death, leaving me momentarily without a reply. By the time I had something to say however, it became impossible as she tightened the tie and cheerfully cut off my airflow for precious seconds, before it slackened back again. So I decided to just shut up and leave it at that.
“There. Adequate” she decided as she stepped back, reaching out a finger to sample my suit jackets lapel in curiosity. “Hmm. You actually look quite sharp in this cut of jacket. Simple and plain compared to quite a few of the things men call fashion these days, very much less is more. You might kick off a whole new fashion trend if you’re seen around the right people wearing it”.
“Wouldn’t that be somewhat counterproductive to keeping a low profile? Are you sure you’re a spy” I asked her with a slightly arched eyebrow.
“Somehow, given the way my boss and his bosses reacted to whatever the hell was on that iPad of yours, I doubt staying low profile is going to be much of a concern for long” she (almost too cheerfully) told me before she brushed some lint from the jacket and nodded. “You got everything you want to take with you?”
“Uh, yes” I replied. My heart had skipped a beat at her casually dropped warning at the shitstom I had unleashed - before I realized it had clearly been anything but casually dropped.
Was that a warning? Or, perhaps she was just screwing with my head?
Who knew the future Mrs Morgan Hasek-Davion was such a troll?
-
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***
I expected the ride to the Davion Palace to seem to be either very slow or very fast but it turned out to be neither. Instead it seemed surprisingly … normal. The unmarked car we were driving in moved steadily with the traffic and without any theatrics of flashing lights, escorts or anything of that sort. The three other agents in the car with me were silent and normal looking men. The world (and Inner Sphere) outside the window continued on normally, entirely unknowing of the changes to fate and destiny I was about to throw at it.
As for me, I was stuck in something of a loop in my thoughts. Suddenly aware of how serious this shit was getting for me and how powerful the people were whose attention I was drawing … only to then note that these were exactly the people whose attention I wanted, weren't they?
Honestly, the enormity of this whole change in my life and change in my very universe was still sinking in - and I had just doubled down. Things were in motion now that I could no more stop than I could win an arm wrestle with an Atlas.
Still. Perhaps that was a good thing, all things considered. If Kym hadn’t shown up that day, perhaps I would have just fretted myself into a corner and done absolutely nothing. One way or the other, the die was cast. The rubicon was crossed - and add any number of other analogies from Ancient Rome here.
Well I was probably going to meet a guy named Quintus after all..
Thankfully, no-one in the car tried to engage me in conversation, leaving me to my brooding introspection until Kym noted that we were here. I blinked and refocused outside, seeing indeed that Mount Davion loomed overhead as we turned into one of the entrances. We were briskly waved through the outer gate and directed through a second checkpoint in turn, that diverted us away from what seemed to be ‘public parking’ outside. In moments we turned past some discreetly placed shrubbery and trees that screened a smaller outside parking area I thought we were going to stop in - no, we turned instead through a massive open blast door in the side of the mountain and into a large tunnel beyond.
We were stopped at an inner checkpoint here and Kym handed over some paperwork. The guards read it, seemed to do a double take and then with a salute, gestured us onwards. I have to admit I was surprised at the somewhat lax security, but didn’t have much time to mull on it as the car turned into a one of a number of large rooms set equally around an open circular space, a large mesh grate rattling closed behind us.
I had just enough time to look around and wonder what was going on when with a clunk, the ground under the car shuddered - and suddenly we were falling. Okay we were in a giant elevator. And judging by the scale of both it and the tunnel leading into it above...
My hunch was proven right when the elevator stopped a minute later, opening into a mirror of the circular space above. Except as we drove out of it, we entered a vast, well lit artificial cavern filled with Battlemechs. All in the dress paint of the 1st Davion Guards.
Wow.
It was a pretty ****** awesome sight - the kind of moment that a good movie soundtrack would fill with something awe inspiring and martial as we passed Battlemech after Battlemech standing tall in various gantries on either side of the ‘road’ - many with technicians working on - or even in the bigger ones. Hmm, something from Hans Zimmer or Brian Tyler perhaps? Damnit I could have cued up something on my iPhone if I had known this was coming...
We had driven past probably a couple of battalions worth of war machines when we finally turned off down a ‘side street’ and then quickly off into a much smaller sub-cavern.
In here was what looked like luxury cars, limos and the like. My guess was that this were where the VIP transport fleet for the First Prince was stored - but I didn’t have too much time to look around as we stopped and the car doors were opened almost at once and I was prodded to get out.
A welcoming committee was waiting for us here, a half dozen people including a quartet of troopers in the same ‘ghost recon’ setup I had seen at NAIS, wielding what I recognized now as laser rifles linked to backpack powerpacks. My slightly distracted air this morning thus vanished, as fast a hundred kronor bill floating around the sidewalks of Tharkad City.
Shit just got real.
Kym confidently stepped up to the lead member of the welcoming committee and pulled the same piece of paper out she had shown earlier. This time I could see that as she handed it over, she was pressing her thumb to a golden strip on the bottom of the paper - and when she let go, it caused a part of the paper to seemingly illuminate. I realized that it could only be a verigraph embedded document - like the infamous note Morgan Kell had from Katrina Steiner. An almost impossible to forge biometric verification technique that could be embedded into the paper to confirm someone's identity.
I didn’t know what the paper said, but clearly it was correct and/or expected. The man actually saluted Kym after carefully examining and scanning the document, dismissing the troops and Kym in turn gestured me forward as the other agents who had come with me, got back into the car and drove it off back to who knows where.
Never even got their names. Oh well. I’m going to call them agents Jackson, Johnson, and Thompson. They damn well looked like those guys from the Matrix at any rate.
“John - your ID please?” Kym asked as I stopped next to her. Without saying anything, I opened my wallet and handed over the ID I had been issued at NAIS. I found it slightly amusing to think that it was simultaneously both perfectly real and perfectly fake, but I decided pointing that out here and now would be a bad idea as Kym handed it on to the person in charge.
Then I was led to a security screening station. I emptied my pockets into a tray which was taken to be fed through an X-Ray machine (I mentally winced a moment later as I saw the tray pass into the machine, hoping that this wouldn’t fry my iPhone, which was probably far more fragile than the electronics they were used to poking with radiation here even when turned off) before I stepped through the gate. There I was patted down very thoroughly and had several portable scanners run over, around and on me.
Well, at least, they were genuinely professional about it. Airport Security they were not.
The head security type returned a short time later while Kym was busying logging us in on some kind of electronic clipboard. I was given a sort of temporary plastic pass on a lanyard, with a current today photo of me I hadn’t even noticed had been taken as well as my details and a whole bunch of codes, barcodes and so on that I guessed said where I could go and where I should be shot on sight.
Hanging it on my neck, I recovered my things (the iPhone seemed unaffected and powered back up normally thank God and/or the engineers at Cupertino) and Kym and I were on our way.
An elevator ride was next, one that moved quickly but still took some time to ascend up through the mountain past literally dozens of galleries filled with smaller floors like some kind of Toyko-3 labyrinth from Evangelion. The glorious palace on top was merely the tip of the iceberg as it were, with vast spaces inside filled with thousands or tens of thousands of people serving House Davion.
On reflection, I shouldn’t have been surprised given that this was, really, the central hub of an interstellar nation.
Another security foyer (one fortified with see through but thick glass I suspected was Battlemech cockpit grade) greeted us when the door finally opened but a quick scan of the barcode on my guest pass (and Kyms MIIO ID badge she was now also wearing) and we were escorted through the checkpoint by the guards on duty … into another elevator. This one rising fast enough to force me to pop my ears.
This time when it opened and we were (again) scanned in through a security checkpoint, we exited into the palace proper. Marble floors, wooden paneled walls, plush furniture and antique tables, huge oil paintings of Battlemechs furiously firing and portraits of previous First Princes and Royal Families … everything screamed ‘expensive and powerful’.
Not to mention the gaggles of nobles moving with purpose in an eclectic mixture of semi-formal noble dress and the highest quality of business suits mixed with AFFS personnel in the local equivalent of Class-A uniforms.
Kym led me from the elevators, ignoring what seemed to be a large reception and waiting area to instead move past more guards to an empty enclosed balcony that circled the main tower. Apparently we were going to have to wait here for five minutes or so because we were a bit early - but I didn’t really mind.
The castle grounds spread along the ridge line in the shadow of the mountain and its terraces of office block like levels looked nice enough but I have to admit to being slightly underwhelmed at first glance. Given that this was the seat of power for House Davion, I had frankly expected a slightly more grandiose scale to things … and that was when I happened to notice that the things walking on patrol on the top of the castle's outer wall were not people ... but Mechs.
Okay. Readjusting my scale from that, I realized what I had taken to be narrow paths between buildings were in fact broad avenues and I was much higher up than I thought. Small guest houses dotting the land quickly turned into self-contained mansions and a well tended ‘park’ became a well tended mini forest...and what looked like a mini spaceport to boot instead of a large helipad.
Okay. Right. Not half bad digs!
An odd sense of recollection-that-wasn’t came over me as I took in the vista, recalling that at the end of the FedCom civil war, Katherine Steiner-Davion (please let me butterfly her) had stood at a window in the Palace Throne room and looked down on this same view. Watching as Victors troops blasted her dwindling loyalists backwards up the slopes to the Castle, her empires span having shrunk from across the Inner Sphere to mere kilometers as her brother implacably pressed forward with his RCTs, leading from the front as always. As she had watched, an entire company of her dwindling troops had suddenly thrown themselves into a desperate one-way suicide run to try and bring her brother down, only for the man I was hoping to see now to shove his Omnimech in front of Victors and sacrifice himself in his place as her doomed troops were shot to pieces. Katherine of course had been utterly indifferent to their sacrifice - as after all, they had failed her. ‘Only’ managing to kill just one more good man who willingly and without hesitation gave the last thing he could after a lifetime of service, to protect his best friends son one last time.
A good man, who had died - with far far too many others - because The Bitch had let greed, ego and obsession consume her.
THAT was why I was here.
“It’s time” Kym suddenly broke into my mussing. I took a final look at the peaceful vista that might or might not be one day turned into a heaving mass of Battlemechs and Tanks, before turning to follow her into the palace itself.
This part of the palace was clearly more of the ‘working’ part, the core of an Interstellar Empire. Hundreds of people were coming and going through the open areas, including people who appeared to be AFFS Flag officers and a number of people I suspected were senior nobles in senior roles. Kim however led me with unerring precision through the chaos … to yet another guard station. Where I was searched.
Again.
And scanned.
Again.
Okay. I take back everything I had said about them not being diligent.
We were eventually cleared through the door behind it and two turns later I found myself in a richly appointed but empty hallway come waiting room, with a surprising number of heavily armed guards (in full field gear this time) standing around looking surprisingly alert.
Especially the pair in front of a rather nice looking wooden door at the end of the corridor. One that above it had the crest of the Federated Suns mounted in gleaming style. The sword looking like it had been cast out of solid silver and the sunburst in solid gold, with polished red woods around it.
Oh hell. I had a rather good idea whose office this was … and it wasn't Ardan Sorteks or Quintus Allards...
“This is where I leave you” Kym spoke up with an apologetic smile, perhaps taking pity on me for how I was simply standing and staring at the door - clearly realizing I had just comprehended who was behind it. “Just take a seat” she gestured at a number of plush looking seats lining the wall “and they’ll call you in when ready”.
“They?” I asked, unabashedly fishing for information.
“They” she confirmed. “I have no idea what was on that ‘iPad’, but you’ve certainly stirred up a bit of a hornets nest Mister Smith”.
“I hope that I didn’t get you in any trouble” I replied, it suddenly hitting me that my casual ‘outing’ of her identity like that had probably caused some rather pointed questions to be asked around her.
“Well my debriefing after our little fun in the park went for eight hours” she replied in a deadpan voice and I winced. “But” she added with a wry look, “I got a commendation logged in my file from Quintus Allard himself for quick thinking and adaptability in a highly unusual situation. So I guess it evens out”.
“You’re welcome” I smirked - and she rolled her eyes and swatted me somewhat playfully on my arm at that. “I take it you have a new assignment now?” I asked.
“I do. I’m actually headed offworld” she explained with a grin, clearly happy about her new mission. “I can’t say where of course”.
“Of course” I agreed, my thoughts instantly flashing to the area at Solaris. It was a bit early … but it took time to cross interstellar distances - and probably even more to carefully establish her cover well in advance of the events I knew were coming (unless I was about to butterfly them away).
Solaris … you know, I really wanted to visit there someday. Granted, I wasn’t exactly a big fan of the whole blood sport side of things. But as it turned out, fatalities in the arenas were quite rare. As a rule, shooting for the cockpit was considered a cheap shot on the order of going for a nads punch or something in a boxing match and would get you dropped by your sponsors faster than an Stalker could overheat so it was rare indeed. Deaths generally only occurred because two people who genuinely wanted to kill each other took advantage of the legal way to do so - and as both knew the risks going in, well...
“Good luck on your mission then” I said sincerely, extending my hand to her. “Until we meet again”.
“It’s certainly been … interesting” she noted, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake. “It’s unlikely we’ll bump into each other again I’m afraid”.
“Oh, I don’t know” I offered her my best ‘I know something you don’t know’ smile that had her narrow her eyes slightly. And a part of me smugly delighted in this final victory. “But in the end, come what may … we’ll always have the Peace Park”.
Her expression softened at that, actually becoming almost … fond?
“Casablanca - one of my mother's favourite old vid-films” she identified the line to my surprise. “And yes, we’ll always have the Peace Park. And the near heart attack you gave me when you blew my cover like that”.
“I can assure you I was almost having one myself, wondering if you were going to have me dragged off and strapped into some interrogation chair” I admitted.
“Kinky” she noted with a … honestly, I don’t know what to make of that smirk. “But I’m not the kind of girl who goes for that on a first date”.
“Then I’m very glad we never went on a second” I retorted.
I have the privilege of getting in the last word - because at that point with a loud click, the door at the end of the corridor opened and a middle aged man in an AFFS uniform stepped out.
“Mister Smith?”
“Yes” I said, stepping away from Kym to face him. “I am he”.
“If you will please come with me Sir” the other gestured me forward. I nodded and with a final glance at Kym, I turned away to walk through the door, the man closing it behind me.
Inside was what seemed to be an outer office of a sorts, with a half dozen civilian and military personnel were hard at work. None of them acknowledged me so I didn’t interrupt them as I was quickly led across to a smaller leather covered door. The aide pressed a buzzer and then, without waiting for a reply, opened it and stepped just inside.
“Highness, Mister John Smith” he announced me.
“Thank you Tony, that will be all” a voice called back. “Please, come in Mister Smith”.
That voice had quite a tone of command in it and almost without realizing it I was walking into the room as ‘Tony’ let me pass, then closed the door behind me.
The ‘office’ was quite a large size. Not ridiculously so like a Bond Villain's Lair or something, but certainly spacious, carefully divided up into different sections by cunning use of slightly raised or lowered sections and constructed with polished dark woods. There was what was clearly a large working desk; an almost ‘office inside an office’ to the right. Over on the left was a bunch of video screens and a holo projector and various computers and so on. Beyond it was what looked like a sort of dining area, probably for casual ‘working dinners’ with staff and so on with a few doors beyond it to other rooms.
Oh and yes, raised up against the far wall directly opposite the door, under the angled windows on the ceiling, was a table that looked like it could have come from a boardroom, two-dozen leather chairs around it. With three people sitting on the far side.
The First Prince of the Federated Suns looked somewhat similar to the various pictures I recalled from Battletech sourcebooks, if only in general terms. He seemed younger and fitter - and perhaps it was just me projecting again, but God he had a presence. Even just sitting casually in what seemed to be a pretty plain 31st century business suit he seemed to dominate the room. Letting everyone know that this was the ruler of hundreds of worlds and perhaps the greatest First Prince in the history (past or known future) of the Federated Suns.
Tearing my gaze off him as I crossed the room, I noted that to his left was a man in an AFFS duty uniform that I identified as Ardan Sortek from some public pictures I had found when doing some research and the man on the right and to his right in a perfectly nondescript looking business suit, was Quintus Allard. Arguably the troika that ran the Federated Suns.
Well, I think it was safe to say that my copy of ‘The Sword and the Dagger’ had gotten their attention.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice” Hanse Davion greeted me as I climbed the three steps to where they were sitting, feeling like I was ascending Olympus to be judged by the Gods of this setting, as Hanse gestured to the chair on the opposite side of the table from him.
“Thank you, Prince Davion. For the invitation - and your time” I replied as politely as I could as I approached the table with a nod that wasn’t quite a bow, pulling out the chair opposite him and sitting down - and placing my iPhone carefully on the table in front of him.
Then it hit me.
Holy shit. I’m sitting across from Hanse ****** Davion.
Damn I wish I could take a selfie and post it on Spacebattles...
“After your little gift to us” he said, gesturing at my iPad that I now noticed was sitting in front of Quintus mixed in with plenty of folders and paperwork, “I thought that it would be useful for us to sit down and have a little chat. As I’m sure you can anticipate, we have quite a few questions we would like to put to you”.
“I do understand. Before that though I’d like to thank you for everything you’ve done for me since I was … well … created I suppose”.
“It’s certainly the least we could do given the situation” Hanse waved away my thanks.
Ohh, opening. Well, let's get started.
“Actually the least would have been to simply terminate me as a major security risk” I said glancing at Quintus for a moment. “And given that I was created because NAIS was most probably trying to build a HPG, it would have been entirely understandable if you simply had me shot and buried in an unmarked grave to ensure ROM never found out from me”. I offered them a slightly wry smile. “Personally, “I’m rather glad you didn’t”.
Neither Hanse nor Quintus expressions shifted even one micron, remaining friendly and polite - which I have to admit was impressive given that I had just dropped A) The fact that I figured out roughly what they were doing (which could just mean I was observant and made a good guess, except for) B) I knew about ROM who I’m sure MIIO also had a generally good idea about - but ComStars ****** were sure as hell not public knowledge.
Ardan though, good old Ardan, seemed to actually twitch slightly making me hope I was on the right path.
“I have the feeling” Hanse said, leaning forward with that famous smirk I had seen on the vids, “that I am going to be increasingly glad I never genuinely considered it either”. Glancing at Sorrek he nodded once. “Ardan however was the person though who insisted on a pension to ensure you were looked after for the rest of your life”.
“Then I owe you quite a debt Colonel” I nodded at the other, who offered me a nod in exchange.
“No debt is owed Mister Smith - as his Highness stated, it was the least we could do honestly given the situation.
I got the distinct feeling he was speaking to Quintus when he said that and I wondered just how on the money I might have been about some of the people in the room toying with simply killing me … yeah, better not go down that path. And anyway, as I had said, the man wouldn't have been doing his job if he didn't consider the option.
“At any rate” I continued, pretty certain I had their attention now and deciding to press on, turning my attention to Hanse Davion's head of intelligence. “I take it you’ve read ‘The Sword and the Dagger?’”
“All three of us, yes” Quintus answered. “I agreed with your suggestion of presenting it to Colonel Sortek without any hint of what it was about to gauge his reaction after I did so”. Now Quintus turned to offer a slightly wry look at the other. “I have to admit I’ve never seen him go for a stiff drink like that before”.
“It was more than a little shocking” the AFFS officer said quite candidly and quietly. “To put it mildly. Utterly impossible”.
“Completely impossible” Hanse put in almost cheerfully. “And yet here we are. And with your rather blunt name dropping, I’m taking it that you know rather more than this single document suggests about things you really should not?”
“That statue on your desk” I hooked a finger over my shoulder back in the general direction of his desk and the distinctive statue I had eyeballed walking across the room, “is of you and Dana Stephenson, based on a picture taken on Christmas day. It’s made out of some of the glass salvaged from her cockpit after some Kuritan ****** stepped on it and has the engagement ring you offered to her in its base - and you were looking at it the moment Katrina Steiners peace proposal arrived”.
Oooookay. Perhaps that was a little too much showing off - from the way Hanse’s face actually tightened with emotion, Ardan’s eyes widened and Quintus shifted forward slightly with the changing air of someone going from ‘polite interest’ to ‘absolute attention’.
“I’m sorry” I added after a moment, feeling like a dick and glancing away for a moment before looking back up. “That was probably far too personal an example to use Prince Davion - put rather crudely. My apologies”.
“Accepted” Hanse said, recovering his poise in a heartbeat, a new rather focused gleam coming into his eyes. “But … it certainly seems to have cut to the heart of the matter. You know things Mister Smith. Things you should not, could not, possibly know” and God strike me down if I was lying, but the man just assumed the Gendo Pose! “Of course, although we have our theories based on that novel, fantastic as they are, we’d like to hear you lay it all out for us. So please Mister Smith. Take your time and walk us through it”.
“This may take some time. But to start at the beginning, in nineteen eighty five, in my reality, a team led by a man named Jordan Weisman developed a tabletop game known as ‘Battle Droids…’ “
-
Chapter 4: The Scarface Methodology.
***
******
***
That was one of the most exhausting days in my life. Slowly, I laid out things for them. Battletech in my reality, its history as developed by a bunch of people over decades with the game and then the massive expanse of the universe that was fleshed out by sourcebooks, novels, computer games and even a cartoon series. The broad scope of ‘Classic Battletech’ which was around this time period and went back and forth of expanding both the history and future of the universe.
They took the news that their lives and choices has essentially been entertainment made up by a group of game designers … surprisingly well really. All three men - including Quintus!- even showed sympathy towards my position, genuinely seeming to appreciate my questioning of what reality was given my story. But in the end with the -abbreviated- version given, the First Prince got down to the core issue, asking me simply what I intended to do about all of this now that I was here.
I thought about it for a long moment ... and I gave him my answer.
It was part speech, part verbal diarrhea that embarrassingly played out for a good five minutes or so that could have been summarized far more verbrosly as ‘I believe in you, Katrina Steiner and the idea of the Federated Commonwealth as probably the best hope for mankind at this point in time. Thus I want to put a finger on the scales of history and tilt the result a little to make damn sure this time, it works’.
The three men opposite me took it in silently but intently until finally I ran out of words feeling like a bit of an idiot; a stirring movement of glorious words it was not. But I think it was perhaps all the more real for that, an honest venting if you will. Finally I finished and Hanse Davion looked at me for a long, long moment after that with a gaze rather hard to meet. So much so I was really having to put effort into not squirming, before he turned to Ardan who nodded once and then to Quintus. I noted that the spymaster had a noteputer running in front of him then and I would bet it was linked into some kind of biometric lie detection system pointed at me, probably built into this room. At any rate, he too gave Hanse a nod. And with that, Hanse stood and headed over to a small sidebar and returned with a bottle of … something … and four glasses.
“It is tradition in my family, Mister Smith, that when House Davion makes pacts of such gravity, we seal it with a drink” he stated, pouring a few fingers into each of the four glasses and passing them out. That done, he screwed the top back on the bottle and lifted his glass, Ardan and Quintus following suit. I too matched their gesture as a gaze more intense than anything so far was leveled at me and his tone turned totally up to full ‘First Prince’ levels. “So I offer you this pact John Smith. Swear to me your allegiance as a citizen of the Federated Suns - and then Commonwealth. Offer me your personal service as an advisor and your knowledge and I promise you both my protection and my best efforts from now until my last day. I promise your service will be rewarded, both personally and in the advancement of the vision of the future you seem to share with Katrina Steiner and I”.
Wow that was … heavy. Very formal - and very direct.
And there was only one possible answer to give. So I took a deep breath and stood, the three men opposite standing too as I lifted my glass and unerringly looked into the eyes of The Fox.
“My Prince” I said to him putting a slight edge on the pronoun, “I accept”.
“Smashing” he smiled and with that, shot the drink back with the other two men and I joined them.
I didn’t choke too much either.
What was that, Mech coolant?!
After I got my breath back I continued, pulling my iPhone out and navigating a few sub menus to hit a command. Across from me the iPad beeped and Quintus quickly activated it with a raised eyebrow at me. “
Just accept the file transfer” I asked and he pressed the indicated buttons, establishing the Bluetooth link and letting the data flow. “I just copied over the other ‘Battletech’ primary sources I had on my person when I got here” I explained to their curious looks and instantly Quinus’s full attention was on the documents listed. “Wolves on the Border is a novel watching the Dragoons in service to the Combine - from start to finish. Both internally inside the Dragoons and the Combines political machinations around them, Takashi and other Warlords. Right up to their eventual flight from the Combine in thirty twenty eight into the Draconis March and starting their own private war against House Kurita. And then there are the three other books. They are known as the ‘Warrior Trilogy’ .. and detail the events leading into, during and immediately after the Fourth Succession War from the end of this year to the end of thirty twenty nine. Including a great many internal points of view of ComStar at the First Circuit and their manipulations against the Inner Sphere as a whole and the Federated Commonwealth in particular. Also a great deal from Michael Hasek-Davions point of view, his plotting and scheming and from similar people on the Lyran side of the fence and of course, a birds eye view of Sian”.
Ah, charming, Hanse Davion’s face trying to fight off a look of with numb disbelief. I must be one of a very few people to have ever done that to him. The moment broke as the iPad chirped happily as the file transfer completed and I pushed the iPhone across the desk to join it.
“The iPhone has the same unlock code” I added and my voice seemed to jolt them out of their stasis. “And the same files are present on it – as well as a number of 21st century TV shows, music and other media”
Quintus recovered first - although I’d take an oath that for a split second I had seen pure shock flash through his otherwise poker-perfect eyes- and started to pack the iPad, iPhone and his various notes and folders into a secure briefcase.
“I’ll have preliminary summaries on your desk in forty eight hours Highness” Quintus promised his liege simply. “If I have your leave - and with Mister Smith's permission, I have a handpicked team on standby in the palace with whom we can start a full scale debriefing on these issues and apartments you can move into through this process”.
“By all means” I agreed. I had little doubt that what few possessions I actually cared about could be quietly packed up and shipped here.
“Excellent” Hanse agreed turning to face me as he stood, followed by the rest of us. “John, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship” he smiled, extending his hand, which I took after a slightly shocked pause.
Okay. Now that was just showing off.
***
******
***
So. How would Scarface have put it?
Probably something like ‘In Battletech … first you seize the Helm cache. Then you hit New Dallas. Then you troll the Wolf with weather reports!’
Well ... here was step one then I suppose.
Point of order, when I came clean to Hanse Davion I have to admit I did not expect to be put into the field. Firstly, I wasn’t field trained - or trained in general for that matter. Second and more pertinent, with minimal ego, I could state I was clearly a critical strategic asset for the Federated Suns. And potentially catastrophic security threat to said Federated Suns if I was to fall into the wrong hands. I had fully expected to be locked in something of a gilded cage for quite some time and had accepted that as the price for making a difference on a Sphere-Wide scale. But that was fine by me; said gilded cage would give me a front row seat to events as they played out. I hoped and expected that eventually, when my knowledge was no longer relevant, I’d get a nice junior noble title, a bank account containing many zeros to the left of a decimal point and an estate to retire to and enjoy the rest of my life in neo-feudal luxury. Which was, again, pretty spectacular if my ‘basic guest apartments’ in the palace were any indication!
Although honestly compelled me to note that I did hope to call in some favors to dance on the unmarked graves of Myndo Waterly, non-fake Thomas Marik and Romano Liao someday.
With an Assault Mech. Using Triple Strength Myomers.
And yet, here I was, watching New Avalon slowly recede as our shuttle burned for the Zenith point...
The reason I was here, being honest, was my own damn fault. I had made a stupid comment to Ardan -who had shown up at quite a few of my debriefings- as I had traced out the Clan Invasion corridors as I remembered them onto a map; noting how easy it was on New Avalon for me to keep thinking of units and politics like a giant chessboard. To forget of the millions or billions of lives who would be impacted by the decisions that were being made and would be impacted by my choices. Wondering if that was fundamentally how Katherine Steiner-Davion had gone wrong. Never having served on the front line or really even put herself at risk.
Oh yes - such comparisons were actually understood now by Ardan, Quintus and Hanse. It had taken a month of intense work to drain me dry of most of what I knew about Battletech, but finally I had unloaded what I recalled. A team of crack debriefing experts sworn to secrecy had worked me day in - day out, systematically recording everything before indexing, cross checking and expanding on it. Fleshing out every detail they could.
It took time and a hell of a lot of effort that left me with headaches, but eventually it was all over and I was confident I had laid out as much knowledge of Battletech as I could easily remember. Although some of it was less than useful, on the whole combined with the four e-books being ripped apart it was an asset beyond measure. I mean I suspected they were still taking my future knowledge with large grains of salt and at least for now, carefully looking for supporting evidence, but...
Even so, Ardan Sortek (who had actually become something of an almost-friend to me as I saw much more of him than either Hanse or Quintus) had made it clear that my layout of the failures of the more distant future had hit Hanse hard. Even if he barely showed it, the failures of his offspring had clearly stung him. Which on reflection I should have anticipated. After all, superhuman genius or not, as their Father it was only natural for him to be heartbroken at how his children would turn out.
He was heartened, again according to Ardan, that Victor had at least had honestly tried his best; always fighting for the people of the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth - never giving up no matter what.
Even if he had all the political smarts of a Gauss Rifle slug; Hanse had apparently needed a stiff drink when he had gotten to my notes on Omi Kurita.
But if he had needed a stiff drink for Victor, he had needed a ****** distillery when he got to Katherine.
I really hadn’t held back about why she, despite any number of ‘evil’ characters throughout its history, was known in Battletech circles simply as ‘The Bitch’. With a capital T and B. I hadn’t pulled any punches when I had laid out her matricidal, regicidal reign of destruction as she tore apart everything he and Katrina had tried to build because if she couldn't have it, no one could. Laying out the lengths she had gone to to gain and then hold onto power...
Well, what Father wouldn’t take that badly?
It was the first time, Ardan had quietly told me over a casual dinner in my apartment one night when we caught up, that he had seen Hanse genuinely seem to doubt himself and his abilities and it had shaken Ardan a little.
With that said, a few hours later Hanse had snapped out of it, accepted the failings and already started to plan (read scheme) how to better prepare any future children for their future roles and avoid such failings. And a determination to sit down with Katrina, honestly discuss the situation and look for ways to strengthen the alliance on a more fundamental level, give it the ‘inertia’ I had noted the FedCom had lacked.
His reaction to my diatribes on ComStar on the other hand ...
Apparently after reading that report on everyone's favourite phone company and their antics from Holy Shroud to their future mutant stepchild and their temper tantrum, Hanse had walked down to the Mech Bays and taken his Battlemaster out for a walk on ‘The Gauntlet’ - the NAIS military college training and testing grounds. The poor simulation masters had a great deal of work to clean up that afternoon after their Prince invoked his ‘I’m the ****** First Prince’ authority and used live ammo on the fake targets to work out some … issues. And it wasn’t entirely an exaggeration to say that Ardan and Yvonne Davion had to apparently do some fast talking to convince him to not change his wife's wedding present to the Terran system.
Still, planning was underway to deal with everyone's favourite phone company. Revenge being a dish best served cold and all that - and even though I didn’t have a need to know about it, I could guess at some of the more immediate actions being taken to ensure ComStars long term downfall and the ascendancy of the Federated Commonwealth.
Case in point; Helm.
An advanced team of some of his best MIIO and DMI personnel had already been dispatched to get the ball rolling shortly after I had exhausted my knowledge of that whole deal, on what was there and what would be need to be done to access it. Another more military team equipped for hostile environment recon had also been dispatched to New Dallas, but my knowledge on where the hell that core was had been somewhat less precise despite my best efforts. Helm on the other hand ... well, spend enough time around Spacebattles BROB threads, fanfics and Quests in the 3025 era and EVERYONE made a run for Helm, so I happily recalled a rather large amount of useful information.
Even more happily for Hanse and typical of his ‘why deal with one thing when you can deal with three at the same time?’ attitude, he had apparently decided that this was an excellent opportunity to accelerate the building of ties with the Lyran Commonwealth. Logistically, staging from Lyran space to hit Helm and then retreating back into it would be significantly easier than trying to jump from the Terran Regions and fight through the FWL. Further, having Hanse magnanimously share the spoils … well, political currency was arguably worth more than C-Bills on this level. Katrina would owe him one, the public of both realms would be given a clear, initial and shockingly dramatic example of what the two states working together could do and the Archon would be able to effectively isolate and marginalize nobles in the Estates Generals not exactly happy with the whole FedCom treaty by showing a spectacular success for the first joint operation.
Pretty typical Hanse Davion really.
Ardan had been chosen as the leader of the expedition, built around the Davion Heavy Guards RCT, as well as a handpicked NAIS technical team … and me.
To get back to the reason why I was bouncing through hyperspace, Ardan had (on his own without me asking) decided after my reflections that I needed to get out and participate in this venture, vouching for both my safety and security personally. To my mild surprise, Hanse had agreed without any hesitation, noting that it was an acceptable risk and there was always the chance that I would remember something on Helm at a critical moment.
And he had directly said that he trusted me. Which was rather touching really.
Of course, I had little doubt that Quintus had put people in place to make sure there was no chance I’d fall into enemy hands during this trip ... but I tried not to think about it much. More critically, I was fully aware that this whole thing was something of a test and act of faith on the part of Prince Davion. If my knowledge was wrong, he would be putting one of his finest RCTs at considerable risk with this deep strike.
On the other hand if this all panned out and my knowledge proved true … well, counting chickens and all that. No need to get ahead of myself.
The trip out was agreeably speedy, we emulated a command circuit of sorts by having our shuttles hop small craft bays on jumpships and dropships as they moved from system to system without needing to divert traffic, quickly reaching the Heavy Guards whose Jumpships had been waiting at the Errai Zenith point. They had been involved in Operation Galahad and had been scheduled to move back to their original garrison station as that exercise wound up. Instead, a press release was issued that they were proceeding to the Lyran Commonwealth for further -if much smaller scale- ‘goodwill joint exercises’ for the next six months. Carefully placed leaks had been generated, suggesting that this was in fact a cover for them prowling up and down the Combine border on the Lyran side, just looking for tempting targets to hit or raids to squash.
And if the Combine happened to nervously start looking over their shoulder as a result? Well, so much the better.
Marshal Ran Felsner, commander of the Heavy Guards, was an interesting sort of fellow. He was actually technically the commander of the entire Brigade of Guards now, but that position it seemed was half ceremonial, with a half dozen senior officers in the Brigade seemingly rotating through it. In his absence, 1st Guards CO Stephen Davion was tagged into the Field Marshal hat -and was distinctly unhappy according to Ardan about not being selected by Hanse to go play Laura Croft - but even so it left Ardan rather outranked Colonel to Marshal.
With that said, ‘The Sword and the Dagger’ had been on the money about both their friendship and easy ability to work together. And Ardans low rank was increasingly a technicality; he was already well recognized through the Guards Brigade as the First Princes ‘shotgun’, almost a second Prince's Champion in some ways. And that was before he and a handful of 1st Guards Mechwarriors had single handedly foiled the whole imposter Hanse plot. Even if the whole truth about those events was a tightly kept secret, the Brigade as a whole knew enough that they were almost worshiping the ground Ardan Sortek walked on these days.
Anyway, on this mission Ran remained in change of the Guards and would deal with any military issues while Ardan was appointed by Hanse as the overall expedition commander. I had little time to shake hands after we docked; the Heavy Guards jumped out inside of fifteen minutes, riding a pseudo command circuit of jumpships across the border to a cordial if surprised greeting from the authorities in Skye, who had just barely been warned we were coming. Apparently one-time-pad messages between New Avalon and Tharkad had been flying -they actually DID use them it turned out, mixed in with regular encryptions. Not to defeat ComStar (that was just a bonus it seemed) but apparently to keep critical information out of mid-level personnel in political and military circles. Where most spy activity took place.
Even so, all Hanse had said to Katrina was that the AFFS wanted to launch a hit, hold and run raid on a high-value FWL target and he requested an accompanying Lyran unit to go with his men. One whose loyalty was unquestioned ... and a whole bunch of empty dropships and jumpships to haul away an undetermined amount of loot - with the promise of a straight split down the middle. Hanse even put up the money to fund covering raiding into the FWL, using some of the Mercs on the border to obscure the target in the middle of a bunch of distraction attacks.
That alone had probably gotten the Archons curiosity piqued. After all, when did people offer to pay the Steiners money?
And so I found myself somewhat unsurprised when we jumped into GR-4239-8876A. An uninhabited system with a yellow dwarf star about six light years inside theoretical Marik space ... and twenty nine point three two zero light years from Helm.
Uninhabited … but not empty.
“Is Katrina showing off?” I asked the cramped war-room on board the Excalibur class Iron Fox - command ship of the Heavy Guards as I counted off the ships on the sensor feed. I was relieved to see twelve Jumpships with the indicators I had learned to read indicating that their parasites were all also in the green meaning we were all accounted for.
“Undeniably” Ardan smiled gently. “A casual display of her logistical might to her new allies who are bringing one of the best units in the Inner Sphere to the party”.
“One of the best?” someone protested in the rear and I couldn’t help but smile at the faux outrage.
Ardan offered only a twitch of a smirk in response to the snark though, as he refocused the ship's external sensors on a more distant cloud of Jumpships, coded blue for allied-non AFFS waiting for us at the agreed non-standard jump point beyond the proximity limit. According to their transponder data, two of the Jumpships were impossibly rare Monoliths whose spines bristled with Mammoth and a few Mule class dropships. By my count there were eight of the latter and sixteen of the former! The largest ships capable of grounding in the Inner Sphere - with enormous cargo capacity.
Huh. That might just be enough to haul away the shinies.
I mean sure, the memory core might be the key and, objectively, worth vastly more than the SLDF military gear stashed there … but hey, I’m sure no-one would object to hauling away a whole bunch of wargear while we were at it, right? I wondered exactly what Hanse had said to her in his message to get this response...
“But it does seem the Archon has taken this whole thing pretty seriously” Ardan continued.
“Oh?” I asked - suddenly feeling a tad nervous as I turned back to glance at him. No matter how certain I was, the possibility of annoying Katrina Steiner with a wild goose chase if for some reason I was wrong was not a happy one. “Why do you say that?”
Ardan simply nodded towards the projection as he straightened, releasing himself from his jump chairs restraints.
“Because she sent the ‘Hounds”.
---
As an aside, the Battletech materials given to da boyz are quite literally what was on my iPad when I started writing this. I have them all in dead tree format of course, but its a hell of a lot easier to use the digital version, lucky me :p
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Watched. And thank you. Getting caught up with the FC Civil War Timeine, and everything since, has left me with a taste for some FedComYay.
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This is seriously *&^%ing awesome... Moar please?
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Chapter 4: The Scarface Methodology.
“Wolves on the Border is a novel watching the Dragoons in service to the Combine - from start to finish. Both internally inside the Dragoons and the Combines political machinations around them, Takashi and other Warlords. Right up to their eventual flight from the Combine in thirty twenty eight into the Draconis March and starting their own private war against House Kurita.
I'm looking forward to more of the whole story, but how Hanse treats the Dragoons and the clans as a whole should be really interesting.
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Dude
seriously good stuff
but leaving Sorenson speechless and then Davions reaction to "The Bitch" was epic, but completely sensible as he is/will be her father
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Did you mention the dark nebula and Camalot command? Or the ruins of Gabriel? While the later is currently occupied by Comstar the warships cached in both locations could make fedcom unstoppable.
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Chapter 5: Release the Hounds!
***
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My first thought of Patrick Kell was that he was a recruiting posters wet dream. He cut a rather striking figure in his BDUs, certainly looking the part of an elite Mechwarrior. And given that he had almost single handedly held what was left of the Kell Hounds together after Morgan had his nervous breakdown, fired two thirds of his Mechwarriors and run away; he was not someone I was inclined to underestimate.
With the younger Kell brother came a number of officers, including Dan Allard, who clearly both knew and was happy to see Ardan again and to whom Ardan passed on a hug from his father (in a kind of adorkable manly way) that got a chuckle from everyone present. The rest of the officers names were vaguely familiar to me but the only one I recognized was Salome Ward. The future wife of Morgan … and mother of Phellan Kell.
Everyone's favorite traitor.
On the other hand, her first reaction to seeing Morgan return in the original timeline wasn’t to gush over him like the other idiot Mechwarriors, but to punch him in the face and storm off, so bully for her. She could hardly be held accountable for her son’s actions I suppose.
Enough people were in the briefing room on the jumpships grav deck that we were rather tight for space. I squeezed in between the commander of the Guards Jump Infantry and the leader of the technical team handpicked from NAIS on a fold out seat. A few lower ranked officers (as in one star Generals) seemed a little surprised to see me in the room but as none of the top brass even blinked at my presence, they kept their mouths shut as the briefing started.
***
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***
“Alright” Ardan started the briefing with a nod after the hatches into the room were dogged down. “Our mission for the First Prince and Archon is an objective raid on the Stewart Commonwealth world of Helm”. The holoprojector engaged as the lights dimmed. A map of the Inner Sphere showing the Lyran/League border and the relative positions of the fleet and Helm flashed for a few seconds, before it zoomed ‘in’ to show first the star system, then in on the planet itself. “The secondary target of this raid” Ardan continued, “is a cache of SLDF Mechs, vehicles, equipment and other such supplies we strongly suspect are in a depot under the Nagayan Mountains” and with that, a part of the globe flashed with a red circular targeting marker on a mountain range just barely visible on the hologram, zooming into a 3D map of the region.
Damn that was cool. Sure it was probably not as high-def as something ComStar or the Clans might have … but it was a free standing holograph! Awesome!
“How big a cache are we talking about?” Patrick asked, clearly doing the sums on the cargo hauling capacity the Archon had sent along...
Ardan then glanced at me and all my geeking out vanished behind a stab of sudden nerves. He knew the answers of course, but he insisted, firmly, that he wanted me to lead the briefing on these questions.
Apparently he thought I had a strong future ahead of me in this kind of staff work after some of the conversations and insights I had offered. Which I thought was bullshit; having unique insights into people thanks to foreknowledge didn’t make me any less a complete armchair General, but who the hell was I to tell a man the Guards thought could walk on water -with an Assault Mech!- that?
Clearing my throat, I gave the best answer I could remember from Gods knows how much speculation on Spacebattles about what could have been there, based in turn on Carlyle's too few observations in the book and probable SLDF unit structures.
“Best estimate is probably between two and six Regiments of Mechs and a comparable or greater number of armoured vehicles” I said clearly and steadily as every eye in the room snapped to me in surprise. “We can expect late Star League SLDF regulars equipment in all probability, but there will probably be a considerable amount of advanced Star League weapons technology nonetheless given its vintage. Also an undetermined number of supporting units, infantry gear, general supplies and logistics support, spare parts and so on…”
“As I recall, Helm was heavily hit in the opening battles of the First Succession War” Patrick noted into the slightly stunned silence evenly. “Something about a logistics base raid?”
Huh, man has a good memory. I mean, there were a lot of planets blasted to hell in the first two Succession Wars, sad to say...
“Correct I nodded. “Helm had been a key base of operations for the SLDFs Army Group Marik during the civil war, with a major logistics hub on the ground. After the SLDF jumped out of the Inner Sphere and while Free World League factions were squabbling over who had the legal rights to it, Minoru Kurita quickly sent a heavy strike force to seize and make off with the supplies, citing the precedents of ‘Might makes Right’ and ‘Possession is nine tenths of the law’”.
Ha! Got a number of smiles at that joke!
“However” I continued, “he found nothing there. Kerensky, it was assumed, had loaded up the contents onto his fleets and left nought but empty warehouses. True to form, Minoru decided to throw a temper tantrum at the wasted trip and launched a saturation nuclear bombardment that killed about eighty percent of the planetary population before leaving” and with a gesture at the tech, the holograph of the world vanished to show a scattering of stills and vid pictures of the destruction from archives I had been able to find prior to leaving New Avalon.
Well that killed the mood. Variations of ‘****** snakes’ echoed around the briefing room at that from both Guardsmen and Hounds. Heartwarming the way hate for the Draconis Combine could bring everyone together so easily from opposite sides of the Sphere...
“So I guess this ‘apparently’ was not quite accurate?” Patrick continued, unerringly drilling down into my briefing in a way that was just slightly unsettling, but kept things moving.
“To the best of our intelligence” I started and I didn’t miss the eye rolling from some others as I pushed forward quickly “the officer in charge of the Freeport logistics base, Major Edwin Keeler, did not join Kerensky on the exodus. Instead he decided that with the SLDF going, total war was more likely than not to break out. Accordingly, with remarkable foresight, he decided to hide what Kerensky did not take. Keeping it safe for the SLDF to use when they returned, presuming I suppose that Kerensky wouldn’t be gone long. But just in case he was …” I paused here, to glance at Ardan.
Partially for effect I admit. I did have some sense of the dramatic after all.
“Suffice to say this next information is absolutely need to know. It will not be discussed outside this room” Ardan said, looking everyone in the room in the eye and getting an acknowledgement from them and raising the tension in the room a notch that he was taking this so damn seriously, before he turned back to me and nodded. “Proceed agent Smith”.
“Major Keeler also placed in the cache a Star League library core” I said slowly and clearly.
I wanted to make damn sure no-one missed or misunderstood this.
“A database containing civilian and Military information across most every key field of human knowledge. We’re talking both the complete scientific and engineering data to, from first principles, build the tools to build the factories to build the tools to build late Star League era technology. From advanced weapons to Jumpships and Warships. From the most basic to impressive civilian hardware such as terraforming technology and biomedical tech that House Cameron held close to its chest. Knowledge chosen specifically as a doomsday record of last resort to ensure humanity could recover the Star Leagues complete knowledge should the war Keeler thought was coming do … well, exactly what it did do. In short; you may consider this the ultimate anti-lostech device”.
The room had gone dead silent as I carefully laid out exactly what we were going after. It took a good five seconds for some Guardsman in the back to sum up the general thoughts of everyone in a low whisper.
“Jesus H Christ...”
“Our primary objective is thus to recover this core and evacuate it - along with any other salvage we can without compromising extracting the core - to Tharkad” Ardan took back the briefing smoothly, wrenching the shocked gazes back to him and snapping them out of it with his crisp tone, kickstarting their military discipline. “Specialist Rastcor” Ardan gestured to one of the other civilians in the room, “from the New Avalon Institute of Science and his team are probably the best Star League era computer experts in the Federated Suns. They will be responsible for finding, securing and extracting the core. Make no mistake ladies and gentlemen” Ardan looked around” with a pointed gaze. “For the sake of getting this core -or at least a complete copy- to safety, the First Prince considers this entire task force, if need be, expendable”.
I expected an uneasy ripple at that but got nothing but dead silence. Either they were all still in shock at what they were going after … or they all grimly agreed with that conclusion given the sheer stakes of this mission they were now aware of.
“Sir” General Lawrence, commander of the 14th Lexington Armored Regiment asked into the silence as the officers digested that statement. “Where on Helm are we hitting?” Again Ardan nodded to me and I took the hint.
“AO will be in the vicinity of the Nagyan Mountains - exact location will be slightly dependant on some specific … intelligence ...we’re waiting on” I said, expecting to get another eye roll at that, but a clearing of a throat directed my attention to the back of the room.
“I can speak to that” a man in civilian clothes who I had noticed leaving the Kell Hounds shuttle spoke up. I blinked, not even having seen him enter the room, but confidently he stepped around to the front near Ardan and Marshal Felnser.
“Ah, Agent Williams, good” Ardan noted, glancing around to quickly explain. “Prince Davion sent a number of MI5 and MI6 teams into the Free Worlds League to lay the groundwork for this operation some months ago. Your report?”
The other straightened at that - his civilian sort of air vanishing as I recalled that unlike MIIO, DMI were in fact serving members of the AFFS. “Got back from Stewart two weeks ago via Helm, Sir. While at the Jump point posing as a commercial freighter passing through, we got an encrypted update from the ground team there - it was a hefty burst, but it contained the second package you were waiting for”.
Ardan shared an intense look with me before turning back and I felt that kind of butterflies in the stomach deal hit me as this got more and more real. “You have both?”
The other smiled faintly and moved forward to the thin table that ringed around the holoprojector, placing his briefcase carefully on it. He then worked the combination locks very carefully, before retrieving a key from a pocket and, with it in place, carefully opened the armored case.
Inside, carefully placed into a foam insert, was a small black rectangular device about the size of my iPhone with a faded purple eagle drawn on it that I recognized as a memory chip. Essentially a portable solid state hard drive.
THE memory chip … I hoped.
The Colonel accepted it before he carefully handed it off to the technician with a few muttered orders, the NCO inserting it into a slot on his console and getting to work.
“Any problems stealing it?” I asked in a tone that could best be described as ‘forced casual’. The DMI agent actually laughed at that, a short bark of contempt.
“SAFE are hit and miss at the best of times” the other didn’t quite roll his eyes. “This time the coin came up tails; most of the Stewart family are offworld on vacation on Marik -probably plotting takeover attempt number six of the Captain Generalship- and took their best security with them. Everyone left was pretty much asleep. We got into the archives past three rent-a-cops who didn’t even leave their break room and swapped the chip for something that looks the same, without anyone the wiser. Short of plugging it into a machine, no-one will ever know the difference I’d bet. And most likely they’ll just assume the old thing finally kicked the bucket”.
I got the distinct feeling that the spy was mildly insulted at his crack team, probably one of the very best in the entire Federated Suns used to daring missions against deadly, competent enemies, being sent in a priority one rush … to steal a worthless trinket from a planet that was asleep,
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is this?” General Felger, XO of the Mech Regiment (and more typically its CO when the Marshal was busy leading the RCT) asked. And again Ardan nodded to me.
“In part, this is in essence a badge of office for the noble invested into the land hold of Helmfast. Which is basically the whole planet minus the capital. The chip should contain a Star League era high resolution map of the entire planet - before the Snakes blasted it that is” I added as the map in question loaded onto the screen.
It was hard to not grin like a madman right now.
“And if we combine it with the requested current maps...” I left the hint hanging and with a smile, Agent Williams retrieved another item from inside his case, this time a standard holo-disk. Looked exactly like a CD, but I knew its data storage was on the order of hundreds of terabytes, with data stored in multidimensional holographic constructs rather than the 2D laser etched storage used in CDs/DVDs/BlueRays back in my time.
“The locals idea of flight control is ‘just don’t bother us until you’re ready to ground at Helmsdown” Williams grunted as he passed the disk over. “The inbound team were able to make multiple passes at multiple angles over the target area with a high resolution imager before landing to conduct trading for our cover and put a ground team into play”.
“And their cover is?” Ardan asked with a raised eyebrow. I recalled he had very little time for the cloak and dagger side of things, only slowly growing to understand that not all battles were fought on the open field. The events of ‘The Sword and the Dagger’ at least had seemed to make him understand that Hanse had to play those games - and play them better - or else he’d lose everything...
“Selling stolen top of the line Lyran medical equipment at a very very cheap price. Not that they say it's stolen of course, they are just a ‘free trader’ who jumped the border for some reason and are selling it at five percent market price on a planet that wouldn’t even get close to being able to afford it normally. Locals get their hospital in Helmsdown up to standards you might actually consider near acceptable equipment wise and our team has no questions asked as they sit around waiting for the next free jumpship collar to wander through - which is about two weeks away”.
I nodded in approval of that. The people of Helm - hells the Free Worlds League in general - were hardly Kurita or Liao. And I knew the locals would never have gotten so much as one eagle if they had found the cache; the Duke of Stewart, Captain General and probably every other province would have shown up wanting a piece. And Comstar would have probably just slipped in and nuked it (and framed the Lyrans for the dead of course) while they were busy arguing over the thing.
A refurbished hospital in exchange for the cache might sound like a rather dud deal … but to be brutally honest, it was a step up from what they got in the past - which was a little civil war on their planet followed by a whole load of nothing. And the locals probably couldn’t care about wider geopolitics, just delighting in the fact that they didn’t have to fly to another system to get an MRI now or wait for the very infrequent mobile hospital dropships that showed up to rent their services.
“Any military activity?” Ardan brought my attention back
“Zip according to the report” the man said shrugged. “No line units, just the local militia who barely know one end of their rifles from the other and would be hard pressed to stop a scout Lance, let alone what you’ve brought. The latest LIC reports of activity on the border are also on the disk, complements of Simon Johnsons people”.
“Anything else to report?” Ardan asked.
“No Sir”.
“Very well. You’re dismissed for now Agent Williams, we’ll debrief in full later. And I remind you this briefing is classified”.
“Roger that Sir” the other saluted and left. When the door closed behind him, then Ardan nodded to the tech.
The holographic projection split at that point, the left hand side showing the old map from the Star League era chip, the right the map scanned by the Stealthy Foxes dropship as it orbited. Apparently the Star League standards for topography and mapping were still fully in force and it allowed a quick calibration to the point that each map was showing the same location to the same scale. And the difference between the verdant world on one side and the one with only patchy signs of greenery on the other was slightly depressing. ****** snakes.
Gods, I was starting to sound like a local. And to be slightly fair, Kurita were hardly the only party guilty of ****** over entire planets in the succession wars…
“What else is in the chip Agent Smith?” General Felger cut into my thoughts as the tech recalibrated the maps.
“Pardon me General?” I asked turning to face the other.
“You said in part it's the maps, what else is on it?” he insisted, his eyes narrowed.
“Ah. In essence, that chip contains a secondary command layer, either in the firmware or its software. Undetectable if you plug it into just any computer. But when the chip is interfaced with a specific ‘gatehouse’ computer outside the cache, it will authenticate us as authorised personnel, open the gate and shut down the security systems”.
“And how could you possibly know that?” the General pressed, sounding unconvinced.
“That is classified level Sword-One ” Ardan answered for me - causing the General to immediately shut up and almost cringe back into his seat as if a child scolded. ‘Prince’s Eyes Only’ meant that they did not need to know and that Hanse had made judgements on my knowledge personally. Ergo, questioning it would be questioning their Prince; end of discussion. “As for where the cache is; Agent Smith?”
I nodded, standing up and feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on me as I gestured to the tech working the computers. “Sergeant, can you mark out the locations of Helmsdown, Freeport and Helmfast please?” I asked and in seconds the barely visible urban center of Helmsdown, rubble of Freeport and invisible landhold of Helmfast (seriously, no creativity in the names here) were tagged on the main continent on the current map.
Oriented, I nodded. Showtime. Gods I hope this was correct - but on the plus side this was also a nominal abort point if my information was way out of whack.
“Okay, first, you can all note a few things changed after the bombardment. Can you please refocus in on Freeport? Scale one to one thousand”.
The pictures both swirled and dove through the ‘sky’ until the city of Freeport in all its former glory with the gleaming green/blue sea … and the ruins of freeport on the grey and dead seabed were side by side.
The signature of orbital bombardment and major nuclear detonations were also painfully clear.
“Please note that Freeport and the inland sea that used to be there are several hundred meters above the planetary sea level. Suffice to say that entire area was searched pretty heavily by Kurita for his loot before he gave up and more than one Lostech prospector has searched since without any trace. But our information was that while the cache was moved, it was not moved far. Without Jumpships, the people on the ground didn’t have the ability to do so” and with that I stabbed a finger at the bloody red river snaking away from the town towards the south west. “The river is the key to the cache. Follow it please and cut back out to one to ten thousand?”
Obediently the viewpoint on both screens started to follow the line. On one, despite its red colour (as I recalled some algae or what not caused that), it was a healthy river, full of water bouncing along as it cut its way through the region. On the other screen … it was no longer a river, just a dry riverbed. Dried up, yet still faintly red even after all these years.
“The Vermillion river cuts across the planes, through the foothills of the Nagyan Mountains and into deeper canyons until … there, right there” I smiled with a sudden surge of confidence as, just like in the original novel, the river took a sharp turn and vanished under what looked like a massive overhang after the tech zoomed right in.
On the original picture that was.
On the right, while the riverbed was still visible and distinctive the river itself no longer flowed. But more interestingly, a large boulder in the first had seemingly of its own will, stood up on its side to block that end of the canyon and cave where the river had apparently vanished. And, had been rather clearly to my eyes, squared off. Also sitting off to the side was the truncated pyramid of the ‘gatehouse’ as I thought of it, an artificial structure not present in the past.
Which wasn’t really proof of anything, it could have been anything after all. But for me it was the first real evidence that this WAS exactly like in Battletech and not a wild goose chase.
“Zoom back and move to the west … okay hold it” I said as the crimson line re-emerged, three or four klicks away in a straight line distance, on the reverse slope and side of the mountain. “And now, the river re-emerges and eventually winds its way into the sea. And clearly has other sources of water, although it's still almost dry today. So. How did it get from one side to the other. Anyone?”
“Probably just an underground cave system” Daniel Allard responded first with a shrug. “There are plenty of examples across the Inner Sphere of rivers digging under and through mountains or terrain to reemerge on the other side. I know on Kestral there is a river that goes about two klicks under a mountain before coming out and some crazy people like to put on scuba gear...” he started to tell a story when suddenly his words caught up with him and he straightened slightly, his eyes widening in sudden revelation. “An underground cave system…”
Ah, with the repetition and emphasis, suddenly everyone in the room started to shift and glance at each other. Now they were getting where I was going with this and I smiled as I started to explain…
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Chapter 6: We’re not looting, we’re salvaging...
Okay … so that went well.
I mean Murphy was still absolutely a thing that held 100% true in this universe, no-one taunted murphy. But the whole ‘no battle plan survives contact with the enemy’ … is predicated on the enemy showing up or having a clue what the hell you were doing.
I have to say it was in its own way, a heartwarming ****** YOU to ComStar; given the events of The Price of Glory where 12 million people were casually killed by ROM as part of their plan to deny the cache to mankind. It had actually struck me when I remembered that and that it would surely not happen this time around, that if I was worrying about butterflying events that didn’t happen before, meaning deaths that I would be responsible for … well, there was a whole other side to that ledger as well.
Anyway, so, we jumped in…
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My fears were that we would see a fleet of military Jumpships waiting for us or a ComStar warship or hell, even a civilian with a fully charged core who would run the hell away to sound the alarm in a panic …
But there was nothing. Not even a basic satellite inside the jump zone that was programed to sound the alarm when something dropped in. Helm was that much of a backwater right now - and technology still scarce enough that it wasn’t worth wasting it on a place like this.
With the kind of ease that spoke of their elite status, both units dropships detached and started their runs as the jumpships unfurled their jump sails, the Kell Hounds accelerating a tad faster to get ahead of us. A coded transmission to the Rabid Foxes giving them their targets and timeframe raced out, the transmission making it to the planet in minutes as we crawled along the four day trip.
Oh yeah. Sleeping at 1.3Gs? Uch! I was in awe of the ability of the seasoned troops to casually sleep in such conditions - and hell, I had what passed for a stateroom, shared with Ardan while they had tiny racks in their bays. Spaceflight without inertial dampening technology was way overrated. What was worse was the waiting though. My part was done for now and even as all the units and subunits found useful busy work to occupy themselves with as they completed pre-drop checklists and briefed, all I could do was wait and second guess myself.
Not exactly pleasant. I would have killed for my iPad or iPhone but both were probably stuck in some NAIS lab in dozens of pieces. On the plus side, I was enjoying reading McMannons Military Guide 3025 - the ‘Janes’ of the 31st century in the Federated Suns. It had a lot of information on Mechs and units of all the Successor States - the sad truth was that there was very little ‘classified’ about the capabilities of the platforms in use by all sides after centuries of war.
Although I swear to God, the 31st centuries idea of an ebook reader...uch!
Anyway. The Hounds dropped on schedule half a day ahead of us. Their relayed transmissions - as well as a more subtle one from the Rabid Foxes on the ground - had confirmed that the ‘attack’ had been a complete success so far. The sensor network had not even been cut off but hacked to show a sensor loop. It was a very old trick but with the lack of traffic in space around Helm, a perfectly viable one so that the first clue the locals had of what was going on was when a flotilla of Dropships appeared on the short range ATC radars, raining ‘Mechs. Then, as morning broke, a lot of people were first terrified … then scared … then uncertain … then really confused.
I mean it's one thing for a Battalion of Battlemechs to show up in the middle of the night. On a raid. This is the 3rd Succession War after all.
It’s another thing for them to do little more than just walk around town amusing themselves. Literally, walking down the streets … and obeying the traffic lights and stopping at pedestrian crossings as early morning walkers found other far taller walkers out for a stroll. I mean, the Hounds were broadcasting pictures in the clear that were being re-transmitted by the local media for God’s sake! Most hilariously of a Wolverine casually walking up to an utterly clueless Industrial Mech doing early morning work on the city outskirts and clearly completely in the dark about the planetary invasion, to tap it on the shoulder. Causing the other dented and well-used machine to clunk and turn around … and then drop the steel girder it had been holding in pure shock when it saw the lance pointing guns at it, frantically raising its arms straight up in a panic like it was being mugged.
Salome Ward was clearly enjoying herself.
We on the other hand we're having a very different kind of fun.
Our insertion over the sea was timed perfectly, taking place in the brightest part of the local day so our fleets drive flares would hopefully be lost in the glare of sunlight. We crossed the coast at thirty thousand feet over a nuked minor city and slowly descended in tight formation over the clouds, above the mountains. The Kell Hounds Jump Infantry and the command Lance of Patrick Kell departed from their dropship as we passed over the objective (have to admit, it was spectacular seeing the massive war machines on the vid ‘step out’ above the spectacular cloud covered mountains like giant parachutists) even as the rest of our Dropships brutally converted from supersonic angled flight to vertical flight in a wild series of maneuvers that had us skidding to a halt over the LZ.
At which point we dropped like stones.
I’m pleased to say I did not throw up and congratulated myself on my foresight of eating very lightly at the final meal an hour before we hit the atmosphere. Without a fixed reference point and only the tiny repeater screen on the bulkhead to look at while strapped into my acceleration couch, it wasn’t pleasant.
All the more because of the wild cheering and whistling from the Guardsmen around me who clearly thought this was awesome.
Even as we dropped the last thousand feet Battlemechs started departing the fleets’ ships on jump jets or jump packs; a full Battalions worth was on the ground and fanning out to secure the LZ before we were, with the rest disembarking within ten minutes of grounding. Swarms of armour followed and in less than an hour three mixed regiments of armor, Battlemechs and some supporting units (almost 3070s LCTs I had thought idly) were moving off to their chosen defensive choke points around the cache region; each with enough firepower to stop a hostile Mech Regiment dead in its tracks.
It was all in all a pretty remarkable feat of organization. Granted none of this was under fire, but even so you got the feeling that this was the kind of evolution the Guards practiced for constantly in Garrison and it showed.
So. With the main defensive force deployed and the camp guards standing first watch, it was time for for the RCT Command Company to push to the cache itself. The three regiments of infantry going with us loaded into their APCs with only minor grumbling; clearly wanting to enjoy the fresh air and open spaces for a while longer before getting back into enclosed spaces.
I however would not be riding with them as I expected.
No; I would be riding in Ardan Sorteks Victor to get there.
Which was ****** awesome!
I mean the jump seat was rather cramped as I was decently tall, but not more than an economy airline seat - and we weren't walking far.
The first few minutes were a little hair raising I’ll admit. A Battlemech was unlike any other underway vehicle I had ever sat in and the feel of it walking rather than driving …
Best analogy I could think of was those two or three seconds when a landing aircraft had its rear wheels hit the ground and it felt like the pilot was really fighting to keep it on the runway as he dropped the nose? The Mech seriously felt like it was on the verge of falling over with every step!
I slowly got used to it as we moved onwards - or at least learned to ignore it and just geeked out over the war machine. My jump seat was actually offset from the command couch so I could look past Colonel Sorteks chair and out the tiny window - or more usefully at the compressed holographic display. We were moving as part of the RCT command company, with Felsner beside us in his Cyclops with a pair of Jaggermechs on point. A flight of Ferret class scout VTOLs were doing the main scouting, zigging and zagging above us on overwatch supplemented by a lance of jumping mediums (yes the Heavy Guards did have limited numbers of Mechs in other weight classes for tactical flexibility) pacing us up on the ridge line.
I sat back and tried to enjoy the ride as Ardan stomped his way down the river, half listening to the radio chatter on the command net, which was actually pretty minimal and limited to line of sight laser coms so as to not alert any FWLM listening posts that might be somewhere in the region. Unlikely, but clearly Felsner was neither a risk taker nor a micro-manager.
Which was a good sign and fine by me. And soon enough, we arrived.
“Okay, we’re here” Ardan called back and I looked up as we stepped around a curve in the Canyon and dry riverbed winding its way into the mountains. Ardan was being cautious I noticed, gripping the controls, ready to unleash the gigantic autocannon in the Victor's arm as needed as he moved up to flank the Marshal, before he relaxed at what he saw.
It was a pretty typical box canyon, I suppose. The dry riverbed was perhaps ten meters wide at this point, rising to a bank on each side a few hundred meters across of mostly gravel with a few bits of tough shrubs stubbornly holding position through it. Directly ahead, the river had seemingly run into a mountain in the same way a sentence runs into a full stop, a sheer brown/grey rock face rising hundreds of meters into the air before sloping back out of sight, the ‘wall’ wrapping around to form the canyon itself. The riverbed terminated in the ‘boulder’ although the outline where the cave used to be seemed pretty clear to me. Even so, the ‘boulder’ had been positioned exquisitely; looking for all the world like a lump of sheer cliff that had snapped off and slid down to embed itself in some avalanche, sealing off the cave.
The work was so damn good that despite everything I knew I still had slight doubts. For all the complaints I used to (and still occasionally did) make about the future of the 1980s in terms of the technology around me, the Star Leagues mega-engineering skills could have had the discovery channel doing Megastructure specials for a century back home.
“Welcome all” Patrick Kells voice came over the command net. “We’ve scouted the entire area and we’re clear of any indigenous presence” the other said. Squinting past Ardan I finally picked out the Kell Hound lance loosely strung across the left hand side of the valley near the gatehouse, with what looked like Infantry dotting the grounds in rather good cover to screen them. From there the Hounds would have been able to catch any hostiles in a pretty damn withering firepower concentration, even as the bend would have blocked any easy attempt to return the favor. “Situation is secure here and we’re ready to move in”.
Felsner replied cordially to him and things moved quickly from there. More and more people arrived until the area looked more like a parking lot than anything, with the Mechs stacked up like some SWAT team outside a door near the head of the valley and the infantry grouped up too, but everyone on my advice was far enough back just in case the opening dislodged any debris or anything from the cliff above. I didn’t pay that much attention until suddenly Ardan called my name probably a good half an hour later.
“John? We’re ready. No change in your instructions?”
“Nope” I replied with a shrug I knew he couldn’t see, feeling a little stiff in the seat I was strapped tightly into. It hadn’t really been designed for long term occupancy, but it beat walking from the dropships and I tried to focus. “Power up the terminal in the gatehouse, patch in the chip … and let's see what happens.
“Alright. And … here we go” he said (I winced, recalling Heath Ledger as ‘The Joker’ saying that) and I held my tongue as the techs in the gatehouse carefully powered up the computer - and resisted the urge not quite at gunpoint to start poking at it and its software; instead just slipping the memory chip into the slot.
For a heart stopping five seconds, nothing happened.
And then something did.
The first thing was the sudden launching into the air of a flock of birds, squawking and fleeing from a tiny perch in the cliff face above the boulder. Moments later, a light rain of debris showered down the cliff as everyone staring at it held their breath … then there was a jolt.
One that I felt even though the ‘Mechs shock absorbing feet and knee joints.
A rectangular door was now visible inside the ‘boulder’, appearing as if by magic out of the solid stone as it slowly retracted into the mountainside. A wave of dust billowed from the area around it as it eased backwards, the Mech’s external audio pickups relaying a stone-on-stone grinding noise. I could see the Infantry much closer seemed to be having slight difficulties staying on their feet until finally the stone with another jolt stopped moving back. And then it started to slide off to the side, revealing the dark cave behind.
“Keith you magnificent bastard” I snarked, “I read your book!”
“Patton, 1970” Ardan laughed from in front of me and I blinked at the back of his neurohelmet.
“You still watch those movies?” I asked, slightly amused.
“As it so happens, 20th and 21st century cinema is still incredibly popular, to this day over most other years, for various reasons. But the Davion Guards as a whole do have a bit of a soft spot for Second World War movies, I’ll admit”.
Moments later, the door seemed to have completed opening. With a simple hand gesture from Kells Thunderbolt, the ‘Hounds infantry swarmed, leaping forward in a blur and hiss of jump packs, vanishing in pairs into the darkness. There was an agonizing wait of ten minutes or so with only brief code words coming back before the all-clear came back and the Mechs could move, easing up into the cache one at a time.
I felt myself wincing slightly as Ardan had to sort of duck into the doorway for the rather tall Mech to fit in, but soon enough we entered the darkness - and Ardan flicked on his Victors ‘headlights’.
The cavern inside wasn’t very big (well, from a Battlemechs perspective) and was featureless except for two things. Firstly, a tunnel ahead that descended off further into the darkness. Secondly, what amounted to a small building extending out from the cave wall. With a tap on Ardans shoulder, I directed him there. A quick radio transmission later and our Mech was carefully backed up against the wall just outside the ‘building’, slumping as it powered down to a standby status. We were joined by the Mechs of the Marshal (who left a ComTech working his Mechs Command Console to keep him linked to the RCT) as well as Patrick Kell himself, who clearly did not want to miss this, with the remaining Mechs standing guard at the only two other access points into or out of this initial area.
Of course, this position meant I had to descend a chain ladder from the Victors cockpit. Downside of an Assault Mech; It was a long way to the ground -a very solid ground- no matter how Godlike it made you feel. And even with a couple of Kell Hounds infantry holding the bottom of the ladder (and no doubt thinking snarky thoughts about how awkward I was on it for a vaunted Mechwarrior) it wasn’t exactly pleasant to descend.
Still, I made it with my body if not dignity intact and we met up with the other Mechwarriors at the door, as well as a squad of troops - who were holding back the dozen computer experts from NAIS. They had followed us in and were impatiently shuffling from one foot to the other like kids on Christmas morning, waiting to see what Santa had put under the tree.
I could understand that, based on the literal writing on the wall I could see in the glare of Mech mounted floodlights.
Star League Field Library Facility, Helm. DE890-2699.
Well, this was it.
Felsner thus flatly refused to let anyone in until it was swept no matter how much the techs were threatening to start hyperventilating and so we all waited (some with more grace than others) as the Hounds carefully checked it out. The three Mechwarriors took the time to pull on jumpsuits over their cooling vests and shorts - while I tried not to fiddle with my AFFS field BDUs and combat webbing. I still wasn’t really comfortable wearing the uniform but Ardan assured me MIIO personnel in the field in my situation would also have to wear the uniform without rank - and if anything, he actually seemed pleased that I expressed how uncomfortable I was wearing a uniform I hadn’t earned in an army I wasn't actually part of.
Hadn't stopped him from telling me to shut up and wear it though.
With that said, the laser pistol on my hip I had been issued at Ardans instance was absolutely real and I had three weeks training with it to know that. Although I had to keep fighting the urge to pull it and make blaster noises by reminding myself that the ray gun wasn't a toy...
Anyway. Lights had come on inside the building as soon as the Kell Hounds troops had stepped inside and when the First Lieutenant in charge (whose team were one of the few briefed on what was in here and so took things very carefully) finally green lit the room as secure, Ardan insisted I take point. Probably to stop the Techs from charging in first and starting to press buttons. Inside and appreciating the warm light compared to the harsh spotlights of the cavern, I found myself in a small hallway with a very large workstation facing an entire wall sized screen at the far end.
“And it probably still can’t play Crysis” I muttered as I started down the hall towards it.
“What was that?” Ardan asked as he moved up behind me and I shook my head with a distant smile as I again felt that odd disconnection from my old life.
“Nothing” I said, moving in and looking over the console. It was a relatively simple affair; a keyboard, trackball and a number of auxiliary control panels, a few monitors and I/O slots that were this centuries (or the 28ths) equivalent of USB ports. It wasn’t really any more impressive than the computers back on New Avalon at NAIS … but it wasn’t the hardware that made this place a secret House Lords would depopulate entire worlds to get their hands on.
Turning back I looked at the crowd of people in the hallway. “Who has the chip?”
“I do” Specialist Rastcor spoke up in an awed, hushed voice like he had just entered a temple as he edged in.
“Here” I gestured him to the console and the external chip input slot. With incredible care (again, probably unnecessary because by God the SLDF had built things to last!) he took the chip back out of its tough case and slotted it into the data port prominent above the keyboard as he sat down. I stood behind him, crossing my arms and trying to look that confident that I knew what the hell I was doing.
Then the screen (really it was a wall sized projection) came on and white text flashed up.
‘The advancement and diffusion of knowledge is the only guardian of true liberty’. James Madison.
“Well, he’s not wrong” I shrugged as the interface bloomed to life on the screen followed by what seemed to be a massive table of contents that started to scroll. Then I paused as I heard no response, turning back to see that everyone, even Ardan, had their faces locked into expressions of stunned awe and it was only then that it really hit me what this was to them. Compared to me; a child of the Google Generation.
Knowledge.
The lost knowledge of the Star League; the ‘golden age’ of mankind whose heights humanity had fallen from and desperately wanted to returned to was now digitally displaying itself calmly for all their eyes. Freely available for the taking.
Merry ****** Christmas indeed.
“My God. It’s real. It’s really real” Fensler muttered in clear shock, the first time I had seen him lose his composure. He shivered in a way that I was sure had nothing to do with the residual temperature of the coolant vest he was wearing before he gathered himself with almost physical effort to face me and give a nod of genuine respect I doubted he gave very often to people he presumed were REMF spooks … and I felt distinctly uncomfortable all of the sudden.
Like a fraud.
Someone who had taken the works, risks and sacrifices of others and taken credit for them. I recalled from ‘The Price of Glory’ that the Grey Death Legion had fought a near constant stream of running battles for days to protect this find. Battles that had very nearly broken them and WOULD have broken a lesser unit. For all their later glory, Helm was pretty much considered their finest hour by the Inner Sphere well into the 3050s. The risks taken and sacrifices made to keep the knowledge safe and get it away from ComStars attempts to destroy it...
Granted that sacrifice would never happen now, meaning it was really only a Battletech novel and nothing more … and yet...
The younger Kell Brother broke me out of my musing (or perhaps brooding) as he just barked in triumph, startling me for a moment as he slapped me on the back - with I felt enough force to send me into low orbit - causing me to stagger forward a half step.
“Well then. It would appear congratulations are in order Agent Smith” Patrick said, offering me an almost boyish grin that I couldn’t help but sort of shyly return as he held out his hand for me to shake. Dammit he was just so … charismatic – ouch!
Also turns out he has quite a grip.
“I’ll accept congratulations when we have copies of the core” - with secondary and tertiary backups - “safely on Tharkad and New Avalon” I cautioned him as I released his hand and tried not to visibly work the feeling back into mine. “But I rather think with a little luck, we might just be able to make this year's Christmas celebrations at The Triad. Be a rather nice present for the Archon and First Prince”.
“Now that would just cap this off, wouldn’t it?” the Mercenary chuckled. Behind him, I could hear Fensler quietly taking on his headset radio via his Battlemech outside; alerting the most senior officers that the Primary Objective had been located and to standby for deployment orders. Turning back to the massive screen still cheerfully scrolling through its table of contents, I regarded Rastcor and stepped up to him carefully.
“Rastcor, you still with me?” I asked him quietly. I don’t think he had even blinked since we turned the thing on.
“Of course” he said after snapping out of it with a glance around, swallowing slightly as he looked back up at the screen and it seemingly hit him that this was as real as it gets and not just a theoretical exercise back at NAIS. This was something that made the legendary find at Halstead station look like nothing; the figurative Holy Grail that NAIS had been searching for since its founding … and he was the man on the spot.
Meaning he was also the man every one of his peers across history would look at as ‘that guy’ for the rest of his life if he managed to ****** this up.
-
“Ignore the databases for now” I instructed him gently but firmly. “This system should have both a map of this facility and an inventory. I’m not sure if you’re going to be able to bring them up without a lot more time learning this system, but...”
The implied challenge that he wouldn’t be able to do so brought him out of his slightly stunned state as I hoped it would.
“Hmm. Let’s see” he said, reasserting himself and tapping some commands. “Standard later Hegemony SLDF interface. I should be able to just bring up a terminal window if I … ah!” There were a trio of smaller screens on top of the command console, looking much like widescreen computer monitors back on Earth in my time. All of them now activated as secondary displays, including what looked like a pretty classic command line interface popping onto them which he started working. Thirty seconds later the scrolling index on the big screen vanished, replaced with a massive topographical map of the entire region instantly familiar as identical to that in the memory chip. However this one also had in bright red, the outline of the entire complex.
I couldn’t help but whistle at it as Rastcor zoomed in slightly. The complex straddled the Mountains, reaching far to the South East where the Vermillion plains started to edge between the equatorial sea and mountains. A dozen green dots marked the edges of the red shadow which I presumed were access doors given that one was exactly on our position, with more detail filling in with distinct levels, chambers and passages connecting them as the image slowly tilted and panned.
It had taken Grayson hours as I recalled to bring up the map using the pretty ‘idiot proof’ user interface. This man had done it in two minutes flat, with a command line.
Okay, perhaps he did know his stuff regarding Star League computers. So much the better.
“Okay then. Now, is there any way that you can export this for upload into the navigation computers of our units? So they can make their way around this place?” I asked with a considering tilt of my head.
The other considered the question, before rapid typing a series of commands, getting screens of text back and then switching to the GUI screen to open something that looked like a file tree which he scrolled through quickly, blinking as he found something. “Actually Agent Smith, it looks like whoever was here anticipated that request. The facility map has already been exported to a standard SLDF tactical map format” and with a quick flick of a trackball, the map was translated to the screen.
Now this looked exactly like the kind of maps I had seen running on Ardans computer screens in his Mech. Very cool. Tags and data flowed over the map in great detail seemingly showing preset navigation points and the like. Without looking away, the technician put a hand back over his shoulder and one of his subordinates without asking slapped a similar looking memory chip to the security one we were using. He pushed it into a free slot and with a blurred series of keystrokes and a brief ‘file transfer’ window that popped up on the big screen and then vanished before I could even really read it, he then pulled it back out.
“Done” he confirmed, turning and passing it to the waiting Marshal. “Inventory file is embedded into it as well”.
Felsner looked at the chip in his hands and took a deep breath to settle himself before his years of military discipline kicked back in as he turned to face Colonel Sortek.
“Right. Ardan, I need to get teams to start scouting and securing the facility. I’ll be on Tac-6 if you need me”.
“Copy that Sir” Ardan saluted him and had one returned quickly enough. The Marshal then offered me a military nod and left, leaving Ardan turning back to me with a sudden grin on his face. “You have things under control here John, so you’re in charge. I’m going to explore the immediate area a little more” Sortek decided without even bothering to ask me.
Wait. He expects me to run point on the most critical part of this entire ****** operation?
Oh hell no-
“I’ll come with if you don’t mind - I’m rather eager to explore this place” Patrick said, his gaze going somewhat distant and forlorn for a moment as he traced his eyes across the trove of Lostech. “Morgan would have loved to be here” he added wistfully. “When we were kids we were always talking about building a Merc unit to go and sail the stars, fighting bad guys and coming home with all the lost Star League treasure…” Shaking himself out of it almost at once, the younger Kell brother offered me a nod and headed out after Ardan.
Well perhaps if your brother wasn’t busy sulking and crying himself to sleep - I shook off that instinctive thought to have some pity and empathy for Patrick.
In his own way, he had lost his family when Morgan had run off, and I could relate to that.
Besides, there was some evidence that the whole Phantom Mech process caused major mental health issues to those who ‘broke into’ it … so I didn’t need to be a dick to the guy.
Anyway. It seemed I had a whole gaggle of over-excited techs to ride herd on. Better make sure they get on task before they do something stupid.
“Alright, let's get down to it” I tried to say in something like a commanding tone. “If the Major had any sense, given the purpose of this place, he should have set up a copy program to duplicate the core contents onto external media” I stated, knowing he had done exactly that.
“Already found it” one of the other techs working the secondary monitor chipped in, their confidence seeming to slowly return as the shock wore off and they started to focus on the smaller issues rather than the minor fact that this thing was going to at a stroke change the course of human history. “Just … hmmm”.
“Define ‘hmm’?” I asked.
“Well the copy program seems to build an index of the core, then dump it into a compressed archive which it then throws onto the external media. In fact it's already built the archive file and is ready to copy it across. The problem however-”
“It’s in a format that is no longer in use, or, was proprietary to this site and we would have no way of extracting the data again afterwards” I guessed as something clicked for me. “Not without building software from the ground up to data mine and index it manually which, given the scope of this, would be like giving a person a million piece jigsaw puzzle and no final picture” I added as my brow creased in thought.
Suddenly things made sense. The data here, inside the cache, was clearly accessible and fully indexed and linked. At a keystroke, you could bring up anything using an interface that looked roughly analogous to hyperlink markups and web pages. And yet I knew in the original timeline it had taken considerable effort to get at the data from the copies, with different states pulling different things out in different order bit by bit and byte by byte.
Although to be perfectly fair, the poor Grey Death Legion tech who had made the copy of the core wasn’t a handpicked NAIS computer expert with an RCT to hide behind, but a Mech Tech trying very hard to copy the core while House Marik Battlemechs were knocking on the front door …
“Well … yes actually” the tech said, all of them exchanging surprises glances, seemingly nonplussed at my casual commentary on computer matters I guess not that many ‘lay’ people were trained in.
Which said a lot of sad things about education in the Inner Sphere.
****** you Comstar.
“However the command program actually has a number of extended options” he said, gesturing back to the screen and a text file of some kind showing what looked like a manual page for the software. “One of them is to build the archive export using any number of different formats, including a standard Star League format that is still in use today. But the program will have to re-index and create the archive file from scratch”.
“Any idea what kind of timeframe we're looking at for that?” I asked. “I just need a rough guesstimate…”
The tech and Rastcor exchanged a glance, seemingly communicating telepathically before the later spoke up.
“Based on the amount of data here … six hours? Although after the archive is built, copying onto external media should only take half an hour or so per copy. The data transfer system built into this workstation is top notch” he finished on an upbeat note and I nodded at that. Alright if Ardan wanted me in charge, then fine I’d be in charge.
We were bloody going to do this the safe way.
“Okay, here's the plan” I spoke up, looking around to make sure I had everyone's attention before continuing. “Before you do anything else, copy the existing archive file onto two separate memory cores - and run concurrency checks to make sure their data is identical. I'll organize to have one loaded onto our ship, one onto the Kell Hounds command ship. They’re our failsafe so even if it will be a pain in the ass to extract it, the raw data is secure in case anything goes wrong or we have to evacuate in a hurry for some reason. Then you can run the commands to build a new archive in a format our systems can work with and copy that onto the remaining spare cores … which will be how many?”
“Of the size needed?” Rastcor considered the question, conferring quickly with his people before turning back. “Probably four. The existing archive file is over two fifty exabytes and we have six three-hundred exabyte cores. And frankly, I doubt the size is going to be very different using the more mainstream algorithms - if anything it might be smaller”.
“There may also be spare cores locally in storage around here somewhere” I added “but let's not count on that. Only make the copies from the original source and be sure to test these copies against each other. Let me know immediately when you’re done - or if you run into any problems. I'll have instructions where to store these cores for you later once I've conferred with Colonel Sortek. Then, our final goal is to pull the original core out of here without damaging it or setting off any security systems - which might include a self destruct sequence for the entire complex if the core is interfered with, so don’t even think about doing anything outside what we've discussed without the green light from myself or Colonel Sortek”.
Happily the techs all seemed to be nodding firmly at that, not eager to risk blowing themselves up. I paused to reflect for a moment, but decided that about covered it. And that I didn’t need to issue any threats about screwing around - I think they had focused in well now on the importance of the task in front of them - and dangers they were playing with.
“One last thing; remember if you need anything, you have first and absolute priority on personnel, supplies, equipment, whatever you need to get this done. In in doubt, call me. Anytime. Or if you can’t reach me, either Colonel Sortek or Marshal Felnser are ready to take your calls. Clear?”
“Very clear Agent Smith. We won’t let you down” Rastcor nodded to me, with a pleasingly determined yet serious expression on his face. Just about the right ratio of caution to determination I think.
“I know you won’t” I assured them with a tight smile. “Prince Davion handpicked each of you for a reason” I added to their clear shock and surprise. “So I have complete confidence in both your abilities and that you appreciate what this” I pointed at the screen “means. Good luck”.
Outside, I found the cave a bustle of activity. A constant line of APCs were driving through the door and vanishing down into caverns. Two Goblins wearing Kell Hound colors had been parked in the cave with two Mechs from Patrick Kells command lance standing nearby and a platoon of infantry busy around the cave fortifying both entrance and exit - with a couple of burly looking chaps standing guard outside the door to the library itself. I guessed they had orders that no-one not on ‘the list’ got inside … and I also guessed that they were far from happy with standing around the building while everyone else (including their CO) was playing Tomb Raider in a Star League cache. But they were clearly far too professional to complain as I walked past them and made my way outside the great doors (which on foot, I had to admit, were far more impressive).
The Mobile HQ vehicle of the Guards had arrived and set up while I was busy inside, parked up on the bank just outside the ‘gatehouse’. Two flagpoles with the standards of both the Kell Hounds and Davion Heavy Guards had been raised and the HQ itself had been ‘unfolded’. Now the vehicle formed one wall of a large semi-rigid field tent, with the stationary titan of the Marshals Cyclops standing silently next to it along with the paired Jaggermechs. Inside the tent was a pretty cramped command centre, with two dozen communications techs busy on tiny desks coordinating the Regimental Combat Teams operations across the battlespace. The Mobile HQ design was quite clever really. Lacking the kind of lightweight and compact C4i technology of the Star League era, it had been designed to provide a basic ‘on the move’ capability but otherwise was designed to rapidly unfold into a far less cramped portable command centre. A gaggle of senior officers at a slightly raised section were busy around Marshal Flenser, so I started to walk over that way.
“...some time tomorrow” one of his officers was saying, a small group of them standing over a map table showing the contemporary satellite image overlaid with a wireframe of the cache and hoards of unit markers. Dan Allard was there as well - in what I presumed was the Hounds field BDUs rather than a Mechwarriors combat gear, so I guess he was here to play liaison while Patrick and Ardan played Lara Croft. And he looked about as happy as his comrades in the Cache had been about that fact.
“Fine. We’ll need to confirm that with Major Ward as soon as the SatCom uplink is active…” and with that Flenser noticed me standing off to the side and gestured me in. “Ah Agent Smith, good, I was just about to call you for a status report. What’s the situation at the library?”
“Optimistic Marshal” I answered him, coming to something like parade rest. It surely couldn’t hurt to be as professional as possible after all. “Phase one is underway; we’re pulling a direct copy of the existing archive file and should have full copies of the core onto our dropships inside an hour or two. This data format is far from ideal to work with mind you; it would take years to decrypt it, if not a decade or more. But that’s our safety net to ensure that even in the worst case scenario before we start fiddling, we’d still have the entire database even if it took some time to make use of it”.
“Sound thinking” the other agreed and a flurry of nods agreed from around the table - clearly no-one wanted to even chance the loss of this priceless treasure. “What happens after that?”
“Luckily for us, it seems the library systems can export the database into more standard Star League formats that are still in use today. It’ll take something on the order of six hours or more to build this export file but once that is done, making new copies should only take half an hour. And the data on these cores would be fully accessible from the outset. We have sufficient cores to make four copies of this format and I’d like your permission to split these copies - and the first two backups for that matter - onto different dropships assigned to different jumpships under lock and key. To eliminate any single point of failure risk if we lose a dropship or jumpship”.
The Marshal turned to a Major waiting off to the side and made a ‘get on with it’ gesture, causing the other to salute and then hurry off to get things organized.
“Finally” I continued as he left, “after we’ve confirmed the data has been completely secured and duplicated to a sufficient level of redundancy” - although I found it hard to credit there was such a thing- “my instructions are to inspect the computer core and see about the possibility of removing it to take it with us. Failing that, if it cannot be removed, once we’re certain we’ve got all the data precisely duplicated and have finished all salvage activity; on the authority of Prince Davion, Colonel Sortek will give the order to destroy it”.
There was something of a shocked intake of breath around the table at that bombshell, as I had more or less expected. In this time period of Battletech, destroying Lostech items such as factories, jumpships and terraforming equipment was considered pretty much a flat out war crime.
Destroying the ultimate anti-Lostech device probably reached the level of ‘crime against humanity’ in their eyes - even if nothing would be lost given the backups. Indeed it was probably only that fact combined with me noting it was an order from Hanse Davion himself that their knee jerk outrage had been controlled.
“That is of course, the worst case scenario” I added, which seemed to ease up the tension a tad. “But we cannot leave this data intact for Marik - and more pertinently Liao and Kurita who will no doubt insist they share”.
“Thank you Agent Smith - I think we’ve all realized the strategic ramifications of leaving it intact” the Marshal pointed out - but he did so at least with a smile and nod that suggested he wasn’t trying to rebuke or dismiss me - and his words subtly reinforced my position with his authority. “Alright, can I call it twenty four hours to be able to completely download and secure the data for planning purposes?”
“Conservatively, yes sir” I nodded. “In all honestly, probably less than that”.
“Outstanding” he nodded before considering me and gesturing me to join them - slightly surprising me. “You might as well stay for the rest of the briefing then” he added before he turned to a man in a field uniform whose brown rank insignia I recall meant he was from the logistics branch. “General Flanders, you have a report?”
I admit to disappointment that he didn't declare ‘Hokaly-Dokaly MarshelReno!’
“Yes Sir” the officer said in deep rumble of a voice that was about as far from Ned Flanders as it was possible to get. “Preliminary analysis of the manifest file is completed, we have a listing of what’s in the cache - at least as of the last inventory. We don’t have eyeballs on it all yet, but the reports we’re getting from the scouting teams seem to match up so far”.
There was a sudden air of eager anticipation around the table at that as everyone leaned forward. The core was worth vastly more than the entirety of the equipment stored here, everyone knew that of course.
But the shinies!
Oh God, the shinies!!!
“The short version; on paper we have over five hundred Battlemechs, two thousand combat vehicles, another thousand various utility and support vehicles, twenty thousand SLDF field infantry kits and close to fifty thousand tons of various spare parts, supplies and equipment. The Mechs…” the man hesitated for a second, seemingly steadying himself. “Eighty percent of the Mechs are Assaults”.
The entire command tent -who were clearly not supposed to be listening in but everyone knew were listening in anyway - went almost silent. Felsner turned to glare at them and as if a switch had been thrown, they hurriedly went back to work with barks of orders from the junior officers overseeing them as the legendary professionalism of the AFFS reasserted itself.
“Eighty percent” the Marshal stated quietly - not even he able to keep the shock out of his eyes.
General Flanders simply nodded - clearly having had more time to digest this bombshell.
“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…” I muttered in a sing-song voice under my breath as I wracked my brain. I didn’t remember anything like that being noted from The Price of Glory. Then again, the descriptions of the Mechs had been pretty much limited to Carlyle being understandably frustrated that even as his units machines were getting blasted to pieces in fight after fight and being glued back together for the next, he had hundreds of gleaming SLDF machines sitting there he couldn’t use as it would take far too long to get them combat ready. Like a man dying of thirst being given a bottle of water impossible to open.
Assault Mechs were indeed the rarest of beasts in the Inner Sphere these days according to what I had read in McMannons Military Guide. The LCAF deployed the most - memes about them were exaggerated, but they still boasted almost a fifth of their Mech fleet in that class - with Heavies around a quarter more making them pretty top heavy. House Davion conversely could barely scrape up ten percent in Assaults, with seventy percent of their Mech Regiments TO&E made up of Lights and Mediums and the rest Heavies. House Kurita sat between the two - but with fewer regiments than the AFFS in total - almost like someone had been world building everything into a nice balance…
This many Assault Mechs could actually change the balance of power for House Davion in a small but real way. Only question being if you gave the Crushers a sibling or two … or attached a company each of the machines to sixteen or so RCTs for a breakthrough firepower boost in key units...
“Right then” the Marshal drew my attention back to the here and now. “What kind of tech are we looking at?”
“Agent Smith's information seems, as always, right on the money” the officer noted with a nod at me that made me fight off the urge to blush at the unabashed complement, probably very rarely given from line officers in whose minds ‘intelligence agent’ was an oxymoron. “We’re looking at late era SLDF regulars. Most of the mechs have one system or weapon that’s Lostech balanced out with standard current issue weapons, which should make maintaining them easier logistically speaking but a few according to the specs are high-end Royal builds. There are a lot of spare parts as well. And I mean a lot. For example according to this, there are at least a thousand Freezers sitting in one of the warehouses - still in their original packaging”.
“And before anyone asks” the Marshal added, “dibs rules are not, I say again not, in effect”.
There was a good humored chuckle at that that seemed to put the meeting back on an even keel, getting everyone to knuckle down and focus.
“So. Question number two; assuming the inventory is accurate, how long will take to load up this stuff and can we carry it all? Even with the Mammoths, that is a lot of gross tonnage…”
“The Mules are each carrying a full recovery crew with a platoon of prime movers, a couple of dozen industrial exoskeletons and some mobile lift hoists. Throw in my boys to help and we should be able to load up Battalion or so worth of platforms with each round trip. This is going to be a multi-day affair in all honesty” the officer shrugged helplessly - at which point I stepped in, recalling some information from the book.
“I might have some good news there” I spoke up, getting everyone's immediate attention. Possibly because so far I only seemed to bring good news. “We’ll probably have to get the infantry to do a full sweep to make sure, but according to our intelligence about this place, there should be fusion powered flatbed haulers in the cache. If we can get them working, we should be able to increase our movements of salvage quite a bit - if we can find people to drive them”.
“Make that a priority for your people to confirm Colin” Flenser ordered swiftly with a look at the commander of the infantry. “I want to hit the ground running on this one”.
“Understood sir” the other nodded, making a notation in a small noteputer.
“If need be, we can stand down the 14th Lexington from their reserve position and put their crews to work running them” the Marshal continued in consideration, lightly drumming his fingers on the holotable before nodding sharply. “In fact, on that note Felger I want you to pull two companies worth of Mechs with hands off the line to assist with the loading and unloading operations. Karen, as soon as we’re in position to start the recovery, round up all the loadmasters from our dropships and send them over to help. Once we start, we run non stop, which means rotations. I do not want to lose a grounded Mammoth filled with Lostech because some idiot decided crew rest was for losers, pushed it too far and caused a catastrophe. Everyone clear on that?”
“Yes Sir!” came back immediately and my respect for the man went up another notch. He was perfectly willing to use his Mechwarriors as glorified industrial mech drivers where I strongly suspected other unit commanders fully into the Cult of the Mechwarrior would reject the idea out of hand. He was also clearly seeing the timeframe for getting this done wasn’t going to be a few hours of smash and grab like Halstead Station had been, but that a sustained effort would be needed. And was smart enough to use his people accordingly and ensure they didn't burn out.
Well I suppose you didn’t get to be put in charge of Hanse Davion's favorite RCT without proving yourself significantly beyond merely ‘competent’.
“Now, the second question” he moved on. “How much of it can we take? I’m loathe to either leave things behind for the leaguers or have to destroy them. But I’d like it even less to find stuff we left behind pointed back at us a few years down the line”.
“We’re crunching the numbers” the logistics man stated, glancing at his own noteputer. “Best estimate for now is that we can load up all the Mechs, Vehicles and just about all the lostech gear if we use our own dropships to take the excess and if we triage for things we can leave behind like standard ammo, gauss rifle slugs and the like. But no question that we’re going to have to dump some stuff to make room on our ships”.
“Right. Start with our ammo stores - I don’t think House Davion is going to run out of autocannon shells anytime soon” he noted to a brief chuckle around the table. “Then if we still need room, the APCs can be tossed and we can store lighter vehicles from the cache in their place to free up more cargo space”.
The logistics officer nodded at that and make a notation - although the other General who I recalled was in charge of the Mechanized Infantry brigade didn’t look terribly happy at the idea. And understandably too. But then, his APCs were one of the cheapest and easiest military vehicles to make. One that could be replenished in bulk, even in 3025.
“Next question. LZs. Where do we load up from?”
“I think we’ve found an LZ for the Mammoths and Mules Sir” another officer, Karen I recalled, said, wearing the uniform of someone in the Naval arm of the AFFS. Clearly she led the RCTs aerospace elements, with a few keystrokes switching the holotables map around to focus on the western side of the range. “Based on the map, there is another access door here” and a green dot flashed on the southern edge of the mountains, where they edged away from the coast, creating a narrow spar of the Vermillion Planes right where the Vermillion river emerged on the other side of the range. It looked small on the orbital scan, but seemed more than large, wide and flat enough to bring the heavy ships in. “It’s defendable, but open enough for the loading and the ground looks ideal for the cargo ships”.
“Good work” Felnser said as he studied the map grid indicated. “We’ll have the infantry spend the evening finishing the sweep of the inside of the cache, then they can bunk down for the night. We’ll move the fleet across the mountains at first light - except McCloud's company. They stay here, with Wolli Pride, just in case someone comes looking for what all the noise is about and to defend the computer team” and with that he straightened and looked around his officers. “Any concerns or questions?” he asked and got a negative shake of heads. “Good. Now, Lieutenant, you have an update from Major Ward?”
Daniel Allard now stepped forward.
“Yes Sir” the younger Allard brother replied and he gave a straight forward yet amusing report of all the ways the Kell Hounds some distance away were amusing themselves, leaving the locals bewildered and trying to determine if this was a raid, occupation or some giant practical joke on behalf of the Lyran Commonwealth. The really good news was that the ComStar HPG hadn't broken its transmission schedule - it was due to send out the first batch of messages since we landed in just under 90 minutes. It suggested the locals were so damn confused about the situation that they hadn't seen a need to pay Comstars exorbitant fees for a priority message to Stewart. Which was excellent news indeed - for once ComStars greed was working against them. After all if a Class-B station could casually send an emergency transmission simply because the local Precentor wanted to, questions might get asked about why then they charged such a silly amount of money when others asked.
That decision might well cost the local Precentor his life. I did feel slightly bad for the local stations personnel though who would no doubt be caught up in the aftermath. I recalled that some idealistic ComStar adept had been critical to getting the Grey Death Legion out of their desperate situation and spreading the news about ComStars involvement in the war crimes on Sirius. A poor fool of an Adept who honestly believed the Precentor in question was an aberration and that ComStars inner circle were noble people with a noble mission. He had, at great risk, defied said Precentor and exposed his heinous actions (promptly disavowed as the actions of a rogue man by the ‘horrified’ First Circuit of course) and allowed the Grey Death Legion to get out with their precious cargo.
I doubted fate would be kind to him this time.
I suppose it was a good sign I could still feel guilty about such things … but I pushed it out of the way. After all, if I was going to stay my hand against ComStar because some of their ignorant low level personnel could get caught up in events, I might as well have stayed at home and started praying to my toaster.
Brooding as the briefing broke up, I made my way outside and found a nice rock to sit on across from the Cyclops, watching as dusk slowly gave way to evening as the sun set behind the canyon wall as I fished out a ration bar and tried not to wince at the taste.
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Liking this so far. Quite enjoyable.
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Definitely.
Me, I would have asked to see the League ambassador, but then to each their own.
Well written genre fiction with a nice twist.
W.
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:thumbsup:
Well done
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This sir is one hell of a story and can not wait to see more of what you have in mind of this SI and this is cool that he is not really big or super powered or anything. he is still just a normal human with something to offer a group of people to try to stop the coming idiots from other space and the dark age after that. The clans and then the rogue phone company.
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Really enjoying this
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Just read through this, really really enjoying it! A great mix of humor and character interaction as well as world building! Its a really good read and I hope it continues :)
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Chapter 7: Always the last place you look...
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It was amazing how efficiently armies worked when operations were ruled over with an iron fist by competent NCOs.
Like most professional armies, one of the key pillars of the AFFS was the training and skill of its non-commissioned officer corps. I had heard the role of NCOs once defined as being the lubricant through the machinery of officers and men. Without them, if you were lucky, you would have a poorly running machine that would seize up at the first sign of trouble. Or, more likely, you would find a machine that refused to start at all or ended up exploding spectacularly if you tried to force it to.
The Heavy Guards were clearly firm believers in applying generous amounts of lubricants to all the pieces of their machinery and were, to my delight, clearly a group who mostly shunned the whole ‘Way/Cult of the Mechwarrior’ BS that permeated the Inner Sphere. Not to say that Mechwarriors didn’t think they were Gods gift to mankind, but here they kept that attitude firmly in check and ‘offstage’. When on duty there was a real teamwork attitude … and the NCOs were undoubtedly the coaches of these athletes.
I watched, amused, as a Sergeant waved one arm to direct an Archer while screaming invective to the infantry running around. The sum total of all these efforts being that the Battlemech carefully lowered the cargo container exactly as directed onto the back of a flatbed truck, before backing away as Infantry jumped up and lashed it into place with the others already there. Eventually satisfied, the Sergeant gave a gesture to the driver and the flatbed jolted into motion, making its way to join the never ending convoy of flatbeds, recovery vehicles and APCs making the trip to the local exit doors as a new empty flatbed moved up and the Archer walked over to pick up the next container - this one filled with spare Streak SRM-2 missile launchers.
It was slightly surprising to me that the RCT could turn into such an efficient transport machine at the drop of a hat, with frontline soldiers turning into expert logistics personnel and tank drivers hauling around cargo on trucks like they did it for a living. Ardan Sortek had put things into perspective for me though, reminding me that salvage operations were a critical thing in the 31st century. Battlefield salvage was often the only thing keeping a military unit running really. And accordingly, the better units had become very good at jumping the battlefield -often while the guns were still firing! - to drag ‘shinies’ off with a determination the Blood Ravens would have applauded.
And when people were not shooting at you and the ‘salvage’ was mostly loaded up in standard shipping containers … well, that was just gravy then, wasn’t it?
The progress was slower than I would have liked, with the current ETA for finishing looting the cache of everything even remotely valuable another seven hours, but inside of two hours everything on the ‘alpha’ high priority list would have been stowed. For my part, the six copies of the core were all locked away - even better ‘my’ team had found both the software to read the first two cores we had copied and in turn made a copy of that, as well as the spare memory cores stashed in the cache late last night. Accordingly I had simply given orders to keep copying right up until the last minute and Arden had backed me to the hilt. Call me paranoid, but if every military Dropship didn’t have a core under lock and key by the time we dusted off, I didn’t think enough redundancy was in place yet.
I made my way back to the command centre just outside these doors - enjoying the salt air from the sea only a half dozen klicks away beyond a distant line of grassy sand dunes. The Iron Fox had landed closest to the doors with its command centre serving as a traffic control point for the vehicles driving all over the place and there I stopped to report in on the status of ‘my’ team, having just come from the library down one of the incredible Mech sized rail-transports that ran through the mountain. Said report amounting to ‘They’re getting some sleep not quite at gunpoint, having stayed up all night browsing through the masses of data the core contained and would continue copying more cores later’.
No I was NOT taking any chances.
The Helm Core was the key to the technical renaissance of the Inner Sphere. As far as I recalled, the New Dallas Core, while incredibly useful in military matters, didn’t have anything like the fundamental science and engineering data critical to rebuilding the Inner Spheres infrastructure. If I ****** this up, the consequences …
Huh. Consequences. I wonder what he would have made of all this back on EssBe?
Snorting after a moment, I couldn’t help but imagine him popping up as a ‘shoulder devil’ cackling, telling me I had done well and to move onto phase two; framing Myndo Waterly for abducting and killing Romano Liaos favorite pet turtle. THEN, encouraging me to have Jamie Wolf kidnapped, tied to a chair and slapped with a hardcopy of his Khans final orders, repeatedly, until he absorbed them through some kind of osmosis process.
The ‘shoulder angel’ version of him that popped up then of course proceeded to say the exact same thing … but at insisted on at least using an ergonomic chair.
Shaking that thought off and with nothing better to do, I wandered to the nearest logistics controller and offered myself as a pair of hands, correctly anticipating that they could find a use for me. And so I found myself attached to a scratch platoon of infantry and dismounted tankers who were busy unloading cases of infantry gear from the back of the flatbeds into Star Barge IX - a Mule class dropship - for the rest of the day...
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Sortek was present in the command centre when I squeezed through the bulkhead hatch that evening. I felt exhausted - but in a productive sort of way having spent the day lugging stuff into dropship cargo holds (note; Mauser-960 rifles were too ****** heavy for a standard issue rifle!). Sortek also looked exhausted; he had been up all night and most of the day first working out the plan and then helping to run it on coffee and stim-pills. Full credit to the staff officers of the Heavy Guards, the operation had gone incredibly smoothly and I told him as such, earning a tired smile in exchange but otherwise I just kept out of his way as he directed me to sit at a tiny mission specialist seat, taking the opportunity to log in and start to read over the status reports directed to the HQ while we waited for the final Mechs of the LZ guard to trudge into the Mech bays and headcounts to be confirmed that no-one had been left behind.
It seemed that the loadmasters had lived up to their projections, managing to squeeze just about everything of any value on board the fleet. Even the mobile gantries the Star League Mechs had been standing in had been collapsed and shoved onto the dropships; apparently the computer controlled diagnostic and repair systems built into them could be adapted to drive parts of Star League era factories long mothballed and replaced by 31st century kludges - and were thus possibly again worth more than the Battlemechs they had enclosed.
Defiance would probably pay a pretty penny for them, although Katrina would be more likely as not to just give her share of them away to boost production on Hesperus II I guessed.
Also as anticipated, with so much loot the cargo dropships had proven to not quite have enough storage - a question more of volume than mass it seemed. So the Heavy Guards had been forced to dump more than a bit of gear that could be replaced for Lostech that couldn’t. Starting with almost all their auto-cannon and missile ammo … which had been shoved inside two Regiments of APCs the RCT had also abandoned to make room for vehicles from the cache. With demolition charges rigged to blow them all sky high once they were clear.
The Infantry were agreeably indifferent to blowing up their rides. If anything, the Combat engineers seemed to be gleefully looking forward the explosion they were going to make when they pressed the button.
And I mean disturbingly gleeful. Bunch of bloody pyromaniacs.
I somehow doubted Mechwarriors would have been so casually happy with blowing up their rides…****** silly Cult of the Mechwarrior. Not that I dared say that out loud of course!
So, at exactly 22:33 local, the Iron Fox rose from the ground along with the two dozen and change other dropships that made up the RCT. The Mammoths and Mules of the cargo force were already underway for the jump point, having lifted an hour ago and soon enough we would burn hard after them to overtake … but not quite yet.
There was one final act to the Helm story yet to play out.
And it wasn’t the APCs blowing up - which I have to admit from 30,000 feet at night was pretty bloody spectacular.
“We’re in a stable geosynchronous position over the cache” one of the officers on the very cramped command deck called out half an hour later, relaying data from the ships bridge. “All ships are in formation”.
“Kell Hounds report a successful launch” another officer called from off to the right. “Twenty minutes behind schedule - apparently the Castelan wanted to make a farewell speech” the officer added, generating a snicker from the crew and at that, I flipped over to the Kell Hounds reports...huh.
Well now. It seems that the Kell Hounds had ‘stumbled onto’ the MI5/MI6 team that had been ‘hiding out’ in Helmsdown (in a dive of a bar of course where they had been busy racking up a ‘mission expenses’ bill) after finding their dropship sitting empty at the spaceport. At that point they had arrested them for theft of several hundred million kroners worth of medical equipment and seized their dropship, all simply to confuse the FWL just that much more and provide a seemingly valid reason for this whole raid - Mercs often were hired for ‘repossession’ missions and to recover stolen property. That in turn had caused the locals to freak out, concerned that all the shiny new medical equipment they desperately needed was about to be taken away. With appropriate showings of concern for the locals after touring the hospital, Major Ward had formally waived the claims of the Commonwealth on the medical equipment, stunning the local officials before sending them into celebration. With her even sending a HPG message to Tharkad saying as much on her authority. And plenty of posturing that the Lyran Commonwealth is not the Draconis Combine and is not going to loot medical gear that is clearly desperately needed.
Good propaganda, even if probably blatantly untrue. On the other hand, it did let Ward send a message to Tharkad which, contained in the specific phrasing entirely innocuously, a report that we were withdrawing from Helm with our Primary and Secondary objectives accomplished and no enemy contact. Gave me a warm feeling to have ComStar unknowingly pronounce the beginning of its doom to the Inner Sphere...
“Very well” Felsner acknowledged the update about the Kell Hounds from his station, turning to glance at Ardan and nodding.
The Colonel then turned to me.
“John, we good to go?” he asked directly and I final check of my board. The reports from the tech team seemed to be indicating they were ready … and there was nothing else I could think of.
“Good to go” I agreed.
And with that Ardan made a brief transmission to the surface. There was a static filled but intelligible military acknowledgement and with that all we could do was wait, everyone staring at the long range camera which was currently showing an IR picture of a lone dropship sitting on the ground just outside the doors we had only opened up yesterday.
Man was it only yesterday? It felt like it had been a week since we touched down … although that might be my muscles protesting from the strain I had put them under today. Mental note; never try to match the pace with the 31st century equivalent of paratroopers. Although I'd like to think I had earned enough respect from them to graduate from ‘REMF weiny’ to REMF weiny at least willing to get his hands dirty’.
Still I had no idea how long this would take, so I keyed up the loadmasters reports that had been compiled for each dropship, entertaining myself by reading through the haul we were taking away. Some interesting things in there. Example; there was a bloody Devastator in the cache - apparently one of the only six built, some Gunslingers ride they were forced to leave behind for more colony supplies I’d guess.
Too bad I wasn't a Mechwarrior or I would have been all over that. I allowed myself a few moments thinking of it painted bright green with purple highlights, a Decepticon logo on its chest as I kicked in the front door of Hilton Head shouting ‘PREPARE FOR EXTERMINATION!’ before I turned my attention back to the list. There were some other impressive finds. No mobile HPG unfortunately or Exterminaitors with Null-Sig technology or Nighthawks or anything like that. Nothing bleeding edge or super classified … but we did find half a dozen SLDF mobile command vehicles that made the one the Guards used look like a kids toy. With holotanks and augmented reality command systems I recognized as the same tech Focht had used (would use? might use?) on Tukayyid.
Anyway, I was just looking over the listings -ohh, four Kanga tanks, nice!- when a sudden crackle of transmissions came over the repeater speakers and my gaze quickly shifted to the large flatscreens on the bulkhead. Down below a tiny little hovertruck was skidding out of the cave entrance and I watched fascinated as it bounced along leaving a cloud of dust. The picture zoomed in and refocused on it, the IR resolution poor but good enough to see that in the back of the open truck were a couple of industrial exoskeletons, with a large refrigerator sized box between them still glowing with residual heat. Said truck skidded up the ramp of the waiting dropship and barely a second after the ramp closed behind it the Dropships thrusters ignited, almost flushing the picture with light before the computers compensated, zooming back out to show the ship slowly clawing its way into the sky.
“Sirs” a Com-tech put in, turning from her console to catch the Marshals eye. “Transmission from Wolli Pride; Code Firefly”.
A relieved and happy sort of sigh passed through the command centre at that news and I personally had to squish the urge to raise a fist in triumph. Firefly meant that the original core had been extracted, as far as the ground team knew, safely and intact. Combined with the half dozen copies onto the cores we brought with us, the extra dozen copies that had been made using the spare cores we had found in the cache … well that might be just about enough redundancy.
Not a bad days work I reckon-
“Sirs” the man said in a sharp tone that got attention at once. “Stay behind sensors are reading a seismic disturbance building across the region. Scale four and rising”.
“Give me a close up of the door” Ardan ordered … then I spoke up without thinking if protocol even let me speak up.
“Can we also get a shot of Freeport and the area around it?”
The tech hesitated and turned to look at the Colonel and I felt a twinge of sudden unease as I remembered, belatedly, that I was not part of the command staff-
“Why exactly are you looking at me instead of putting it up, Sergeant?” Ardan gave the junior NCO a look that had the other instantly hammering his keyboard and seemingly firming my rather nebulous place in the chain of command rather substantially.
Awwww. That was sweet of the guy.
The main screen split now, with one shot on the cache door and one on the ruined city, both in the green of faint green of night vision. The picture quality was poor; this was not FLIR let alone synthetic aperture radar technology -bloody future of the 80s - but it was still detailed enough blended into a visual light picture that you could make out features of a ruined city easily.
“Center it on that dam on where the sea becomes the Vermillion River” I clarified and the picture shifted to do so, focusing and zooming in… and I couldn’t have timed it better if I had tried. The dam wasn’t small, it stretched for at least a couple of kilometers and was a solidly built structure, to put it mildly. Which made the fact that even from hundreds of kilometers in the air, it was clearly rocking and moving rather odd.
Then things escalated to Michael Bay Grade.
The ground opened under the dam, causing it to buckle and start to collapse into a great rift, of which little could be seen in the IR picture. Moments later the dam was airborne, hundreds of fragments the size of office blocks exploding back into the air. A wall of water was rising -literally rising vertically into the sky- and despite having a rough idea of what was coming, I felt my jaw drop at the sight before I gained control. The picture zoomed back out hastily and stabilized to show that explosion of water slow and finally fell apart tens of thousands of feet in the air, spraying out in all directions to rain back down over the entire region as an opaque fog started to form.
“Mother of God” one of the officers said for the room. Yup, that about summed it up.
“What in the hell is that Smith?” Felsner asked in shock, turning to look at me followed by most of the rest of the officers.
I tried to be as nonchalant as possible under their gaze, most of my attention remaining focused on the force that was turning much of what was left of Freeport into … well, not rubble as it was already trashed to all hell, but it was doing a fine job of spreading the rubble out over a much wider area.
“I believe that’s the Yehudan Sea” I noted after a pause. “You know, I have to admit I was wondering where the SLDF put that thing. Always the last place you look…”
Marshal Felsner stared at me for a long, long moment before turning his gaze upon Ardan. A gaze that said without saying ‘Who the hell is this guy?’ and Ardan just shook his head with a smile, having grown more used to my eccentricities.
Or perhaps just giving me a lot of slack given that he knew I was not military or even intelligence, despite this costume I was wearing. Or perhaps I had just broken him with how everything I had said about Helm had come to pass.
“Sirs - at the cache” the tech called and switched the feed back to show a massive cloud of steadily thickening dust pouring out of the ‘front door’ followed by the entire cliff above it seeming to crack and implode, collapsing the entrance and burying half of that canyon around the gatehouse in shale and rubble. Zooming out we could ridgelines and peaks of the hidden complex seemingly shudder, some of the mighty mountains sagging and even sliding in slow motion as the massive network of caves under the region collapsed.
Well, scratch one Star League cache.
In theory, we could have disabled the self destruct sequence that had started as soon as the techs yanked the core from its mount - the techs had in fact isolated that code mid-morning after cracking the system to take complete control (with the admin stick of doom, it wasn’t exactly hard). However doing so would have left the FWLM a perfectly intact psudo Castle Brian that they could slap guns all over and suddenly find themselves with an ideal forward theater logistics base. One that a single garrison regiment could hold against probably a dozen if the FWLM engineers did their job correctly, which would be ideally placed to support massive attacks against the Steiner border.
Patrick Kell had been given the job of making the call, given that he was representing Katrinas interests. He had decided in the end that while it was a true shame and sad loss, the strategic threat of such a complex was just too great to leave intact.
Ergo, boom.
Even so despite the impeccable logic, I couldn’t help but feel that something ancient and incredible had just died as I watched the complex slowly collapse on itself. I made a mental note to get Hanse to at least put a statue of Edwin Keeler up in NAIS somewhere -his service jacket including a holographic representation had been in the computer core. A monument so the Federated Commonwealth would always remember who they owed this priceless second chance to.
The return of the Yehudan Sea was the final act in this chapter of the story. Shortly after that, our ships ignited their drives as the Woli Pride slotted into formation, breaking orbit. The Kell Hounds squadron merged before we were even a light second out, the combined fleet now burning hard as we accelerated away from the planet. No need for stealth now, just speed. Our fleet expanded once again as we caught up to the Mammoths and Mules by the end of the day and folded into their formation, reducing our acceleration somewhat. Then came the waiting game as we slowly but steadily chewed up the distance to our Jumpships.
This part of Battletech that was so much easier to read about than live.
Travel in Dropships and Jumpships sucked, no question as far as I was concerned. All I could do was sit in my tiny rack (and keep firmly in mind that it was tiny in comparison to my bed back on New Avalon; it was positively palatial compared to the troops living arrangements) and watch various vid shows and movies - the dropships memory core at least contained a pretty huge library of media - even if in the common areas only Solaris ever seemed to be shown. Possibly because current popular entertainment was pretty damn horrible, making me wonder if I could make some cash selling some of the content on my devices as ‘lostech’ movies from the 21st century or something. I had a feeling the AFFS would be able to relate to Generation Kill...
The troops at least were kept busy cleaning their field gear that had gotten little use - and poking at a handful of examples of the Star League technology they had salvaged and been allowed to play with, like children on Christmas day. The officers started to catch up with paperwork, reports and what not. Ardan - the bastard - even asked me to write a report, blithely ignoring my protests that A) I was not in the AFFS B) I didn’t have the first clue how to and C) It would be classified so high that no-one bar he, Quintus and Hanse would be able to read it anyway...
Nonetheless he insisted and so I humored him, working out three pages that described the actions of ‘my’ team and noting they had all performed well under quite high pressure. I added in a couple of pages of suggestions for the use of the materials we had looted based off future and past knowledge, but otherwise left it there. I’m sure Hanse had entire buildings full of people to work these things out after all.
Still it starved off cabin fever and helped the days pass.
All ships went to Battle stations as we closed in on two hours to the jump point, the fleet decelerating hard at 1.5Gs, the maximum the massive Mammoths could safely take. My mind was working overdrive now about worst case scenarios, starting with Yorinaga Kurita applying Phantom Mech to an Achilles class ship. Then came ComStar giving one of their Warships a test drive after someone panicked and ending with the Perigard Zalman being ripped through time and space thanks to a K/F butterfly ****** I had somehow induced. Culminating in its Star Admiral deciding to shoot up as many Freebirth Jumpships as they could see because, you know, why the hell not…
It was thus a very welcome anticlimactic outcome when … nothing happened. No incoming, no surprises, no malfunctions. Our dropships simply decelerated hard into the jump point and in a chaotic yet well-coordinated ballet, linked up with their jumpships who had long furled their sails with fully charged drives.
Then bare seconds after the final CAP birds had landed, there was an explosion of exotic particles and in a blinding flash of light, the fleet gave the middle finger to causality, the concept of Lostech, Jerome Blake and the Concord of Kapteyn and flung itself out of the system. Leaving behind a bunch of highly confused locals wondering exactly when the Yehudan Sea had come back...
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Thats one hell of a successful salvage op, and there's no way the Robes can get their hands on all the Cores, and as you said 'so many shinies!' and I chuckled at the 'dibs rule' idea :p Superbly written and very very very good!
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the only thing that would be better, is to have that comstar jackass who was to implicate the grey death, read a dispatch about this,
all my plans, all that tech, in the hands of Davion???
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Might I suggest adding kidnapping Teddy K and his family to your list of things to get done.
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Might I suggest adding kidnapping Teddy K and his family to your list of things to get done.
Teddy K is one of the smarter and saner leaders of the Draconis Combine. You wouldn´t want to do anything that might possibly discredit him as future Coordinator.
If anything, the protagonist (and Hanse Davion) should consider bringing Teddy in on at least part of the conspiracy, because having the DC on their side when the Clans strike or ComStar realizes that Hanse is onto them would be a great advantage - and Teddy would be honorable enough not to exploit the situation to Hanse´s detriment.
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This is both hilarious and fantastically written. When I read the intro I started thinking my way through what I'd do... Helm, New Dallas, Comstar and the Dragoons were the first things I thought of. I'm looking forward to learning what I didn't think of. Keep it going and we'll all keep reading.
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questions... now this takes place in 3026 or 3027. Was Helm owned by the GDL at this time or not until 3028? Were their dependents on planet at this time? Clearly the ripples of AU are expanding here as the GDL will NOT become famous for the Helm Memory Core but will this occurrence cause them to RTB back to Helm to at least investigate?
and Precentor Emilio Rachan… where is he when this capper raid goes down?
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Teddy K is one of the smarter and saner leaders of the Draconis Combine. You wouldn´t want to do anything that might possibly discredit him as future Coordinator.
If anything, the protagonist (and Hanse Davion) should consider bringing Teddy in on at least part of the conspiracy, because having the DC on their side when the Clans strike or ComStar realizes that Hanse is onto them would be a great advantage - and Teddy would be honorable enough not to exploit the situation to Hanse´s detriment.
At minimum he needs removed from the equation. At best he could be made a powerful ally but I doubt it.
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OI? Send Teddy K a telegram outing ALL the known gems would make him greatly indebted to the FEDCOM (as well as ELIMINATING a major danger to the Draconis Combine)
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The problem isn't Teddy K, its everybody else in the Combine. The only way he's going to change that House is if the Combine suffers through its version of Japan's WW2. The Combine needs to lose so badly that it renounces foreign adventurism & turn mercantile. Helping Teddy K simply isn't worth the headache.
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And so we come to the end of Book 1 .
I hope to have more written soon given the very positive responses I've gotten to this, but this is a natural stopping pointing for the first part of this story me thinks :)
Enjoy!
Chapter 8: Jump! Go ahead and Jump! Might as well Jump! Go ahead and Jump! Jump!
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After that came a week of recharging boredom in a relatively safe uninhabited system, followed by another jump that had us appearing in the Launam system, the Lyran Commonwealth proper where Snords Irregulars of all groups were waiting for us. The Mercs had withdrawn from their own raids on the FWL to here and we swiftly received verified orders that Katrina had ordered them to move with us at least as far as Clinton, for just a bit of extra security.
Cranston Snord was eccentric, not idiotic. One look at the Monoliths, their cargo Dropship parasites and the Davion Heavy Guards heading to Tharkad with the Kell Hounds would surely led him to the natural conclusion that we were what this whole crazy campaign had been about - he was smart enough to know when he was being used as a diversion. He was also smart enough not to make a fuss of it, simply welcoming the Heavy Guards and Kell Hounds back and inviting the senior officers over to his dropship for a private dinner with his command staff - having picked up a load of fresh food from the recharge station only yesterday.
I would have liked to go. Snord and his people were genuinely people I’d be fascinated to meet -and FRESH FOOD!- but I didn't ask and Ardan didn't offer. There was no reason to have Wolfnet open a file on me just yet and if any alcohol was involved, well, there was a better than even chance I'd probably find it too damn hard to avoid snarking about weather on the Clan Homeworld after I got drunk.
Thank you EdBecerra.
So I sat in my quarters that night chewing on the military rations we still had in plentiful stock. I was brought up to speed the next day at breakfast - Ardan (who aside from me was the only one on the ships who knew of the Clans and Cranston’s full story) noted that Cranston hadn’t pressed anyone on the question of what they had been doing when it was made it clear we couldn’t talk about it. Instead he had regaled them with tales of his little raid on behalf of Katrina.
It was at least possible the Merc had just wanted to brag. And kudos to him; he had more than earned both the right and his pay from what I heard later.
Snords little war with the FWL (seriously what was it with the original Dragoons starting private wars with Successor States?) had always been I think more about trolling and embarrassing the hell out of Janos and the FWL than trying to kill people or destroy things like Jamies future feud with Takashi. Accordingly, when offered the chance to launch a raid and be paid to troll his nemesis by Davion on top of his Steiner retainer, the predictably cash poor Cranston had leapt at the offer with both hands. His assigned target had been Nestor - a planet they had infamously hit before and one guarded with no less than two Regimental sized units that should have dissuaded any raid.
But while his daughter Rhonda had led the 21st Centauri Lancers and 5th Defenders of Andurien on a wild goose chase with COMINT hints they were after some old Star League cache (talk about irony) in the boonies, her father's command company had moved undetected to emerge above the undefeated capital on the massive rock cliffs that dominated the skyline … and start an art class.
Efficiently, the Mechs had unfolded giant Mech sized stencils before using a fluid gun one of his techs had somehow crammed into an Enforcer, spraying the stencils with a special neon green paint normally used on the exterior of Zero-G installations that was apparently all but impossible to remove short of ripping the rockface out.
Said stencil had then been removed half an hour later, leaving a work of art that would surely go down in history. A giant 30 meter tall figure easily recognizable as Janos Marik. It would no doubt would have been a rather stirring sight … if not for the fact that he was on a knee bowing to a grinning Maximilian Liao, with a smirking ghostly Anton Marik hovering behind the Capellan Leader. With text simply saying ‘The Concord of Kapteyn’
Well, that was about as subtle as an Atlas.
The Irregulars had then packed up and hastily beat a retreat as the chagrined and bewildered Defenders had hurried back to the capital, allowing Rhonda to give the Lancers the slip and for the Mercs to run to their Jumpships, chased by two lances of Aerospace fighters who seemed disinclined to press any attack, probably out of confusion over what the hell was going on.
Then as night had fallen the hilarity had increased by a factor of ten as the paint started to glow rather brightly in the dark, local authorities trying to find some way to cover it up even as hoards of news VTOLs circled overhead and beamed the news out into the wider FWL and tourists showed up snapping pictures.
It probably didn’t help that the CO of the Defenders Regiment was clearly trying not to laugh his ass off in a TV interview about the little raid and the message it pushed that he probably completely agreed with.
Gotta love Free World League politics...
Anyway, our yet again expanded fleet jumped again, slowly moving deeper into the Commonwealth and further away from any realistic pursuit. Jump drives might be slow, but once you were a couple of jumps ahead and committed to keep moving, it was damn near impossible to be caught so I started to feel increasingly secure. Snord tried several more times to get casual conversation going about the raid as the weeks passed - and his questions seemed to cannily zero in on Helm and the legendary cache without explicitly asking. I mean if anyone was likely to have a hint about the cache it would be Snord, but discipline held and no one said anything.
I frankly doubted he knew about the memory core itself, although he probably knew about the Fleet Base and possibly even what was left behind. The memory core however I was pretty sure had only been put in place after the Exodus fleet left...but why take chances?
At any rate, his ships broke off at Clinton with many promises made to visit his famous museum that was totally not on a Castle Brian turned Brian Cache he had ‘neglected’ to tell Katrina about (it was a really good thing I had been kept away I think) and we carried onwards on the final leg of our journey.
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One didn’t, couldn't, have a real appreciation for how horrible space travel was in Battletech until you were stuck in a tin can for two months. Floating around as the ship recharges, jumps, then recharges again over and over. I had never suffered from claustrophobia, but damn if I didn’t come closer than I wanted to admit a couple of times on that ship.
I had to admit some grudging respect for Clanners at that point in time, their trips down the Exodus Road would have been Gods damned nightmares for me.
Maybe because they were born in cans they had no problem with living in them?
Anyway, Katrina managed to set up a command circuit from Clinton to cover the rest of our trip. No small order given the number of dropships we were carrying, but then again what we were carrying pretty much entirely justified getting us to ground sooner rather than later and I wasn’t going to complain about cutting three or four weeks from the trip!
We materialized at the Zenith point at Tharkad to find an Achilles class dropship from the 2nd Royal Guard waiting for us. Greetings were exchanged (along with current AFFS recognition codes) and the usual ballet of ships undocking and forming up into a convoy took place. It did take some time to crawl out of the zenith point however, perhaps unsurprisingly. This was the economic center of gravity of the Lyran Commonwealth and priority clearance or not, it was a seriously busy place with space stations and Jumpships and dropships in every direction and no-one wanted to send a spray of debris through hundreds of billions of kronor worth of Jumpships.
Still, it only took a few hours before we cleared the Zenith perimeter and throttled up for our burn in system, bringing the glorious return of simulated gravity.
Morale was already rather high given what we had accomplished, but it only perked up as we headed for some well-deserved R&R and solid ground. Locally, the arrival of the pride of the Federated Suns alongside the famous Kell Hounds had clearly created a great deal of excitement in-system on the local media. Our unannounced yet officially expected presence was causing no end of excitement. Smarter talking heads seemed to be starting to connect the dots with the confused and bizarre ‘raiding’ on the FWL border, although they only got the same disinterested ‘We neither confirm nor deny these reports’ responses from LCAF press officers when they asked, with the only real statements from the Triad being that the Archon had invited the Davion Heavy Guards who were ‘in the area on joint operations’ to spend Christmas on Tharkad as a gesture of friendship and gratitude to their gallant FedSuns allies bla bla bla.
Still it didn’t take a genius to realize something had happened. The media were quick to point out that one of the finest units in the AFFS and Katrina Steiners personal ‘fix-it guys’ escorting a massive cargo convoy suggested someone was getting a Christmas present this year – which was true enough I supposed. That every other major power would know where the Helm cache had ended up was also inevitable … but I have to admit I took a sadistic pleasure in the fact that a great many Christmas dinners for people in ROM, the ISF and Maskirovka were sure to be completely ruined as they were called into all night crisis meetings...
We reached Tharkad as dawn was breaking over the capital and while the Kell Hounds had gone right in with barely a pause, the Heavy Guards had been held in orbit with the loot for a few hours while final preparations were made and paperwork signed by various players. I mean we were bringing a fully armed RCT of a foreign power down onto the soil of the capital world of the Lyran Commonwealth after all so it wasn’t really surprising … but I suspected that the given reason was mostly an engineered one, to give Katrina politically acceptable cover to get a report from Patrick Kell in person on what had gone down on Helm, given that we had been ‘black’ all the way here. It was really too bad I wouldn’t be able to see the look on her face when Patrick revealed what we had brought her for Christmas this year.
On the plus side, it also let me finally just sit and watch a planet from space in all its glory – with a sunrise over the horizen no less! And it was really something special.
From my recollections, I had half expected Tharkad to look like Hoth. I shouldn't have of course; such a biosphere wouldn't exactly be viable for billions of people to make it their home - it’s kinda hard to photosynthesize when you have no plants after all. So while the planet's polar caps and arctic regions certainly looked quite a bit bigger from orbit than Earth's, most of the planet was actually shades of green and brown with the dark blue of oceans mixed in. Apparently the equatorial regions - mostly reserved for food production on factory farms owned by Megacorps - were quite pleasant all year round thanks to the planets minimal axial tilt, but the capital and most of the population heavy cities were in the ‘snow zones’.
It wasn't exactly the Lands Of Always Winter with White Walkers sulking in the arctic regions dodging patrols of Firestarters or anything, but it was chilly all year round, with only three or so months a year in the capital where there temperatures could be considered even remotely non-freezing. Come to think about it, the location of Tharkad City said a lot about the Lyran mindset in its own way. That there was no such thing as ‘cannot be done’ - just ‘throw resources at it and then throw some more until it works!’
Screw the cost, we would put nature in its place!
Our fleet of dropships when finally cleared didn’t however follow the Kell Hounds in or land at any of the civilian or military spaceports in the capital proper. Instead we were directed by flight control to land a few hundred klicks to the North on the far side of Mount Wotan. This was the ‘Victoria Steiner Military Reserve’; a military staging ground used by the LCAF for both major exercises and to house visiting units swinging through the capital for this or that reason. The entire region was under a no-fly zone from ground to orbit and totally secure on the ground, with underground warehouses on a Star League Lyran scale more than sufficient to hold our loot and house the troops, making it both protected from observation and somewhat more discreet than plonking down in Tharkad City.
I for one was looking forward to the whispered stories of real beds and real food and real showers that awaited us in the Promised Land … when Ardan took me aside and told me to get dressed formally, the shore party to go and meet the brass had just been announced.
And it was minimal. Very minimal. As in just Ardan Sortek, Ran Felnser … and me.
I had protested initially at my inclusion - until I was told that the request had come from the highest authority. Ergo, it really wasn't a request.
Not good.
The only reason Katrina Steiner would ask me to tag along would be because Hanse had sent her secure messages about me – probably even hand delivered. So I really hoped he hadn’t forwarded everything to her. My less than flattering comments about her sister's future loyalty might make things a tad awkward…oh God, what if Nondi Steiner herself was present?
I tried not to think about it as I waited in the airlock, fiddling with my cufflinks. The new suit I was wearing was, I felt, a very nice piece of work. It was the work of the Davion Palace tailors (yes they had a permanent tailor team on staff) who had taken my 21st century business suit and closely copied it with just a few 31st century flourishes -and far superior luxury fabrics. It fit like a glove and I thought looked rather slick … but it also ensured I stuck out like a sore thumb next to the two AFFS officers in their dashing dress uniforms, medals and spurs.
Oh well, nothing to be done for that now. There was a clunk and a hiss from the other side of the airlock we were standing in and a status board went from yellow to green as a gantry in the docking ring wall locked onto the ship's hatch - a feature I was rather grateful for given the snow I had seen outside on the ships monitors. The hatch now opened and agreeably warm air mixed with ours as we stepped out and I could just make out a single figure waiting for us-
“Roman!” Felnser greeted the figure in surprise and pleasure, stepping forward and extending a hand with a broad smile. “Didn’t think you’d be here to greet us! I thought Katrina had sent you back to the border with the Third Guards?”
“That was the original plan, yes” the man said in perfect if mildly accented English, taking the hand and shaking it firmly. “But the Archon seems to have other ideas for me” he noted turning to smile at Ardan and offer him his hand - although it was hard to see through the two towering Mechwarriors. “Colonel Sortek, a genuine pleasure to meet you at last”.
“Likewise General” Ardan agreed, stepping forward to take the hand and shake it firmly. “Ran speaks very highly of you and your men. That flanking attack down the Whitecap River you pulled off was put into the textbooks at NAMA and Albion almost as soon as we heard of it”.
“The Marshal is perhaps too modest of his own performance in that battle” the General downplayed his own actions with a tolerant smile. “But that was quite the engagement I must say”.
“Indeed” Ardan agreed before stepping forward into the docking arm to the dropship to make room for me as I stepped forward, Ardan gesturing at me. “And this is-”
“Herr Smith, I presume” the LCAF General smoothly broke in as he turned to appraise me, smoothly clicking his heels and offering me a bow before offering his hand. “It is a true pleasure - there has been a great deal of talk about you in the Archons inner circle over the last week”.
Well that was a warning if I had ever heard one.
I wasn’t taken aback by his reaction and recognition, after all Katrina Steiner had insisted I come along. But it sounded like a great deal of information about me had made its way to Katrina Steiner-
Wait.
Hang on.
Roman? That had to make this-
“The pleasure is mine General Steiner” I responded smoothly as I wracked my brains for what I could remember of Roman Steiner, which wasn’t much. Except that he had been a very competent officer in the LCAF and then AFFC. Always nice to see someone from the LCAF side of the fence kicking ass and all that.
“Welcome to Tharkad, all of you. If you’ll follow me” Roman continued after releasing my hand, clearly unphased by my revelation of his identity (or perhaps thinking I had simply read the silver and gold name plate on his chest I belatedly noticed) as he gestured down to the docking bag proper.
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-CONT-
We followed the General from the ramp to a lift that dropped us to below the tarmac level and from there we hopped onto an internal tramline of sorts along which we rolled to the main HQ building. The three officers made small talk as they went, with Roman confirming a grand ballroom at this base sufficient to fit the entire RCT was ready and waiting to give all RCTs troops a five course meal, in about three hours. And that a luxury barracks had been prepared to ensure every man and woman would have a real bed to sleep in with unlimited hot water showers and so on because the LCAF did like their comforts at home.
God I would kill for one of those beds right now…
Felnser thanked Roman on behalf of his RCT, with Ardan noting dryly that after months of dropship rations, he suspected the troops would have gladly charged the 2nd Sword of Light armed with sticks and rocks to get their hands on a decent meal and good bed.
Soon enough small talk shifted to more strategic matters. No questions came about our mission, but again, Patrick Kell surely briefed Katrina and her staff on everything already. Instead Roman kindly spent the time filling them in on what they had missed while out on the raid. It seemed that the diversionary attacks had gone off even better than I could had hoped; civilian damage and combat losses both negligible, with the FWLM caught flat footed by the attacks that had been carefully aimed away from critical strategic targets and wildly uninterested in really shooting much up at all. Our little raid had thus been counted as just one more until reports of a missing sea reappearing on Helm had started to appear on Atraus and Stewart. First earning flat ‘WTF’ responses and then a slowly growing investigation eventually stumbling onto the landing zones of our dropships and multiple regiments of burned out APCs in neat little clusters and SAFE coming in to investigate. By which point our units were already two jumps into Lyran space and moving deeper.
When it worked in your favour, 3025 Battletechs OODA sloth on the strategic scale was a glorious thing.
Roman had also brought news from the Federated Suns. The Wolf Dragoons Alpha Regiment had attempted a raid on Barlow's End, alongside elements of a new DCMS unit known as the Ryuken. They had skirmished for a time with the elite Eridani Light Horse and white Witches along with a couple of other small detachments such as the Fox’s Teeth before pulling out. Word from DMI passed to LIC was that the Mercs and DCMS units had been surprisingly sloppy, uncoordinated in a way that suggested friction between command elements.
That sounded about on the money for the events as described in Wolves on the Border … except that I did not remember anything about the Fox’s Teeth being involved. Or any other units for that matter other than the two Merc commands.
Conclusion; Hanse Davion was plotting something. Shocking, truly.
I was broken out of my musing when the tram came to a halt and we double timed it up some stairs into a large atrium. Here the base bustled with activity but Roman led us through the crowds smoothly, nodding at the flurry of salutes he generated in passing as we headed for the skyscraper at the core of the base. We passed through a security checkpoint in front of a bank of lifts, but the guards just waved us through, clearly expecting us. A quick elevator trip up thirty floors to one clearly labeled ‘VIP receiving lounge’ and we stepped out into a richly decorated anteroom filled with officers … including one in the olive-green uniform of an AFFS Field Marshal who stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of Steiner blue.
Salutes flew everywhere and I belatedly recognized the man across from me as Stephen Davion, the acting commander of the Davion Guards Brigade.
Was he was the man Hanse had sent out to brief Katrina?
In a whirlwind of orders, Ran and Roman split off to join Stephen and a gaggle of other flag officers, leaving Ardan and I behind as they moved to a door at one end of this little antechamber which slid open at their approach. A roar of conversation flooded out (along with the distinct smell of cigars) and I spied what seemed to be a large officer's filled to capacity inside. Moments later, a thundering round of applause started - cutting off a second later as the doors shut.
But before I could ask what was going on, I found myself ushered forward with Ardan through the heavily guarded doors directly in front of me guarded oddly by-
Ah. That was why 1st Davion and 1st Royal soldiers were standing around outside this door.
Hanse Davion was casually lounging in a not-quite-throne chair chatting animatedly with a very striking woman, who was also at ease in a not-quite-throne chair next to him. A quartet of other people in a mixture of uniforms and civilian clothes were sitting around the table in polite silence - but otherwise the room was empty of people despite the table being big enough to easily fit a dozen. Flawless floor to ceiling glass walls to the left and right offered a spectacular view of the military spaceport and hoard of dropships dotting the place … and that was about all the time I had to take in the situation as I braced myself.
Well, here we go again...
“Ah, Colonel Sortek, welcome back to Tharkad” Katrina Steiner greeted Ardan with a warm smile at the AFFS officer who stepped forward to offer her a bow and state how happy he was to be back. Sounding entirely genuine about it too.
Okay, I couldn’t help it as I stood there watching the two exchange greetings. My entirely inappropriate first thought upon seeing the ruler of the Lyran Commonwealth as she and Ardan renewed their acquaintance … was that she really was a Mega-MILF.
I immediately gave myself a mental Gibs Slap.
While Ardan was talking, I took a second to note the presence of the various people present on the other two sides of the table. Patrick Kell was sitting two seats down on ‘Katrinas’ side of the table and he was studying me a lot more closely than before - I suspect if he was in here with this group he had been led in on ‘the secret’. Nonetheless he offered me a reassuring smile. Next to him was a woman wearing an LCAF duty uniform, whose glitzy Steiner Cross and clear resemblance to Katrina -to say nothing of the way her eyes narrowed in not quite hostility at me - meant two things.
One. This could only be Nondi Steiner and Two, Hanse had provided the full report.
Joy.
Perhaps I should have used language other than ‘Later will blindly follow whoever waves the TRUE STEINER banner hardest even if said person first carefully covers said banner in excrement’…
On the other side of the table was Quintus Allard and next to him was a man looking equally as nonchalant in a business suit, whom I guessed was probably Simon Johnson, the head of the Lyran Intelligence Corps.
And I had this rather select group’s complete and undivided attention. You know, short of standing in front of the First Circuit doing standup comedy about a war between blenders and toasters, I couldn’t think of many crowds tougher than this one…
Having finished exchanging pleasantries with his host, Ardan saluted his Prince and then took the seat he was gestured to, opposite the ruler of the Federated Suns, leaving me the sole focus of the entire room
“And Mister Smith - our welcome to you as well” Katrina called to me as her icy blue eyes settled upon me.
“Archon” I offered her a respectful sort of bow as we studied each other for a moment. I didn’t move, feeling that I had not been invited to sit down as yet as she studied me and I studied her.
Yup, total MILF - damnit John, STOP THAT! Bad mind! Bad!
“Prince Davion has told me a great many things about you” she continued after a moment, her eyes focused like lasers that burned away any happy thoughts in a flash. “Things that are utterly impossible and yet” she gestured to the window where our dropships were starting to gather a light dusting of late afternoon snow on their hulls, “here we are”.
I considered that not quite statement, not quite question, for a moment, wondering if she wanted some kind of sign from me. I toyed with several before deciding that it would be far better to keep my mouth shut and simply inclined my head briefly, which earned me in turn a simple gesture to the remaining empty chair next to Ardan, opposite both rulers. I gave Hanse a nod of greeting that was returned and I sat down, determined to keep my mouth shut and present the smallest possible target.
“Colonel Kell” Katrina nodded at her cousin-in-law, “has briefed us on the events on Helm. Prince Davion and I will be holding a joint announcement of our operation tomorrow at midday. However I wanted to take the chance to reflect on the events and how they pertain to our future strategies”.
“Has the Free World League retaliated to our raids?” Ardan asked first.
“Not as yet, no” Nondi said. They still seem to be trying to figure out exactly what happened. They’ve moved the 23rd Marik Militia to Helm and they are maintaining a defensive alert on the border, but right now there is just confusion bouncing back and forth between Atreus and the provinces”.
“Any reaction from ComStar?” I asked then - my number one concern.
“Officially, no” Katrina shook her head once, which did highly distracting things with her blond hair - stop that! “Although it would be rare as a matter of policy for ComStar to comment about these kinds of skirmishes between the Great Houses”.
“Unofficially” Simon Johnson joined the conversation, “Precentor Tharkad and Precentor New Avalon have both been recalled to Terra for a ‘routine meeting of the First Circuit’ which suggests that ComStar have figured it out - or at least strongly suspect what happened. Quintus and I” he nodded at the head of MIIO who nodded back “are already carefully placing information that, with a little investigation by ROM, will show that while we took considerable war material, we failed in our primary objective of recovering the data core. And that the self-destruction of the cache was the result of a failed attempt to disarm the security systems. Hopefully, it will preclude any immediate action from ComStar, but we will be taking precautions none the less”.
“Any plans for the military hardware as yet?” I asked the Archon in curiosity before wondering if I was overstepping my grounds here. After all when you really got down to it, I was really just a source of information for these people, not advice. She was the ruler of hundreds upon hundreds of worlds and hundreds of billions of people and at least in Battletechs point of view, perhaps the greatest ruler of a Successor State in history - present company included.
Nonetheless, my question elicited no negative reaction from anyone in the room.
“Nothing solid as yet - I expect after tomorrow when news inevitably leaks, I’ll have most of the flag officers on Tharkad pounding on my door to ask for everything, probably accompanied by half the Estates Generals trying to advance this or that agenda” Katrina sighed. Then she considered me and tilted her head a fraction. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“I always have suggestions - even when I should keep my mouth shut” I noted, earning a raised eyebrow from Katrina and grin from Hanse Davion.
“Given that you’ve proven your unique bonafides in a rather spectacular fashion Mister Smith, I’d certainly submit that if anyone has earned the right to give me suggestions on what to do with the haul, it would be you” the Archon noted as she leaned back, gesturing me to continue.
I cleared my throat before deciding that Katrina was, from what I ‘knew’, one hell of a straight shooter who appreciated honest and direct advice and abhorred both kiss asses and indecisive time wasters. So...
“Use the gear to rebuild and recommission the Fourth Royal Guards as a new Regimental Combat Team” I said straight up and the slightly amused look vanished from her face. Nondi seemed to recoil slightly before getting control of herself as did Patrick - although Simon Johnson remained as neutral as ever, while Hanse looked genuinely intrigued.
In for a penny…
“Bring back the Pride of the Commonwealth to symbolically ‘complete’ the LCAF before you go into the alliance with House Davion” I continued. “Use the action to draw a line under the declines of the Succession Wars and make it clear that the LCAF will rise on their own to become worthy peers to the AFFS, not be dragged up by them. And as a bonus, cause Takashi Kurita some sleepless nights thinking that an elite unit with Royal grade SLDF technology and an enormous hateboner for the Combine is now sitting on his border, biding its time...”
My rather bold suggestion seemed to have stunned the room into silence for a long, long moment.
“Rebuild the Fourth…” Katrina finally said softly, her gaze distant as she carefully took the idea and started to examine something she had probably dismissed as nonsense at first and I could guess where she was coming from. The 4th had been a symbol for the LCAF for almost two centuries now - almost to the point of being a minor sacrilege to even consider touching it … and yet that could make it an even more powerful gesture - if used correctly.
And if there was anyone who understood the value of ideas and how to use them, it was Katrina bloody Steiner.
“It would be one hell of a symbol” Patrick took up the discussion, his eyes focused intently on Katrina, his voice sounding as if the idea had caught his imagination. “And even more of a statement. Not to mention providing a bulletproof reason to keep control of all the advanced technology - concentrated in a way not even Lestrade would dare whine about”.
“The LCAF would love it - and that’s putting it mildly” Nondi joined the conversation, her own eyes gleaming with a sudden intensity as the idea seemed to take hold of the room. “No-one in the Estates Generals would dare speak against the idea - and the news would indeed probably scare the pants off the Dracs if we made it clear that these are going to be the best people you can find for the job”.
Well Nondi was more optimistic than I - there would always be an idiot who spoke against things, but I think it was safe to suggest that doing so would be a very bad idea.
Katrina though just sat in silent thought through the exchange before she glanced at me once again, her eyes impossible to read.
“This happened in the … original timeline?” she asked me carefully.
“Yes” I nodded - “although not until quite some time in the future” I noted, without telling her it was in fact sixty years in the future. But the gesture had scored Adam Steiner huge kudos from the LCAF and civilian population, so, why not give it a shot? “Suffice to say it was a wildly popular gesture and they became the flagship unit of the LCAF”.
“You certainly think big, Mister Smith” she finally said “and are not shy about turning over tables” as her eyes bored into me making me feel about an inch high. “Perhaps because you still see this, all of this, as a ‘table-top’ game … but damn me if the idea doesn’t fire the imagination” she said, releasing me from her stare as she turned to her sister decisively. “Put together a working group, quietly, to look at how we would make this work”.
“I know just the person” Nondi nodded confidently as she scribbled a note in her papers. “I’ll tap Edward Regis - and he would also be my recommendation for command if we did go ahead” Nondi said. “It would nominally be a demotion from his current position ... but the chance to rebuild the 4th Royal Guards and then lead them? Using them as a showpiece for what the LCAF can do? He’ll be on his knees begging you for the chance. Otherwise I’d suggest Fredrick, but…” she finished with a glance at me for a brief second, clearly having read my notes on that wonderfully contradictory man's future.
Katrina nodded, then turned to face Hanse.
“If I’m going to use this unit as, as Mister Smith suggests, it would be rather counterproductive to rebuild forth entirely out of Assaults. So I’ll trade you … let's say a company of Assaults for the Battalion of mixed lights and fast mediums you got from the cache”.
“Three companies for four Lances” Hanse immediately countered her offer.
Katrina smiled like a loan shark.
“The full battalion for five lances - and I can borrow Andrew Redburn and another dozen handpicked Light Guards officers for the next four years as exchange officers” she said with a sweet smile.
“Done!” Hanse agreed with a sharp nod and Katrina took his extended hand and shook it firmly.
“Thank you Hanse” she smiled again. “Now” she continued, turning her attention back to me, “any more out of the box thinking for us, Mister Smith?”
Discarded pizza boxes are an invaluable source of cheese I wanted to snark for no clear reason. Probably stress. Holy hell that single look from Katrina had intimidated me more than the entire first meeting with Hanse Davion. But then she wasn’t considered a political mastermind beyond even Hanse for no reason.
“Plenty - but none pertinent to the current discussions Archon” I said instead.
“Very well - next on the agenda is strategic threats” and now Katrina's gaze bore into me in a way that finally killed even the slightest desire to snark. “Mister Smith; we are going to start with the planet Odessa and the ‘Ruins of Gabriel’. I have quite a few questions around the ruling family of a world who would bow to Tharkad … and kneel to Terra…"
Thus ends Book 1 of ‘This Was Easier on the Tabletop’.
Book Two – ‘Your toast appears to be on fire…’
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questions... now this takes place in 3026 or 3027. Was Helm owned by the GDL at this time or not until 3028? Were their dependents on planet at this time? Clearly the ripples of AU are expanding here as the GDL will NOT become famous for the Helm Memory Core but will this occurrence cause them to RTB back to Helm to at least investigate?
This is taking place in later 3026. If I'm correct about the timing (I could be wrong) the Grey Death Legion RIGHT about this time are back on Galatea flush with salvage and rebuilding themselves and negotiating for a landhold.
They are probably as of the end of this chapter on their way to Helm to take formal possession of their landhold (now with plenty of new Beach Front property!) and will arrive right into the middle of a shitstorm of locking gates to keep horses that have long since bolted inside. But their dependents will be at least happy that the planets main hospital in Helmsdown is surprisingly well equipped for such a backwater planet!
and Precentor Emilio Rachan… where is he when this capper raid goes down?
Carefully putting the finishing touches to execute his plans in some nice corner office in Cairo. Unaware that in twenty minutes, he is going to get a sudden 'report to Hilton Head, your presence is requested by the Primus and a drop shuttle is waiting at Pad-8'. And these nice people from Rho/Omicron will escort you there!
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The problem isn't Teddy K, its everybody else in the Combine. The only way he's going to change that House is if the Combine suffers through its version of Japan's WW2. The Combine needs to lose so badly that it renounces foreign adventurism & turn mercantile. Helping Teddy K simply isn't worth the headache.
The problem isn´t Teddy K. That is correct. The problem is the extremists, such as the Black Dragon Society.
Teddy K would be a massive obstacle to removing the DC from the Succession Wars equation - which isn´t a problem if that is not your goal. Teddy K is the perfect Coordinator to face the Clan Invasion, however, if you do not want the DC to collapse (which it probably would have, had Hanse not sent the Hounds and Dragoons to defend Luthien).
A Teddy K who owes Hanse his life, his throne and his realm, because Hanse warned him about the Black Dragon Society´s machinations and the impending Clan invasion, could be a powerful ally. At worst, he would be a guarantee that, as canonically, the DC would not backstab the FC while the threat of the Clans remains. At best, he might be the next step to the end of the Succession Wars.
So, give him all relevant information about the Black Dragon Society and about ComStar´s intentions right now, ideally in a way that allows him to verify enough of it that he trusts it all. Maybe also tell him how certain people are trying to screw with Wolf´s Dragoons, so that perhaps he can avoid all the unpleasantness towards the end of "Wolves on the Border".
That sort of information will be urgent, useful and verifiable enough that, when you someday tell him about the impending arrival of the Clans, he´ll be inclined to believe you.
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"My entirely inappropriate first thought upon seeing the ruler of the Lyran Commonwealth as she and Ardan renewed their acquaintance … was that she really was a Mega-MILF.
I immediately gave myself a mental Gibs Slap"
LOL!!!
glad i was alone when that popped up
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Hilarity ensues. :) Keep it up - this is entertaining as heck.
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I just had another idea... what about contacting Jaime Wolf and letting him know, firstly, that Hanse is completely aware of who the Dragoons really are, and secondly, what the DC has in store for them?
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But would Jaime Believe it?
No the next stop should be Outreach and look for the "sites" that we know the Wolf's wanted.
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But would Jaime Believe it?
No the next stop should be Outreach and look for the "sites" that we know the Wolf's wanted.
Jaime might not believe what he is told about the events of "Wolves on the Border", because there is no way for Hanse to know that. But if he is told that Hanse knows about the Clans, which Hanse has no way of knowing about, either, he´ll take the other stuff seriously, I think. Furthermore, there should be something on "Wolves on the Border" that gives the Dragoons a starting point for verifying the rest.
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Damn excellent writing! You nail the characters and the humour and snark of the SI is a wonderful counter to the oppressive courtly goings on and horse trading.
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don't often say much on the forum but , WOW what a great story keep it up . :clap: :clap: :clap:
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I just had another idea... what about contacting Jaime Wolf and letting him know, firstly, that Hanse is completely aware of who the Dragoons really are, and secondly, what the DC has in store for them?
That's kinda a rock and a hard place. The Dragoon fued with the combine went a long way tord making the 4th war possible especially since Michael held back the Cappelan march troops. Acting now might preserve some Dragoons strength but could make the overall coming war much harder. Besides without Misery the Riuken will be at full strength for the 4th war.
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Amazing SI. :thumbsup:
Please, please continue.
So - points of interest / future visits: New Dallas (Hegemony Core), Odessa - very dangerous place because Comstar is present and most probable have operational warships there. And after SW4 - before 'gifting' Outreach to WD, extract all of the nice toys that exist there.Don't forget about Niops Association - they have a lot of useful data.
Question - the Hegemony core have the blueprints of the Nighthawks ? If not, the Niops Association have - and is a very useful thing to have against ROM.
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That's kinda a rock and a hard place. The Dragoon fued with the combine went a long way tord making the 4th war possible especially since Michael held back the Cappelan march troops. Acting now might preserve some Dragoons strength but could make the overall coming war much harder. Besides without Misery the Riuken will be at full strength for the 4th war.
That feud might still exist - but enough forewarning, the Dragoons might be able to get their dependants out of the Combine in time. I assume that neither the dependant nor the transport capacity needed to move them are strictly speaking under contract with the DC, so the Dragoons could quietly evacuate them into the Federated Suns before the shit hits the fan.
Besides, with both the carrot of enough forewarning to evacuate their dependants, and the stick of exposing the Dragoons as Clan spies, Hanse just *might* be able to get them to break their contract over how the DC has treated them, and accept a new contract from him - *that* will definitely get the feud going.
Also, regarding Outreach - what nice toys does Outreach have that an immediately accessible Helm Core does not have? And I imagine that after his revelations to them, Hanse might get away with telling the Dragoons that he knows why they want Outreach in particular, and that they can only have it if they share its nice toys with him.
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a fleet of jumpships pop into needed system
a message from Davion, we can help, will explain later
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That feud might still exist - but enough forewarning, the Dragoons might be able to get their dependants out of the Combine in time. I assume that neither the dependant nor the transport capacity needed to move them are strictly speaking under contract with the DC, so the Dragoons could quietly evacuate them into the Federated Suns before the shit hits the fan.
Besides, with both the carrot of enough forewarning to evacuate their dependants, and the stick of exposing the Dragoons as Clan spies, Hanse just *might* be able to get them to break their contract over how the DC has treated them, and accept a new contract from him - *that* will definitely get the feud going.
Also, regarding Outreach - what nice toys does Outreach have that an immediately accessible Helm Core does not have? And I imagine that after his revelations to them, Hanse might get away with telling the Dragoons that he knows why they want Outreach in particular, and that they can only have it if they share its nice toys with him.
The feud centers on Tetshauras death. No Misery no death no feud.
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Also, regarding Outreach - what nice toys does Outreach have that an immediately accessible Helm Core does not have? And I imagine that after his revelations to them, Hanse might get away with telling the Dragoons that he knows why they want Outreach in particular, and that they can only have it if they share its nice toys with him.
can you say Daishi-spam? I think Outreach has manufacturing capacity, not stored Battlemechs...
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can you say Daishi-spam? I think Outreach has manufacturing capacity, not stored Battlemechs...
Yep it wasn't in perfect condition but it was a factory.
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Tagged.
...And you had better remember to post this as a pdf after you finish it. This is on a par with Drakensis' 'Davion and Davion (Deceased) story.
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It would have been fun to see Snord after hearing Smith say how Helm used to be a land of dreams... and such a pleasant place to visit on behalf of the Davion clan... and such a trial to see such a place brought low...
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Just read through chapter 1. Great read, really looking forward to chapter 2. :beer:
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tagged
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Need more
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Nondi's reaction and Smith's evaluation of her were great
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I'm still laughing at the mental Gibbs smack.
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This is excellent work, I love a good SI. I’m looking forward to the next book.
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TLDR version I decided that I couldn't end Book 1 *there*
So I decided to tie it up a bit better, then go for a bit of a timeskip of a few years.
Then mission creep of course set in.
So this is chapter 9 which is half of the 'end' of Book 1, which in the next few days hopefully will be followed by Chapter 10.
Enjoy!
***
Chapter 9: Hell Hath no Fury...
‘And so this is Christmas’, as the song went.
Or just about.
December 3026 to be specific.
But … this wasn't Christmas.
Christmas was the Australian summer. Gloriously hot days with a family BBQ running around the backyard as a kid, followed by presents and cousins and all that fun stuff. It had been dressing in shorts and a T-shirt and spraying super soakers and hoses around if it was one of those REALLY hot days. It was about good food and a million little things from Christmas carols to various well-loved movies and TV shows that came on.
And now I had none of that.
I had felt homesick at different times of course. But Tharkad really drove that home for me in a way it hadn’t exactly hit me before. Which was ironic because if there was a place that was as unlike an ‘Australian’ Christmas as possible, it was Tharkad.
I mean, Elsa would have taken one look at city and handed over her title of Snow Queen to Katrina on the spot had she seen this much powder.
Most of all though, snow and temperature aside … it wasn’t Christmas because I didn’t have any family, didn't have anyone to share it with.
But then, perhaps for all my secret knowledge about BattleTech, I might be somewhat blind for seeing what was in front of my face.
***
******
***
The meeting with the Powers that Be extended for another three hours, of which I stayed for two as we discussed the raid on Helm, its after effects and some of the more pressing issues Katrina wanted to bring up.
ComStar were a major -arguably the major - topic of conversation, which wasn’t terribly surprising given that Katrina had just found out one of her worlds was in essence under ComStar de facto control. So much so the order was able to operate a naval base deep in the outer system with near impunity.
Unfortunately there were not any really good options for dealing with the ‘Ruins of Gabriel’ as the former SLDF base was called (seriously who the ****** named it that?). I simply didn’t know enough about the structure of the Hidden Worlds at this point in time to give her solid intelligence on how they fit in with the rest of the order - especially communications lines and probable response times. I knew the Primus was ultimately in command of them and surely the current Precentor ROM had his part to play too. But how much of an active link there was with the rest of the order as opposed to the implied extreme compartmentalization the order practiced ? Well, their guess was as good as mine. I mean there was a solid chance ‘Gabriel’ was in mothballs with just a caretaker crew and being used as a ROM transit station with 90% of the ComGuard fleet in mothballs … or it could be a major hub of the explorer corps, who knew?
Could the LCAF chance a special forces blitz to sneak in, seize the base and loot the hell out of it without word getting out?
Possibly.
Could I offer any guarantees over it?
Hell no.
Accordingly, Katrina was convinced to let the system and its secrets be for now, as much as it clearly grated on her to leave ComStar so flagrantly violating her realm. The cold truth was that, for now, we had to just grin and bare it dealing with the toasters although Simon Johnson and Quintus Allard assured their bosses they were working on short, medium and long term answers to the ComStar conundrum, so the phone company issue was parked for now to discuss other more immediate I might be able to offer commentary on, starting with the Genyosha and re-emergence of Yorinaga Kurita … which bizarrely everyone at the table seemed to take as a grave threat.
I think I actually earned, possibly against her will, a grin from Nondi Steiner by daring to roll my eyes when asked about the threat, scoffing that one Mechwarrior was hardly an existential threat to the Federated Commonwealth nations. And that if you had to face him, there were perfectly valid workarounds to the so-called Phantom Mech ability. From the brute force approach of dedicating a headhunter lance of fast brawlers (Chargers if you could find them) to chase him down and rip his Warhammer open with their bare hands while you dealt with his support, to simply performing grid square removal with artillery and air strikes while he was inside said grid square.
I didn’t bother to go into deeper options that had been speculated in far too many threads on the internet - like my favorite of turning sidecar medium lasers on Marauders into glorified targeting laser pointers a GM in an RPG had allowed me once - or finding a half competent programmer to reprogram the targeting system to do optical reference targeting. And I knew the latter was possible because Dan Allard managed to jury rig such a solution on the fly (and seemingly never bothered to tell anyone about it) but honestly, I got the feeling I was arguing uphill here against a room full of Mechwarriors who saw Yorinaga as the devil and Morgan as their savior.
So, I was unsurprised when Patrick announced he would have Salome take the Hounds back to Pacifica after the New Year but he would go to see Morgan and bring him back to lead the Hounds into this long delayed showdown.
His grave decision got the expected solemn nods from around the table.
I, meanwhile, was proud that I didn’t roll my eyes at the whole air of ‘You cannot escape your destiny; you must face Darth Vader again!’ ... but a pointed look from Hanse -who was clearly reading my mind- kept my mouth firmly shut.
And yet … I had to admit feeling happy for the idea of Patrick being the one to go and get his brother this time. Instead of the duty falling to Dan Allard who also got to tell Morgan his brother died fighting the fight he ran away from.
Now this was a butterfly; Patrick and Morgan Kell together once again; the two Kell Hounds facing down the DCMS together and beyond into the future. Hell, perhaps Christian and Patrick could take Phelan more in hand-
Oh ******! I had totally forgotten about Christian Kell!
Did I butterfly him - no, he was conceived at the start of this year, I think, before any butterflies from me should have hit. But glancing across at the troubled expression on Patrick’s face at the thought of his brothers nemesis coming out of retirement, I decided to hold on that thought for now until I could quietly discuss it and the implications of springing an illegitimate son on Patrick, on far wiser people than I.
Shaking off the implications, I heard Katrina ask me if there were any other issues I felt needed addressing here and now and I took the opportunity to inquire about the New Dallas operation status.
Memory cores! Gotta catch’em all!
The response was both disappointing and yet satisfactory at the same time. The simple answer was that no-one expected any outcomes on that mission for at least another few months at the earliest, more likely half a year. Apparently due to my annoyingly vague memory that there was some kind of sensor tripwire and automated HPG in-system that would scream ‘INTRUDER ALERT!’ to Terra if someone came in obviously to the planet, the DMI team sent were taking a very covert entry method that could best be described as ‘pretend to be space junk and drift your way in cold' from a nonstandard jump point. It was a technique apparently incredibly effective against the kind of passive systems they were expecting to come up against. But equally, it was incredibly slow.
Having just been trapped on a dropship for months, I really felt for the poor bastards, but was assured these people were professionals who could handle it. And they had one of the few FAX machines NAIS had painstakingly hand built that LIC and DMI were listening for if they needed help, so I suppose now we just had to wait and see what they came up with.
Anyway, by this point in time the sun had well and truly set outside the massive windows as time rolled on and so my participation in this conference was ended. The other people in the room had quite a few other things to talk about for the next hour or so until the bigass feast took place, so I was ushered downstairs to wait in a secure but comfortable room with some more light snacks. An hour later the power duo swung by to visit me on their way to get changed into uniform for the RCT feast … to tell me I wouldn’t be part of it.
But not to worry, the Archon was extending me an invitation for me to stay at the Royal Palace: one of the three buildings that made up ‘The ‘Triad’! Or, to put it more accurately, I was going to be put on ice there until after the chaos of Christmas had passed. At which point I would be formally debriefed by a chosen LIC team.
It made me feel a bit like one of Hanse Davions toys that his friend was asking if she could play with, I must admit. Sure Katrina did technically ask me for my agreement, but it was sort of a Hobson’s choice really. Like I was going to say no to her!
Okay, I admit it - the woman intimidated me! How the ****** morons like Lestrade and her cousin thought they would ever get away with crossing her after meeting her in person…
Anyway, Hanse and Katrina had remained to go celebrate with the rest of the task force that evening - after a brief face to face with all the people in the task force who knew about the memory core to, inside a shielded room, make it jointly clear (after profusely congratulating them on getting the memory core out clean and safely) that there was no memory core….
I meanwhile was shuffled off quietly onto an unmarked fusion-jet due to fly back to Tharkad City by Simon Johnson and Quintus Allard. An LIC special, the VTOL took the difficulties of trying to bug a noisy aircraft and quite deliberately increased them with passive and active countermeasures to the point that the cabin was so noisy we had to put on ear protectors - which doubled as a closed direct hard link comms system which was switched on when we reached cruising altitude.
“John, I haven't had the opportunity yet so I’d like to add my congratulations to those of the Prince and Archon for what you accomplished on Helm” Quintus started as he reached over to pull his folio folder deal out of his locked attaché case ... and begun the process of carefully unlocking it in turn.
“And my congratulations too” Simon Johnson added. “We have validated the memory cores authenticity and sheer scope of its database; suffice to say you have just casually altered the course of history and changed the balance of power in the Inner Sphere. Very, very well done”.
“I wouldn’t go that far” I said, gesturing with a hand quickly. “Even in the original timeline, the NAIS got a copy of the core less than five years from now. I just ‘fast forwarded’ things a bit really - and I had a lot of help, my presence was mostly superfluous in the raid”.
“Perhaps, perhaps not” Johnson shrugged, studying me with a practiced ease that was as penetrating as it was nonchalantly friendly. “Although based on your statements on New Avalon, reports from Helm and those of the NAIS tech team; the ‘original timeline’ core would have taken considerable time and resources to extract data from revived ‘raw’ as it were. Not to mention” he added with a cold smile and gleam in his eye, “that while in that ‘original timeline’ all the Great Houses eventually got their hands on a copy of the core ... this time, it’s ours alone and without anyone knowing we even have it”.
“Precisely” Quintus agreed, sharing a sinister smile with Johnson that made the interior of the VTOL feel a tad chilly as the two spymasters engaged in some very rare and unprofessional gloating before their masks kicked back in and their expressions smoothed back out. “And we’re going to run with that edge you’ve given us for a while. The Archon and First Prince have both decided that 3027 will be the ‘year of silence’. Simon and I will be spending the time quietly scattering multiple redundant offline backups of the core across the Federated Commonwealth. Ultra-secure locations, black sites and rather more unassuming places that will make absolutely sure there can be no Holy Shroud type scenario against us. Meanwhile, NAIS will be getting to work with a focus on reproducing proof of concepts of Star League era machine tools, computers and fabrication techniques from the cores data before we even start looking at mass production or distribution scenarios”.
“Crawl, walk, run?” I suggested and Quintus nodded sharply.
“Well put” he agreed with another thin smile. “Once NAIS have confirmed the proof of concepts as viable, we’ll start quietly building the factories to build the tools to repair and refit production lines and factories across the Federated Suns, with a parallel but coordinated effort in the Commonwealth. We can actually do a surprising amount of work ‘under the radar’ to reach a breakout capacity before we move to mass manufacturing at a level that will draw notice. This will also let us do studies into the Federated Suns infrastructure and the optimal long term rebuilding strategies. MIIO has been doing preliminary identification and prioritization along those lines while you were on the way to Helm and LIC” he gestured at Simon, “is going to start in the new year. Although some of the machine tools and computer equipment you picked up on Helm have already been identified as perfectly suited to upgrading some of Coreans New Avalon plant and Defiance’s production lines on Hep-”
“Kwangjong-ni!” I suddenly blurred out as I remembered.
What the hell triggered it I wasn’t sure, but suddenly as they talked about production lins and lostech, that little detail from the Jihad timeframe struck like a lightning bolt from the sky.
Memory was a strange thing really. Bits and pieces of other Battletech lore had slowly come to the surface over time, most of it pretty much useless, but this…
The two spymasters meanwhile exchanged cagey glances before turning quite focused gazes on me, clearly interested in why I had just said that.
“Kwangjong-ni?” Simon asked very carefully and I nodded, screwing my eyes shut for a second and holding up a hand that silenced them as I wracked my brains to pull everything I could … which wasn’t a much as I hoped.
But hopefully it was enough so I opened my eyes to find both men watching me with expectant curiosity.
“Sorry, the mention of Defiance clicked something in me” I apologized, taking a breath to get my thoughts in order before starting, facing Simon Johnson. “I just remembered that during the 3070s and 3080s, when Defiance lost Hesperus II for a few years, they relied on satellite factories to keep the company going until it was taken back. And one of them was on Kwangjong-ni!”
“There isn’t a Defiance factory on Kwangjong-ni - not right now anyway” Simon noted in confusion before his eyes narrowed as he realized where I was going. “You're saying they found an old one?”
“That is exactly what I’m saying” I nodded and I could see that had gotten the attention of both men with Quintus making a notation in his noteputer silently off to the side. “It was one of the ‘hidden factories’ that ****** Stefan Amaris had running to help build up the Rim World forces for his secret army. The Star League had suspected it was there during their taking of the Rim Worlds but could never find it. Defiance, on the other hand, did”.
“Very interesting and, potentially, very useful of course” Simon agreed, rubbing his chin in thought. “But a planet is a rather large place to search Mister Smith and it sounds like the factory is very well hidden ... unless you happen to know exactly where it is?” he suggested in hope.
“No” I shook my head, causing him to sit back, looking slightly disappointed “But” I added quickly, “I know where it’s not. The primary reason the factory escaped detection was that it was built entirely under the ocean”.
“Under the ocean?” the two spymasters said in perfect unison, before blinking and glancing at each other, then back at me with near identical expressions of disbelief turning into grudging admiration as the implications sunk in.
“Under the ocean” Simon repeated in a softer tone, his eyes calculating and his brain clearly working hard. “A secure production site, made up of late Star League automated production lines … yes I can think of some uses for such a facility deep inside Lyran space” he smiled coldly looking back at me and inclining his head.
“It would seem I owe you my thanks once again Mister Smith. I must admit, this makes me quite eager to get to work debriefing you”.
“Yeah about that … we’re … not talking Narco Interrogation are we?” I frowned at that, trying to not show too much how understandably nervous the idea made me feel. My reading up on the process back on New Avalon and recollections of how incredibly unpleasant it was for the characters going through it made me very much want to avoid such questioning, even if it seemed to give quite impressive results for pulling information out of people they had quite possibly forgotten they knew...
And seriously, that cold smile, blue eyes and German accent, was giving me, probably unfairly, major ‘Zou are being very foolish! Ve ‘ave vays of making you talk!’ vibes right now....
But happily, said vibes vanished behind a display of professional disquiet from the man.
“Of course not” he protested with a not quite ‘hurt’ frown. “The Archon has made it very clear you are to be treated as an honored guest during your stay. We simply intend to see if any new ‘thoughts’ about ‘Battletech’ have shaken loose, ask some of our own questions and expand on some information you have provided. I’m certainly not handing you over to LOKI”.
I gave Simon a look at that but -predictably- found absolutely nothing but a perfect poker face with a look of earnest politeness staring back at me … and as his words sunk in, I realized I had forgotten a minor little detail … until it was literally looking me in the face.
And that, was Heimdall.
Officially ‘denounced as terrorists’ and unofficially the ‘who watches the watchers?’ arm of the Lyran Intelligence Corps; Heimdall held a somewhat unique position in the Inner Sphere. Made up of a mixture of ‘sane’ LIC personnel who detested LOKIs often brutal tactics, military officers, politicians and ‘normal’ people who saw themselves as guardians against LOKI and LIC excesses (and had often been their victims), Heimdall had a presence vertically and horizontally across all of the Commonwealth, but was very decentralized in command and control. The exact nature of the organization changed with the times too; against Katrina’s moronic and brutal predecessor the organization had been openly at war with LOKI, who were engaging in state sanctioned terrorism all over the place to silence critics.
Which made the fact that Alessandro Steiner had promoted Simon Johnson, secretly a key Heimdall agent, into the position of LIC head with orders to crush Heimdall one of those glorious historical ironies.
The organization had been critical to Katrina Steiner first surviving the attentions of and then deposing her Uncle. Katrina in turn upon assuming power had rapaid their faith in her by yanking on LOKI’s choke-chain until they understood they did not wag her and their previous tactics would no longer be tolerated under her reign.
Heimdall had become somewhat inactive as a result. Had even, in some places, formed cells that were almost an open secret among the locals. In the current time period, the biggest impact they had made was one cell trying to be too clever investigating why someone wanted to sour the growing relationship between the Commonwealth and Suns, stumbling right onto Melissa Steiner traveling incognito to meet Hanse Davion and unknowingly putting her in terrible danger (and showing themselves as flawed humans in their cheerful willingness to sacrifice one unwilling innocent life for hundreds if need be), playing politics games they really had no business playing.
Of course, all of that mess with the Silver Eagle shouldn’t happen this time, as I’m sure Hanse and Melissa would be -probably already were - spending time together now. And that in turn would save Patrick Kell’s life … probably.
Unless he gets killed another way, hardly unlikely for a Mechwarrior after all. Oh how the butterflies started to flap…
Presently, I took a breath and noted the others were clearly waiting for my reaction, but even as I opened my mouth to speak, Quintus read my mind (it got really annoying when all these people kept doing) and pre-empted me.
“Only you, Simon, Prince Davion and myself have read the complete copy of Warrior: Coup” the Minister said quietly, drawing my attention back immediately. “The copy that was ‘officially’ given to the Archon was almost the same, but with six key lines carefully changed and removed after the Prince and I discussed the implications, a decision Simon here backed”.
Oh ****** joy, now I was apparently keeping secrets from Katrina Steiner? And just so happened to be the only one of said quartet she could probably shoot if she got miffed about that and wanted to vent? Great! Just great!
“I’m guessing you’re talking about where Morgan Kell exposes that Simon here is a key member of Heimdall?” I suggested, pushing the ‘bad thoughts’ to the side as both men nodded -clearing watching my reaction closely- so I took a deep breath in and out before nodding grudgingly. “It’s understandable and I’ll keep the secret too” I said, choosing my words carefully but honestly. “I can certainly understand why; I’m sure that you don’t want to put the Archon in a difficult position Minister Johnson … and the long term security and effectiveness of Heimdall is clearly linked to it being loyal to, but outside the direct control of Katrina and her Heirs”.
“I’m pleased to hear you see it that way” Simon thanked me, his eyes seeming to bore into mine in a way that I tried to tell myself wasn’t him saying ‘Forget this promise and you will not like the consequences’. “LOKI, despite what I can see you might think of them from your debriefing on New Avalon, are often a necessary evil for the Commonwealth … but I’m also aware of just how easy it is to abuse their capabilities and that a counterweight is needed outside official control, but vetted and loyal”.
I simply nodded my acceptance of that, hardly convinced but keeping my mouth shut on the subject. LOKI had been, with the ‘Germans in Space!’ theme of Battletechs Lyran Commonwealth, something disturbingly akin to the Waffen SS or Gestapo in a lot of ways. Beholden only to the Archon and trusted delegates, ruthless and with very little in the way of checks and balances. Heimdall did not exist in a vacuum but was a direct reaction to that reality.
On the other hand, the Rabid Foxes didn’t get their name because they limited their actions to leaving flaming bags on the front porch of various enemies of the Federated Suns...
My train of thought was cut off as the aircraft jolted under me, banking and starting to descend. I glanced at bulkhead mounted map readout and was surprised to see we were already over the greater Tharkad City region, descending quickly towards our destination. One of the perks of hanging out with these kinds of people, I generally only touched the best stuff, like supersonic personal private transports on priority clearances, which sure as hell beat flying wedged into a seat on a 737.
“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about before we land?” Simon asked at that point, looking at me expectantly and I considered the question carefully. Most of what I might have wanted to ask or check about had been touched on in the meeting with the Prince and Archon, but...
“Yes. Christian Kell”.
“Christian Kell?” Simon echoed after a glance to Quintus who only shrugged.
“Patrick Kell’s Son” I clarified and that earned me a surprised reaction from both men who clearly did not know of this. “He would have been born at some time this year to a woman named Takara? I think that's it. Anyway, they had a liaison nine months ago and Takara should have given birth to his son by now. She in the original timeline kept it a secret, so…”
“Patrick Kell died defending Melissa Steiner - without knowing he had a son?” Simon Johnson queried and I nodded, continuing the story.
“Christian would later seek out Morgan after finding a letter from his mother explaining things. After confirming his identity, Morgan called in a favour from Jamie Wolf to have him trained personally by the Dragoons, the man earning his place - even serving under Kerensky for a time - and later joining the Kell Hounds and becoming one of their best officers”.
“Impressive - but irrespective of what he becomes, I’d certainly agree that Patrick Kell has a right to know about his Son” Simon noted, pausing to consider the situation for a few moments in thought before coming to a decision with a small smile.
“I’ll have Heimdall contacted to look into it. The Styx cell can quietly make contact, extract her and her son to Arc Royal and let Patrick know through those channels - I need to take the Holsteins in hand anyway”.
“Thank you” I said gratefully, feeling I had actually accomplished something worthwhile today with that one action, but Simon just shook his head, dismissing my thanks.
“The man has more than earned such consideration - and the Archon would be … displeased if she found out I knew about this and didn’t do whatever it took to reunite father and Son. Especially given Melissa’s lack of a Father...” he trailed off with something of a wince in his expression and defining whole new level of subtext in the word ‘disappointed’...
Well, good to know I’m not the only one terrified of earning Katrina’s disappointment.
The final thing was talked about as we dropped altitude and airspeed was confirming my suspicions of what the Fox’s Teeth had been doing playing with Alpha Regiment of the Wolf’s Dragoons on Barrows End, which hadn’t come up back with the leadership. It seemed that Hanse and Quintus, having known exactly where and when a Dragoon raid was going to hit thanks to ‘Wolves on the Border’, had decided to go Christmas shopping early.
I wasn’t sure if Jamie Wolf would be pleased with the news that McKinnon's boys had helped themselves (with the help of an expanded Rabid Fox team and the Eridani Light Horse) to ‘three Badgers looted, two salvaged Bandits and a partridge in a pear tree’ … but he’d probably have liked Blackwells facilities on New Valencia getting seized and shut down by MIIO even less. Which, in all seriousness, was apparently the next option on the table, given that they exclusively supplied the Dragoons alone (who were in full service to the Draconis Combine right now) and House Davion had a whole slew of legal solutions to use when a company didn’t ‘correctly’ hedge its bets by supplying its host nation and allied merc units too.
Anyway, we landed at the palace and it was there I parted ways with the two spymasters who were off to Simon's office to put a late night of work in while I was escorted swiftly to my room after declining the offer of dinner. With every step I took into the palace following some servant, my final emotional and physical energy reserves seemed to rapidly dry up, finding myself barely even taking note of the spectacular building I was walking through which seemed to go on forever.
Hell, the only thing I really remembered was the glorious queen sized bed in my room a servant showed me before hastily exiting as I started to undress, barely remembering my manners to thank him for his help.
And so I dumped my clothes on a convenient chair, dragged myself into the nest of blankets and was fast asleep for the first time in months in a real ****** bed in a real ****** gravity well.
-
***
******
***
Ten hours later I woke up slowly. And it was glorious to do so.
For months, living with Ardan Sortek late nights and early starts had been the order of the day. Sleeping in was just not something that was going to happen on a military dropship of the Davion Guards - let alone in a room with him dictating rising and sleeping. Complaints had fallen on deaf ears as I was dragged off to morning calisthenics to fight off Zero-G muscle wasting with the rest of the sickeningly fit guards who looked like their muscles were made out of liquid metal for how rock solid their abbs looked. Apparently with all members of the brigade ‘encouraged’ to pump iron in their off hours until they only vaguely looked human when in gym clothes.
But today?
Today I could just kick back in bed and slowly wake up, enjoying the paradoxically soft yet firm mattress and silky smooth yet warm sheets and thick blankets as opposed to zero-g wrappings brought from the lowest bidder for the AFFS.
Eventually however I got myself up, washed and dressed (my clothes and a whole wardrobe in my size had been delivered into a walk in closet from an outside door in it at some point during the night it seemed) and with a little searching, I found the room's phone to call and see exactly where one went to get food around here. My stomach impatiently reminding me I hadn’t really eaten much in about eighteen hours.
The exceedingly helpful man on the other end of the phone however almost sounded amused when he told me that there was no need for a menu; simply to ask what I wanted and it would be delivered. Part of my mind immediately declared ‘Challenge accepted!’ and I placed an order for far too much food that was far too rich, having grown thoroughly sick of dropship rations since leaving New Avalon.
I regretted that decision an hour later as my body made its displeasure known at me shoveling incredible food down my throat like some Season One Homer Simpson in front of an All You Can Eat sign.
Decadence. Noun.
[LIST=1]
- Moral or cultural decline as characterized by excessive indulgence in pleasure or luxury.
- The lives of Neo-feudal nobility in the Lyran Commonwealth.
Still a few hours after that and my stomach had finished its protests, more or less, and I migrated to the sort of living room/office next to the bedroom. Turning on the vid I worked my way to the news channels - of which Tharkad had plenty - and unsurprisingly found them either all talking about or had bright news banners announcing that Katrina Steiner had called a 1PM press conference for this afternoon.
As that was still an hour or so away, I moved past them looking for something else to watch and found the ComStar News Network. Unable to help myself, I turned up the volume, morbidly curious about what the toaster worshipers were saying, but it wasn’t a live feed. Instead, some show called ‘Around the Rim’ was starting. Apparently, a weekly show summing up the ‘going ons’ in the Periphery … and it seemed this week they were leading off with a news report on the … Rimward Frontier?
Huh. Never heard of that…
Helpfully the map zoomed in and defined it as the region of space between the Taurian Concordat and Magistracy of Canopus and I leaned forward in curiosity. I had never seen anything on Battletechs maps in that region of space … but in hindsight, that was probably just because the writers hadn’t bothered to write anything about it. After all, with two Periphery powers glaring at each other across it plus the Confederation and Free Worlds League forming a ‘Northern’ border of that region, it made sense that there would be something there.
Muting the TV -and switching it back to Tharkad City News from the ComStar rep evangelising about how much good the order was doing in the Illyrian Palatinate - I walked over to the desk against the wall and powered the terminal there with only a little grumbling at its clunky interface.
Gods, who thought I’d so dearly miss Microsoft a thousand years of the future? Have pity on me, oh Great God Gates and provide me a GUI worthy of the 1990s!
There was no answer from the multiverse, so I sighed and carried on with what I had.
The mainframe in the Triad this terminal was connected to was unsurprisingly massive; with data from across the Inner Sphere. Say what you will about Battletech computers, storage space was not something they had any issue with and were light years ahead in, meaning the Triad had masses of captured data on anything and everything. Quickly enough I had isolated a number of public and Government fact sheets, briefings and historical texts on the region and went to work digging into them.
My first impression was that I had discovered the Chaos March thirty years early given the number of factions, major powers backing said factions and independent and micro-states with rapidly changing allegiances, alliances, back stabbings and mercenaries of less than reputable rating working for the highest bidder on a day to day basis...
Of course, unlike the Chaos March which had been formed around some of the most productive, populated and valuable worlds in the Inner Sphere. Most of the worlds were barely a step away from being a failed periphery colony with their only value being Jumpship recharge points where help would eventually come by if you blew a helium seal. The planets often only held tiny populations of peoples with no other option but ‘survive or die’.
This was figuratively the ass end of the Inner Sphere … that everyone crapped on.
One exception seemed to stand out though. The ‘Aurigan Reach’ region which seemed to be a large microstate, but one in the middle of a civil war … damn it, why did that sound so familiar?
But even as I started to dig deeper into it, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the vid had switched to what seemed to be a shot of the Throne room and after a glance at the clock showed it was almost twelve fifty, I closed down the terminal and reached for the phone. Guest services were as efficient as before and at twelve fifty five a bottle of champagne and a very generous bowl of popcorn had arrived. And now properly equipped, I kicked the sound back on to listen to the talking heads as they speculated wildly for the remaining minutes until the Archon was due to appear.
Unsurprisingly given the lack of any ‘official leaks’ (Katrina was clearly holding her cards close they noted), most of the attention was on the two Griffins standing on either side of the Archons Throne and the message they were sending. Which was that instead of wearing the normal gold and blue of the Royal Guards Regiment, they had been repainted into the distinctive dress colours of the Kell Hounds and Davion Guards.
As the experts pointed out, it was far from unprecedented for the Griffins in question to be temporarily painted in the colours of another Commonwealth unit or even Merc unit under contract. It was considered one of the greatest tributes that could be paid by the Archon of the Commonwealth to a unit that had distinguished itself on the field of battle...
But for one of them to be repainted in the colours of the bodyguard unit of the First Prince of the Federated Suns?
One of the talking heads, an older one and apparently the appointed ‘Conservative/Traditionalist’ strawman was sputtering in shock and disapproval at such a ‘sacrilege’. Ranting about the tradition and horror of the Throne, bla bla bla.
One of the other talking heads though, who actually seemed to have his head screwed on straight and had the moral authority of being a former NCO in the Royal Guards, pointed out the obvious. Saying flatly that Katrina Steiner was a Mechwarrior who would never insult the LCAF and a politician of great skill - which meant she had a very good reason for this choice of paint.
That shut the old fart up and I toasted the old soldier with a tip of my champagne flute.
The shows host smoothly stepped into the slightly tense moment to take note another thing; pointing out that there were two podiums sitting in front of the Archons throne. Meaning she was going to share the stage with someone. Opinion quickly seemed split between the CO of the Davion Guards regiment or Patrick Kell and I couldn’t help but chuckle in a slightly sinister fashion as they went back and forth about which of the ‘two’ it was going to be.
Boy were they going to get a surprise … right about … now!
A deep bell, almost so deep it sounded like a gong, rang and shimmered through the air of the throne room at exactly 1PM. Vibrating through the air of the Throne Room, it silenced the general hub hub into a respectful yet tension filled air of anticipation as everyone turned to face the Throne as a man in full court regalia whom subtitles helpfully identified as Franklin Hecht, Minister of Protocol (that was a thing apparently) moved to stand in front of the throne.
“The Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth!” he called loudly, his words captured by some microphone to come across cleanly. And with that the crowd of thousands of people stood and bowed as Katrina Steiner emerged from behind the throne to curve past it … then a collective choked gasp come from the crowd as they came back up and saw that a precise half second later, coming around the other side of the Throne, was a man they had not expected.
And judging from the sudden jerked zoom in on him that wasn’t exactly smooth, neither was the cameraman or his producer.
Surprise right up until the last moment, it seemed, had been achieved and I grabbed a handful of popcorn with a grin as a non-G rated profanity slipped out on someone’s hot mic.
“The First Prince of the Federated Suns!” Hecht added to drive the point home to the stunned Royal Court as the two rulers reformed and walked the last few steps side by side to the lectern looking exactly as grand, powerful and confident as you would expect.
House Lords Twin Powers Activate! Form of; A Press Conference!
Katrina welcomed everyone, then without further ado asked (commanded and obeyed) them to sit as she announced that she and Hanse would now brief them on the recent events leading up to his surprise presence on Tharkad, the audience looking absolutely rapt in attention with the press in the front rows frantically writing notes on notepads and noteputers as Hanse gave his famous smile and started to talk.
This had all started, according to The Fox, with MIIO coming into some startling intelligence from ‘A Few Good Men’™ in the Combine. Specifically, reports that a highly ranked noble was planning to raid the Free Worlds League world of Helm. Somehow this noble (and I had no doubt MIIO and DMI were busy laying a trail for the ISF to follow right to the Red Dukes front door) had found clues to suggest the legendary SLDF depot had not been taken by Kerensky as thought, simply moved, hidden and then lost in the chaos of the Succession Wars. A frantic exchange of messages with LIC had turned up twist; LIC had also just heard some nobles on Irian of all places were also looking into Helm and the ancient cache with their own clues.
Katrina then took a moment to hang a lantern on the obvious; it was highly suspicious that both powers had suddenly came onto this information at the same time, even if the Suns and Commonwealth had not yet discovered a connection between the two. She left it at that, but I was sure even that would be enough to have A) the Kapteyn powers glaring suspiciously at each other and B) ComStar looking suspiciously at itself.
Hopefully involving Precentor Rachan finding himself in a dark room with his balls hooked up to jumper cables as ROM vented ComStars fury that he might have caused this disaster.
Couldn’t happen to a more deserving bastard really.
I could also live rather easily with the heat no doubt about to come down on Duke Ricol. As I recalled, his little operation had been run without the knowledge or approval of either Takashi or Theodore or his Warlord, which meant he had sinned. Twice.
Firstly, he had been preparing for a raid into an allied state. The Concord of Kapteyn might be a bit of a joke, but it was still Kurita policy and would have been a huge loss of face for House Kurita if, as Hanse and Katrina were insinuating, the Red Duke was preparing to invade their ally and seize a priceless storehouse.
Yet, far worse as far as House Kurita was concerned, there was the question of exactly what he was planning to do with a massive storehouse of Star League military gear he wasn’t telling his Liege, Lieges Heir or Warlord he was going to get. And in that situation, House Kurita would 8 times out of 10 conclude that he had been planning to use it against them - and hardly without precedent.
Accordingly, I gave it 50/50 odds that the Red Duke would be invited to ‘use the garden’ within the next six months, if the ISF followed the trail back to him and jumped to the ‘correct’ conclusions. And good riddance to Black Dragon rubbish.
Amusing, that the Kurita’s would owe MIIO and LIC one for getting rid of a long term threat for them...
Anyway, Hanse continued the story that after LIC and MIIO had put their heads together, they realized they each had pieces of the puzzle and putting it all together, had very good information on the possible location of the cache. Adding, with that famous grin, that while it would have been amusing to see the Concord of Kapteyn fighting it out over the cache, he had forgotten to do his Christmas shopping, so...
That earned an actual ripple of laughter from the crowd and I too raised a salute with my wine glass, shaking my head with a smile. It was amazing really, the two of them were laying out a perfectly viable story that I actually believed watching it, even if I know it was complete bullshit. If anything it came off as them simply wanting to gloat and rub it into the other nations that they had given up the cache and the FedCom powers had then swiped it out from under them!
And the best part? There was more than enough truth in the key parts that when the ISF, SAFE and ROM did their digging into it, they would hit the paydirt and ‘prove’ it! Really the only thing more that was needed for this to - ah there we go; Katrina just casually dropped a reminder of the Minoru Kurita’s original blasting of Helm for no other reason than being a giant crybaby because he couldn’t find the cache, where as ‘our’ people got in and out and donated a brand new hospital in their wake, with her and Hanse Davion’s complements!
I mean, everyone in the Succession Wars unleashed hell on each other of course, but most of the time it was at least nominally hell targeted at military and industrial targets, with civilians simply collateral damage. Not blasting an entire planet into a smoking cinder because you looked like an idiot in front of your troops for going on a wild goose chase!
Well, most of the time anyway.
And as for the Free Worlds Leagues internal fun? Katrina yesterday had hinted that LIC was already planting suggestions to point SAFE right to Lord Garth, Duke of Irian who wanted the cache to build an army to overthrow the Captain General.
Which was of course, absolutely true. And true 9.99 times out of 10 in the FWL.
And if that knowledge just so happened to cause a spat between Irian, Stewart and Atreus...well, that would just cap off this little operation, wouldn’t it..
The dynamic duo gave limited details about the actual mission to Helm. Noting mostly that it had been all done in haste with the Davion Guards and Kell Hounds sent purely due to being in the strategic neighborhood as it were, adding not quite smugly that it was an excellent sign of how well the Suns and Commonwealth could work together ‘on the fly’ as it were. A military briefing would be following this one and so they would leave such questions to the officers following, but they did round out their conference by Hanse noting that the Archon had very graciously invited him and a few close friends to spend Christmas day with her family - which he had of course accepted.
And with that done the Archon had asked the still furiously writing press in the front rows if there were any questions before they turned the stage over to the military briefing team, who would go into more details about the operation on Helm and covering raids on the border?
A forest of arms shot into the sky so fast I expected sprained shoulder blades to be a thing among the press corps tomorrow.
-
***
******
***
Knock Knock Knock.
The knock on the door came just after seven thirty PM and I glanced up from the book I was reading in no small amount of surprise. There was one hell of a shindig going on across in the Royal Court right now and anyone who might have any interest in me was down there tonight while I brooded in my room, reading an unclassified intelligence briefing about the Arano Restoration the palace had arranged for me at my request.
Seriously, I could really get used to having a hoard of people on hand ready to do your bidding on demand.
The report had finally clicked with me that this region of the Inner Sphere had been the setting for the Battletech video game Kickstarter back home. Even if I could barely remember anything about it beyond the cool concept art and how awesome the backer jacket was … that I would never get.
On the other hand I was, you know, staying in Katrina Steiners palace on Tharkad … so I don’t think the people I had left behind who had jackets were really getting more than I was.
Still, it was a bit weird the more I thought about it. A video game still under development when I departed … was playing out in front of me in the Periphery. I mean ******, was one of these people I was reading about supposed to, from a meta ‘player character’ point, me?!
Mind. Blown. Hey, new thought; I wonder if I could meet Jason Youngblood at some point...
Such mental conundrums were excellent distraction for me, keeping me from thinking too much about what day it was. Christmas Eve celebrations were in full force across the capitol, having reached a peak in a massive carols by candlelight extravaganza in the Triad District. That would last for a few hours, with a ‘who's who’ of the Commonwealths singers lining up to sing songs, broadcast around the planet. The Archon had made a brief appearance at the start to set things off, but otherwise left it to the celebrities to carry this celebration from evening into night. All very touching ... and all hitting me where I really didn’t want to be hit.
It didn’t help that everywhere I had looked outside my room it was Christmas Christmas Christmas and so rather than explore the palace or anything I had, after Katrina and Hanse’s conference wound up, found as many things as possible to distract me. Distantly hoping perhaps that I could chain enough things together through the night to forget.
It had proven a little harder than I thought, as crazy as it sounded for me to distract myself being in the Battletech universe, a room (even a luxurious one like this) was still somewhat limited in what you could do with it.
And after the Carrols finished and darkness started to fall, the commoners had moved onward to enjoy the final night of Christmas displays through the District before they were taken down for the New Year's Eve work to start. The nobility however, were otherwise occupied as Katrina was hosting the annual Christmas Eve soiree in the Royal Court; an event considered much more ‘casual’ and ‘informal’ than the massive New Years Eve ball scheduled for a week from now. It also held a focus on the local nobility and invited VIPs from Tharkad itself rather than the power-players from across the Commonwealth - at least in theory.
The presence of Hanse Davion as the Guest of Honor had, unsurprisingly, thrown that ideal out the airlock with anyone who was anyone desperately gate crashing to rub shoulders with two House Lords, something that didn’t exactly often since the Star League had crashed and burned.
And yet, it was still all wrapped up in Christmas. Thus, I just didn’t want anything to do with it. Locked up in this room, I could just pretend it wasn’t Christmas Eve. And pretend that somewhere in the multiverse, the ‘real’ me and all my family were not gathering for the now traditional ‘watch the next generation go hyperactive as they leapt for the presents and ripped them open’ ceremonies...
But back to the here and now, with Ardan Sortek, Patrick Kell, Marshal Felnser, Dan Allard and his Father all down at the Archons shindig … it kinda begged the question of who the hell was knocking on my door?
Knock Knock Knock!
Shrugging and deciding that the knocks implied they wouldn’t accept me ignoring them, I rolled off the bed and made my way to the door, having a very brief look in a mirror next to it to make sure I was at least presentable before opening the door.
And doing a double take as I found a teenager, dressed impeccably in what I had come to know as ‘Formal Event Court Dress’, standing outside my door with a quartet of suits who screamed ‘bodyguards’ behind her-
“May I come in Mister Smith?” she asked and, without waiting for an answer, she swished past me into the room with a rustle of her long dress, followed by two of her bodyguards, leaving me standing there staring into the corridor beyond like an idiot.
Okay ... so now this is happening.
“Sure, come right in …” I muttered to the empty corridor before shaking it off and turning to follow my unexpected guest as she moved into the lounge room, making herself at home as her bodyguards did a perfunctory sweep before nodding to her and heading back out. Leaving me alone with her as I very slowly sat down on the chair next to her trying to get my bearings at this unexpected guest.
Melissa Arthur Steiner.
The only child of Katrina Steiner and Arthur Luvon. Archon Designate of the Lyran Commonwealth and, known only to a very select group, the fiancé of Hanse Davion … was sitting in my room across from me.
Okay, what the ******?
“Shouldn’t you be across in the Royal Court, Lady Steiner?” I asked aloud, carefully, as the silence became deafening after five or six seconds.
“I did my work on the receiving line earlier” she shrugged easily, kicking off her heels and sighing -in full view of me- as she wiggled her stocking covered toes, making a content noise … and completely ignoring my incredulous stare at her incredibly casual behavior.
I had never met her - never seen her before in fact - and here she was, bounding into my room and acting like this?
… once again. The ******?!
“People are used to me dodging in and out of these events and, frankly, Hanse is drawing by far most of the attention this evening so it was surprisingly easy to slip out for a while” she continued as she put her feet back down, smoothing out her dress carefully, yet I got the impression her casual air was just that, a act she was putting on for my benefit.
Okay Princess, you want nonchalant snark? Lets do nonchalant snark I thought as I managed to regain some sense of balance and decided to lightly test the waters.
“So … you’re on a first name basis with Prince Davion now?” I returned fire and was pleased to see it knock her back slightly, a flush passing across her face for a moment.
After all, I had no idea if she was ‘in’ on the-
“Jordan Weisman”
And boom, headshot! There is still something fourth wall mind breaking about Melissa ****** Steiner saying that name...
“Well, that's direct enough” I muttered, abandoning my snark as I both relaxed and tensed up, while Melissa's expression became almost impish. That name was the current codeword for the compartment about me, meaning perhaps unsurprisingly, she had been briefed by Hanse and Quintus and her use of it meant I was free to talk. “I hope both your mother and fiancé are aware you are here with me, My Lady?”
“Call me Melissa” she insisted as she tilted her head slightly. “And of course, but why do you ask?”
“Call me John” I returned the gesture before glancing down at the table we were sitting around and stuff all over it. “And it’s just a question of context. If, for example, either of them were to hear that you had walked into some mans room alone, unchaperoned with alcohol present and left your bodyguards left behind, well...” I shrugged, extending my glance to the outer wall of the room with only slightly exaggerated suspicion. “Then the only question would be if the fist about to break through that wall is going to be attached to a Battlemaster or a Zeus”.
The younger (as in near half my age) woman actually giggled lightly at that one as I continued to patiently watch the far wall … with some part of me not entirely joking here...
“Relax John” she shook her head with a smile. “They know I came here specifically to talk to you”.
“Okay…” I blinked, leaning back into the chair and trying to relax as I asked the obvious. “Um, why?”
She seemed to consider that for a few moments before seeming to sigh and not quite slump forward.
“You know, don’t you John, that until Hanse turned up here last week I had only ever met him once before?”
Well duh, it was kinda a huge plot point driving much of ‘Warrior: En-Garde’. Involving you indirectly putting a large number of people at risk and getting a chunk of others killed pulling your ass out of the fire I thought silently.
“Yes, on Terra, during the FedCom treaty signing” was all I said out loud, chiding myself after a moment for judging Melissa that harshly. Frankly, more blame needed to rest on her mother for not taking a hell of a lot more care organizing the trip with appropriate precautions.
“When I was only twelve” she confirmed. “He was very nice to me, didn’t talk down to me and the whole thing was all sort of fairy tale and romantic” she said with a distant sort of smile on her face as she seemed to drift back to that momentous meeting. “I don’t think I really understood the sphere shattering consequences of that agreement then - not sure I even really understand it now. I was going to marry a man I had barely met and start an entire new dynasty that was going to change the history of the Inner Sphere. All these expectations on both of us and I had so little to go on about him, how we would make this actually work…”
I didn't offer any response as none seemed called for, simply waiting silently as she took a breath and continued, bringing her attention back.
“We sent messages back and forth and Ardan, bless him, told me so much about him when he was on Tharkad. All the private and secret things about a person you never find in the vids. And Mother did what she could … but this was still a man I was going to marry; a man I felt I barely even knew. Worse, only a handful of people actually knew it, meaning I had to deal with all the young men trying to court me and win my hand without giving the truth away”.
“For what it’s worth...” I said slowly as I tried to frame my thoughts in a way that wouldn’t sound insulting or condescending, “your marriage to Hanse Davion, from ‘my’ side of the fence’, noted those difficulties. The role you had to play, what was expected of you” I said causing Melissa to look up to me with an expression I couldn’t place, wordlessly encouraging me to continue. “I mean, Hanse Davion was the designated hero of the setting and the only House Lord to not talk about marriage with you as a prerequisite for any kind of peace ... yet he and your mother decided to try for it. Which left you, well …”
“Being sold off to a man two and a half times my age with enormous peer pressure -for the best of intentions of course - to make it work regardless of my own wishes on the matter?” Melissa asked with a sort of sad smile that struck my heart.
“Essentially? Yes” I replied with a sympathetic smile back … and instantly found out that was the wrong answer.
Oww!
What the… did … did she just kick-
Ouch!
Yes she did - damnit! She just did it again!
“So you’re why Hanse was going out of his way to tell me that I didn’t have to go through with the marriage” she accused me darkly as I rapidly slid down the lounge out of range, her glare tracking me and instantly making me regret said lounge wasn’t longer as I crashed into the armrest while she stood up, the goofy teenager nowhere to be seen and in her place nothing less than her mother's daughter.
Heimdall! Save me! Crazy Archon at twelve o’clock!
“We spent quite a bit of time together over the last few days, the first two or three hours of which I had to spend convincing he and my Mother that I really did want to get married to him. Hanse seems to have gotten the impression from someone” she grated with a look that could have critted a Dire Wolf, “that I might not want to get married to him!”
Her glare seemed to double in intensity.
“You seemed determined to ruin my wedding plans Mister Smith...” she said, her tone deepening ominously.
“For the record” I defended myself, words spilling out quickly as the clearly pissed off young woman stepped around the table to glare down at me, fighting to keep some composure as I found a way to return her gaze, “it all just came out of a conversation with Ardan Sortek noting that hypothetically if you trusted Morgan Hasek-Davion’s loyalty, a match between the two formal heirs, you and he, would purely from a public sense make sense if …” and I let my rambling trail off as I saw her face was twitching.
Then the moment shattered
The cold Steiner winter promising death by frostbite vanished in an instant as she burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands as she was wracked with mirth. I stared dumbfounded as she flopped back down to the lounge next to me … and I realized she had just trolled the hell out of me.
Melissa Steiner had just trolled the hell out of me.
Okay, I admit it, did not see that one coming.
“You’re screwing with me” I deadpanned and her ear to ear grin answered that question as I leaned back into the soft leather, closing my eyes and feeling my heart pounding in my chest. I gave thanks for the fact that my cardiovascular system was apparently in excellent shape according to the geeks at NAIS because honestly, I felt my stress levels were ramping blood pressure right up every time a Steiner decided to talk to me here.
I opened my eyes again with some of my composure back, Melissa also having calmed down to be regarding me in a composed manner, if with a bit of a smile on her face.
“I was. Mostly. But I … well …” she trailed off before taking a deep breath and meeting my gaze squarely. “I’m here mostly because I wanted to thank you, John. It meant a lot to me that you were willing to challenge Hanse on my agency in Federated Commonwealth accords” she explained as she gathered her impressive and no doubt incredibly expensive dress to sit down carefully next to me - and I’ll admit I felt my face flush slightly at the sheer sincerity in her bearing before her expression shifted once again as she turned away to look off into the distance, her body language turning almost …vulnerable?
If nothing else it was the first time since she barged in that she actually looked to to be sixteen going on seventeen as she brought her hands together, clasping them tightly as if to steady herself. “Thanks to your little trip to Helm, Hanse and I had the opportunity to get together and talk. A lot” she mused with a bit of a faint smile. “But only after he gave me the copies of your ‘Battletech’ books to read and a day to take it all in”.
“That must have been … something” I noted with sympathy and hidden shame - marveling that she was able to face me like this knowing full well that I had, after a fashion, invaded her most personal and private thoughts. “When Ardan Sortek, Quintus Allard and Prince Davion read just the first book I sent them as my, for lack of a better word, bonafides … well, Ardan told me later he went for the nearest bottle without even bothering to read the label”.
“Mother had a similar sort of reaction” she agreed, her smile turning somewhat wry as her gaze came back to me. “Hanse insisted I read them -and some of your notes- before we talked. Saying that as they had let him see inside so much of my mind, I damn well deserved to see inside his before we talked about the future. And after that, well, looking into the face of a person who had seen deeper into me than I would ever let alone … and looking into his eyes and seeing behind ‘The Fox’ to the man I had read behind the legend? I don’t think I can quite describe what that was like. But then, just like that, we started talking. And talking and talking more and more about anything and everything. All of my masks, denials and excuses gone until suddenly it just hit me …” she trailed off, her gaze elevating to the roof for a moment … then back down to me … and I felt I would be lucky to get off with third degree burns from the fire blazing in her eyes now.
“It hit me right then, right there that I wanted to take Hanse Davion’s hand, seize history by the throat and face down all the problems you warned us about and take up the challenge in front of me. To make things turn out better for everyone this time around” she said in a tone that left not even a Heisenberg Uncertainty worth of doubt that she meant what she said.
Then she paused and her expression took on more than a tinge of exasperation.
“And then, in that moment as everything was so clear, Hanse told me he would never force me into anything I didn’t want and he would absolutely and fully support me and Morgan-Hasek Davion if I wanted to look towards a union of the Realms in that manner” she deadpanned before expelling air in a huff that said ‘Men!’ without needing to actually say it.
“I take it you, uh, let him know how that proposal made you feel?” I felt very carefully, trying to avoid the glower being redirected at me.
Instead, at my question it faded away back to a smile. A happy, girly almost giddy smile as she shook her head, her eyes dancing.
“That’s the thing John … I didn’t need to” she said in wonder. “I didn’t need to say a thing. I just stared into his eyes and he stared into mine. It must have been good, I don’t know, twenty seconds? Maybe a minute? We didn’t say a word, not one word - even my Mother kept absolutely silent, just watching us. But I knew that I wanted this … and I knew that he knew I did. And then” she said, her smile growing and the young woman seeming to almost want to burst, “he kept looking straight as me as he slid the chair back, came around the side of the table, got down on one knee in front of me and, well …” she trailed off as her hands untangled and she lifted her left hand up to show off -
“Jesus H Christ, look at the size of that rock!” I spluttered in unabashed awe at the diamond sitting in pride of place on a golden band on her left ring finger.
I mean holy crap it was huge, a diamond worthy of a Lyran Princess I suppose. Somehow capturing the rooms light, sucking it in and expelling it in a rainbow halo around her hand in an refraction effect I had never seen before ...
Clearly, the Neo-Feudal nobility of the Inner Sphere had not let advanced jewelry fabrication technology fall into Lostech if they could make that!
“So, uh, did you say yes?”
Kick.
I’m totally gonna have a bruise there tomorrow for sure. But even so, this time the kick was more playful, the sheer happiness on Melissa’s face … well, it just seemed to burn away my ‘Bah Humbug!’ attitude of the night with a terrifying ease, speaking casually to the adoration this woman had earned across the Federated Commonwealth over her life in the Battletech universe.
And very clearly, one who was more than capable of standing up for herself and determined enough to get what she wanted.
“Melissa, I’m happy for you - both of you. Congratulations” I said after I found my voice, knowing that sure the marriage was already long arranged, but technically Hanse had only just proposed and she had only just accepted ... so it felt appropriate to say as much.
It was confirmed as the right choice second later as she beamed at me with a smile that I reckoned had a fifty-fifty chance of bringing a dead puppy back to life.
“Thank you John” she said simply before her smile turned slightly mischievous. “And thus, you join the conspiracy”.
“... Which one? I seem to have become entangled in several since I materialized in this universe” I pointed out with a confused blink and she rolled her eyes as if it was obvious.
“My Fiance and I are having a very exclusive engagement party tonight!” she explained. “And you’re invited!”
“Uh, aren't you both at the whole Christmas shindig thing tonight?” I noted. “And isn’t the engagement an absolute state secret of the same order as me?
“Yupppp!” she agreed with a grin and hard ‘P’. “But what only I, Mother, Ardan, Patrick, Hanse and now you know is that, in reality, this Christmas party is actually a celebration for our engagement cunningly disguised as a Christmas party to avoid attention!”.
The claim was so absurdly crazy and delivered with such a straight face that I couldn’t help but laugh and reach up to facepalm, shaking my head.
“And besides” she added, her voice softening and lowering in volume, “no-one should be alone on Christmas Eve if they have people who want them around, no matter how much they might think they want to be alone” she said in a tone that caused me to sharply glance up in a reflexive defensiveness … that smashed straight into the full force of that ‘Melissa Steiner 8D6+10 charisma gaze’ and promptly put up the white flag.
“Didn’t take you that long to psychoanalyze me down to the core” I muttered in what tried to be a miffed tone but honestly, came out as more embarrassed than anything, feeling like I was a child sulking in my room … being called out on it.
By a teenager. Half my age.
“Actually it was Ardan Sortek” she corrected me, as she carefully but with a distantly regretful expression carefully removed her incredible engagement ring and placed it into a velvet pouch. “He was, frankly, worried about you being alone this Christmas and, well, so was everyone else who knows you’re here”.
“I don’t think exposing me to the Royal Court is exactly a subtle-”
“John” her exasperation cut me off like a switch had been thrown, her eyes rolling in a gloriously dramatic way, “there are thousands of people packed into the court and about half of them are assorted -if you’ll please forgive me such a horrible word- ‘commoners’. You’ll be perfectly anonymous. Besides” she said, her smile turning into a smirk, “my Mother is expecting you in” she checked a watch on her wrist that probably cost as much as a Locust from all the bling I could see on it - “twenty minutes at my extremely exclusive celebration of my engagement and if you don’t show up...”
Melissa Steiner Rolls Intimidation Check; 6,6,6,6,6,6,6,6 + 10 = 58, against John; 1, 1, 1 + 2 = 5;
Melissa Steiner critical success!
“Okay, okay!” I held up my hands in surrender, finding myself on my feet without even realizing I had stood.
Man, was the thought of Katrina Steiner getting pissed at me that much of a intimidating threat?
…
Yes. Yes it was.
But at the same time, deep down where I would deny it, there was something that made me almost want to start crying for the fact that some of the most powerful people in the Inner Sphere … well; they cared enough to want to drag me out of my sulking room to celebrate Christmas Eve with them under this silly pretense of an engagement party.
I had to turn for a second, hastily clearly my throat until I controlled my composure that had started to slip at that, Melissa in turn very tactfully busying herself in carefully putting her engagement ring away into a cunningly hidden pocket in her dress, charmingly right over her heart.
“Good” she said when I turned back and with that, the Archon designate carefully slipped her elegant heels back on and swished back to her feet, striding confidently across the room to the walk in closet as I slowly gathered myself and followed.
She dove inside without hesitation, emerging scant seconds later with what seemed to be the 31st century equivalent of a tuxedo, placing it onto several convenient hooks before turning to give me a pointedly commanding look.
“Nineteen minutes, ten seconds - don’t be late” she said with a charming yet commanding superior smile before turning to vanish down the hall with a smile.
I heard the door open, close, then I was alone.
Brat I dared to think in my head as I took a breath, centered myself and started to get dressed.
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Nicely done, and great to see more!
In what condition is Book 2 - scattered files on your phone? ;)
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Very nicely done!
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Great update. I laughed as I read about Melissa kicking him every time he said the wrong thing. ;D :beer:
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Absolutely wonderful :) A brilliant, well written, endearing and very amusing pair of updates :D
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Holy crap! Love want more must have more!
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This has been quite the enjoyable read. The SI is not an overpowered gary-stu showing both consternation and caution over whether to interfere, how far to go, and what changes could mean. You have a nice touch when it comes to adding details and characterization and also keep a nice flow to your plot so that even jumps in time feel fluid. I will definitely keep an eye on this particular story.
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Awesomesauce. Loved your portrayal of Melissa. She's always been one of my favourite BT personalities and you gave her a lot of character. Well written, enjoyable to read, and I am eagerly awaiting the next installment.
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I love the updates and Missy is quiet fun to read after kicking the crap out of our hero and and then dragging him out and about. That was funny with her getting him to open up and the thoughts from her about her and Hanse talking and really getting to know each other well before cannon is nice.
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So one final update to finally close out this book.
It's going to be politically heavy, so if you want hot mech on mech action, uh ... sorry!
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Chapter 10: Tweedledee and Tweedledum - or just dumb and dumber?
I had never put on a Tux in my life … and now I had been given a deadline to get into one and wear it walking into a ****** Neo-Feudal Royal Court-
No, no no! Bad word.
Mental note, NEVER use ‘deadline’ in a sentence in anything related to a command from Katrina Steiner.
Still, I was able to put on the unfamiliar suit quicker than I anticipated, taking a moment to admire myself in the full length mirror built into the walk-in closets door. The white shirt was excellent quality if relatively plain, but a Steiner-Blue cummerbund added a neat little splash of color, as did the polished brass buttons on the jacket.
Of course, if the specific shade of blue identified me in some fashion with House Steiner…
Well in either case … I decided I looked awesome if I did say so myself, as I slipped on the jacket after fussing the bow-tie into place.
“Bond … James Bond” I tried in my best faux Connery, before my reflection gave me a ‘seriously?’ look at how bad that was.
Very glad no-one had seen that, I turned away and headed for the door. A second after closing the door behind me, I realized I didn’t have the first clue how I would get to the Throne Room, let alone get admission to it without an invitation - or Morgan Kell’s note.
Shrugging after a moment, I made for the nearby elevators that would take me down to the lower floor entrances, reasoning that if the powers that be were expecting me…
My assumption proved accurate when I found a man waiting by said elevator who clicked his heels together, greeted me as ‘Herr Smith’ and informed me he would be delighted to escort me to the Yule Festival.
Seriously, my skepticism and misgivings around these neo-feudal systems aside, I have to admit that having hot and cold running servants desperate to throw themselves over the smallest puddles in the road rather than let your feet get wet … well, it was kinda addictive.
We entered the elevator and said servant took out a key on a chain attached to his belt, inserted and twisted it … and that caused a small recess to pop out above the level buttons. He promptly leaned in to it and - oh, it was a retinal scanner? Pretty high-tech for 3026 Battletech, but then this was The Triad. A quick scan latter several additional buttons on the control panel lit up and he hit the one labeled ‘B7’. The elevator car dropped swiftly past ground, heading towards what I presumed was a vehicle bay for a quick drive over through the winter air. But instead of opening on a garage, the doors opened on - holy shit, I just walked into Versailles.
I mean, I had never actually been to Versailles, back on Earth. It had been one of those ‘bucket list’ things I always wanted to do in life when I finally got over to Europe. The grandeur and glory of the French nobility at its height maintained carefully through the French Revolution and two World Wars to the present day.
Come to think of it, I suppose that the vast majority of my ‘bucket list’ would forever be denied to me now, I rather doubted Disneyland still stood after all. But after this?
Yeah, I could probably defacto tick ‘Versailles Hall of Mirrors’ off that list now. And then some.
This, according to my guide who ushered me out and started walking me along the gently curving passage at a quite brisk pace, was the Private Corridor for the Steiner family to make their way to and from the Throne Room or Royal Court, a giant ring under the Triad.
And if this was a simple private service tunnel, I didn’t know what it said about the Steiner family … well, except perhaps ‘We have the money. ALL the money!!!’
The floor was a white marble threaded with veins of crimson, the centerline of which was covered in a Steiner Blue carpet. White too was the color of the walls, but it was offset with generous broad amounts of gold leaf paint. The vaulted ceiling above was painted with a continuous work of art that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the roof of the Sistine Chapel by my reckoning and perhaps most strikingly, the outer wall was one giant and continuous strip of a flawless mirror, interrupted only by the occasional door.
Just … wow.
My escort was also perfectly happy to play tour guide as we moved briskly along, pointing out some of the incredible treasures of the Steiner family, set in small alcoves or mounted on the inner side of the passage. Items of such value and historical significance that I had to stop my jaw dropping open as they were pointed out one after the other.
I mean, I just walked past the framed handwritten letters sent back and forth between Tracial Steiner and Ian Cameron, negotiating the joining of the Lyran Commonwealth with the Star League! Hanging in a glorified private tunnel and simply waved away as if it was nothing by my guide!
Was it that after so many centuries, the Steiners had picked up so much stuff that even something like that wasn’t worthy of ‘front row’ seats upstairs? Or was this a message from the Steiners of the past to the Steiners of the present? Reminding them of their families position and pride and accomplishments or some bullshit like that as they walked to the ‘business’ part of The Triad?
Whatever the case, I can say without a doubt that the purpose of the passage was to overawe me, it gave it a very good shot.
But it wasn’t the last time tonight I would be left stunned.
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I of course had a general sort of idea about what the Lyran Throne room looked like. My memories of Battletech didn’t include any canon illustrations, but I had seen it on the Vid today, even if the focus had been pretty tightly on the Throne and area around it.
A little chatting with my guide explained to me that the Throne Room where this ‘invitational’ was taking place as opposed to the Ball Rooms in the Royal Court, was a large floor space flanked by two extended wings. The top of said wings were tiered seating, like a stadium, providing public seating for major court events to view the going ons on the floor of the Royal Court where the nobles and VIPs fussed. And under the raised seating were two lowered levels of comparable floor space, with gentle flights of stairs linking them to the main floor. Generally closed off day to day, but fully opened up tonight to provide maximum floor space and it was into the Eastern one of those I entered.
My entrance was unheralded through a service door into the wing, slipped in with a bunch of servants carrying drinks whose casual screening of me and dispersion into the crowd suggested quietly slipping people into the Royal Court without notice was a major part of their job. And thus finally alone and left to my own devices, I casually sort of started to look around, taking the measure of tonight’ dignitaries as I did.
…
Seriously, did I just walk onto the set of The Hunger Games?
Not kidding; the guests around me looked like they could have just walked out of one of President Snow’s Capital parties, with a riot of outlandish and exotic outfits and colors and hairstyles and makeup which I think were supposed to represent regional fashions? It was like the MTV music awards meets Tribeca Film Festival in its own way and it in a moment made me extremely aware how out of place I was.
Not because of my clothes per se - there were plenty of men wearing very similar styles mind you so I fit right in in that sense. Rather, it was the fact that I was brutally reminded I was a 21st century middle class professional walking into the Throne Room of a 31st century feudal power filled with nobles, one encompassing hundreds of star systems and hundreds of billions of people.
For all my knowledge about this universe, knowledge that included things that had driven Ardan Sortek (for about five minutes) to drink, stunned Quintus Allard and actually left Hanse Davion speechless … I was a complete and utter noob in this space. The million and one social cues and royal protocols the people around me were taught from day one, no-one had ever seemed to see the need to tell me. Even on New Avalon I had actually been pretty isolated in the palace, working with professional intelligence and military personnel with next to no exposure to the Royal Court itself.
But this?
Dealing with Hanse and Katrina (despite the fact that they were kind of the ultimate expression of this entire system) was actually straight forward enough. They were professionals, I was professional. They knew exactly who and what I was, we all wanted the same thing and we were working towards the same goal.
But dealing with the nobility at court? Was this really something I could do?
…
As a matter of fact, yes. Yes it was.
I surprised myself by quashing my first instinct to freeze or find a very dark corner to hide in and try not to be noticed, chiding myself for the self-pity as I thought back to Melissa’s brief conversation with me. About how my actions had impacted her.
It was one thing to dump my load of knowledge and reality on Katrina and Hanse. Hanse, Katrina, Ardan, Quintus; they were all titans of Battletech in 3025. Experienced elites in their fields of expertise, confident in themselves, skilled and hardened by war and politics for a long time. My revelations and presence had cleared shocked them all, but they had adapted, taking my disruptions in stride and shaping them to their advantage. But while I was bouncing my way through Hyperspace from Helm, Melissa - a sixteen year old – had lost any privacy over and confronted directly about the doubts and second guessing going on in her head that had hounded her through the ‘Warrior Trilogy’.
Directly and bluntly.
Not to mention all the future actions. The people killed in the Silver Eagle incident alone due to her choices must have been one hell of a thing to confront for a teenager over. So while it seemed that she, her mother and Hanse had been forced to sit down and talk through all their issues in the open ... I felt that behind that enthusiastic kicking and fake glowering there was still an uncertain person coming to grips with the weight of the future I had placed onto her shoulders.
Sure, there was clearly a genuine desire and will to blaze a trail through history hand in hand with Hanse. Any idiot could see that. But there was also a growing understanding of the sheer mass of the expectations and consequences being thrust upon her.
And yet, despite all of that. Despite everything I had -unapologetically- dumped onto her through sheer necessity … Melissa Steiner had nonetheless taken time out to engage with me. The ‘Princess’, her Mother and the others ‘in the know’ of me had clearly decided it was unacceptable that I was lurking in my room and despite everything else they had to worry about; they had taken the time to send in the shock troops and beat me up until I came downstairs to join them.
Simply put; they had refused to let me spend Christmas Eve alone in my room.
So yes, I would put my best foot forward and not find a corner to hide in. If a sixteen year old kid could deal with everything I had thrusted onto her shoulders, then I could surely fumble my way through this.
And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, I might even enjoy myself!
This wing of the Throne Room seemed tonight to have been given over to where the food was served, a near continuous sort of table running along the length of it covered in food and attended by an army of servants constantly in motion. Countless stand up tables were scattered across the rest of this wings floor space with groups were clustered around the tables by the dozen, standing together and enjoying themselves with good food, good drink and good company. Large holovids mounted on the walls and from the ceiling were switching between various shots of the main floor and the mood was definitely festive. An almost unwilling smile came across my face as I picked out a brassy, upbeat instrumental of ‘Good King Wenceslas’ coming clearly through over the buzz of the conversation as I threaded my way through the crowds mulling around, exchanging nods with a surprisingly large number of people as I walked past -and even a couple of ‘Merry Christmas!’ greetings that made me increasingly suspicious that the Tux Melissa had picked out for me did somehow mark me as someone Katrina Steiner designated a personal guest.
Well either that or some of the people here had had a little too much to drink.
Or both.
Well, no point worrying about that now I thought as I approached the other side of the wing, which bordered the Throne Rooms main court. The main floor was about two meters above this one and dozens of sets of steps down the rooms length allowed easy access to and from it. Gaily (in the classical Christmas sense) decorated columns lined the boundary where the gap between floor and ceiling of this wing narrowed and, gloriously, it seemed each of said columns a servant posted there with a drinks tray. So I wound my way across and up the steps, returning polite nods and smiles from people before I swiped a flute of sparkling wine as I stepped out onto the floor of the Throne Room ‘proper’, glancing up idly as I came out from under the wings roof-
Holy. Shit.
I had never suffered from vertigo. But as my gaze locked with the massive ceiling above me, well, I couldn’t help but feel I was in immediate danger of ‘falling up’...
The roof of the Throne room was dominated by a massive dome in the center of it, one so large it took up perhaps half of the total roof area. Huge and impossible single panes of a transparent material letting in the night sky were held in an almost delicate looking web of …
No.
Seriously, no.
That couldn’t possibly be … solid gold?!
...
Could it?!
…
No, impossible I dismissed the thought as I forced my jaw to un-drop with a distinct click. It had to be a real structural material just … covered with a solid Gold layer on top.
On reflection, that still sounded ludicrous.
I broke my attention away from the roof to take in the wider room and found it just as stunning. The entire room was done up in an arctic theme. The great columns that lined the long room were draped with silvery cloth and everywhere I turned it looked like ice was artfully clinging to the walls and columns. I reached out to brush my hand against what by all means looked like ice and found it felt like glass or crystal, just shaped exquisitely to look like real pure ice. The floodlights in the vast hall had also seemingly been tuned to give a slightly blue tint to everything and directly under the dome in the middle of the floor was a frigen gigantic Christmas tree. I was sure that had not been there at the press conference, reaching easily five or six stories up and decorated in an artic theme of silver, blue and gold on top of its green leafs with what I hoped was fake snow lightly dusted over it.
I’d bet it was a real tree though, not a plastic fake or anything common like that!
Although I had to roll my eyes at the ****** Cameron Star on the top of it. Now there was an idea for chaos, have someone ask Hanse and Katrina together which of them was First Lord again?
No John. That’s a bad John!
“Bloody hell” I muttered out loud as I deliberately redirected my gaze up from the tree to the dome, once again reeling and shaking my head slowly, probably talking a bit too loudly given my exasperation, “are the Steiners genetically incapable of doing anything small?!”
A bark of laughter behind me at that comment told me I had been overheard and I winced for a moment as I planted my foot in my mouth.
I schooled my expression back though and turned to meet whoever it was … and was pleasantly surprised - and relieved - by the revelation of who it was.
The man behind me was wearing a Kell Hounds dress uniform. Red and black it was rather clever in its design; cut so that when the jacket was closed as it was now, it formed the distinctive head of the rather vicious looking canine that was the symbol of their unit, its ears reaching up onto his shoulders. The silver rank insignia of a captain - or Hauptmann in Lyran parlance - sat at his throat and far below his I could see he wore the Davion style spurs of a MechWarrior.
It was a very different idea of a formal uniform compared with my expectations of formal military dress from back home - or the classic style of the Great House militaries for that matter, but in the riot of colors and styles tonight in the Court tonight, seemed to fit right in - as did the man wearing it.
“Hauptmann Allard” I greeted the man with some surprise and pleasure - even as the inner cynic in me rejected the idea that Quintus Allards son had just so happened to meet me by accident as I walked out. Not that I objected mind you; having a wingman (or perhaps a Lancemate was the correct terminology) with me tonight would be very welcome. “A Merry Christmas to you” I extended my hand which he took firmly.
“And to you Mister Smith” he smiled back as he shook my hand. “And yes” he added, glancing around, “I think it’s something of a point of pride that the Throne Room of the Archon is by far the biggest in the Inner Sphere. Personally though, I think it might be a tad over the top”.
“It’s impressive none the less” I admitted, taking a sip of my Champaign. “Plenty of places for Katrina to pile up her paperwork” I noted with a glance around, recalling idly that The Bitch back in the lead up to splitting the Lyran side of the Commonwealth had sat in a chair next to Victors throne as his regent … and used it to store paperwork on, in a calculated insult of how little she thought of him.
“I suppose that’s true” Allard smiled amiably. “Although she’s rarely here. According to Colonel Kell, the Archon doesn’t use the Throne Room even a fraction as much as Alessandro Steiner used to”.
“That doesn’t surprise me” I agreed with a snort and I gestured at the distant chair off the questioning look. “Alessandro - especially towards the end - was probably so uncertain of his shrinking powerbase that he would feel the need to reinforce it quite blatantly by sitting on his Throne. Katrina on the other hand probably has far better things to do than waste time sitting on a chair for the cameras” I said and Allard grunted in agreement at that. “Of course” I allowed looking past the throne to the two titans protecting it, “this room does have some advantages. There are probably days in politics when it's good to have a pair of Donal PPCs at your back”.
“True” Dan laughed. “Although why they’ve persisted in keeping long range fire support machines in the position of close bodyguards inside a building ...” Allard shook his head, an air of professional exasperation coming over him that I thought was a rather valid point.
“Tradition I suppose?” I shrugged, trying to remember when the two massive war machines had been introduced. I think it was after one of the Archons got spooked by an assassination attempt – but even so it was a bit silly. I mean, in one sense it didn’t really matter; squishy humans vaporized just as easily inside the minimal focusing range of the PPC, but the LRM rack was hardly useful indoors. And God help them if a bored pilot accidently stretched out and kicked the jump jet pedals …
Although I’d admit that the image of a Griffin hanging stuck in ceiling with its head and shoulders sticking out of the roof and its legs wildly kicking in the air above Katrina, with her face palming far below as her courtiers ran around screaming in a panic…
Presently the not half bad rendition of ‘Good King Wenceslas’ came to an end and a polite rolling wave of applause washed through the crowd as I joined in automatically. Glancing around I finally noticed that up in the otherwise empty ‘stadium’ seating above us towards the front of the room, there was something of a compact orchestra worth of musicians with a choir in support (no pre-recorded music for the Archons party, no Sir!) who, after a moment, started a new song. The vocalists singing about something involving Jumpships and Christmas tidings?
Yeah, no idea about that one … but it had a catchy, jazzy sort of beat you could click your fingers to, so … not half bad?
“There are some very impressive Christmas displays setup at the front of the other wing that I think you might enjoy if you wanted to have a look?” Allard suggested and I gestured for him to lead the way as I fell into step with him, making small talk as we went that had absolutely nothing to do with Helm, noting the artwork on display along the midline of this half of the room the room as we approached and then rounded the massive Christmas tree, triggering an odd sense of dejavu…
-
One of my favorite missions back in the MechWarrior 2 games had to be ‘Warning Shot’. An exceptional example of level design and setting the atmosphere, it was one of the few missions in which the soundtrack was completely silent (if that was a bug it was truly the ‘art by accident’ principle in action) and set in a late dusk sort of light. Pirate hunting coreward of the FRR as reports of a mysterious silence spreading over the region started to come out...
I remembered my play through. Perfectly simple sweep and destroy it seemed, even with the scant intel. Insert, scout the region for the enemy airbase, blow it to bits and meet up with our dropship that would be landing to set up a temporary field base for the rest of the campaign.
The entire mission took place in the shadow of a massive mountain called the ‘devils peak’ as we slowly wound our way around it to find the enemy airbase on the far side. An enemy Catapult and Orion would power up along with a patrolling Panther if we hadn’t killed him yet. Without slowing down, my Lance had swept through them like a hot knife through butter, turning torsos to blast the buildings in passing. Objective; completed! And with that, it was time to walk to our dropships LZ … three klicks away. And so, naturally, my unease had built on my first playthrough as I continued to stomp forward in the harsh orange of thermal optics, the flank speed of Assault Mechs genuinely annoying because a sixth sense was telling me I needed to go faster! Correctly as it turned out because before I’d covered even a third of the distance to the LZ, two ‘UNKNOWN DROPSHIP’ contacts sweept across my path far ahead and a voice come over the radio.
‘Inner Sphere barbarians! Call your name, family and unit designation!’
That line prefaced the Clan Invasion crashing into the game and Inner Sphere; the entire game universe changing in that moment as a star of Omnimechs dropped and started blasting me from obscene weapons ranges, leaving me in the fight of my life.
That I won, naturally. AI aint no match for MW2 jump jet abuse even with Clantech!
Of course, in much later playthroughs it became much less a case of ‘skin crawling sensation as I feel that I’m in way over my head’ and more ‘glee as my Min-Maxing in the best traditions of Battletech resulted in a quartet of Arrow-IV missiles streaking past my Atlas to blow the lead Nova and Summoner into salvage, with gleeful taunts of ‘YOU GET AN ARROW! AND YOU GET AN ARROW! EVERYONE GETS ARROWS!’ delivered to their pixelated Trashborn faces.
And right here, right now, as I rounded the massive Christmas Tree looming like a green ‘Devils Peak’ above me, that exact same original skin-crawling sensation came back to me as two hostile contacts emerged from its shadow and cut with casual ease across and into our path. And for the first time since I had emerged into this universe I felt a stab of anxiety cut into me as I came face to face with people I would undeniably count as enemies of what I stood for - and who I stood by.
Well, one enemy and one … to be decided.
“Ah Captain Allard - a pleasure to see you this evening” Aldo Lestrade smiled broadly as he came to a precise halt in our path, forcing us to halt in turn - all very natural looking of course. “I must extend to you my complements at your unit’s remarkable success”.
“Thank you your Grace” Dan said politely - if he was on edge I didn’t know him enough to see it. “It was a team effort”.
“Of course” the leader of the official -and unofficial- parts of Free Skye continued as if the Captain hadn’t spoken, “I have to admit I was quite put out when I heard the Kell Hounds were being pulled off Chara from my people there, with no-one bothering to send me so much as a HPG message about it through channels. One of the best units in Skye simply vanishing without a trace was, I must admit, quite a worrying report to receive. Especially after” he added, with the briefest of glances at me, “we were lead to believe that the vaunted Davion Heavy Guard would be ‘lurking’ in the region to either attack into the Combine or stand ready to crush any raids made, which could have provoked Kuritan probes in turn” he frowned petulantly.
“The 6th Donegal had a reinforced Battalion on the ground of Chara within a fortnight of our departure” Allard pointed out tactfully, clearly used to these verbal games with nobles. “And as the Kell Hounds are actually under contract directly to the Archon” the MechWarrior added, “we were operating well within our chain of command. And I’m sure you do not doubt the value of what we accomplished My Lord?”
“As given that the Archon and First Prince are playing a very cagey game on exactly what we brought back it’s hard to say” the older man smiled thinly. “But certainly it does seem that for minimal losses we have enriched our realm … both our realms” he conceded after a moment's pause and glance at me -was he was expecting me to interject? - “a great deal. Of course, how the Dragon and Eagle will react to this...?” he shrugged enigmatically. “Well, we will see I suppose. Still I truly hope that in future, Captain, the Archon will at least consult with the people on the front line that are impacted by her decisions and the Hounds will pass on such information. It’s disappointing in light of her constant promises to work with the people of Skye, then showing she doesn’t trust us by going behind our backs like this...”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes (self-control roll successful!) at his carefully prepared bitching but luckily Dan was unsurprisingly his Father's son in more than one respect as he remained calm in turn and simply smiled back at the Duke, clearly able to fight a verbal battle on these grounds.
“I’ve found, Your Grace, that secrecy and security are rarely about trust per se” Dan countered, “but about having a need to know. Given the time critical nature of this race for the Lostech on Helm and the danger that any leak in the message chain could have triggered a two or even three way race for the cache? Well, I’m sure you can appreciate that using a unit that would bypass most of the LCAF command to minimize the risk of interception of orders makes a great deal of sense”.
“You’re suggesting that the Archon doesn’t trust her own chain of command?” Lestrade tutted with a shake of his head and an ‘alarmed’ smirk. “What a terrible thing to contemplate, Captain”
“In my experience, the Archon actually extends great trust towards those who wear the uniform and have proven themselves in the service of the Commonwealth Duke Lestrade” Dan noted, the unsaid -and socially deniable- implication that as Lestrade had completely avoided military service he was thus excluded from that list … but it clearly hit home in the way Aldo’s smile became much thinner. “But I have found in my experience that ‘trust’ has little to nothing to do with ‘need to know’. My Father” Dan nodded off towards the front of the Throne Room “always says that the percentage chance of a secret being exposed, in the long run, is equal to the square of the number of people who know about it. No matter how much we may trust people, none of us underestimate the skill of the ISF” he noted, turning slightly to the stone faced man flanking the Duke of Summer. “I’m sure, Colonel, that you are in full agreement that information security is absolutely vital to maintaining operational security?”
“Of course” Frederick Steiner nodded stiffly in full agreement before suddenly he blinked and didn’t quite turn to look at the Duke of Summer as he realized he had just thrown shade at his patron. “The Duke Lestrade's loyalty is beyond question, of course” he added, not quite hastily.
“Of course” Dan agreed with a nod. “His loyalty to Skye and its people is legendary, so I’ve seen on the ground on Pacifica” Dan said, not twisting the knife so much as flicking him on the nose with the hyper-specific reference to Skye rather than the Commonwealth at a whole.
“And we look forward to welcoming you back there of course” Lestrade smiled, having seemingly instantly recovered from the back and forth … but there was a gleam in his eye I didn’t like. “And in this time of such grim news for them, I hope - no, I know - the people of Skye extend their best wishes for you and your family”.
Dan frowned at that and my mind wondered at - oh shit I thought as it hit me what the man was talking about, feeling a surge of contempt as I turned back to face the Duke.
You petty ****** [/I]I fumed silently.
“I’m sorry your Grace, I’m not sure what you mean?” Dan asked carefully and the look on Lestrade's face immediately switched from sincere to shocked to sympathetic (all three utterly fake I knew but full credit for how real they looked) in a matter of seconds.
“Oh...” he muttered as if genuinely shocked before taking a deep breath I’m sure he didn’t need to steady himself. “I’m … I just assumed your Father would have told you when he saw you…” he continued drawing it out as I worked my jaw to keep silent - a reaction I cursed myself for giving away as I saw Lestrade note it and turned to face me. “That MIIO would have let you know?”
I kept my mouth shut but tried my best to glare with my eyes through my otherwise bland expression to the point of missing the pointed MIIO label for a few seconds before I dismissed it as something to worry about later.
Dan shot me a look for a second before turning back to Lestrade. “Pray tell, what would he have told me?” he said directly in a calm voice but with the slightest edge to it.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you” he lied, “but your half-brother, Justin, was badly injured in a battle late November on Kittery and Medivaced to NAIS” the Duke twisted the knife in behind his expression of solemn regret. “The news arrived to Pacifica after the Kell Hounds had been pulled out and without forwarding information, it was diverted back to theater command on Summer for us to try and track you down. If we had had known where the Hounds were going...” he apologetically shrugged and sighed in an excellent imitation of regret.
I’d give Dan Allard credit - the man was clearly shocked but rallied quickly, his eyes flashing in a way that told the Duke to not press his luck. It was quite remarkable composure really, probably as much as anything about not wanting to give the ****** the satisfaction.
“I thank you for your concern - and my thanks for bringing this to my attention Duke Lestrade” Dan offered him a cool nod that the Duke returned, Allard seeming to straighten slightly as he recovered. “Given this news, I should probably go and speak with my Father”.
“But of course” the Duke agreed, clearly happy he had won his little petty parting shot. “My best wishes to your Brother of course”.
“My best wishes as well Hauptmann” Frederick added suddenly from the side with a slight uncertainty in his stance, drawing attention back to him from everyone. “Your brother is by all accounts a superior MechWarrior, it would be a great loss to the AFFS if he were not able to get back into the cockpit”.
Say what you will about Future Focht, at least you can tell he is being absolutely sincere I thought silently.
“Thank you, Duke Steiner” Justin extended a hand that the man took and shook firmly. “From a MechWarrior of your reputation that means a great deal”.
If that last was a final backhand at Lestrade or just a polite response I didn’t know but it seemed to greatly please the man who one day might smile and kick the Clans in the crotch repeatedly. Before ‘capping a bitch’ back on Terra.
“By your leave, I believe I should go find my Father” Dan said to Aldo before, without waiting for approval, he offered a nod and gave me a ‘let’s go’ look.
“Gentlemen” I nodded at each of the two men, expecting nothing more than to be ignored. And was shocked when Lestrade smiled.
“Another time Agent Smith” he nodded at me with a rather chilling smile before turning away placidly, his elegant cape swirling like a supervillains as Frederick fell into place like a loyal retainer, leaving me biting the inside of my cheek painfully for a moment at his casual use of my name before I quick stepped it to catch up to Justin.
Nope, not touching that! I’d drop it into Quintus’s lap at some point tonight or tomorrow to deal with.
“Did you know?” Dan asked me out of the side of his mouth as I fell into place next to him and I decided to thread the truth despite the clear emotion swirling in the man’s eyes. The fact that Dan didn’t know about Justin's injury was clear evidence he was not read into my compartment although that didn’t surprise me. As Dan had just pointed out to Lestrade, he didn’t have a need to know about me no matter how much his Father trusted him.
“Neither your Father or anyone else told me about this” I shook my head slightly with my mouth a thin line and Allard seemed to accept my response at face value, probably again presuming ‘need to know’ around me. And/or that if I did know, he knew I was under classification orders to not tell him from his Father.
Mostly though I was just a bit stunned by the fact that Justin had, seemingly right on time and target, again been injured on Kittery, exactly like happened in Warrior En-Garde.
And I wasn’t sure what the hell to make of that.
Quintus Allard, Justin’s Father, knew everything that would happen thanks to my sources. Knew what his Son would go through, be put through against what it accomplished … and he had seemingly not taken any action to prevent it - perhaps had even actively worked to nullify any butterflies to ensure events played out. Despite the incredible risks, the odds that something would change and he might lose his son or have him crippled for life or who knows what; he had refused to find a safer way to kick his son out of the Federated Suns in disgrace to setup the mother of all backstabs.
That was … uh …
I’d be sure to remember this for the future when dealing with him. Ruthlessness I guess was part of the job description - and even if the original Justin plan was a quick ‘hey lets flip Michaels attempt to force us to exile Justin!’ done to/with a willing patriot - now with a good idea of how incredibly it would solve so many problems … it was still a hell of a thing to put his son through.
Pushing those unpleasant thoughts to the side for now, I followed close behind Dan as he made his way towards business end of the Lyran Commonwealth with purpose, dipping back into the side wing to bypass some crowds around some of the displays -ohh they had Pizza up this end! - before emerging up much closer to the VIPs and giving me a close up look at the Throne itself. It was impressive in a way it hadn’t been on the Vid, sitting on the top of a series of elevated terraces that made it clearly visible to the entire room (or would without the Christmas tree halfway down), the massive war machine machines standing left and right of them still painted in the colors of the Kell Hounds and Davion Guards towering over everyone. The throne itself was empty of course, roped off from the rest of the room to keep people away - although frankly with the Battlemechs looming above I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to try and sit in Katrina’s chair. On the back wall hung the banner of the Lyran Commonwealth itself directly above and behind the Throne, with the flags of the 1st and 2nd Royal Guards to the left and the banner of the 3rd to the right. There was a distinctly empty space where the banner of the 4th presumably was supposed to sit and I suppressed a smile at that before looking away to seek out our target.
I wasn’t surprised to find Katrina, Melissa, Hanse and a gaggle of other VIPs standing around together on the lower tiers above the throne room floor, sort of holding court inside the court I suppose. But I was surprised to find they were openly accessible and not being swamped by the crowd. I guessed some kind of Royal Protocol was in action - and again I felt a tinge of how hopelessly out of my depth I was.
Was there a ‘you don’t approach them, they approach or send for you’ rule in place or something?
At any rate, I spotted Quintus towards the side of the group with a cluster of suits and nudged Dan, nodding towards him. The younger Allard in turn nodded, an unasked question in his eyes that I think was ‘coming?’ that I shook my head lightly too and with no further hesitation the MechWarrior strode away with purpose to his father, who smiled in pleasure at his approach before Dan leaned in to talk quietly into his ear and Quintus’s gaze turned back to ‘poker face’. He glanced back at me past his sons back and I mouthed ‘Lestrade’ (guessing that the master spy would probably be a decent lip reader) and I saw a flash of something chilly in his eyes for a moment before he took Dan’s shoulder with a hand and led him off to the side and out of sight, probably to find a quiet back room somewhere and talk.
In all honestly, I wouldn’t give terribly good odds for the continued health of Aldo Lestrade given both how many people he was pissing off and how many of his dirty secrets had been exposed by me...
On that happy thought I glanced around, deciding that avoiding being seen with the Kings of the Castle as it were would be more sensible than not, moving off to investigate the other wing of the Throne room, to find it as Dan had promised, filled with all manner of Christmas fun as I moved down the steps into it. I couldn’t help but smile as I saw hundreds of children were enjoying Santa Clauses attention right up this end, the classic figure laughing as he handed out presents to them - after they assured him they had been good boys and girls, as their parents looked on with tolerant smiles. While further along...
Okay, I had to check all this out I decided, dropping my empty champagne flute onto a passing server’s tray and joined the winding path making its way through the next display which was the first in a long line of them stretching down the wing.
It was a miniature Christmas Village on a grand scale, crafted with astonishing detail that soon had me smiling broadly as I made my way through it. To my delight, it was not limited to simply the Lyran Commonwealth, but showed off roughly the entire Inner Sphere with all the Great Houses and their Christmas traditions laid out. Although it was no surprise to me that the Lyran Commonwealth and Federated Suns were by far the most detailed and ‘positive examples’, followed by the Free Worlds League … and the Confederation and Combine with far more somber displays, with notes on how tightly controlled Christmas celebrations are in those states and urges to remember it was Christmas there too and hopefully one day they would all be able to experience it as we did…
There was also plenty of cute of course; the tiny little Katrina and Melissa waving from on top of the Triad across the room to Hanse waving back on the top of his palace, was adorable I must admit … and reminded me of something.
Mental note, check if Lego exists and, if it doesn’t, invent it, trademark it and distribute the ****** out of it...
Outside of the ‘It’s a Small Sphere after all’ as I had dubbed it, I found that the area opened up into dozens of Christmas displays I spent some time wandering through, in a bemused, happy sort of state over the next couple of hours, taking in the air of general revelry and celebration. From a moving animatronic Santa's workshop with elves hard at work (in all honestly I didn’t recall them in my time using Industrial Exoskeletons with Achernar Industries logos all over them...) and eventually wound up moving into a large crowd who were cheering watching a holographic flight simulator … of Santa's Sleigh?!
Raising an eyebrow I stepped closer, finding a place in the crowd who were cheering on the current challenger. It looked like a rail shooter with a holographic projection instead of a screen, but the projection gave it surprisingly nice visual depth as the sleigh zigged and zagged on its way, seemingly packing enough firepower to burn through a McKenna.
Apparently Lyran Santa had the guns.
All the guns.
And the ‘Grinch Fleet’ (who looked suspiciously Kuritian in their design and colors looking units) were very determined to stop him on his mission to bring presents to the children, throwing themselves with increasing frequency and firepower as the level wound on at ‘Santa’, the ‘sleigh’ itself on gimbals that had it pivoting and moving surprisingly harshly … but it didn’t seem to impact the pilots accuracy one bit.
Okay, this looked awesome.
And whoever the current pilot was, he had frigen mad twitch skills, the crowd growing ever more excited as the pilot got closer and closer to the end of the level until I could barely credit this guys (or girls!) reaction times, the guns never stopping in their firing and seeming to hit a target with every shot until with a sudden spin and dive the sleigh blasted past the last line of shattered enemies to streaked over the city to loud cheers and applause as a nicely rendered cutscene showed presents dropping into countless chimneys with a ‘Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!’.
The man at the controls unstrapped himself, stood and turned to take a bow to yet more cheers and applause.
Okay, no surprise a new high score had been set I thought in mild amusement as Patrick Kell, his face beaming with that confident cheerfulness, stepped down to back slaps and congratulations from a handful of his officers waiting for him as the crowd started to disperse, accepting his uniform jacket back … as some of said officers with expressions of either annoyance or glee started swapping varying amounts of Kronor.
I smiled at that again and started to wonder if I should go up and say hello … when a voice spoke up behind me.
“Mister Smith, I trust that you are enjoying yourself tonight?”
Not recognizing the voice I instantly went on guard, taking a second to school myself into a calm state before turning with my best ‘pleased to meet you’ expression on my face - and almost lost it in an instant as I saw who was standing directly behind me.
What, I got ‘Tweedledee’ so I get ‘Tweedledum’ for free? ****** BROB!
I wasn’t stupid enough to SAY any of that of course. Morgan Kell might have been able to cross swords with this man at a similar party (while dueling with Lestrade to boot!) but then he was someone with such a towering reputation, a man they knew was perfectly able and willing to kill them if they decided to press the issue beyond words, so they knew to only go so far.
I … wasn’t such a person.
“The Archon has indeed put on a splendid celebration tonight, My Lord” I nodded to him in a way I hoped would be considered polite. “It is an honor to be here - and I am pleased to have been invited” I said calmly and formally, extending a hand completely unsure of if that was acceptable protocol.
Alessandro Steiner nodded ever so slightly back, one his hands gripping a tumbler of something golden as he extended another to take mine and shake it. No contest of strength or anything silly like that, just a simple straightforward handshake.
“Yes - you seem to be showing up in curious places Mister Smith” he observed with a knowing twitch of a smile at me as he let go of my hand, regarding me in an appraising way. Beyond him I think I spotted a few people I took to be flunkies who had sort of spread out to isolate us even in the middle of the crowd. Not physically exactly, but I supposed they formed another of those Royal Rules things understood by the court as people were clearly giving us a wide berth as if they were directing traffic. “Just yesterday, my Nieces, the First Prince and both realms Intelligence Chiefs called in the unit commanders from your little raid as soon for debriefing” he noted, his gaze focused rather directly at me even as he kept his tone perfectly cordial. “As is proper, of course. And in such ... impressive company, the unknown does tend to stand out”.
He paused at that, as if he was expecting me to say something - but I kept my mouth glued shut tight as he took a sip from his tumbler, his grey eyes burning into me before his expression softened into an almost grandfatherly one. “But I do hope that you are enjoying your stay in The Triad so far?”
Translation; ‘I don’t know who the ****** you are. I do know you walked into a meeting with some of the most powerful people in the Inner Sphere and that you are staying as a guest of Katrina Steiner personally … and I want to know more’.
Alessandro of all people having sources on things like this wasn’t that big of a surprise, he was a former Archon after all. And just as clearly beyond the fact that I was an ‘unknown’ operating in close orbit of the power players on the planet, he didn’t seem to really know anything.
But honestly, even that was too much!
On the plus side, the man in front of me would most probably be dead in five years from long term radiation poisoning … but that seemed a very long time away from here and now.
“Yes, the Archon has been most generous to let me stay as her guest in her home. I take it you are as well, Lord Steiner?” I replied, trying to be polite and inoffensive with bland small talk … before the darkening expression in his eyes suggested to me that he had probably not taken it the way I meant … and in a flash it hit me why.
The man had probably taken THAT as a subtle dig - or not so subtle dig - at the fact that he was now a guest in the house he had once owned.
Whoops!
Fortune smiled upon me however as the deposed Archon held back whatever he had been about to say, his gaze shifting over my shoulder as he seemed to rapidly collect himself … and perk up as if he had found a new plaything.
“Ah Lieutenant Colonel Kell” Alessandro smiled thinly at him with the slight stress on his rank clearly deliberate. “It has been too long. The Kell Hounds are well, I take it?”
“Very well Your Grace” Patrick thanked him as he edged around me to stand at my side and with a thump have his hand land on my shoulder in a friendly sort of way that still almost had my knees buckle before he removed it.
I embraced the impact though, as a sign that reinforcements had arrived as the older Steiners gaze shifted fully away from me. Even if it only seemed to reinforce the point he had been making about the people I was chilling with. “Thank you for asking”.
“But of course” Steiner nodded with a smile. “And your brother, I take it, is well? I’m hoping you’ve at least kept in some contact, since ... ‘The Defection’ I think you call it?”
And now the tension around me became an almost physical thing and I fought the instinctive urge to cringe. It had been almost a decade now since Morgan vanished after the legendary duel on Mallory’s World ... and from the way Patrick seemed to still as I felt the tension spike, I knew this conversation wasn’t going good places … and that Morgan, indeed as in Btech canon, had not been in contact with his brother or his unit of whom he had asked so much.
‘The Defection‘ was a watershed moment in early Battletech history - another one of those things that was fantastic and mysterious in scenario books for the game, but made rather less sense in ‘real life’.
Simply put, Morgan had gone round the bend to abandon his brother, lover and fire two thirds of his unit after ‘winning’ the duel against Yorinaga Kurita, going into seclusion, with no explanation given then or since. It was utterly verboten as far as topics went to the Hounds and from he way the flunkies behind Steiner seemed to suddenly start paying more attention, I’m guessing Patricks officers were making it clear by their looks-
“You have my sympathies, of course” Steiner added after Patrick didn’t respond, a faux-but-real look of apology also on his face in contrast to the stiff coldness of Kells expression. “At this time of year especially, it must be hard for you and the Hounds family to have no word or explanation from him. Even after all this time, loyally carrying the torch for him, waiting for him to come back without any word as time marches on must not be at all easy...”
-
Great, so first Lestrade hits Dan Allard in the heart now Alessandro goes for the gut punch?
Or were these ****** just so determined to poke at Katrina after her huge political win today started to undercut their little schemes, so they are going for any shot they could find?
Patrick impressed me however by not decking the man on the spot - given that his expression suggested he would quite like to do so.
But damn it, as much as I loathed the elder Steiner for being a complete prick; the fact was that the bastard did have a point. It was one thing after the duel on Mallory's World for Morgan to decide that he needed a time out … but firing two thirds of his unit off then turning command over to his brother before cutting him off for ten years without any explanation but a heavily implied order that he would keep the Hounds exactly as they were until further notice?
Oh I knew Morgan had a plan that he finally put into motion … after Patrick died … but frankly, his plan sucked and had left Patrick, loyal good Patrick, trapped in an impossible position. There was a reason that after Patrick had died in his place fighting Yorinaga Kurita and Dan Allard had been given the horrible task of having to go and tell Morgan Dan had quickly enough let him have both barrels with quite the ‘Reason you Suck Speech’. And why Salome Ward, bless her soul, had just greeted Morgan with a rather vicious right hook on his return as she stomped past him into the briefing room.
But, in the end … blood in the Kell Hounds seemingly ran thicker than water. They were family and had rallied to Morgans calls quickly enough.
Family.
That word again brought to mind a surge of loneliness. I was stuck here, in a universe of spoiled brats fighting over a dead Throne, crazy genofreaks who wanted to wipe out Homo Sapiens in favor of Homo Kerensky and a phone company who wanted you to kneel before the Yellow Pages … while my family and the ‘real’ me carried on their life unknowingly somewhere in the multiverse.
But my self-pity passed through me and dissipated as once again I thought about that day in Davion Peace Park … or even Melissa Steiner playfully kicking me in the shins to hide her own insecurities. The times that it hit me, really hit me, that this was not a tabletop game or an RPG or video game … but a living thriving universe just as real as my original one, filled with hundreds of billions of people. Good people, bad people - but mostly just normal, very real people who had to deal with very terrible, powerful monsters in the dark with far too few good people trying to beat them back.
Because ****** like Alessandro (who combined the worst parts of Cersei Lannister, President Snow and Hugo Drax) would burn down everything so long as they could rule over the ashes no matter how many billions died.
And I found myself suddenly determined to slap him down, not even thinking that this wasn’t my fight and that my profile needed to be kept at least somewhat low.
Mostly, I was just realizing I had a whole ****** [/I]of virgin 20th and 21st century quotes to throw around and mangle horribly that I hadn’t tried out yet...
“Life is never easy my Lord Steiner” I softly interjected, causing a collective sort of ‘blink’ across many sets of eyes turned to face me as I interjected myself into the conversation. “Life in the Inner Sphere these days ain't sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean, very nasty place that doesn’t care how tough you are. Doesn’t care if you’re a Noble or vaunted MechWarrior because nothing will ever hit you as hard as life does. It will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it” I said with the conviction of someone who had drifted closer than I wanted to admit to rock bottom when I found out the truth of what had happened to me.
Much closer than I wanted to admit honestly, even to myself.
“But life ain’t about how hard you can hit, it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. It’s about how much you can take and keep moving forward - that’s how winning is done” I said emphatically and noticed vaguely that the MechWarriors standing around who were increasingly paying attention to my bad attempt to channel Stallone were nodding in agreement. “Archon Steiner for example” I continued, glancing at Alessandro who looked just a tiny bit smug at the promotion, then again as Morgan Kell had pointed out in the OTL, what do you call a deposed Archon? “When she lost the love of her life to a person trying to kill her” -annnnnnd now his expression dropped back to an absolutely rock solid poker face, gee I wonder why? - “had a choice of either getting lost in the past or striving to make his sacrifice mean something by building a future for their daughter. Prince Davion?” I continued as my adrenal glands seemed to work overtime to sew this speech together that was drawing more and more attention, making me vaguely wonder why the hell I couldn’t have this eloquence in front of the Archon or First Prince. “He lost his brother and was thrust into a position he never expected. He could have crumpled under the impact, but took the hit and kept moving forward. Lieutenant Colonel Kell?” I glanced at the man who stiffened slightly but was looking at me with an expression of utter seriousness I had only seen before in the Helm briefing as he waited for my judgement. “He honored his brothers trust in him by trusting him in return by rebuilding the Kell Hounds into the best damn reinforced combined arms Battalion in the Inner Sphere that’s added battle honor after battle honor to their standard” I lied convincingly as a loud rumble of agreement from quite a few people behind me as I turned back to face ‘Mister Wants To Be Archon Again’ and felt a kind of secret smugness at the sour look in his eyes at me derailing his attempt to poke at the younger Kell brother that seemed to be winning the crowd over.
Get the hint it yet? The Lyran Commonwealth has moved past you, concentrated moron...
“Respectfully, as I see it” I continued, lifting my gaze slightly to make use of my slight height advantage over the older man, “Morgan Kell having little contact with his family is simply proof he has such trust and confidence in them. That he sees no need to look over their shoulders then or now. Knowing that the Hounds will only go from strength to strength until the day he returns to rejoin them … knowing they will be waiting and ready with him to punch life in the face until it falls to the ground”.
Okay, I wasn’t expecting applause at that and -ouch- there was Patricks hand back on my shoulder giving it a firm squeeze and a look of fierce … what? Pride? Understanding perhaps?
On reflection, feeling the emotions rolling around me, it started to hit me that perhaps a lot of that had been as much as anything, a pep talk to myself to wipe away the last of my moping around Christmas.
Reminding myself that life had dealt me some implausible, impossibly harsh body blows over the last year to change my entire reality. It had stripped my family away from me. My friends. My world. My reality. And possibly for a short time, my sanity.
But it hadn’t stripped me of my agency to stand up, make a decision and start moving forward.
…
Although on reflection, perhaps figuratively stepping in the face of Alessandro Steiner and farting in his general direction after he started gleefully poking at Patrick, wasn’t the best idea?
Oh well, too late to worry about that I suppose. I’d just dump that onto Simon Johnson's desk, wouldn’t be fair to get both Tweedledee and Tweedledum to only one of the two...
As if he could sort of read my mind (and who the ****** knows how Phantom Mech bullshit might express itself given that Takashi Kurita seemed awfully convinced he could read people's auras or something) Patrick nodded once and smiled as he proudly took in his people around him, their tension gone and replaced with just pride in each other and themselves.
His people … ah crap.
“Colonel Kell” I yanked Patricks attention back, lowering my volume. “As you’re here now, I’m afraid I just received some bad news around one of your officers I should pass on. Specifically, about Captain Daniel Allard”.
“Dan? What is it?” Patrick asked instantly as he let go of me but turned to face me fully, turning his back on Steiner to focus on this news. A leader instantly more concerned for one of his men than himself…
I opened my mouth as if to respond but then paused and slowly turned to face Alessandro … who was clearly observing this twist listening in with great interest to this news and hadn’t moved a millimeter.
“Ah, if you’ll excuse me Your Grace? This is a somewhat private matter” I said with as perfectly an innocent expression as I could muster, as if entirely unaware I had just TSM slapped back the man's attempt to poke at Patrick and goad him into losing his cool in some way to embarrass Katrina.
“But of course Mister Smith. Colonel, once again, my compliments for your units achievements” the man said with the same calm attitude he had held through the entire little verbal skirmish, getting a stiff nod from Kell … but Steiner let his piercing grey eyes seem to pan over all of us as if memorizing us to put on a ‘to do’ list titled ’do something unpleasant to them later’...
It wasn’t a happy feeling but I didn’t give the man the satisfaction of breaking my guileless smile as he turned away and started moving back towards the main floor, his toadies falling into orbit around him and hangers on started to move in on him.
“Actually I’m not entirely sure” I frowned, trying to remember that one. It was an old insult, I think back from the pre Spacebattles days on the internet, the days of Usenet when curses were just so much more original. “But I’m pretty sure he’s one of them”.
“You know what? I think so too” the Major said after a pause before cracking a smile and quickly there were snickers all around at that one.
“The ******’ aside, what was this about Dan?” Patrick asked, stepping closer and lowering his volume as, with a glance at his officers, the other Kell Hounds sort of spread out to give us some privacy.
In a few short sentences I explained the situation of what we had overheard from Aldo Lestrade and Dan going off to see his Father. Patrick, while grimacing at my relaying of what Lestrade had said, thanked me nonetheless. I could sense he wanted to ask me more, but instead he just gave me another backslap I know he intended to be friendly and grateful, but I swear came this close to dislocating my shoulder before he started to lead his officers off at a brisk walk.
Well that was enough excitement for the night I think and I decided to see if I could sneak across to grab some food and then make a discrete exit when the most recent Christmas music finished to another smattering of applause through the vast room, followed then unexpectedly by a voice over the speakers politely noting that the final song of the night, the ‘Archons Choice’ was about to be performed and instantly the crowds were in motion, making it near impossible to get across to the other wing. After a few moments, I gave up to just go with the flow as everyone closed in on the front half of the main floor, walking back up onto the rapidly filling up first half of the main court. My height gave me a bit of an edge to look over the crowd from a position about halfway between the Christmas tree and Throne and I used it, studying where the power trio were chatting to a group of young children.
I had utterly no idea what was going on, so I decided to ask the man next to me.
“Excuse me Sir” I asked politely. “Would you know exactly what is this is about?”
“It’s a tradition” the man sniffed at me in surprise, seemingly mildly scandalized I had addressed him at all in his black leather pants and shirt, with a sparkling blue suit jacket and crazy ponytail like hair that suggested he was either crazy, or a blueblood wearing edgy fashion. One taking offense at a non-blueblood daring to speak to him so casually.
Or both.
Then he caught the Steiner-Blue shade of my outfit and I swear he actually seemed to double take, before seeming to grudgingly calculate based on that I at least deserved an answer.
“Every year the Archon, before retiring, closes her presence out with a selected Christmas song of her choice. Traditionally, one somewhat rare and even occasionally commissioned specifically for this” he deigned to explain a little more. “But it would seem this year she has decided to gift this choice to a song brought by Hanse Davion, which may prove … interesting” he allowed.
If ‘interesting’ meant good or bad, well, I suppose he was an expert in the court technique of saying something that after the fact could easily be claimed to be one or the other.
Finally however Hanse Davion stepped up as the rooms lights dimmed somewhat leaving the massive Christmas tree as the main source of light as the thousands of people fell into an awed hush as a soft spotlight isolated The Fox, the Archon and her Daughter. Hanse then smiled thanked the Archon for offering the honor of the song to him, explaining that that this song had been found in the legendary Hoff Library collection on a media data core and only recently decoded, along with an amount of other music from the distant past on Terra. And that this would thus be the first Christmas in quite possibly a thousand years this song had been heard -with some minor updates to the lyrics of course, generating a buzz of genuine excitement in the massive room.
That of course raised my interest too and I watched as the power trio stepped slowly back into the darkness to leave in turn a trio of adorable children in their place -
Wait, hang on a second; did Melissa just look directly at me and smirk before vanishing? I blinked as she stepped back into the dark - then what sounded like chimes played a suddenly familiar rift-
‘Silence falls softly like snowflakes through the air…’ one of the young girls sung adorably as the camera zoomed in on her face on the screens mounted on the columns along the room.
I felt a brief moment of disorientation as suddenly it became clear what was being played and my jaw dropped open.
He hadn’t … they hadn’t … this had not come from Hoff. This had come from my iPhone!
‘It’s nighttime and morning is near … your world has snow men, its hills a frosty white. My world has lots of sunlight!”
And then drums and an electric guitar kicked in and I could see a few heads in the vast audience start nodding their heads along to the beat and it became clear to me that … they had.
‘Ohhhhhhhhhh but we’re all the same! When we wake, on Christmas day, believe it when I sayyyy...’
And then the music kicked in, the choir joined in for the chorus and hidden Christmas lights (including the ‘ice’ I had taken for non-functional decorations) illuminated through the darkness, earning a gasp of awe just as that incredibly ear-worm infesting chorus kicked in led by the adorable kids.
‘Merry Christmas! And a happy new year! Ohhhhhhhhh! Merry Christmas! And a happy new year! Ohhhhhhhh a happy new year!’
I blinked at that and reached up to wipe away a suspicious amount of moisture that was on my face for some reason as the music rolled on, a lot of people bobbing along as parents waved in time with their kids and enjoyed themselves.
And certainly it wasn’t because the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth, Archon-Designate of the Lyran Commonwealth and First Prince of the Federated Suns had taken one of the most played Christmas songs on my iPhone, extracted it, transcribed it into music, crash trained a band in weeks or even days how to play and sing it and then thrown it into one of the more cherished traditions of this Christmas eve night on Tharkad …
Because that would be ****** ludicrous, a waste of their incredibly precious time all for the sake of just … what?
The song built up and up with the lighting and special effects matching until we reached full scale Hogwarts as with an awed gasp from the masses, holographics kicked in above us, seemingly vanishing the roof and replacing it with a night sky, making it look like it was snowing in the Triad with the roof no longer there. And then on the final chorus, Katrina’s distinctive voice called “Everyone!” in a way that was not a request and the entire room broke into loud song. Even Sir Snooty Face next to me was smiling and singing along with everyone and broke into applause with the crowd, sustained cheers and whistles showing their approval as the house lights came back up.
Katrina ‘high fived’ them off as she re-appeared alone, standing just in front of her Throne (and looking seriously incredible in a slick silver dress with a simple tiara around her golden hair) to thank everyone for coming. Finishing by saying that she just wanted to, on behalf of her and Lord Davion …
And then ‘We Wish you a Merry Christmas!’ kicked in and the entire crowd dove in head first with enthusiasm, the band driving with great gusto and giving me the impression that this was the traditional way the night ended.
And ****** it, it was so damn infectious I joined in in an instant and wondered why I had been full of so much self-pity I had preferred to sulk up in my room, even with running into Tweedledee and Tweedledum.
Or was that just Dumb and Dumber?
And so the music ended with the choir holding the final high not impressively as the drummers up there smashed their hearts out until finally it ended. And to the cheers and clapping Katrina offered the Royal Court a bow that was returned with varying degrees of inebriation by the room before smiling and twirling around to walk out, her dress making a triumph of her slender legs and that incredible a-
I immediately whacked my head against the very stone column I was against, the (significantly more than anticipated) spike of pain bouncing around my skull and down my spine to bring some level of sanity back, pushing away those thoughts as the crowd started to move around me. It seemed the night was ‘officially’ over but it was a soft close, with the VIPs retiring but everyone free to hang around. Although most families seemed to be moving towards the main doors, herding overexcited and overtired children clutching their presents from Santa while carrying those who had decided to wait it out.
I took a minute to recover my poise, thankful for the handkerchief I had thrown into a pocket on habit when I got dressed earlier to clear my face. And I wasn’t terribly surprised when it was Dan Allard who eased his way through the dispersing crowd to me and I stepped down from my little perch out to meet him.
“You okay?” I asked quietly when he was in range and Dan nodded at me with a faint smile. Although the stress could be seen in his eyes, worry for his distant brother.
Get used to worrying I thought sadly, reflecting about what Justin’s future held if indeed things held close to canon. Or easily went worse on the Mad Max Express...
-
“Yes” he said, leading me away and towards the ‘business end’ of the Throne room and then out a side door guarded by LIC types and through several other doors to loop around behind the end of the Throne Room, if I had my spatial senses working right. “Justin is going to be okay” Dan continued once we were out of public earshot, but clearly not wanting to talk more about it. “I’m sorry you got caught up in that Agent Smith. I hope you were able to enjoy yourself without me?”
“Quite so” I tactfully agreed with a smile, deciding against telling him about the little run-in his boss had with the eldest Steiner in the house. He’d probably find out sooner or later anyway, but he had enough of his plate tonight to worry about the pettiness of a former Archon who knew his time was running out.
It also gave me time to think on the fact that Justin's ‘events’ had, so far, played out so much like the original timeline despite, on the face of it, seeming to be fragile enough that they could easily be butterflied.
I really didn’t want to think that there was some kind of bullshit ‘train track’ destiny that would force reality to proceed down preset lines or some crap like that. I was totally the ‘no fate but what we make’ school of thought.
I mean hell, didn’t ****** Helm prove that outright?
Distracted in my thoughts I only realized we ‘were there’ when Dan paused in front of another guarded door and knocked twice. A muffled ‘come in’ came back and he opened it to let me inside before closing it behind me.
I made a mental note to apologize to the man for being dragged into babysitting duties by his father later as I glanced around. Ah. This … this could only be Katrina’s private office.
Wood paneled with exquisite, aristocratic looking furniture that probably cost as much combined as an Assault Mech was spread throughout it. My attention however instantly gravitated to the large and slightly out of place looking oaken desk sitting towards the back of the room. It didn’t look like a priceless antique (like everything else in the room did) and was stained a subtly different shade of brown to boot. I was sure that any number of aristocrats would have turned their noses up at the clearly far cheaper piece of furniture behind which the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth sat and ruled. And quite possibly offered her a replacement desk from their own vast collections of historical and valuable treasures in an attempt to win favor.
I’m also sure that they never would have made that mistake a second time after finding out that this desk had been hand built, semi IKEA style, by Arthur Luvon and Morgan Kell. And thus probably meant more to Katrina than any of the warehouses full of antiques her family surely owned across the planet.
I wonder if the top right draw actually sticks I thought to myself before killing the urge to walk over and check, instead glancing away to the right where the office included a comfortable looking lounge chair set around a coffee table. Katrina was standing and leaning against a chair comfortably, her tiara gone and her hair hanging looser, with Hanse having ditched his uniform jacket sitting next to Melissa, who seemed to be taking great delight in ignoring her mother's reproving look as she slid her heels off and sighed contently.
“Archon, Archon-Designate, Prince Davion” I greeted the three with a somewhat unpracticed bow towards them, but Katrina waved off the formality with faint amusement.
“Leave the titles at the door John” the Archon snorted as she waved to the seat on her left opposite the Prince and her daughter, stirring into motion to walk across to the featureless wall and with a touch, cause a panel to silently drop down to reveal a sideboard with glasses and bottles. “Scotch?” she asked without turning back as she pulled several glasses.
I didn’t really feel like drinking - but it did not pay to be rude to my host.
And I had a feeling I might need a stiff drink very shortly.
“Yes, please” I replied as Katrina efficiently prepared the drinks. Trying to resist the urge to fiddle with my fingers as I sort of just … stood there, having not been invited to-
“John?” Katrina called out after a few seconds of silence, not turning away from her work.
“Yes Ma’am?” I asked, glancing at her backs - back! Only at her back! God what was with me around Katrina Steiner?! In front of her daughter?!
“For God’s sake, take off your jacket and sit down. And call me Katrina, the room is perfectly secure”.
“Uh yes M...Katrina” I caught myself barely in time, though not fast enough to keep Melissa from snickering at me. But her smile was so damn cheeky it cut the tension and drained it out as I took off my jacket and folded it over the back of my chair, coming around to sit down onto the very plush leather as the Archon returned, handing out the tumblers. I accepted mine with a polite mumble of thanks as did Hanse, the Archon moving in her chair at the head of the table and pointedly ignoring Melissa’s ‘Seriously?’ pout at her tumbler seeming to only contain sparkling water, with the patience of a mother dealing with a teenage daughter.
I decided to take the initiative as Katrina settled into her chair, carefully putting the tumbler onto the coaster in front of me, after taking a subtle breath to calm myself down.
Manners first. I may not be a noble, but I’d like to think my upbringing was polite.
“Before anything else I wanted to thank all three of you” I said, glancing across at the youngest who was sitting just a tad closer to Hanse than might have been considered entirely appropriate in other company, suppressing a smile at that. “Melissa especially for taking the time to drag me out of sulking in my room with only self-pity for company” I said with a nod in her direction, before adding after a pause and a bit of a smirk; “and for leaving me mostly unbruised in the process”. That earned me a look but unlike Tweedledee and Tweedledum there was absolutely no rancor in her eyes, only playfulness and amusement. “But that Christmas song … well” I paused for a second and ruthlessly fought down the emotions trying to push up. “I don’t want to even think about how much time and effort on short noticed had to be put into that and … well, thanks. A lot, for going to that effort for me”.
“We’re House Lords John” Hanse laughed softly at me, his eyes dancing with mirth, waving a hand idly towards the ceiling. “We have entire castles filled with people who leap at our minor whims - but you’re welcome. You earned having a part of that celebration be specifically for you given what you accomplished this year. And Melissa was, quite rightly, insistent that you shouldn’t spend Christmas alone”
“Yes, I’ve noticed trying to refuse her what she wants is, fortunately” I smiled at her, “a futile exercise”.
“See, if everyone else in this family would just listen to me like him, things would move a lot smoother around here” she posted with an exaggerated huff. “And besides, that song was awesome, way better than last years!”
“Yes it’s actually quite catchy” Katrina added as she took a tiny sip from her tumbler, her smile slightly wry. “I’m probably going to have it in my head for days”.
“It does that” Hanse agreed with a tight smile before glancing back at me to explain off my look. “As it so happens, we’ve released a compilation of a great deal of your 20th and 21st century hits on the New Avalon charts that were, as best our archivists could tell, unknown to us. Claiming like I said tonight they were from a Star League era drive. We’ve easily played it as simply being a thousand years on the wrong side of three Succession Wars and no-one questioned that, but it’s made your songs wildly popular. The album has gone straight to number one on the charts across most worlds in the Crucis March, with all proceeds going to charity” he said, raising his own tumbler for a moment to offer me a salute. “A lot of less fortunate people across the Outback are going to get a few things of their own for Christmas this year who would have otherwise gone wanting”.
“That’s … very good to hear” I said in some surprise, feeling genuinely pleased at the news that my little stash of iTunes would have some good come of it.
“Indeed, you seem to have a knack for helping out people John” Katrina observed from over the lip of her glass, her gaze considering and contemplative. “Almost without realizing what you’re doing...”
I wasn’t exactly sure how to answer that but didn’t have to as Hanse sat up a little straighter, placing his tumbler down on a coaster to consider me a little closer and I felt the ‘mood’ switch over to something more serious.
“When I was much younger John, in the aftermath of Halstead Station, I spent some time on the way home examining and cataloguing much of what we had saved, from the Star League Library. When we opened that vault and saw all those books and data slates, I have to admit, I thought that we - I - had done it. That Lostech would be a thing of the past soon enough” he said, before huffing in a sort of dark amusement and shaking his head once. “Call it the hubris of youth I suppose. On the way home though as we catalogued and started to go through what we had recovered, frankly, all it seemed to do for me was to bring into perfect focus just how far we had fallen from our heights and just how daunting the task was before us. That there would be no easy or quick answer to all our problems and I must admit, I wondered at the time if the lives lost were even worth what we had managed to save?” he said, his expression turning solemn and introspective for a moment. No doubt in my mind he was remembering Dana Stephenson, the woman he had proposed to -and lost- in that mission and I was not sure what to say or do to that.
Melissa however was there and she reached out and took a hold of Hanse’s hand, startling him slightly as she gripped it, her face an expression of silent understanding as she gave his hand a squeeze.
I couldn’t help but smile for a moment at that. I’m sure Melissa knew of Hanse’s first love and that he was thinking of her ... but there was not even a hint of jealousy or unease or anything like that in her expression; just empathy and support over his loss, offered without conditions.
And as Hanse squeezed her hand back with a silent thanks in his eyes, I knew that he knew she knew (say that three times fast) and accepted the offered support for what it was.
And I knew then and there, to my considerable relief, I had not ****** up the cornerstone of the Federated Commonwealth as I had feared from the bruises no doubt forming on my shin...
“In any event” Hanse continued after a moment, his voice once again filled with the normal calm confidence I had come to associate with him as he turned back to face me, “after reflecting, I knew now where we were and where we needed to go. And no matter if I did not live to see us reach it, it was incumbent upon me to be the one to start us on that path. NAIS is, at least to me, in part a living promise to Dana and all those who died. To make their sacrifices worth it, no matter how hard or long the road...”
“You choose to go to the moon” I muttered to myself as he seemed to trail off, as everything about the NAIS sort of clicked into a new perspective from me. That it was as much as anything a final gesture to the woman he had loved and all those under his command who had made the sacrifice to lay the foundation stone for NAIS.
Which in turn was now in position to exploit the Helm Core, in full...
Then I realized I had said that out loud and refocused my gaze on Hanse, feeling a slight flush come up on my face at the probably rather esoteric, ancient reference feeling I’d have to explain it.
But then again, this was Hanse ****** Davion.
“And do the other things. Not because they are easy, but because they are hard. Because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one we intend to win, and the others, too” Hanse quoted John F Kennedy flawlessly, awarding me a nod with a look that made me feel I had just passed some sort of test. “But for all I’ve built and accomplished with NAIS, I was sure that it would be up to our children and our children's children” he said, squeezing Melissa's hand once again and getting a smile once again as they glanced at each other, “to bring about a second renaissance, if you will”. He paused for a moment and again turned to look at me, his expression even more intense somehow and making me shift slightly. “Until this morning that is. When Katrina and I arrived at Asgard, ostensibly to discuss the logistics of some war games we are planning for the Davion Guards on the way home with the 3rd Royals. But in reality, just gave us both an excuse to log onto the copy of the Helm Core due to be put into deep storage in the black-vault there, log onto it and just …”
Hanse shook his head sharply and took a breath. Holy hell, was the man on the verge of tears there for a second?
…
Well if he was, he snapped it back under control in a heartbeat as Katrina smoothly stepped in.
“If someone had offered me ten mixed regiments of Mechs, vehicles and equipment from the Star League ripe for use and with plenty left over for reverse engineering, I would have considered giving them one of my lesser but still developed worlds to rule as perfectly acceptable trade” the Archon said, staring into her glass of scotch absently for a moment before her eyes shifted to fix me. “Even with the political nightmare of arranging such a thing I would have considered it a bargain” she continued, leaning forward to delicately place her tumbler onto the table, leaning forward in her chair with her elbows on her knees to regard me closely and directly. “And I would have grudgingly paid a much higher price if the alternative was one of my peers getting their hands on it instead - present company excluded of course” she added the last with a sly smile in her expression, which Hanse returned with a chuckle and nod before all eyes dragged back to me.
“If said person had also brought me enormous political insights to my enemies, shown me where the bodies were buried and how what their most secret inner most thoughts were past present and future? I would have happily thrown titles and money at them enough that their family would be raised from nothing to among the Commonwealths most lauded, without hesitation”.
And now, she eased forward on her seat, leaning inward and resting her elbows on her knees as she got just a tad in my space, closer than I had ever been to her with her grey eyes seeming to pierce right through me.
“And John, if they had offered me and my peers the means to completely rebuild the technological base of the Star League from first principles? Asking that in exchange my cost would be to give them my daughter's hand?” she said, turning her gaze for a second to Melissa who returned her mother’s look levelly without objection or rancor before Katrina turned back to me. “Then I would have given that”.
“Then it’s a good thing she already has a fiancé, I don’t think my shins could take much more” I snarked without thinking, the sheer intensity in Katrinas eyes was just frightful as she made me believe she meant absolutely every word she said … and made me understand how much such a choice would have cost her.
There was a moment of terrible ghastly silence that lasted just long enough for me to wonder if I had just made a really bad joke when Katrina was trying to be really serious-
Then there was a snicker from my right that hissed into a snorted giggle as Melissa tried to control herself … and Katrina closed her eyes and let a smile pass across her face as she leaned back and joined her daughter in laughing softly, the tension in the moment dissipating and her mask slipped and she reached down to pick up her drink.
Hmm. Good idea I thought, reaching down and doing the same, bracing myself …
Ah! Smoooooth.
Katrina clearly has much better taste in drinks to keep for guests than Hanse.
“Nonetheless” Katrina put in as she settled into her chair, her gaze now somewhat more relaxed than it had been but just as serious. “If you can understand that, you can understand just how much what you have given freely to us is worth, making it perhaps even more incumbent upon us to reward you” she said, holding up a hand as I opened my mouth to speak up. “Part of the duty of Hanse and I, as it is for all nobility, is to reward those in service to us when they accomplish great things. That is not negotiable” she added as I started to open my mouth, causing me to close it quickly. “Fealty is not a one way street and not rewarding you for doing more for both our realms that frankly anyone has in centuries, is an insult to all those who have sworn themselves to us”.
“Keywords ‘done for’” I dared to reply, glancing around the room. “I have actually done very little, I simply provided some information I had. I didn’t have to steal it single handedly from Luthien shooting my way past the massed Sword of Light regiments on foot shaking their MAGIC BUSHIDO FISTS at me as I flew off into the distance on Takashi’s personal shuttle”.
“...their what?” Katrina raised an eyebrow at that one and I paused, considered and shook my head.
“Long story. Anyway, the point is that all I did was fast forward known events. If I had not even existed, the Grey Death Legion would have gotten it to you - albeit not in the most perfect of formats, but there none the less. If anything, you should reward them because without what they did in the old timeline, none of this would have happened - even ignoring the fact that I’m in no way qualified or trained in things like how to handle a landhold if you wanted to give me one”.
“I already have the Director of Mercenary Liaisons working on that with quite generous terms” Hanse noted from the side, looking amused at my being behind the eight ball. “From what you’ve told me of them and what MIIO brought up, they seem to be an ideal long term prospect for recruitment and I could certainly use some more troops in the Draconis March over the next few years”.
“Oh. Well, good” I blinked. “Anyway” I tried to move the subject back to my objections, “other rewards like trying to elevate me to noble status are, again, problematic. I mean just walking around the Triad tonight I felt like I was so far out of my depth I was rolling for crush-depth breaches-”
“You certainly seemed to handle my uncle rather well” Katrina smiled like a shark and I froze at that.
Question. How in the ****** had she found out about that when she had spent all night in the middle of the party with her hands full?
Answer; she was Katrina Steiner. Just … deal with it.
“Well, I just, uh-”
“Stood up for Patrick and Morgan with a surprisingly eloquent speech that shut him up and killed his attempt to try and embarrass me by proxy?” she suggested. “Out of your depth or not, you seem to be able to swim well enough John” she pointed out, staring me down and shutting me up. “Loyalty and natural talent like that is not something I or Hanse are inclined to casually waste by having you sit down in some room trying to remember things for the next decade”.
“You also impressed Ardan with how you operated on the expedition to Helm” Hanse put in from the side. “He genuinely seems to think that you have a future ahead of you in staff work in DMI once you graduate - which would dovetail nicely into your cover”.
“My cover? You - wait a second, graduate?” my thoughts finally caught up with the rapid changes in direction this conversation seemed to be bobsledding through.
“Oh, we’re sending you to Sakhara Academy” Hanse explained, taking a sip of his scotch and making an approving noise at his glass as I just stared at him. “You’ll be leaving on the 27th, taking the command circuit linking me to New Avalon and getting off at Kentares, jumping a few ships to get you there just in time for the 3027 intake. Quintus has already arranged it all through the ‘old boy’s’ network”.
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“Once more?” I finally asked after a long silence, my thoughts coming to the halt with the distinctive sound of a record scratch in the back of my brain.
I couldn’t possibly have heard that right, could I?
“As far as the Sphere is concerned -if they can dig through to the data anyway- you are a MIIO agent who just helped oversee a recovery effort unlike anything seen in recent history, with enough Star League gear to build the core of five Regimental Combat Teams around” Melissa explained to me casually, sitting up and smiling at me. “As a reward for such outstanding service in support of the operation as the represented of Quintus Allard on the ground, being granted a slot as a MechWarrior at prestigious academy is certainly not an uncommon reward. And it would naturally then lend after a tour of duty of you being assigned into DMI, making a highly useful, multi-talented agent”.
“It was actually Melissa's idea” Hanse added with a smile at his fiancé who offered me an unquestionably ‘superior’ little mocking wave. “And while you’ve made your feelings about the ‘Cult of the MechWarrior’, as you called it rather clear, feelings I’ll admit even have some basis in reality, the sad truth is that in the Federated Suns - and the Inner Sphere as a whole- being a MechWarrior is very tightly associated with the nobility. Sakhara will train you both as a MechWarrior and expose you to a lot of the younger nobility in the ‘real world’ in a secure environment which you will network in. It’ll also teach you how the military here thinks which you can compare and contrast in turn. Then, you can get some light field duty after the 4th Succession War ends when you graduate, transfer into an intelligence and command pathway, by which point we would have come up with a neat way to justify giving you an impressive plot of land somewhere and the titles that go with it”.
“Uh…” I managed, blinking several times as my mind tried to follow the logic. “I don’t exactly have a Mech!” I pointed out the first flaw. “And I’ve never used one before, most of the kids going into military training have at least played with their family ‘mechs first” the second point came up. “And” I added finally, “Aren’t I a little bit old to be going to boot?”
Melissa was instantly up to defend her plan like a Gods damned lawyer on cross examination.
“In order; first, given that you just gave us over five hundred of them, I’m sure that we can find one for you. Two; every academy starts with the assumption that you don’t have a clue how to pilot a mech and forces every cadet to go through the same training. Three, yes, but it's also far from unprecedented for older people for varied reasons to go into the military - or at least through training - at ages well past yours for example, assuming they are fit enough. And the fitness reports on you say that you’re more than capable of meeting the entry requirements - the neural scans while you were unconious suggested you won't have any issues using a Neurohelmet. Anything other objections?”
I blinked as that look before wondering if she just wanted me to get to the obvious one. So I did.
“Ultimately. You’re asking me -or more specifically, I’m asking me - if I’m capable of taking up arms, to kill if necessary, in defense of the Federated Commonwealth”.
There, I said it. Would I be able to kill another person?
All the armchair general fun and videogames in the world I knew didn’t a soldier make. Let alone prepare me for taking the life of another human being. There were a lot of combat veterans on Spacebattles whom I’m sure would have jumped at the chance to jump into a giant robot and show these walking tanks who a real combined arms force worked.
But me?
Okay, right here right now, it really became clear that this was not the ****** tabletop. Or a SI fic. Where the SIs generally shrugged and got down to the killing in a 'do or die' situation.
“No-one is ever sure if they can until the times comes John, all the training in the world can’t answer that question” Katrina said quietly, almost gently. “So no, that isn’t the question we’re asking. The question is are you willing to risk your life, if necessary, for the sake of the Federated Commonwealth to protect it against its enemies?”
Huh. Put it that way … even if it sort of sounded like semantics … it was nonetheless surprisingly clear to me.
“Yes” I said after a moment of silent thought, looking up to meet each of their eyes in sequence. Because for all the flaws of this Neo-Feudal system. For all the problems in this idiotic fight over a dead corpse and empty chair that meant nothing, the Federated Commonwealth is the only power with the liberal traditions, defensive depth, industry and unity to have a hope in hell of dealing with what might be coming down the line.
All three seemed to look for something in my eyes. All three seemed to be satisfied they found it.
“Then, in that case” Hanse noted, reaching under the coffee table to pick up a manila folder and pass it across to me. “This, is yours - consider it the first gesture from Katrina and I for what you have done and accomplished for the Suns and the Commonwealth. Merry Christmas”.
I accepted it with a mild thrill of excitement I have to admit - I mean it was essentially a Christmas present from two House Lords. A small sort of smile was on my face as I broke the wax seal and found a single expensive sheet of paper inside, with what appeared to be verigraphed inserts and a single neat few paragraphs of text that I started to read.
Ah crap it looked like a legal document. Oh well, one line at a time.
‘Stated on December the 25th, 3026. Amendment to section 9, paragraph III clause VI is now inserted following clause V’ I read carefully. ‘Stating the following; “That John Smith (Federated Suns identity number 74733-222294-291-555-1119, Lyran Commonwealth identity number 846545S56-356SD-55Z) is hereby given the privilege and right of being’ I paused for a second, my eyes going slightly wide, ‘the first person granted status as a Citizen of the Federated Commonwealth, with identity number 0000-0000-0000-0000-0001. This amendment to be kept secret until January 1, 3050.
This amendment to the Federated Commonwealth Accords agreed to and signed by First Prince Hanse Davion and Archon Katrina Steiner - Verigraph afixed and confirmed below with confirmation keys registered to trustees of these documents-
What the ******?
“You wrote me into the Federated Commonwealth Accords?” I spluttered in numb disbelief, my eyes wide as saucers.
I mean seriously? What? It would be like being written into the Constitution of a country back home!
The ******?
“Surprise!” Melissa grinned. “Actually it's right below my secret clause that Hanse and I are getting hitched” she said. I glanced up from the paper to stare at her as I slowly closed it and handed it back to Hanse.
“Please tell me it doesn’t actually use that language?” I managed as I tried to recover my poise. Even in a symbolic sense, the two of them making me the 'first citizen' as it were of the Federated Commonwealth ... that was big.
“Not really, that's about thirty pages long” Melissa rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised they didn’t go into the mechanics of exactly how Hanse is supposed to throw me onto the bed and-”
“Melissa!” Katrina’s voice cracked in that kind of paternal mortification when their teenage daughter decides to go just a tiny bit too far and Hanse, for the first time in his life seemed to be actually blushing slightly.
The younger Steiner however simply rolled her eyes in that passive-aggressive genetically teenager way of ignoring a parent telling them to behave.
“No matter, we’ll just have to improvise on the wedding night” she muttered, turning a look I could best describe as speculating towards her fiancé … who confronted with his future wife on one side and mother in law on the other, did the smart thing.
“Your enrollment has been confirmed by Sakhara” he said, reaching up to pull another folder out from under the table and handing it over, not looking at his future wife who continued to study him speculatively. “The induction is on the fourteenth of January, so you’ll be leaving on the twenty ninth to make it” he said as I broke the seal and started to read the cover letter. I wasn’t terribly surprised to see that I had been invited on a fully paid admission on the ‘recommendation’ of Quintus Allard. Sakhara was incredibly picky about its admissions, generally only allowing the most wealthy and connected in and even then only on recommendations from its alumni network. And unlike some of the Lyran social clubs that pretended to be military academies for the wealth, Sakhara if anything was fanatical about the excellence it expected from its students.
Justin had in fact graduated from Sakhara, no doubt explaining why Quintus had officially sent the request.
“Why Sakhara?” I asked out of curiosity. “And not Albion or the College of Military Sciences?” After all, they were on New Avalon which was much closer to home and excellent in of themselves…”
“Two reasons” Hanse explained. “One, given your higher profile, having you around on New Avalon - especially at NAIS - risks people talking, even inadvertently and giving things away by adding two and two together; the downside of having far too many smart people in the same building I suppose. Two, security at Sakhara is actually tighter than NAIS. Partially because unlike New Avalon, there are few reasons to bother setting up spy rings and partially because rather significant nobles children pass through, force protection and security is as near to airtight as you can get. We’ll have emergency contact methods in place should you remember something time critical or otherwise needing immediate action, but otherwise Katrina and I are hoping you can just sit out the … shall we say, upcoming events of the next three years?”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from bringing up Justin.
Perhaps it was a good idea that I was going to be sitting most if not all of the 4th Succession War out from the sidelines.
“Makes sense” I agreed after taking it in, offering the trio a quick look, then smiling as a thought occurred. “So, I take it I’m not going to be invited to the wedding?”
Of course you’re not, what kind of stupid question is that John?
“I wish you could be” Katrina said and she sounded genuinely regretful - Melissa also looking slightly downcast at the negative.
Which was a tad bizarre given that I had only met the bride a few hours ago.
“But it would be somewhat incompatible with keeping a low profile. And even as public as such an event is ... do you really want to walk onto ROMs home turf?” she asked?
The shudder that went through my body probably answered that directly enough.
“I’d offer to save you a slice of cake, but it might be a little stale by the time it gets to you” the bride to be shrugged impishly.
I laughed at that one, as from the corner of the room I heard a series of chimes in the classic Westminster pattern. I turned to look and spotted a grandfather clock that seriously looked like it could have come off pre-spaceflight Terra, which finished its chime sequence and started to ring out midnight.
“And that's December 25” Melissa smiled. “Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas” I replied along with the other two adults … and in that moment. I felt something more was called for, closing the folder and tossing it onto the table, before reaching for my tumbler. “And as I’m not going to be present for the wedding - and in honor of your engagement...” I said with a pointed look at Melissa who tilted her head in confusion for a moment … then suddenly realized with a silent ‘oh!’ as she reached into her pocket to pull out her hidden engagement ring … and handed it over to Hanse with a blush. Who in turn quickly put his glass back down to take out the ring … and carefully slide it onto his blushing fiance’s finger before the two retrieved their glasses, standing as I did.
“I’m not terribly good at speeches” I said. “So I’ll make it simple; may your wedding day be glorious, Maximilian Liao's face hilarious and your honeymoon not interrupted by Toaster Worshipers”.
“Hear hear!” the trio laughed and with a tink of very expensive crystal out glasses met as we drank to that offset the final chimes from the clock, Christmas Eve and the last vestiges of my old life sort of faded away … and my new life in formal service to the Federated Commonwealth began.
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Okay so;
1. Forgive me my indulgence at the whole Christmas day thing, it WAS actually when I checked, the most played song on my iPhone of all the Christmas songs, go figure :p
2. I'm sorry if not that much outside of politics happened this chapter, but it was always going to be a political end to this book, not an action one.
3. Except a time jump a year and a bit when I start the first chapter of the next book (the book titled 'I think your toaster is on fire' and the chapter titled 'Misery loves company' in a horrible pun I should feel ashamed at making ... but don't.
4. No I'm not going to give an ETA.
Peace, out :)
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Wonderful to see this back, irritating thing is...what's the Christmas song? :p I'm reading at the moment and will let you know my thoughts when i'm finished but thus far, WONDERFUL! :D
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Excellent concept and writing.
I look forward to more.
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Thanks for this story. It was a good read.
See you in your next book.
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*standing ovations*
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Very great update and amd the speech was very cool when the A###### stood up and tryied to screw things up. getting mr smith out of the way for the next few years is going to different and see how things change a little bit and how they try to keep some butterflys from blowing things up and letting them change other things.
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Your book just get's better with each new chapter.
Excellent job especially the personalities of the people. :beer:
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I'm totally speechless... please, take your time on this... :D
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:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: :clap:
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Wow and for the record I would have not been as cool with Lastrad or the former Archon.
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read all of the latest update last night, absolutely superb! It had me chuckling and even going 'ooooh sheeeeet!' when Mr Smith sassed Katrina. As always, superb stuff with brilliant characterisation.
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read all of the latest update last night, absolutely superb! It had me chuckling and even going 'ooooh sheeeeet!' when Mr Smith sassed Katrina. As always, superb stuff with brilliant characterisation.
Plus the mental image of the Griffin stuck in the ceiling of the throne room after the pilot accidentally hit the jump jets while on guard duty... ;D
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Plus the mental image of the Griffin stuck in the ceiling of the throne room after the pilot accidentally hit the jump jets while on guard duty... ;D
Seyla :D Although i'm still trying to figure out what song it was that was being sung off the Ipod. For a moment I thought it was
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQhuoY5h2kE But whilst I can see Hanse grinning and bopping to it, Katrina would be "Nein!"
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Bravo. Excellent chapter and ending to book one. Looking forward, impatiently, to book two.
Nitpick: You keep referring to Dan Allard as Justin.
" “Thank you, Duke Steiner” Justin extended a hand "
" at his casual use of my name before I quick stepped it to catch up to Justin "
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this was a great story. I can not wait for more. I so can not wait so see how smith and the wolves,with the blackwidow get to meet. any bets on his first mech? i'm betting a Wolfhound with DHS
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Well done! Thanks for sharing. :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:
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Omake, post-Misery
Captain Kerensky: Damn Davion is trolling us.
Colonel Wolf: Why'd you say that?
Captain Kerensky: The units he gave us. 10 Centurion, 10 Valkyrie, bog standard. Ten Longbows, modified with 36 tubes that can fire any missile you care to name; no stravag idea where those came from. The cap is the damn omni-carrier tanks; they can be swapped between SRM, LRM, and light autocannon loadouts.
Colonel Wolf: Omni?
Captain Kerensky: Remember Quentin IV?
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Omake, post-Misery
Captain Kerensky: Damn Davion is trolling us.
Colonel Wolf: Why'd you say that?
Captain Kerensky: The units he gave us. 10 Centurion, 10 Valkyrie, bog standard. Ten Longbows, modified with 36 tubes that can fire any missile you care to name; no stravag idea where those came from. The cap is the damn omni-carrier tanks; they can be swapped between SRM, LRM, and light autocannon loadouts.
Colonel Wolf: Omni?
Captain Kerensky: Remember Quentin IV?
:D :D :D :D love it!!!!
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Tis must be Dead Tree'd!
TT
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Hi Guys.
Progress on the first chapter of the next book is good, I'm hoping next weekend will be the publish date.
I am also, after some voting on Spacebattles, writing an interlude of sorts between the books (which will be published before the next chapter). This interlude will NOT be an SI chapter, but a more classic multi-POV chapter as it were, my theory is that each book will have a non SI point of view chapter between them to give a little bit of a different point of view of the going on's in the universe and how some impacts of the SIs changes may be being felt.
I put five titles of five possible interludes to a vote, most of which were pretty unhelpful in trying to determine what they would be about. The highest voted title being the only one that was actually pretty clear; 'You may use the garden!'
The second placed one a lot of people correctly suspected was about some hints I had dropped about the Grey Death Legion and what would happen to them in this timeline, with in the last chapter previously posted a throw away line by Hanse giving a vague sort of hint.
However while I intend to only write the winning interlude, Rogue_Vector over on spacebattles asked for permission to write out the GDL one and did a pretty damn fantastic job. So I'm posting it here as well - its very much considered canon for this story.
Enjoy!
Marauder Bill’s Bar
Galatea, Lyran Commonwealth
December 28th, 3027
As time moved to close with the New Years, Captain Grayson Death Carlyle accepted his third drink.
He wasn’t drowning his sorrows, per se.
The mercenary commander took a pull from the ice water - a drink which had jokingly become his ‘regular’ here - as he watched the mercenaries of the Gray Death Legion kill time at Marauder Bill’s bar: Davis McCall’s scouse accent was cutting through the din as he took the lead in a game of darts with Jessica Hastings, while his executive officer Lori Kalmar sat quietly in the corner furthest away from the fireplace that kept the room warm. Grayson had left this bar years before with just a little under two hundred mercenaries at his command; infantrymen, techs, drivers, mechwarriors and all. Now he had come back with nearly triple that number, and dependents besides.
The Verthandi campaign had unfolded into a disorganized series of guerrilla battles and knife-edge clashes which had pushed the fledgling mercenary command to its limits. Even though he’d lost so much over the course of that campaign, they had gained much from Verthandi; not just personnel swelling his ranks with experienced, blooded troops but also with warmachines: his recently acquired Marauder for one, formerly a weapon of terror wielded by the Draconis Combine, now one of the heaviest ‘mechs in his rosters. Meanwhile, Lori had picked up his Shadow Hawk, and while the rest tended to be lights, even the Wasps and Stingers he had liberated from the Draco forces were a welcome sight to the growing mercenary unit… once they had properly painted over the dragon iconography.
More than that, the parts, salvage, and acquisitions earned on Verthandi had seeded the growth of the Legion even further once he had returned to Galatea, the unit’s TOE swelling to finally fill out a full company of 'mechs and nearly a company more: in truth there were enough MechWarriors signing on with him that he’d nearly have a full battalion if every competent pilot could be partnered with a machine to match, though that was easier said than done.
His other forces, meanwhile, would fill out the roster for an entire mixed regiment; between just over two infantry companies captained by Ramage and the recently acquired armor company headed by Baron, the unit would have qualified as a short regiment if they had been able to take the profits of the Marik contract and use it to hire on even more recruits.
If.
That line of thought brought Grayson back to his current predicament; after the success of Verthandi, the Gray Death Legion had cooled their heels ever since their return to the Mercenary Star of Galatea: repairing, training, hiring as Grayson had gone from embassy to office, rumor mill to upscale bar in search of a new job. Clients were consulted, stool pigeons shaken, and bribes were paid. With his larger force and the foundations of a solid reputation, it hadn’t taken more than a few months before he had lined up a nice contract with the Free Worlds League, away from the borders of the Draconis Combine. An extended contract for sure; years of raiding and garrison duty was ahead of him, but there was the promise of a landhold at the end of it.
Helm.
Helm, the same planet that had been on the holovid casts.
Blake’s beard, they had a Star League cache there!
The Christmas Party at the Triad had been broadcast almost all throughout the Lyran Commonwealth and no doubt the Federated Suns too.
To most mercs, it was simply the blue bloods showing off their wealth.
For Grayson, it had been the final piece of the puzzle, explaining so much about why he had suddenly lost contact with the League hiring hall, and why his contact’s secretary had politely pretended that she had no idea who the Lyran-born mercenary was, despite the fact that she had slipped him her contact number a week ago.
A bloody Castle Brian. It had almost driven him to (actual) drink as he watched a military analysis of the cache’s size; speculation had ran rampant as one of the channels described the number and size of the dropships that had been diverted to the Victoria Steiner Military Reserve. Regiments of equipment had landed in addition to the mentioned Kell Hounds and Davion Heavy Guards. Of course, the prospect of finding - and more importantly, keeping - that particular pile of LosTech would have propelled him up to the same lofty heights as the Wolf’s Dragoons, Eridani Light Horse or… wait, why had the bar suddenly gone quiet?
“Grayson?”
The merc only knew one man who would call him that outside of the Gray Death Legion; many negotiators had styled themselves as part of the militaries they represented, while a rare breed - like the man currently in the room - preferred to take a more civilian approach.
Piter Simmons was, by all appearances, an impeccable businessman; the Suns representative had cultivated his reputation as a negotiator of the highest caliber with his flawlessly tailored suits, subdued colors and his ever-present leather briefcase (which many had openly speculated to have some kind of LosTech devices inside). There was little doubt that he was well connected among the AFFS, who often sought him out as their middleman.
But rather than the calm, neutral expression that was as ever-present as his pressed white shirt, there was a tinge of suspicion and worry in the man’s eyes as he sat down and set his briefcase on the bar.
“What did you do, Grayson?” Piter asked the captain, wonder in his eyes.
The younger man - easily half Piter’s age - didn’t know the first thing to answering that question. “I beg your pardon, Piter? I… I’m not sure what you’re asking about.” Grayson tried avoid sounding like a child who had had been caught with his hand inside the proverbial cookie jar.
“I hire people, Grayson.” Piter explained, thumb moving to the archaic - and deceptively simple - combination lock on his briefcase. “Usually, I am given a broad understanding of the size, composition and disposition of the mercenaries that I am tasked to hire. Then I’m to seek out and hire those same mercenaries.”
Click click! The two metal snap-locks popped free.
“Now, imagine my surprise when I am given a contract for a defensive garrison posting… along with quite extraordinary requirements for the mercenary unit to fulfil it. Extraordinarily specific requirements.”
Piter produced a small glasses case and opened them up, settling the thin, black framed reading glasses on his nose as he began to read.
“I was sent a request for a mercenary command, of a battlemech regimental strength and mixed composition. Defensive garrison posting, standard contract otherwise… with payment in the form of a landhold and title to go with it.”
Not an uncommon sight on Galatea, Grayson thought, yet his interest perked at the offer of a landhold. Well, perked was something of an understatement; poker face be damned, it was the one thing short of being offered the lives of his men and women back that really drew his interest; a landhold. A home. It was a dream that his father had chased… that he in turn inherited once he had made himself a mercenary. Grayson was familiar with the nomadic lifestyle of a soldier-for-hire. Hell, it was pretty much the only one he knew. The regiment was your home. But to be able to settle down and have a home for the regiment?
Piter smiled; the man was well aware of Grayson’s goals.
“The unit’s history of service to include both defensive and offensive operations, with an emphasis in combined arms and guerrilla warfare…”
Which was the Gray Death Legion’s history in summary.
“... and, most importantly, commanded by one Grayson Carlyle. That is non-negotiable, I’m afraid.”
“What.” Grayson leaned over to read, manners forgotten, but Piter was more than happy to flip the page and hand it to him.
Someone had singled him out. Grayson scanned the document. It even included the Gray Death Legion’s emblem! A landhold contract, with garrison duty rather than having to go out and claim said landhold…
“This can’t be real.” He murmured. A prank was far beyond Piter’s sensibilities, no matter how fake they may have been.
“I assure you it very much is. I asked for double authentication to make sure of that.” Piter nodded. “Which makes me wonder, Grayson, what your unit did to deserve such… attention.”
“I…” Grayson racked his brains for who might possibly want him for? Who in the Federated Suns would… “Blake’s beard, Piter, am I seeing what I think that is?”
“Yes, that is the seal of House Davion. Not a baron with a moon mining operation. Not a planetary duke. Not a March Lord. Hence my rudeness earlier, for which I do hope you’ll forgive me.” The man nodded. “It’s rather rare that House Davion asks for my services so directly.”
Grayson shook his head slowly. “Piter, I have no idea what this is about.”
“I’d imagine so. Impressive as the Verthandi insurgency was, I doubt that report would have swayed the First Prince’s opinion of your unit. Yet here we are.”
“Yet here we are.” The merc agreed. “While I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I do have to ask...”
“I’m glad to hear that. I don’t doubt the horse’s pedigree, mind you, but she’s still in the stables, so to speak. Let’s bring her out for a trot.” Piter smiled, amused and unoffended, as he pulled out more paperwork.
Grayson accepted the papers and began to read them.
His jaw slowly slid down the front of his shirt. Generous didn’t begin to describe the terms of this contract; the pay for making raids into Draco space weren’t stellar, but that was the only complaint he could put forward, especially compared to the downright predatory terms Marik had been offering him. Mercenaries of all stripes would kill for this sheet of paper, to be the one that claimed the contract, if only it hadn’t specified Grayson and his unit.
He checked the posting and his breath hitched. “Marduk… that’s a world on the Draconis March.”
“Yes, the AFFS liberated the world in 2818. It’s currently held by the Marduk Militia - they’re experienced but understrength, so House Davion has put up an extraordinarily specific contract that you are… uniquely… qualified to handle.”
Both Trellwan and Verthandi had showed him the brutality the Draconis Combine was willing - and more than eager - to inflict upon a planet’s population. His hatred of them had simmered from the heat it once was; he wasn’t eager to begin a crusade against the Dracos, but to be able to deny them the opportunities to raid a world? Several worlds?
Grayson read on.
“The garrison contract is only part of the parcel, but the most extensive: it will be a five year rolling contract with options to renegotiate postings after the first three years. There are also clauses for raiding or defensive actions within a two-jump radius of Marduk and Hoff. Additional clauses allow for independent actions as long as I have enough forces staying to maintain a defensive posture on my primary posting. A defensive force of at least two battlemech battalions.” Grayson read. “I’ll have to recruit.”
Piter nodded. “The contract does provide a signing on bonus of half a million C-Bills to cover transportation to Marduk. I imagine some of that may be used to hire on additional contractors. Payment will be in quarterly installments and standard fifty-fifty salvage agreements with the option to sell or purchase, as well as in the form of a landhold on Hoff - while not the entire planet itself, but your holdings will be adjacent to the Friden Aerospace Park and, I can reassure you, well outside of its usual testing ranges. I am at liberty to say that there used to be a BattleMech storage and repair facility in that area that’s been included in the landhold. With the demi-battalion of techs you have, I’m sure your unit could make use of it as part of their holdings.”
Not to mention make a secondary income from repairing others’ equipment there. He could, with care and some luck, make a Mercenary Star in microcosm there as smaller mercenary units passed through for repairs, sale of salvage or even just to cool their heels after operations.
Another sheet of paper was given to the stunned merc commander.
“There’s also provision for partial preferential customer benefits with Norse BattleMech Works, which are based on Marduk; I hear their Wolverines and Griffins are quite popular chassis.” Piter smiled, and at this point someone dropped a drink in the background, the glass (which was supposedly carved from the cockpit glass of battlemechs) rattling around as it fell to the floor. Mercenaries being used to guard an objective was not unheard of, but to have them guard a BattleMech factory was… prestigious.
“Of course. I’ll have to have my lawyer look at it, first.” Grayson nodded, scanning the more detailed minutiae of the papers, he glanced upstairs to where no doubt his first pick of lawyer was ready to make more money; a lawyer was one of those things that a mercenary unit needed almost as much as battlemechs, and he had made sure to hire well.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Nodded Piter, who smiled fondly at the much younger man. “These are verified copies. I’ll have the originals in my office - you know where I am - so simply tell Alice to send you through and we’ll finalize things there.”
Grayson nodded mutely, still re-reading the outline of the contract.
A landhold. A home.
“I must thank you for this, Grayson. I’m sure my employer will be thrilled that I’ve convinced you to accept the contract so quickly.” Piter smiled, completely sincere. “I will also mention, that my services are open should you be looking to expand your unit outside of… local hires… from Hoff or Marduk. You have my card, of course?”
“Yes.” He murmured distractedly, before shaking himself back into focus. “Thank you for the offer, Piter. I’ll make sure to stay in touch.”
“Glad to hear it, Grayson.” Piter smiled much like the Fox he represented. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
Grayson watched as Piter methodically - to the point of ritual - packed up his briefcase, picked up his hat and walked out into the evening with a brief ‘happy new years’.
He turned to see that all of the room’s eyes were on him. Even more were peeking from the stairs and - Grayson looked upwards - through the floorboards of the silent bar.
“Cap’n.” Davis’ Scots-Terran accent was the first to break the silence. “Wha’ have ye done... an’ can ye do i’ more often?”
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Very, very good. :thumbsup:
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nice update.. looking forward to more. nice to see the GDL getting some love. real love
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Wonderful! And when someone said "Greyson." I thought oooh fight time!
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ooooh
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they don't get new toys, and the core. but they don't get the crap kicked out of them again. Do they still have to two droppers?
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Davis summed it up perfectly. :thumbsup:
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and without the warcrime/death sentence from Comstar/FWL thier history is clear
I still dont know how they got called unreliable before the Glengarry fight
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Interesting new story
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It really does help to know what is going on elsewhere in Mayberry...
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Nice but early on Davis McCall is described as having a scouse accent, that is Liverpool-area rather than Scottish
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Nice to see this get updated even if it is with a vignette about the GDL and their potential future due to the "butterflies."
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in the immortal words of Data "It's Green" as i imagine him reaching for a bottle of romulan ale
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You realize that was a tip to Scotty saying the same thing in TOS
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i do
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Just read all the way to the end of this story, amazing work.
Now the fun question will be if he has a quiet time at school (especially when discussing his background), or if it will be glossed over via montage?
You know someone at the school will be figuring out that John Smith is a fake name, so is he a noble child who is trying to hide history, a noble's bastard son who got a trust fund and a little pull to attend, or a commoner whose family has enough money to hide his background and use the obviously fake name? The smarter ones might figure that trying to find the history of someone with an obviously fake name would be bad for their health.
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I've been following him on Spacebattles.com, and it seems we could see a new chapter this week or next, mostly glossing over his time at Sakahara. Something about having enough characters introduced already.
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The new chapter is up on SB!
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The new chapter is up on SB!
any one have a link to this?
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Yeah, Red Pins... linkys are always a click away for us non readers!
:))
TT
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Just found it again. https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-225#post-51608389 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-225#post-51608389) I'd prefer it if Chris did it, mind you, so this is the last time I steal his thunder.
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i am having a hard time reading the story there.
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Use the Threadmarks; go to the first page of the thread with the page numbers at the top or bottom of the page, click the 1rst page (because he started the thread, and the first post will have the list of pages), then click either the arrows for the next/last chapter or the box for the list of chapters. The newest is Chapter 11, at the bottom.
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o.O 259 PAGES? HOLY F...udge nuggets. OK I read the segment (very impressive) but why has he not posted that story portion here? Oh wait, all that profanity he has to edit...
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For those wondering why the most recent update has not been posted here, Chris explains it here (https://forums.spacebattles.com/posts/51757586/).
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For those wondering why the most recent update has not been posted here, Chris explains it here (https://forums.spacebattles.com/posts/51757586/).
That sucks... may he get it back.
TT
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Yeah, I left a post saying I posted a link. Hope he didn't loose all his research like I did once.
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If he rebuilt his computer, he probably saved his data, but not the cookies, so when he reinstalled windows the cookies were gone and with them the password.
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...Doesn't everybody keep the little site book with U/PWs? I know I do.
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Most people don't.
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I use specialized number and letter sequences from my favorite tv show. Each has an associated noun which makes remembering them easy and I can look them up if I forget. If I do have to write iit down I use the noun so even then if someone else finds the list they still don't have the password.
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He can always email me, or a moderator, and we can reset it for him.
W.
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My password is from my favorite movie...
Like I'm gonna tell you! xp
TT
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I have been enjoying the 3-5 seperate sub threads going on
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Looks like Sakahara is going to get the Jihad treatment early.
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I have been enjoying the 3-5 seperate sub threads going on
Got a link to those? :D
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its the same link but the primary reason the thing is almost 300 pages long is multiple posters running semi related conversations in the thread
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And totally unrelated as well.
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And totally unrelated as well.
Sounds like nobody's driving the topic bus on that forums?
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Well it looks like the Mods on SB locked the thread by Chris's request. I'm not surprised considering that not only were some posters veering far-afield with topics but some others were getting into some very questionable territory that some would consider inappropriate.
Hopefully, Chris can get his password reset and start posting here again. We might go on tangents with comments, but we generally stay away from the real chuckle-head stuff that dances across the line of tactfulness.
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Or he could just post a story-only thread like MA did with his. But, whatever.
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OOOH, it seems Chris has another 20,000 words he's cutting up into chapters - I keep thinking about how I'd use formed plastic explosive and a pressure switch to keep Jamie and his whole staff in their chairs while I ask him how the weather is on Strana Mechty and interrupt Natasha to finish her sentence, "...And learn why they call me the Black Widow!" in a little old ladies voice. >:D
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OOOH, it seems Chris has another 20,000 words he's cutting up into chapters - I keep thinking about how I'd use formed plastic explosive and a pressure switch to keep Jamie and his whole staff in their chairs while I ask him how the weather is on Strana Mechty and interrupt Natasha to finish her sentence, "...And learn why they call me the Black Widow!" in a little old ladies voice. >:D
The thread is still locked on Spacebattles, per his request. Are we missing something in translation here?
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Well, I'd love to unlock his account here, but he needs to drop me an email.
W.
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The thread is still locked on Spacebattles, per his request. Are we missing something in translation here?
As of this post, it's open, because I just finished the next chapter. Ho-lee... Tied to an ergonomic chair and slapped repeatedly with a printed copy of Kerlin Ward's last orders, indeed.
Well, I'd love to unlock his account here, but he needs to drop me an email.
W.
...
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Jameson must have done a spit-take when he scanned the MAD.
And its a very good thing Natasha wasn't in the room!
Page 285 has Chapter 12.
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And as a public service announcement the direkt link to chapter on the spacebattles thread:
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-285#post-52306132 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-285#post-52306132)
I apologize if this is going against some crossed t's and dotted i's of the forum rules ... spank me then, mods ;)
Those spacebattles threadmarks are surely useful, though ;D
Best Regards,
Christian
Aunt Edith modified for typos
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being able to listen to the text while typing (Right Click -> Read aloud) :D is very awesome. Hearing the word "Han-Se"? Priceless... loved the STK double take on our Hero's MAD :D "Gear-Yo!" Roflcopter...
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okay at the start of the 4SW what could the WD field in our timeline. I know they were on three planets and that was what K hit. this AU has them at 2.5 RGTs. how does that compare with RTL?
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okay at the start of the 4SW what could the WD field in our timeline. I know they were on three planets and that was what K hit. this AU has them at 2.5 RGTs. how does that compare with RTL?
IIRC they were down to one combined-arms regiment in the end.
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IIRC they were down to one combined-arms regiment in the end.
so it looks like the WD will be almost three times as powerful in the 4th SW. that will help them.... later. they still will have to "rebuild" those three Mech REGTS but, that is all about spare parts. then bring back the other two or three with new machines. Zeta would make a nasty Regt unit.
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Plus saving all the families, that's going to make rebuilding a lot more workable.
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IIRC they were down to one combined-arms regiment in the end.
1 regiment at the end of SW4. At the start of SW4 all five regiments were in theory active, Alpha and beta with 5 'provisional companies', whatever those are, and the others with 4 each
Reference, OTP death to mercenaries.
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Someone can correct me but I thought the WD had clan mechs and other equipment still with their warships in the periphery.
I remember that's where Colonel Wolf's son was killed. So would they not go get it now that they are known as clan.
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Someone can correct me but I thought the WD had clan mechs and other equipment still with their warships in the periphery.
I remember that's where Colonel Wolf's son was killed. So would they not go get it now that they are known as clan.
Warships and advanced units that wouldn't have fit in with the stuff from the IS. And they might give the FC those Warships under the right circumstances. Does anybody else remember they had techs able to use ComStar's HPG? If Hanse can capture those HPGs like he did the canon timeline, he might be able to start getting them operation with their help.
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Does anybody else remember they had techs able to use ComStar's HPG? If Hanse can capture those HPGs like he did the canon timeline, he might be able to start getting them operation with their help.
Yes the Dragoons do have techs capable of using HPGs - there was a scenario in BattleTroops with Dragoon infantry holding the HPG grounds while a tech sends a message. I think it was for the Seventh Kommando capturing the An Ting HPG so they could send the Hegira message after the ISF tried to capture the Hephaestus station in An Ting.
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Next time John Smith meets Natasha Kerensky, it should be in a more casual setting, where he and others are commenting about how she keeps setting top scores in practice ranges. This way he can make the comment, "you're quite the Star, Colonel," and let Natasha figure out if he left out the comma.
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Too late for that - already revealed that knows about the Clan origin of the Dragoons - see last chapter.
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Do we know if a new thread for this story has started up somewhere?
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He had the thread at spacebattles unlocked. I gave instructions on how to find it and read it, there should be a link on a previous page.
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Hey the password reset function is working again :p
I’ll post the next few chapters tonight. After a post work party thing :)
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Okay, so one sidestory time and then back to the next chapter!
I'm planning at the end of each of the books to then have one interlude from a different non-SI point of view to break it up. This is the one for the break between these two books - I had put it to a vote on SB from a number of choices. Think I'll make the vote over here next time. Although a nice chap (as we saw posted earlier) put his hand up to write the GDL possibility and it was more than good enough for me to canonize it.
Anyway, here is 'You may use the Garden...'
Unity Palace, Imperial City, Luthien
Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine
28 August 3027
Alone on the Balcony of his palace, with only the whispers of the night wind to keep him company, the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine could pretend he was simply Takashi Kurita.
For a time.
Yet even in the peace of night, beyond the walls of the palace Imperial City pulsed with energy and activity. The factories, government buildings and military bases on this world formed the heart of the Draconis Combine; a heart that never stopped beating. So too were the webs of Jumpships and dropships above the Combines veins and arteries. Sending the strength of House Kurita out along the length and breadth of the Dragons realm … and spreading corruption, disease and weakness in turn.
The Lord of the Draconis Combine did not sigh or otherwise show weakness at that thought, even here. Even alone. But he did fold his arms into his robe and allow the evening breeze to wash over him, returning his gaze from the sky to the Imperial Garden below as he allowed his mind to dwell on the events that had just played out.
Minutes ago, Jamie Wolf and his party had crossed the perfectly tendered gardens, returning to where their vehicles waited to take them back to their dropship. It had disappointed him that the Colonel had not taken the rare opportunity to appreciate the gardens as he moved through them. Painstakingly sculpted down to the smallest detail, they were possibly the finest such work anywhere in the Inner Sphere. From up here, the ground level chaos and seemingly random mixing and meshing suddenly shifted into a breathtakingly intricate order and balance that was hard to perceive at ground level. Jamie Wolf, unfortunately it seemed, had blazed through the gardens and only seen the clashing without the subtleties of harmony teased through it. Not seeing how one must give for the other to take and how stability and unity of purpose was achieved in the larger picture with balance in all things.
Although Takashi would admit -very- privately, that the clear displeasure hanging around the Mercenary was understandable. If misplaced.
He and Wolf had remained silent for most of an hour as the Warlord of Galerdon had furiously ranted and accused, seemingly blind to his liege’s displeasure at his skirting the very edge of what could be tolerated and perhaps just a little beyond that as he charged the Dragoons with everything short of treason.
And only then because it was difficult to accuse paid soldiers for hire of that.
Subtlety had never been Grieg Samsonovs greatest strength.
Sadly, the tangled web of politics that was the Draconis Combine meant that tolerance had to be extended to him. A Warlord, even Samsonov, was power in the Combine. And for all his ego and coveting of yet more power, there was no denying that as an administrator he had few peers as he kept his district operating with great efficiency giving him a powerbase few could match. Yet his abrasive nature ensured that outside his district he was little threat given how much contempt he held for his peers and vice versa.
And a Mercenary commander, even the legendary Jamie Wolf, was but a passing player in this game.
He had hoped going into this meeting that Wolf would understand that. Had hoped that by letting Samsonov rant … then dismissing his demands with a casual indifference that had made the Warlords face turn a most interesting shade of purple for a moment, that Wolf would understand the Dragoons retained his support. And understand most of all that he spoke truly and honestly when he had told him that the Combine was truly the only logical place for a Samuraii of Wolf’s statue to call home.
Instead Wolf had almost coldly noted that true leaders could be judged by their subordinate’s actions. Rejecting without formally rejecting his suggestion for new contract terms and liaison officers to try and set things right.
It was clear to him in that moment that the relationship between the Dragoons and Combine had been damaged and set on a course he had not wished. His instructions to his varied servants had been to work to tie the Dragoons firmly to the Combine as their contract approached the end of its running term. To encourage them to see the Combine as their true and permanent home. After all, to have such skilled warriors as a permanent part of the Dragon would have enormously strengthened the Combine in the face of the growing strategic uncertainty of this alliance between Davion and Steiner. An alliance counterbalanced by … less than reliable allies in his Concord partners.
Unfortunately, possibly inevitably, it seemed that different viewpoints and agendas as to what those orders had meant had crashed into each other and poisoned Wolf against them all.
Samsonovs clearly wanted the Dragoons soldiers and mechs for his own, even if he hid his intentions behind a supposed concern for the Combine as a whole. Which clearly meant destroying the Dragoons as an institution, starting by dealing with their leadership - probably hoping to take them as hostages - before scattering the subunits into ever smaller chunks where they could be finally digested.
Apparently, the fool had never read up on the famous unit’s history. Anton Marik had tried a similar ploy and Takashi was entirely sure that the Black Widow would barely need encouragement to give the Dragoons traditional response to such a crude tactic. Indeed, if his Warlord continued poking and prodding at the Dragoons leadership, it could be that Kerensky might well take matters into her own hands and Buddah have mercy on Samsonov because she certainly would not...
His own efforts to quietly convince the Dragoons to make their permanent home in the Combine with both subtle pressure and careful methods had thus been stymied by the heavy-handed efforts of the Warlord, but all he could do now was let the cards fall as they would. Samsonovs impatience was bringing matters to a head too quickly with the Dragoons, who were still far too strong to be overtly pressured. And should it come to the Dragoons deciding to blast their way out of the Combine?
But he had little choice but to follow where the Warlord led unless he wished to risk challenging he or his peers, who may hate Samsonov, but tended to close ranks if the Coordinator moved for a threat to one was a threat to all unless that one had clearly and grievously overstepped…
Still. Perhaps his Warlord could be yet … reminded ... that there were consequences for acting rashly?
Takashi let his gaze once again return to the horizon as with a distant thunder, a bright star slowly ascended from the nearby military spaceport; a dropship returning to the stars. He could not tell from this distance of course, but he was reasonably certain that it was the Chieftain, Command Ship of Jamie Wolf. Clearly eager to return to his regiment and of no mood to accept his offer of hospitality.
It would be a long trip though. The return trip to An Ting would take the Dragoons considerably longer than the one that brought them to Luthien as there would be no Command Circuit of JumpShips waiting to ferry their DropShip quickly from one jump point to the next. This time, they would have to wait while their JumpShip recharged its drives at each stop along the way.
Messages via HPG however were considerably faster, taking days instead of weeks to cross such distances. Which gave time for messages to pass from Luthien to An Ting and the situation to be … shaped before Jamie Wolf returned.
So-ka. What would that situation be?
Again, the age-old conflict: ninjo or giri. It was ever a choice between his feelings for others, which was the way his heart would lead him, and the inexorable call of obligation. And while he had a choice … the Dragon did not. The Dragons duty was to protect his House and his realm and do what he must to improve its place in the order of things. It was that simple, if hard.
With that final grave thought Takashi turned and walked back into the palace and down the flight of stairs from the meeting room, passing only members of the Otomo until he arrived at a sliding door. Outside of which waited Subhash Indrahar.
“All is ready Lord” he said after bowing to his Liege and friend. Looking as always like the wise but harmless uncle with his thick framed glasses, beard and moustache, Takashi knew full well that the man's utter ruthlessness was matched only by his loyalty to the Dragon. Hence, his success in achieving what was intended for this evening, without any of the players on the board any the wiser of it.
He nodded his thanks and with that, the ISF director slid the paper screen back silently to allow entrance, closing it behind them in turn.
This room was directly under the impressive reception room he had received the Warlord and Mercenary Commander in, but it was far less glitz and glamour and far more traditional Japanese in style. A simple wooden floor and oaken walls lined with sliding paper screens (that were of course not paper but looked like it despite being bulletproof and soundproof) with the far screen open to the night and garden beyond. On the floor two long tatami mats and one smaller one topped with a handwoven rug of a snarling scarlet Dragon were set with exquisite placement; the smaller at the head of the room and the longer pair running down its length away from it. The Coordinator moved to and calmly knelt on the Dragon, Subhash taking position on the edge of the tatami behind and slightly to his right with not even a whisper of sound.
There they remained for several minutes, their eyes closed as they centered themselves … before without a sound or gesture visible, they opened their eyes in perfect synchronization and as if it was some signal to a hidden servant, the far screen slid open.
Grieg Samsonov had managed to calm himself down somewhat from his fury to the point that he almost looked calm. He entered the room on edge however, with his face something of a mask, having no Gajian present to excuse his rage. Having stormed out the meeting to return home, he had been bid to wait then to enter this room … and now found himself again face to face with his liege … and the ISF director.
Suffice to say through history, more than one high ranking Combine officer had walked into such a meeting and not walked out.
The warlord at least had the dignity (or shrewdness) to bow deeply to the Dragon on entering, holding it perhaps overlong. A gesture calculated to show contrition - or the appearance of such - for his borderline disrespect upstairs?
Takashi gave him an exactly appropriate nod in return, gesturing him with a minimal wave to a mat on his right as the screen whispered shut behind him. His aide Jerry Akuma in turn took the que from the ISF director to take a similar position behind and slightly to his right, the loyal and calm servant to his master.
Or perhaps playing the loyal and calm servant to his master? Takashi quietly wondered, the ISFs reports on the man divided as to his true intentions. But that was something for another day.
Silence reigned once more as Takashi waited silently. He could tell from the impatient twitching on his body that this inaction grated upon the Warlord, but not even Samsonov would dare speak before the Coordinator did without being invited to do so, clearly thinking this was some kind of test or punishment.
Which left him clearly surprised when the same screen Takashi had used to enter the room now opened up without warning … and Hirushi Shotugama entered the room, followed by his own aide.
Takashi easily perceived the shock both men tried to hide as they were confronted with each other’s unexpected presence before Shotugama quickly recovered and bowed deeply to his liege. Takashi again returned the bow and gestured to his left and the Warlord of Benjamin took his place. Forced, by sitting directly opposite Shotugama to stare at him as he stared back, Samsonovs contempt for the newest Warlord was subtle but quite clear to him while Shotugama merely waited for his Coordinators pleasure to begin.
But again, Takashi merely sat in silence.
An appropriate time later the first screen opened once more and now Vasily Cherenkoff entered. Once again, there was that subtle shock and once again after paying homage to their Liege, the Warlord and his aide took their places. Followed soon after by Kester Hsiun-Chi, Warlord of Pesht and his aide, each man in turn clearly not expecting his peers to be present. Each wondering how they had been gathered without their own intelligence networks picking up on it, each wondering what this unannounced meeting of the most powerful men in the Inner Sphere was about.
Finally, Ivan Sorensen entered, he took his place next to Samsonov. Alone of the Warlords here, he knew why they were here and thus why of all his close aides, he brought with him the man sitting behind him.
Takashi then closed his eyes and remained in perfect stillness for several minutes, giving absolutely no indication of his thoughts as he felt the currents flowing through the room. The bombastic impatience of Samsonov, the cool calculation of Shotugama. The curiosity and concern of the rest … and the hint of fear from the man sitting behind Sorensen as he rubbed his fingers together under the sleeves of his robes.
It was time.
“I have called you all here this evening to discuss recent events in the Davion-Steiner alliance” Takashi started finally as he opened his eyes, causing all attention to instantly draw to him.“I am sure you have all seen the broadcast regarding the Helm affair?”
There were nods around the room at that. Which was unsurprising given that the Fox had broadcasted his gloating across the Inner Sphere alongside Steiner. The information had, of course, been tightly controlled in the Combine and his Warlords had been told to simply ignore it for now while the ISF investigated.
He was sure most of them -if not all of them- had carefully ignored that directive but little probably had been learned with their enemies exercising ruthless operational security.
“Director?”
“Hai” Indrahar replied, shuffling forward carefully and bowing deeply to first the Coordinator and then the room, before offering one of his famous smiles and getting to work.
“The ISF has spent considerable time reviewing intelligence before and after the Helm operation and has managed to come to a broadly complete picture of the operation and aftermath. The best information we have is that this was indeed a surprisingly rash action from Davion and Steiner, organized ‘on the fly’ in response to external factors that drove them to do what they could with what they had available. But despite the haste of action, the operation was unfortunately a considerable success for them”.
“Do we have further information on what Davion and Steiner recovered from the cache?” Cherenkoff was first off the mark asking the question clearly on the mind of every Warlord from the way they ever so slightly edged forward on their mats, clearly wondering what Star League Lostech might be pointed at their districts.
“Total lift tonnage on the cargo dropships that arrived at Tharkad is something in excess of three quarters of a megaton” the ISF Director stated calmly and every Warlord winced at that number but remained silent as the ISF director laid out the nightmare for them. “SAFE investigation of the landing zones on Helm as well as footage brought from a trader at the Tharkad zenith point suggests they were loaded at or close to capacity. Additionally, the Heavy Guards also offloaded many armored personnel carriers and destroyed them, presumably to make room on their troop transports for vehicles from the cache. Steiner and Davion are playing their cards very close to their chest, but the best estimates we’ve collated from our sources suggest the most likely scenario is roughly two Mech regiments and two vehicle regiments. With the vast bulk of the cache contents left behind by Kerensky being spare parts and components”.
There was a furious intake of breath at that from the Warlord to his immediate right.
“That … that is enough war material for Davion to replace all the non-recoverable Mech losses we have inflicted on him over the last year! At a stroke!” Samsonov snarled, his gaze furious as he looked around the room for someone to blame for such an outrage. “And enough spare parts to have his Techs rebuilding entire Regiments of broken machines!”
“I presume that this material will be divided equally between Davion and Steiner?” Cherenkoff both queried the ISF Director and indirectly chided Samsonov, earning him a baleful stare. But as Vasily had opened the discussion and not addressed him directly, it was his right to redirect it as such and the Warlord of Galedon held his tongue. “And we can presume that there will be both political and military concerns over the division and deployment of the equipment?”
Indrahar offered a brief bow to the Warlord.
“All indicators are that the Archon and First Prince achieved an equitable split of the war material, yes. As for what will be done operationally with the equipment, we have contradictory reports that my agents are carefully working through to determine what is rumored and false, but we expect it more likely that the equipment will be used to repair and rebuild damaged units as both Davion and Steiner have a great many frontline units operating at less than full strength”.
“Then until such information becomes available, I would suggest our primary concern should be what possible Lostech has been delivered into the hands of the thrice cursed NAIS an the long term threat” Sorensen suggested with a glance at Cherenkoff, gaining a slight nod from him and a murmur of consensus from the other Warlords.
“That is the question I have reserved my best people for” Indrahar divulged, offering Sorensen a shallow bow. “However, the most interesting information we have, information I trust but must note cannot be yet verified, tells us that Hanse Davion has ultimately declared this entire operation a failure”.
There was dead silence in the room, even Samsonov looked genuinely taken aback at this pronouncement. A perfectly executed objective raid with minimal losses to the covering raids, humiliation for the enemies of the Sun's with measurable gains on a scale rarely seen materially and politically … and the Fox considered it a failure?
“The equipment recovered from Helm were, but trinkets compared to the true prize hidden there” Takashi spoke up once more, gaining attention, his face a stony mask as he -and not for the first time in recent months- silently cursed his ancestors rash actions. Actions inconveniently brought back into the light by the Free Worlds League media in the aftermath of the raid.
But he pushed such thoughts aside. It was the worst of all wastes of time, wishing about what could have been...
“We have learned that Davion’s men discovered in the raid, deep inside the cache, a Star League data core of unprecedented scope. The SLDF officer who hid the cache from First Lord Kurita had some foresight of the great war that was coming and thus took the step of placing as complete a technological database of the Star Leagues technology inside as he could construct”.
The silence in the room now became almost oppressive as every Warlord let their emotions slip openly, such a rare failing of self-control speaking to the sheer weight of such a thing. Takashi met their gazes lightly and they glanced away to regain their composure … but he let his gaze hold for just a few seconds longer on the figure sitting behind Warlord Sorensen whose eyes were, of course, correctly looking at the floor and not at him … but even there he could see the indicators of dread in the way his hands were clenched tightly under his robe and his eyes blinking quickly as he worked to maintain his composure...
“Davions troops found this core” Indrahar took back the narrative smoothly as Takashi brooded. “And given how far behind enemy lines they were without time to call in experts, they chanced removing it … and failed. In their clumsy handling of things, they managed to set off a security protocol that destroyed the core and initiated a self-destruction sequence of the entire Castle Brian complex; which detonated with such force it reshaped the mountain range it was buried under and forced an underground sea back to the surface. If it was anyone but Ardan Sortek in command of the mission, they probably would have been stripped of their rank and dismissed the service for such a failure, but Davion seems to have grudgingly accepted the loss and focused on trying to study what Lostech samples he managed to recover for reverse engineering”.
“A complete Star League data core” whispered the Warlord of Dieron, for once not loudly or angrily, but simply stunned. “Slipping through Davions grasping fingers...”
“As the Combine let it slip through ours” Takashi finished in a voice like granite..
The Warlord of Galedon frowned, his bushy eyebrows crunching at the harsh statement.
“My Lord Kurita, your honorable ancestor may have been somewhat rash in his actions on Helm, but...” and he shut up quickly as Takashi turned to pin him with a look.
“My honorable ancestor taught the citizens of the Star League that choosing to rebel against the First Lords legitimate edicts has grave consequences” Takashi corrected the Warlord as if he was a child, causing the man to flush slightly, but otherwise hold his peace before he swept his gaze around the room. No matter that Takashi actually agreed with Samsonov for once, no-one could chide his ancestors but him and the Warlord would do well to remember that. “No Warlord, I am talking about the fact that Davions information about the cache indeed, as he claimed, came from a source inside the Combine. A noble discovered the existence of this cache … and rather than inform his superiors, he chose to keep this information a secret for his own use. And in turn, he had this information compromised due to lax security by Davion agents, leading the Fox straight to the cache after he compared information with Steiners!”.
Predictably, in an attempt to overcompensate for his earlier chiding and lead the room in its response, Samsonov’s fists slammed down onto the mat and his face became twisted with anger in response to the icy tone in the Coordinators voice.
“Treason!” the Warlord snarled and the other Warlords -released from blame by his noting that the secret had been kept from everyone in the room - indicated their support for the motion with their own angry noises of agreement and support. The sheer priceless value of what had been lost to the Combine that might have been theirs was starting to sink in and anger was taking the place of shock, good. “Who is this traitor?” Samsonov pressed, his eyes flaring in a slightly disturbing way as he stared at his Lord. “Name him Tono and I promise we will bring him to you for judgement at once!”
“Fortunately, Warlord, he has already been delivered to me, on this very evening” Takashi assured the other… and with that and a glacially calm expression, Takashi Kurita ever so slowly turned his head to very deliberately focus in on the man sitting behind Warlord Sorensen. And taking the hint, every Warlord did so soon after leaving the single target of his gaze symbolically and literally alone.
The Archduke Hassid Ricol. Or the ‘Red Duke’ as he preferred to be known.
And sure, enough at the extended silence and ominous last words of the Coordinator, the man couldn’t help but glance up … and become very still as he saw the Dragon and all of his Warlords were looking at him.
Takashi took a very personal, very vindictive pleasure in the flash of fear and dread in his eyes as he realized the Dragon now loomed over him. Very aware, very angry and very ready to have its revenge.
-
It had been over a decade now since the attempt on his life on Rasalhague - by far the closest any attempt that had come to succeeding. He could still remember the exact moment his Dropships engines had suddenly failed, putting him into a freefall for several long seconds before gravity resumed its hold, smashing his bodyguards into a stunned heap as the dropship spun on its axis out of control. The interior becoming a randomly reorienting mess as the fifteen-thousand-ton projectile plunged towards the ground with power lost across the ship … and for just a moment he had thought that it would be the end of him.
It had been Ivan Sorensen who had saved him - and he Sorensen in turn; the two of them managing to pull each other down the wildly pitching deck into the Mech bay and from there into Sorensens Mech. A crash power up to blast open a bay door and they had leapt into the open air, all but melting the Grasshoppers jump jets to get clear and land at a survivable velocity as the ship itself had smashed into the ground with the force of a tactical nuclear strike killing everyone left onboard and wrecking much of the spaceport.
As it turned out, his Son had also barely avoided dying, having shown up unexpectedly to the Spaceport to greet him in person, something the conspiracy had clearly not expected. One of the conspirators however, Governor Ottar Sjovold whose daughter had been promised to Theodore, had acted to extract his Son shortly before the Dropship had come crashing down.
His son was many things … many things indeed ... but a fool was not one of them. When news of the crash had been relayed, Theodore had swiftly confronted Sjovold for his vague reasons for pulling him away and the man had boldly admitted his involvement in the plot. Most probably, the fool had thought that with the Coordinator dead, Theodore would reward him for providing him a throne, wife AND for saving his life.
In a rare moment of pride for Takashi, his Son had not been happy.
And seeing death rather than elevation coming for him from the enraged Heir, the Governor had tried to attack him with a concealed weapon … only to be killed by Hassid Ricol sitting next to him before he could strike - or so the ISF reports said.
Of course, the ISF had been highly suspicious of Ricol for killing their only confirmed link to the high levels of the conspiracy but they found no evidence he was involved in it. Especially given that the man had been at the Starport with Theodore in the ‘line of fire’ as it were. And despite an extensive check, no proof of complicity had been found and so Ricol had been declared a hero who had unfortunately needed to eliminate the only known ringleader to save the heir of the Draconis Combine.
Until now.
Takashi didn’t know what displeased the ISF head sitting behind him more. That MIIO and DMI had compromised Ricol’s security and obtained the key to the Helm Cache from it without the ISF knowing either about Ricol’s activities or MIIOs penetration … or, that it was O5P who found out their failures? Or, even worse, that O5P had done so by compromising Maximilian Liaos spy network, no small achievement at all … and the ISF had been ignorant of that as well?!
As amusing as it had been to see his spymaster for once at a loss for words, Constance’s report was quite fascinating. Hanse Davion clearly -and rightfully- distrusted his Brother in Law. But it seemed even the Fox didn’t appreciate the depths of his brothers perfidery.
But then, in what sane universe would the leader of the vehemently anti-Liao Capellan March … be conspiring with Maximilian Liao against his Prince?
In any event, O5P had quite recently managed to subvert part of the Maskirovka chain from the New Syrtis to Sian. From that they had gotten the ‘primer’ report Davion had sent out to his two March Lords before departing for Tharkad. A report Hasek-Davion had duly passed on at the Chancellors request, Maximilian clearly eager to see if the situation in the Free Worlds League could be turned to his advantage in some way. Far more pertinent, the fact that Liao had not passed said report onto him despite his politely worded requests to share all information on the raid. Sending back only a few dribbles of media reports and dimwitted speculation, as if trying to make himself look the fool to one ally while plotting to see if he could take advantage of the other.
The Fox wins Katrina Steiner for an ally … and the Dragon must deal with such as these!?
But irrespective of if Constance was having perhaps too much fun tweaking Indrahars nose, the report had made for fascinating reading. Davions efficient MIIO had apparently identified Ricol as one head of a multi-faceted conspiracy determined to set itself against him, although Davions Quintus Allard seemed sure that the Archduke and his fellow traitors held contradictory goals. Some members of it he suspected were backing Theodore to replace him, others his Cousin Marcus. But what they could all agree on was that Takashi had to die.
Ricol or ‘Ruby’ as his codename was to this group, had been identified by MIIO primarily because he was operating as their spymaster. As an Archduke controlling a dozen worlds with business operations that some claimed rivaled Chandrasekhars, the man had trade ships and investments spread across the Inner Sphere. Both bringing in badly needed foreign capital and providing clandestine access to foreign component and technology markets for Kuritian companies, all of which raised his profile significantly in the eyes of foreign intelligence services.
Clearly, the Fox had been interested in the possibilities of a group dedicated to killing his greatest enemy and watched them closely, prepared to manipulate the situation to his advantage no doubt. But in doing so he had stumbled upon Ricols interest in Helm and following the thread to the end, found something far more valuable.
And, as a House Lord would, he had acted upon it.
As much of an unfortunate setback both in military and political terms this Helm Operation had been for the Combine, there were some silver linings he could pull from it. One of which was that five different sources inside the Federated Suns higher levels had all tried to present very carefully constructed and painstakingly ‘leaked’ pieces of a puzzle that pointed to his son as the source of the Helm Leak in the Combine. Not directly of course and barely even indirectly; the Federated Suns Ministry of Information, Intelligence, and Operations had put considerable work into laying out just enough data points for the ISF to follow up on. Which, after painstaking analysis, would lead the ISF to draw but a single conclusion.
Unfortunately for MIIOs hard work, three of the agents had already been under suspicion of being turned or ‘made’ by their enemy to deliver false information without them knowing. The fourth and fifth had not been, but now were now known to have been compromised, a fact which might save a great deal of pain later for the Combine. Yet without the dossier from Michael Hasek-Davion, it was entirely possible that credence would have been given to such claims, causing friction between he and Theodore that the realm did not need at all.
Well, did not need more than usual anyway.
It thus amused Takash that the Fox’s attempt to protect the conspiracy against the Coordinator of the Draconis Combine and turn father against son had been defeated, if unknowingly, by a conspiracy against the First Prince of the Federated Suns led by his brother in law. Karma was a strange thing, to be sure.
Of course, Takashi was not a fool. He would never act solely off information from House Davion, no matter how reliable it was thought to be by Maximilian Liao. But it was enough for him to give directions to the ISF. And with great focus and personal supervision from Subhash Indrahar, the Sons of the Dragon had fanned out searched for proof of what Davions diosier claimed - made surprisingly easy by the way the clearly panicked Ricol after Davions announcement at Christmas, had been thoroughly investigating his own internal security and operations. Clearly the man was clueless as to how Davion had penetrated him so deeply and in his broad efforts to conceal his crimes he had only helped direct the ISF teams straight to them. Most damning of which being his attempt to reach out to a half-dozen senior nobles through covert means to demand they in turn check their own internal security. Through code names and cutouts of course, but Subhash Indrahar was very very patient as he worked his way to follow the links of the chain to see where they led and untangled the attempts to obfuscate the identities of his fellow conspirators.
He strongly suspected one of the chains would lead straight to his cousin, Marcus Kurita ... but that was an issue for another day.
All in all it was enough to confirm the data from O5P and in the same stroke, discredit Davions attempt to drive a wedge between Father and Son. A cunning stratagem indeed, but thanks to Michael Hasek-Davion and O5P he had sidestepped it … and perhaps, could even be considered to have come out ahead? A few regiments of Battlemechs and Tanks with a few Lostech trinkets was a trifle of a price to pay for ripping out such a deep rooted and powerful conspiracy against House Kurita.
He would have to find a way to thank the Fox for his efforts...but for now, he had a problem; he could tell his Warlords none of this - would tell them nothing about it.
Admitting such a conspiracy existed, even if all in the room probably suspected such a thing existed in one form or another, would be a grave loss of face - and encouragement. That this group had so boldly attempted to kill him - and almost kill his only Heir - and had escaped justice for this long? Who knows what they might read into that!
And yet, for a man as powerful as Ricol ordering his death because of the Helm situation alone was equally problematic. While certainly more than within his powers (for that matter he didn’t need any reason to order a death of anyone in the Combine but only a fool of a Coordinator would ever be so coarse), it would be a politically fraught course as many nobles would no doubt decry such an action, especially his many political allies and backers. As always with the garden, it came back to balance. Upset it in too large a way and the ripples would flow out, spreading disharmony through the growth that would in time cause his problems to multiply. Especially as the expected consequences for attempting to kill the Coordinator were, of course, the harshest not simply to the person but to their family and house.
No. He would need to be a little more subtle. But of course, even if he could not openly accuse Ricol of the attempt on his life ... it did not mean that he couldn’t use that fact…
“Duke Ricol” he called the other forward with a curt gesture, wanting to get this over with. The Duke gathered himself and walked bent over from his place to a position directly opposite him, flanked by the double line of Warlords and aides on both sides and all eyes in the room glaring at him. Kneeling once more, he wasted no time in prostrating himself and not moving a muscle until finally Takashi tapped on the floor and he slowly, almost unwillingly, rose to face the coordinator.
It was the composed look of a man facing his death and trying to hold himself together … even as he desperately thought and schemed to try and stay alive.
“It pains me to see you here having made such a misjudgment, Duke Ricol” Takashi stated in a matter of fact way. “I remember well on that dark day so many years ago, when a conspiracy attempted to kill both I and my Son, you saved his life”.
“I remember it too, Tono” the other agreed with another bow.
“Your actions on that day were quite remarkable” he said slowly but carefully. Every word, every inflection chosen for maximum impact. “Few people know the truth of what you did on that day and that is a pity” Takashi continued and as the Red Dukes eyes met his for a second, Takashi let flow the full force of his rage out for just a moment … and he saw it have the desired effect. The man recoiled physically with a shiver across his body and Takashi knew then the man understood the Coordinator knew he had been part of a plot to kill him. Even as the rest of the room thought he was talking about his ‘noble’ actions saving his Son’s life.
As with so many conversations in the Combine, this one was as much about what was said as what was not said.
“I fear that there will be little chance that the memory of that day will be spoken of now” he now added, reinforcing the impression in the minds of those in the room … but saying something quite different to the Archduke. “We must concern ourselves only” he stressed, “with the actions of the here and now”.
Now Ricol blinked and started to regain some composure, glancing around the room for a moment before bowing deeply once more as he understood the message.
“My Lord”.
“We have conclusive evidence from sources inside the Federated Suns we have since confirmed by internal investigations, that House Davion Intelligence subverted your information networks and found the data you had been compiling on Helm” Subhash took over, his tone and bearing suddenly as clinical and cool as an Imperial Magistrate announcing his verdict. “A source close to you know by the codename ‘Ruby’ provided the information, unknowingly perhaps, which led Davion and Steiner straight to the cache”.
It was absolutely the truth … simply not the whole truth. Making the point about how much they knew by casually dropping of the man's own conspiracy code-name in his face … yet holding out a tiny sliver of hope to him by not identifying him.
“I am also aware that your agents on your behalf ‘inferred’ to one ‘Lady’ Deirdre Ravenna, the only ISF listed operative on Helm, that they spoke on behalf of the Dragon to prepare the ground for your operation, without clearing such liberties with the ISF” Subhash continued, his voice now turning somewhat cold - understandably so. The ISF head had, of course squeezed what few assets he had on Helm in the aftermath of Davions operation. And it had been a key starting point in their efforts to corroborate the Davion dossier, finding out that Duke Ricol had been apparently using it ‘on behalf of the Combine’ to setup the groundwork for an operation of some kind.
The ISF took a dim view of people taking such liberties with their resources, even if nominally for the good of the Combine. But especially for the use of building a private army to try and overthrow it.
“So, I would ask you now, what were your intentions for Helm?”
“My Lord Kurita, my Lord Indrahar” Ricol said in a surprisingly steady voice, albeit after taking several seconds to clear his throat and choose his words very carefully. “My intentions on Helm were, as you suggested, to recover the cache, for the Glory of the Combine. I knew that My Lord Kurita would be tied by his alliance with the Free Worlds League to not raid into the League and recover such a treasure. But at the same time, I knew that, as his honorable ancestor had noted, this was his by right of his First Lordship. Accordingly, I … decided to attempt a covert location and recovery of the cache that could be denied as officially sanctioned. I deeply regret this decision” he finished, bowing deeply once more at the two and staying down.
“Your decision has infuriated the Free Worlds League, Duke Ricol. Despite our denials that we had nothing to do with this raid in the aftermath of Hanse Davions gloating, SAFE sources have stumbled onto your Helm network - and by extension our own- and taken it as evidence we were aware of the cache and preparing to steal it” Indrahar stated icily and the entire room flinched just a little at the rarely heard tone from the normally genial and smiling man. “Which in turn has led to the Free Worlds League all but accusing the Coordinator of lying to the Captain General”.
Everyone in the room flinched at that statement. Such a loss of face for the Coordinator could be disastrous. The Concord of Kapteyn was uneasy at the best of times and could take only so many wedges of distrust before fractures would start to show...
“Had you succeed in your plan, my anger at you operating far beyond your station in this matter might, might have been offset by the material gains you brought back to me” Takashi spoke up again after a pause, his tone cold but collected. “And if you had recovered the data Core, all the Combine would have surely sung your praises. But you did not do either. Instead Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner have been enriched greatly and the Combine - indeed, all of humanity has lost greatly. Leaving me the question of what to do with you?”
What to do indeed. It was all in the Dukes hands now and for a minute there was nothing but silence as Ricol painstakingly analyzed his situation and glanced for support around him. But the Warlords offered none – their earlier declaration of treason had neatly trapped them into this box- and in the end, Ricol finally accepted the gift he had offered him for what it was, stealing himself like a true Samurai to face him, without fear in his eyes.
The man may have been a traitor deserving of a far worse fate … but Takashi in this moment could not fault him for his courage.
“Tono, my failures are my own and no-one else's. None of my people or my family hold any accountability or part of them. Thus, I … accept full responsibility and request your permission to … atone … for them, immediately”.
The room was silent at that statement, awaiting his response. And after an appropriate time, Takashi nodded slowly, as if in a distant sort of regret at the necessity.
“If that is your choice” he said slowly, “then you may use the garden” he gestured with an arm to the night. “And your atonement will be complete in these matters” he added, one final time saying without saying that his family, House and people would not be vindictive punished for his involvement in an assassination attempt on the Coordinator, as was traditional. His Wife would not be sold into slavery, his children not ripped out training and schooling to become wards of the state and his House not stripped, reduced and divided up into a memory never to be spoken of again.
And his death at least would be relatively quick and clean, nominally redeeming his honor with his life, taken by his own hand. For a man who had tried to kill him and then tried to raise an army to overthrow him, it was far, far better than he deserved. And he knew it.
“Warlord” he now said, turning to face Ivan Sorensen, his superior, in a bow, not meeting his eyes. “I would ask you to stand as my kaishakunin in this matter”.
Sorensen glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and Takashi offered him a small nod. As much as a vindictive part of Takashi would have enjoyed seeing him suffer by atoning alone, that would be out of line for this situation. There was a right way to do these things and a wrong way and he had to play this to the end.
“I would be honored to do so” the Warlord returned his bow deeply. And now the screen behind him opened where a group guards from the Otomo waited, each standing rigidly at attention, ready to take him on his final steps. After all, this was the heart of civilization, Takashi would allow him the dignity of the final bathing, the time to write a death poem and a last meal. And so for the last time the Archduke studied the room and bowed, deeply and smoothly, his bearing resigned but taking some small solace that his honor would remain intact and his family not punished harshly.
The entire room led by him, returned the bow - just as deeply before he turned and left with his head held high, the Warlord Sorensen joining him after a nod from his Liege.
While it was not his fault, the man is his responsibility and standing with him to ensure this is done is a fitting way to end this Takashi thought silently, taking in the slightly uneasy aftermath, feeling as much as seeing the glances exchanged and uneasy thoughts of the Warlords around him. They were clearly confused as to why the Archduke had decided to give up his life so easily rather than fight to at least be stripped of some of his rank and removed from the court, where he could plot a return. Which naturally led to the question of what else had the man done (that the Coordinator clearly knew of) that had Ricol running to slit his belly open rather than risk the alternative when offered the chance to save face? Whatever it was, they would clearly never know - and more than anything else, not knowing clearly disturbed these men, who made it their business to know these things.
But at the same time they saw the final message Takashi had presented to the room by doing things in this way. A message from their Liege that if they crossed him or pushed too far - as Grieg Samsonov had nearly done earlier this evening- the Dragon would find out.
Takashi allowed them the grace of several minutes to take in this lesson, instead closing his eyes and drinking in the serenity of the night outside, hearing the very faint noise from deep in the garden where his household staff were already setting up the necessary things for the ceremony to take place. He was sure everything would be done to perfection; his staff were quite efficient at it as this was neither the first nor would it be the last time such an invitation would be extended to a guest of the Palace of Unity.
At the appropriate time, centered once more; he opened his eyes and continued the meeting; calm and seemingly indifferent to the fact he had just had a traitor executed.
“While the contents of the Helm Cache have given a boost to our enemies, I am not content to sit back and let them dictate how it is used” he said, drawing all attention once more with nods of agreement. “I would also seek more detailed information on exactly what was taken from Helm, to be sure of the threat we face. Happily, there is a way to do both he said...” and with that, the rear screen opened again and there was a collective hiss of a mass intake of breath through the room. One filled with awe, fear and surprise.
None had expected to see him here. Probably, none had expected to see him ever again.
That amused Takashi; that the most powerful men in the Draconis Combine could be brought to such a state from the mere presence of a man such as this. A Tai-Sa in full dress uniform, his DCMS uniform perfect in every aspect bar two. One being that his unit patch, a black wave speckled with golden stars and a foaming white top was not that of a unit anyone in the room bar the Coordinator and his ISF head were familiar with. Second, that the daishō belt that should have been tied around his waist -even if swords like all weapons brought into the palace were carefully held in trust by the Otomo upon entry- was conspicuous by its absence as he stepped forward with the grace of a stalking tiger and bowed, deeply.
Takashi bowed back, holding his bow almost as long and deep as his cousin.
“Kurita-San” Takashi welcomed his Cousin. “Please, join us” he gestured to the same spot that the Duke Ricol had just vacated and the man bowed once more before silently taking the position indicated opposite from him.
Perhaps the Warlords in the room thought that this meant Yorinaga Kurita was finally going to be granted permission to end his life and the Coordinators garden would be well fertilized this month. Several of them probably hoped it was the case; the reentry of the greatest Mechwarrior into the combine political structure certainly threatened to complicate the lives of some of the men sitting with him.
In any event, the planning continued well into the night as the Director of the ISF revealed some new information he had received today that offered an excellent opportunity to strike back and shift the balance of power once more in their favor.
The ancient sage Archimedes had once boasted that if you gave him a large enough lever, he would be able to move the Earth. It would be fascinating to see what leverage he would be able to apply to the Inner Sphere when the Lady Melissa Steiner was his guest on Luthien soon enough…
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Alas poor Ricol, I loathed him well ^-^
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I wonder who will pay for this mistake ... Melissa has, after all, read the book(s).
Chris, do you have the list of the exact books on Mr. Smith's iPad? Just wondering if he had any of the rulebooks with him ;)
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Wolf's on the Border, The Warrior Trilogy and The Sword and the Dagger.
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Chris, I'm working on editing the complete story thus far, including the two interludes (the GDL and Kurita ones) to save it as a pdf for my ereader. When you finish the story (not for a long time, hopefully) would you like a copy to post on spacebattles for download?
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is there a way to post a pdf of everything todate?
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I'm still working on it. I could email the Word file I'm working on right now, but you'd be better off reading the main story on spacebattles using the threadmarks, and the two interludes here. Chris might have something better bit I doubt it would be a pdf right now.
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I'm still working on it. I could email the Word file I'm working on right now, but you'd be better off reading the main story on spacebattles using the threadmarks, and the two interludes here. Chris might have something better bit I doubt it would be a pdf right now.
rereading it on that page is a pain. way tomany off rails.
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Okay, too much Red Bull Later and here we go.
This chapter is really three chapters sort of spliced together into Frankensteins Monster as I realizied that honestly, who cares about Smith getting Mechwarrior training and going through boot camp?
I mean character development is all well and good, but there is such a thing as taking it too far.
So, a lot of splicing and genetic engineering later and here we are, I'm hoping it works well enough. Honestly this is just a 'lets get this back on the road' to time skip Christmas 3026 to the eve of the 4th Succession War.
Lets just get this out of the way so we can move to the fun showdown with Marco Ramius.
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Chapter 11: Misery loves Company
“Three blasts? RUN!”
The wind started to howl in a counterpoint to the screamed command as the three men dropped their gear and moved. Clumsily through the snow drifts for sure, but fear gave renewed energy to their previously sluggish limbs. The looming bluff in front of them offered the only possible hope as the wind continued to strengthen and where once before the day had been overcast but clear, now said wind drove snow and sleet with physical force before it to mask everything in a whirlwind of white.
And brought an intense chill in the air with it that heralded something far, far worse than a ‘mere’ winter storm.
Quickly however, it became clear that two of the two men were in far better physical shape as they rapidly outdistanced the third. Overweight and with clumsy panic driving him more than the cold, calm motions of a combat veteran, he fell, screaming for his friends to wait for him as he struggled back to his feet.
His cries and pleas were swallowed by the increasing howl of the wind as his comrades faded and then vanished into the thickening whiteout as they ran, either not noticing or not caring about their comrade left behind as they fled as fast as they could move. Disoriented the straggler looked around desperately but with no-one in sight found himself alone, staggering in the howling wind as he tried to orient himself in the right direction. But the driving snow only gave glimpses. Brief flashes of snow covered crests that looked much the same …
Until for a moment, the driving snow cleared just enough to see a number of figures moving towards him before vanishing again behind a new wave of sleet.
After one frantic look around for any other recourse, he scurried quickly across to a nearby rocky outcropping and hid behind it, terrified tears slowly freezing on his face as the wind started to die down. Slowly, more and more figures started to materialize out of the mist in the same, calm walk until, finally, they were close enough to see directly.
They were men.
Or more accurately, they had once been men.
Good men. Bad men. Innocent, guilty. Men who bent the knee to no-one, men who served a Lord or a Liege.
No more.
Their faces had been torn open, limbs ripped off. Dark black stains of blood and trauma were everywhere over shattered armor and missing clothes. They were a complete impossibility, walking corpses moving in a single group. Moving in silence grasping their various weapons, their eyes a chilling, uniform pale blue.
The man cowering in terror at the sight was simply ignored by the mass as they walked slowly past and around him, not deviating from their course one bit… and then a horse with a figure on its back did come to a halt a short distance away. And, entirely unwillingly, the man's gaze slowly moved up past the legs of the horse - noting vaguely in passing that it too was a ruined and terrible corpse given unholy animation by some fay force … but this he barely noticed.
Because sitting on its back riding it was a nightmare a thousand times a thousand times worse than the dead that continued to slowly shamble past.
It was a monster in vaguely human form. A kind of horrific yet majestically terrifying figure holding a long blade of silently smoking ice in one hand and the chains digging deep into the beast underneath it, in the other. For a moment it simply remained there, its gaze directed forward in the direction the dead marched … and then its head turned slowly to regard the living creature cowering from it behind the rock.
It’s eyes glowed. Nothing like the puppets of meat marching past it; no its eyes blazed a far deeper blue that said as alien as it was, this creature was alive. That it was the master of all the dead moving around it, a malevolence so powerful it was as if a physical thing that crushed the human under him with is force, tears streaming without a word down his face as their gazes met and the man broke, looking away and silently shaking in terror.
And then … it turned away. Dismissing, utterly, the cowering flesh as a threat or even as an object of interest. Instead, it raised its terrible weapon to the sky and screamed. A piercing scream alien and inhuman, carrying over the wind and soon answered by distant screams in turn. The sky cleared then just enough to see that as far as one could see, the dead marched, straight for the Fist of the First Men where their pray waited for them-
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***
Yells and profanity exploded across the lounge as the vid screen cut to black and the end credits of the season finale of Game of Thrones, season 2, came up.
The profanity redoubled as a far too happy announcer noted that was the final episode of Season 2 and the final episode that NAIS had released, thus far, from the recovered data core they had found. Without any ETA on when (or, God forbid, if) the next season would be found.
Looking around the room at my peers, I noted that they were all looking distinctly unhappy at that announcement.
I felt some pity at that. Because unlike everyone else in this room, I knew that these episodes of Game of Thrones were not from some data core picked up in the Halstead Station collection on Hoff. I still had no idea how NAIS had yanked them from my iPad; although my guess was that they had just settled for using a high-resolution holographic imager to directly capture the ipads display and its 3.5mm jack to lift the audio - if so, the quality was a hell of a lot better than I had anticipated.
But unlike my peers, I also knew that was it. It has only had seasons one and two on the devices. Well that and the blue-ray lore specials done by the cast I had ripped when I got the disks for Christmas, which in turn had been screened, one before each episode, to who flesh out the universe
Bizarre how much this series had captured attention.
Across the Federated Suns (and Lyran Commonwealth for that matter), the series had and topped viewing lists. Oh sure I knew from experience it was the kind of show that was wildly popular (and ****** I have to admit, I had grinned like an idiot when I had watched the first episode and heard that glorious opening theme for the first time in years) but in a neo-feudal society, I would have thought a lot of the novelty and ‘different’ nature that had made it popular back in my old reality would have been lost.
Boy had I been wrong about that.
If anything, it was taken as something new yet relatable. Many entertainment shows were even making the case that I had initially not thought about, that there was clear overarching parallels to the contemporary Inner Sphere given the thousand year gap between its production and now. The lost age of the Star League of wonders of its technology was of course the Valyrian Freehold vanishing and taking with them their power and magic. Dragons even equated to Warships easily enough and Valyrian Steel swords to family Mechs. For the love of God I had even picked up some vid commentary to draw lines of concurrency between the Maesters and ComStar; a neutral organization responsible for long range communications, protecting and teaching and staying totally neutral in the Game of Thrones…
And to my dark amusement, that analogy held true more than people realized given that the Maesters sure as hell had their own private motivations in the Great Game…and I’m sure ComStar would just love to have their own ‘Maester’ Precentors in place at the right hand of every Inner Sphere Lord.
The series was even being released officially in the Free Worlds League in a few months, although I was sure bootleg copies had surely jumped the border on Jumpships by now. And I had to admit to a burning curiosity if House Marik would take ‘When you play the Game of Thrones you win or you die’ as their new motto in the aftermath of that.
I was also undecided if Michael Hasek Davion was more like Stannis or Renley. Oh sure, he was a wannabe usurper with no legal claim to the Throne who wanted it because of his towering ego and absolute certainty that he could do so much better, which was Renly to a tee. But to give the man his due, he was also as ruthless, unyielding and skilled as a military commander as Stannis. But throw in Cersei’s inability to understand he wasn’t as clever as he thought he was … or was he more a self absorbed ‘believes own shit smells like roses, is given every break and still ****** up everything’ idiot like Danny?
Or just a slimeball like Walder Frey?
Hmm. Difficult one to pick. Now, was Maximilian Liao more Varys or Pycyll? Or was that something of a ‘good days’ and ‘bad days’ thing?
My idle speculation was cut short as with a violent motion, another cadet flopped into the chair beside me, glaring at the screen as I turned to raise an eyebrow.
******!” he muttered.
I simply stared at him.
“****** IT TO HELL!” he added loudly, as if I hadn’t heard him the first time. Eventually he realized I wasn’t joining in and turned to glare at me.
“Seriously John. ******. It. To. Hell, they can’t ****** leave it there … can they?” he protested, punctuating his words for emphasis as if his profanity wasn’t enough to get the point across...
“Well, they did” I pointed out with a wry smile as the other scoffed and flopped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
“But it’s getting really interesting! And not just the Walkers. I mean, Danny is on the march now and Stannis just got clobbered like a Liao. I mean, who do you think is going to with the Game of Thrones and take them on? Danny has to be coming back to Westeros now right?”
Not bloody likely I silently thought as I considered how painfully slow her arc had proceeded in the books. And even when the showrunners fast forwarded her events...
I controlled my amusement at Graham’s rage as I shook my head, declining to answer as I stood, stretching slightly as I glanced around the packed common room of the second years quarters. The kid could get a little excited at times - to the point of overdoing it around other people who were also a bit excited, so I was pretty used to such overreactions by now.
Although to be fair, I was pretty sure his edginess and excitement had other roots tonight.
Tomorrow was a very big day for the group. As of tomorrow, as our training advanced; us glorious Mechwarrior Candidates would finally be given the option of using our own Battlemech in place of the Chameleons the academy used for training, in the field exercises we would soon be starting. Where appropriate anyway, for those who had them.
Read; everyone but me.
I honestly didn’t care, although everyone in the platoon seemed to think that I was on the verge of breaking into tears at the thought of still being stuck using the training ‘Mech and not a ‘real’ Mech. And took my complete indifference as a kind of ultra stiff-upper lip thing, by where ‘pappy’ was facing the horror with awe inspiring dignity worthy of note.
Yeah. Seriously. Not joking here.
My Chameleon was a perfectly solid ride as far as I was concerned. My inner mech-snob started and ended at not being given a Bugmech (or an Urbie) and the Chameleon was exactly what you wanted in your first Mech, which was unsurprising as it was specifically designed for that role. It handled very forgivingly and had a quite roomy cockpit while mounting mixed energy weapons and jump jets to train with. I was also reasonably confident (given Hanse and Katrina’s explicit statements around what they felt they owed me) that I would have a Mech waiting for me as a graduation gift so I was pretty unphased by the lack of a Mech right now. And I hoped said Mech would serve me well though a quiet and uneventful tour of duty, before being promoted to a desk. A nice 9-5 desk well behind the lines.
But until that time, I tried to just tolerate the feeling that in the eyes of my peers I had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, trying to take the sympathy of the platoon as heartwarmingly endearing more than moderately exasperating.
Which was par for the course with this bunch thinking back...
Training at Sakhara, overall, had been a curious mixture of the expected and unexpected. I mean, the first three months had played out like every Trope of bootcamp I could remember as the training teams smashed us in the face with the reality of military life. Starting with basic infantry training (Sakhara was very much the ‘every graduate is a rifleman’ school of thought with one week a month for the rest of the first year after boot still dedicated to infantry training for those not on that track) and basic military discipline.
And yes, firing a man-portable SRM launcher was ****** tits; another advantage of being at a place that spared no expense was that you did get to play with the toys and live ammo ...
Mostly through, boot was about breaking us out of the civilian mindset so we would react rather than stop and think if someone screamed to hit the deck. And yet, some of my expectations and preconceptions were challenged, I must admit. Things that, I think, came down both to the three fundamental things that made Sakhara itself quite different from the other academies in the Federated Suns and my position in the group.
First; as far as the staff and the old boys network behind the school were concerned if you were here, then you were worthy and nothing else needed to be said. Everything else was left at the door (a few classmates needed ‘encouragement’ from the instructors to get over themselves of course but still got the message soon enough). As far as the school and class were concerned, the only thing you were while you were here, was a cadet. The only thing you brought with you was your willingness to become the best soldier of the AFFS you could be.
Everything else was window dressing.
Which wasn’t to say all of us were ignorant of or refused to talk about our outside lives, just that trying to claim any kind of privilege or position or superiority based on it was a very very stupid idea quickly left behind.
Which lead in turn into the second difference.
Point of fact; this was not a vacation school.
Or a polishing school.
Or a finishing school.
Or a social club.
This was also not NAMA or Albion or Warriors Hall.
Sakhara was the single most exclusive (and it went without saying of course that meant The Best) military training facility in the Federated Suns with expectations adjusted accordingly. They would not shy away from their expectations or from failing any of us if we didn’t meet them. That we, on a per-cadet basis, would be lavished more attention and resources than any other student in any other training center in the Inner Sphere … and they would push us harder than we thought we could go - no; further than ‘we’ could go.
Which lead into point three; no cadet could or would graduate alone.
That wasn’t a statement of intent; that was a statement of fact, the training staff were at pains to point out. Teamwork wasn’t simply encouraged but worshiped at this place and given its reputation in Battletech as having one of the tightest ‘old boys’ networks in the Inner Sphere, well… it didn’t surprise me at all from this side of the fence. It was, in a strange way, almost the inverse of the Clan Sibko system. In that ****** of a brainwashing and indoctrination camp, kids grew up tight only to slowly drift as they realized they were, more or less, in direct competition with instructors just looking for excuses to start weeding the ‘weak’ out. First for Warrior status itself. Then Bloodnames and Promotions - all done by ‘fight to the death!’ rules for rank and political power - hell, any challenge to near any decision could be made a fight to the death by Clan Law.
That was not the kind of environment that inspired loyalty. Or empathy for that matter.
Yes, I’m talking about you Marthe Pryde.
And so had started ‘boot camp’ as it were (or ‘initial training, conditioning and assessment’ as the people here called it).
It hadn’t been easy. Partially because my body was pushed and pushed in ways I had never pushed it before … but also because I found myself half the time the only ****** adult in the room!
I mean boot camp was physical, but I had expected that. The first two weeks were all screaming, running, more screaming and then more running and very long days. Followed by nights on a cheap bed in the ‘boot barracks’ asking myself what in the ****** I was doing on this bed instead of a massive luxury one in a palace covered in female Canopian stereotypes?
I (grudgingly) gave thanks to Ardan and the Heavy Guards for forcing me through Zero-G calisthenics every day on our Helm trip, then congratulated myself on following Ardans advice to keep up the routine -and indeed step it up a notch- on the way here, which let me get through the physical screening part of training with little trouble. Combined with common sense and a few things I remembered from EssBe military veterans on the topic of ‘surviving boot’, I felt I had adjusted well enough and against my expectations, I had even found myself starting to rise to the challenge. Initially because I didn’t want to disappoint the powers that be, but over the weeks even that fell away.
Here in this artificial bubble, the rest of the Inner Sphere could be put on hold. No need to worry about how I might have butterflied this or that. No time to worry about Myndo Waterly wanting to burn me at the stake as an ultra-demon born from the evil and twisted HPG of Hanse Davion. Or about Aldo or Fredrick or Michael screwing things up.
No; all that mattered was that ****** wall on the obstacle course we needed to tackle together by forming a human pyramid. Which was harder than one might think. Because the other cadets? Oh boy...
I mean, I never set out to become ‘the guy’ trying to keep the children behaving and morale up. It started simply with not wanting to be dragged out for more PT because some ****** was about to walk right into the DIs trap I saw coming a mile away. So, one day early on I gave advice which had been taken and, surprise surprise, paid off for everyone so instead of a whole bunch of individuals we suddenly had a team. Then suddenly people were coming to me for advice that I gave, to yet more success. And then when we were given tasks as a team and told to get down to it, everyone increasingly looked to me to take charge. Possibly because I was the oldest member of the group by a considerable margin. Possibly because I actually gave advice that worked, who knows?
Most of the time I did little more than make sure everyone was reading from the same script and encourage ideas. Making sure we kept an eye on the ball, but otherwise hands off. But as time passed, I found myself increasingly having to be the one to take that first step as everyone seemed to keep deferring to me...
This unofficial leadership, such as it was, hadn’t really been an issue though until said DIs had formalized my position by making me ‘Platoon Leader’ at the halfway mark of the boot camp training where we were expected to do more tasks as a group and sort out things ourselves. It was of course technically a very prestigious, very impressive achievement. One saying that the staff had marked me out as a natural leader for the group … or perhaps just the one who ****** up the least.
Either/or I suppose.
But, in reality, the position meant I had formally gotten the blame for the kids ****** up, had to actually plan and act rather than just suggest and had to take in hand a lot of annoying administrative crap the DIs gleefully palmed off. Leaving me dancing on an exasperating loose/loose line of either micromanaging the squad leaders of the day, or, giving the kids enough freedom to learn something … by mistakes.
Frankly, I had felt I was getting a hell of a raw deal … but with little choice I had done the best I could to make sure all the little stuff was done, that no-one cut corners and that all ****** were quickly rectified (and most critical that any ****** were owned and admitted to rather than covered up). While providing a shoulder to lean on or some advice from a massive array of book, movie and TV quotes, stories and parables adapted to Battletech life to encourage everyone onwards on those ‘why the ****** am I here?’ evenings.
By the end of boot camp and our final field exercise as we marched on fumes and high-caffeine drinks into the main quad, exhausted and covered in the results of crawling through the planets ‘charming’ forests dodging ‘Mechs for thirty six hours, we were a very tightly knit group … and the whole damn lot of them looked up to me as the ‘old man’.
God help us all.
So yes. I liked them … but it didn’t mean they didn’t drive me nuts.
I mean, they were still all a bunch of egomaniacs; card carrying cultists on the Mechwarrior track. All convinced they were destined to ‘be the next Natasha Kerensky’ - God help me Kevin and Roger both used those exact words at different points.
Yet, for all that, they were genuinely decent people. Indeed, to my mild surprise - and against my expectations - they had pushed past their initial Blueblood tendencies rapidly to really embrace the equality of the platoon. And not simply because it was enforced by the DIs. Going in, I had expected every trope of snooty noosed brats looking down their noses at a ‘commoner’ like me as they brutally struggled to find a way to prove themselves the ‘dominant’ player in the group … but neither I nor the other two ‘commoners’ in the platoon were treated any differently on the basis of birth.
If anything, they seemed bizarrely fascinated by us and our ‘normal lives’... or perhaps, that was just me.
Not to sound like an egomaniac, but none of them seemed to know what to make of me. The number of question marks around my life compared to others was, I must admit, noticeable. I mean my basic story was straight forward; I was a MIIO desk sitter a lot older than these guys who had lost all of my family a long time ago but had always wanted to be a Mechwarrior. And, after some outstanding field service to House Davion above and beyond all expectations in MIIO, Quintus Allard had quietly rewarded me personally with this ‘scholarship’ to Sakhara.
The problem with the story was that these young men and women may be headstrong Mech cultists, some with family history in the AFFS back to before the Reunification War they would remind you of at the drop of a hat … but they were not stupid. Graham still sulking and glaring at the Vid screen, for example, was the son of Olivia Fenlon. Duchess of Chesterton and Foreign Minister of the Federated Suns. He had been the first to point out one night that if being given the chance to become a Mechwarrior was my wish and reward (a lie I now deeply regretted as it meant now I had to pretend to be at least a prospective member of the damn Mech Mafia), it would have made much more sense if I was just told to walk down the road to either NAMA or Albion with a verigrahped letter… not shipped across the Inner Sphere to a ridiculously expensive and exclusive training academy...but it was an excellent way to train me while also keeping me way off the beaten track.
Once again; privileged. Not stupid.
Probing had been discouraged quickly enough by the instructors, especially after Katherine Board, an Aerospace cadet from Charlie platoon had (through a ‘friend of a friend’) backtracked the genesis of my trip to the academy as from Tharkad just after the Helm announcement. It didn’t take an NAIS scientist to put two and two together from that timing and soon had come whispered pleas in the night for me to talk about what had gone down on Helm and what secret Lostech had been brought back. At least until I had eventually made it crystal clear that if I even dreamed about anything I may or may not have been involved in, Quintus Allard would promptly have us all hauled off to an MI5 black site for a very long and unpleasant chat.
When they realized I was actually not joking, the questions had stopped. Said realization happening after Katherine’s ‘quiet chat’ with some nice men in suits in the Commandant's office that took place a few days after she had spilled the beans on my trip from Tharkad. A conversation she would absolutely not talk about.
Like I said. Smart kids.
Anyway. Boot camp had ended at the three month mark in early May with, I’m proud to say, none of my platoon dropping out. And after a week of R&R that I mostly spent, once more, shepherding the damn kids far too eager to celebrate their first week of freedom since arriving on planet with the usual pastimes (read; mostly getting laid in the nearby ‘Ditch-Town’ which had spring up to support the base and was always welcoming to rich young nobles); we moved from boot camp into something much more serious that would last until October.
‘Tier I Military Specialization in Battlemech Piloting and Operations.’
Or as I called it, ‘Mech-101.
That intense six months challenged me far more than boot. Mechwarrior training might have been easier than say flight school, but it was still a hell of a learning curve. Especially when the least of the other cadets had over 1000 hours on Industrial mechs. Most (unsurprisingly) had years of private training - and the Gleeson twins Marri and Kyle actually had genuine combat experience with their parents’ house guards against Capellan raiders.
I, on the other hand ... had taken one ride in the back of a Victor. And it showed.
Thankfully Sakhara didn’t directly grade students against each other, instead using a sophisticated weighted metric from the other AFFS academies, normalized against the Sakhara long term average. The class size was simply too small to do otherwise - and it would have been toxic to the whole ‘teamwork above all’ spirit. And as our first posting would always be two years with the academy training battalion rather than competing for assignment choices, everyone was in the same boat. In short; while I was clearly well behind the curve as far as Battlemech proficiency was concerned, I had cadets coming from each and every direction willing - almost eager - to help me rather than be relieved I was no threat to their own standings and content to let me struggle.
None more than tiny little Julia Bourne, who seemed determine to repay my helping her out early on through some of boot by dragging me to the Mech simulators every spare hour we had to bring me up to her own demanding standards. Which, frankly, I was damn grateful for because a Battlemech was way harder to pilot than one might think...
But I’d be damned if I fell over at the first hurdle just because I started a little bit behind the rest of the class - and to give them credit, the class never rubbed my ‘noobness’ in my face. And with Julie and the other cadets pulling me along until I caught up, I successfully completed the first six month ‘check’ course.
Meaning, in practical terms, we were expected to be able to move our Mechs cleanly on varying terrain and not trip over our own feet. To be able to march in column or move in tactical formations smoothly and to move through static positions like going prone, falling down and getting back up. Not to say basic competence with jump jets, which was fun!
Gunnery wise, we could all shoot moving targets with an acceptable accuracy - at least on a firing range - and qualified with all types of weapons at a basic level, occasionally using other designs to prove it. While on the technical side, we were also expected to know every switch, button and configuration in the cockpit by heart and able to recite, from memory, critical checklists like cold-starting a fusion reactor, in our sleep.
-
So October 3027 came and we moved from Mech-101 to Mech-102, as well as increasing classroom time on the kind of things you’d expect junior officers to be shoved through. For me, that successful ‘graduation’ was the focus of my world - and a source of immense pride- but less so for the rest of the platoon who were rather more distracted by things like Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner announcing that the former was going to marry the latter’s daughter.
Suffice to say, the ‘WTF’ response was … impressive to see from the ground floor. Nobody, and I mean nobody around me had seen it coming and pretty much nothing else had been talked about for a week. It was also darkly amusing that the consensus from the talking heads in the March and on New Avalon was conservative - even pessimistic - about the possibilities for this union bringing any immediate change to the status quo against our shared enemies (read the Draconis Combine). An opinion that, prima facie, seemed to make the most sense. Especially if you made the assumption that this was the natural next step from the enormously successful Helm operation and that Hanse’ visit to Tharkad had been all about. Meaning that after the wedding came the hard work to look at issues like military options.
Boy were those talking heads going to be spittaking when Hanse gave his toast…
I think I could also see the subtle hand of MIIO in there as the talking heads continually brandished leaked costs, headaches and disruption the recent Thor I and Galahad II exercises had caused (to the ‘annoyance’ of the AFFS press corps) across the board. Proof, as it were, that perhaps we may see a more intense 3rd Succession War grinding take place and build up to withstand the enemy better, but certainly nothing major offensive wise for many years.
AND, as everyone seemed to want to repeat ad-infinitum, this was ultimately the culmination of Katrina Steiner's famous peace proposal. Ergo, this was about her getting said peace, not fighting. So it clearly meant a defensive posture and building up.
Which was ****** hilarious really.
Katrina Steiner was so often portrayed as a kind of reluctant warrior in Battletech fiction - and even by the media here! A very skilled soldier who was tired of war to the point of writing that rather vague and silly peace proposal…
Yeah, that was complete bullshit.
Katrina wanted peace for her people. Absolutely and unequivocally. She detested the zero-sum waste and death of Succession War 3.0, no question about that either. But that did not mean for a nanosecond that she wouldn’t use war if, like any tool of statecraft, it could give her and her people what she wanted. Hanse’ strategic genius had presented her, in 3025, with a plan of breathtaking audacity and brilliance to upend the game board by smashing the weak flank, securing it and then hitting the Combine in the future, in a one-two punch. And after careful consideration, the veteran soldiers desire to take the initiative and ruthlessly exploit it had won out in her mind.
And thanks to me, she knew phase one had been a ridiculous runaway success and I had little doubt she and Hanse were in the final stages in fine tuning the plan based on my information to drive that dagger in just a tad deeper into Mad Max’s back … and perhaps to twist it a little this time as well?
Now, that wasn’t to say Katrina was simply a ruthless pragmatist. Not at all. She absolutely had an idealistic side that I had, as it so happened, crashed right into on Christmas Day. It was when the power trio (as I had come to think of Hanse, Katrina and Melissa) had invited me to a Christmas dinner with them in the Royal Apartments. And by invited I meant Melissa had appeared as if by magic inside my room through a secret passage and lead me unerringly to the Royal Apartments with a tolerant smirk at my giddiness at being led through a castles genuine secret passages!). Katrina, Melissa and Nondi had a cute tradition of a casual and private Christmas Dinner, a smorgasbord of various foods. Nothing terribly fancy but entirely ‘homey’ and far more welcome because of it. Hanse and Ardan had of course been invited to this years dinner … along with me.
Which had been quite a touching gesture, once again, from the group.
And it had been a nice, casual atmosphere, something I had not felt really since I had been ripped into this reality. Just this odd pseudo-family sitting around and chatting about everything, although most of the discussion seemed to be about me and the 21st century, the group finding fascination in so many things little and big that were different in my ‘reality’ to theirs. Predictably perhaps through, the discussions eventually led to the hope being raised that the Federated Commonwealth would lead to an end to the Succession Wars and with that hope, Katrina had raised her glass proudly and offered a toast; to the restoration of the Star League.
I got the feeling it was a sort of a pro forma thing for her, yet clearly something she believed in.
Dito Hanse.
And alone in the group, I had not joined in.
That had hardly gone unnoticed when Katrina had then asked me, in a tone of genuine curiosity, why?
I’m not sure why Devil Consequences on my shoulder sounded like Sheev Palpatine as it materialized cackling while telling me ‘Do it … do it!’ but honestly, even without any prodding I think my response would have been the same as I snorted, looked her in the eyes and scoffed; “****** the Star League”.
The silence in response to that remark was both shocking and amusing. With Katrina for the first time I could recall, looking genuinely shocked. And her sister looking at me like I had just said ‘The black cat cannot do long division’ or something equally nonsensical. Hanse seemed to almost choked on his coffee as Ardan sighed like Kif Kroker ... but was betrayed by a tiny grin on his face he was trying to hide.
Melissa however took the prize when after a shocked two seconds, she had silently gotten up and walked to the sideboard, picked up the bowel of popcorn, walked back, sat down and started calmly munching while staring at us all with intent eyes and all without saying a word.
Seriously, she was the Inner Spheres Troll Queen, no question.
And after a silent beat from the entire group staring at her actions, Katrina had recovered enough to sit up, turn to face me with that look on her face and ask me (in an intent but non hostile way to be fair) to justify this statement.
It wasn’t a suggestion, but a request.
And so I had.
And perhaps as the arguments had rolled on for another three or four hours, I must have pushed perhaps a little too hard, abusing the crap out of my position as a universal outsider able to talk about things like the Reunification War debates that they may not even have known about from perspectives they couldn’t as I issued a scathing judgement over the Star League as a flawed creation whose countdown to destruction had inroxably been activated the second the Camerons had set the whole thing up as a pyramid scheme.
Which actually made me wonder if the lack of any contact from Hanse, Katrina, Melissa or Ardan wasn’t simply OPPSEC but came down to the fact that I had scorned and poured my contempt over one of their greatest dream and hope; the rebirth of the Star League with one of their kids or grandkids at its helm.
Because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.
Still, even if I was a little on the outer right now, I held no regrets about offering them my somewhat unique perspective on the subject of Ian Camerons Tyranny. God knows if they had listened or not though-
A sudden wack to my back however snapped me out of my reminiscing and I turned to find that Graham had, finally, finished his raging over the fact that there was no more Game of Thrones. The credits had ended and everyone was ambling out of the room - it was getting close to lights out after all.
“Come on” he said with a sigh as he got to his feet, stretching mightily. “We should get some sleep, big fun day tomorrow!” and then he froze in the act of stretching and winced, his face looking as if he had just realized he had just hit me with a deathly insult. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“Let’s not start that again?” I half suggested and half pleaded and the man solemnly nodded and kept his mouth shut, clearly wanting to leave me my dispossessed dignity.
For ****** sake how could I even be dispossessed if I technically didn’t even have a mech before? Seriously guys I’m not bothered!
Still rather than have that discussion again, I kept my silence and headed out, following Graham to the nearby stairwell. But my roommate halted on the first floor switchback, looking out the windows with a frown.
“What?” I asked in concern, coming up next to him and he jerked his head into the sky.
“Dropship” he said simply and I followed his gaze. There was indeed a star falling out of the sky seemingly straight for us - although such things were relative of course. The starport that serviced the academy was actually twenty klicks away, connected by a highway and private freight maglev ... but in planetary terms; it was coming for us.
Paranoia being habit forming, I glanced off to the side where one of the perimeter defense towers could be seen skylined against the massive wall around the campus. Static defenses were a hit-and-miss thing even with Battletechs iffy PGM technology. Most people who wanted to build up a hardpoint defense would just buy a bunch of LRM carriers from Quickimart, but there were benefits to armored static turrets with a commanding defensive position on the perimeter for both AAA work and for at least delaying a ground attacker long enough for your real defenders to get up and running.
The tower however was cold with its boxy missile launchers and quard linked AC-5s in lockdown - and beyond them I could see the running lights of a Cadet Lance on perimeter patrol. Three third year cadets and an officer leading them, all of whom looked to be casually strolling and not rushing to defend against an attack ... so I’m sure we were good.
Anyways, the ship seemed to land without incident and moments later, the buildings interior lights suddenly dimmed and a recording of The Last Post played over the intercom. The two things telling everyone it was lights out in ten minutes and everyone started moving with a purpose.
Because they meant lights out.
Boot camp might be over and the shouting lessened, but the instructors here still much enjoyed catching cadets out of their beds or making too much noise and finding creative ways to collectively punish us for it (generally involving a 3AM wake up for room inspection for everyone) so everyone was in bed before we heard the stomping of instructors moving down the hallway looking for anyone out of place.
They needn't had bothered; all the Mechwarriors in this building were trying desperately to get sleep to come so they could fast forward to the glory of tomorrow and getting their precious, precious Mechs.
I however stayed away for some time. Thinking about the Game of Thrones in the Inner Sphere and how close the next ‘War of the Five Kings’ (or five First Lords technically) was. With the White Walkers off on Strana Mechty biding their time and gathering their power, as the current Littlefinger/Grandmeaster plotted and schemed and ****** with everyone from Terra…
Because ‘Chaos is a Ladder’ really seemed to suit Myndo Waterly even if she wasn’t technically in charge. Yet.
Yup. You know on reflection, being isolated away in this little corner of the Inner Sphere away from the massive changes about to sweep through it sounded just about perfect. So, I rolled over and went to sleep that night in blissful ignorance of how my structured and bubbled life was about to come to a screeching halt on the morrow.
-
Sakhara had a 26 hour rotation. The academy however ran to Terran Standard time, which meant that occasionally ‘dawn’ was local midday. It was a somewhat unusual thing, although far from uncommon across the Inner Sphere, with most planets and starships syncing to TST (still GMT or Zulu time) directly or indirectly, up to and including ‘leap’ units which led to some crazy local calendars, to keep everything synced to a Sphere wide dating standard.
It was a bit bizarre and hard to get used to, but then that was the point. Sakhara Academy was filled with a lot of recruits for whom this was likely their first journey offworld and so getting used to living this way was a big part of getting used to being a soldier.
Today however, 05:00 was just about at sunrise. So when ‘Reveille’ ripped through the speakers in the building and I groaned myself awake, it wasn’t either pitch black outside or the middle of the day, which was about as good as it got.
So I rolled out of bed - and was almost run over by Graham blazing past me with a gleeful look on his face as he made for the showers. Rolling my eyes tolerantly I efficiently grabbed a fresh uniform and headed after him.
The entire training company of Mechwarriors was ready in record time this morning and we assembled outside the barracks in formation at exactly 06:50. Waiting for us was our primary instructor Sergeant Major Anthony Johan, an ex Light Guardsmen I strongly suspected had been seconded to the Rabid Foxes a few times given how scary Ninja and freakishly competent he was. We fell into formation quickly, now very practiced at standing at exactly the right distance from each other in one line of twenty and one of Sixteen. Every single Mechwarrior cadet in the second year. Thirty five of them all but vibrating in place with their eagerness to get started reviewing their Battlemechs … and me, the guy who honestly couldn’t give a f-
“Company” barked Johan. “Tenn….hut!”
We all snapped to attention with the distinctive crack of well polished boots slamming into the asphalt simultaneously.
“Present….arms!” he snapped and with he spun around and brought his arm up in a salute with ours as we all faced the distant tower that loomed over the middle of the base HQ building. A giant Golden Sunburst flag started to rise in a stately fashion now, as from speakers all over the base, the anthem of the Federated Suns started to play and all military personnel halted whatever they were doing to face it and salute.
The words were not exactly the same, although a decent amount of the original was still there, but now mixed in with stuff about how House Davion and the Federated Suns were going to kick your teeth in and/or die trying if you tried to conquer them...
But the music was still the same.
La Marseillaise. Which was actually pretty damn awesome I have to say.
Because seriously, the nobility of the Sun's loved the whole French schtick, or at least a thin veneer of it. I had even picked up enough French from my classmates to be able to at least get the gist of what was being said now, even if they always cringed and told me to please use English whenever I tried to speak it.
But the French thing was a mostly harmless veneer, compared to say ... the Combines thin veneer of “Bushido”. A veneer which twisted true Bushido into something with only the most vague similarities to the actual ancient code. Entirely for, as best as I could tell, justifying horrific crimes against humanity off the cuff and rigidly setting a de facto caste system into place.
In any event, the song finished and with that the Sergeant snapped out “Two!” and everyone's hands snapped back to their sides before he turned and did a walk along both lines, glaring at everyone and looking for anything out of place. He finally reached me, last person in the second line and … paused for a couple of seconds making a ball of ice settle into my stomach as he stared intently at me as if this was the first time he had ever seen me.
I wondered what was out of place and just what creative punishment he would come up today, given that denying me ‘my’ Mech was off the table…
But he said nothing, almost seeming … I don’t know?
Whatever it was, after those couple of seconds he moved on.
Okay, the ****** was that about?
“Company! You will proceed immediately to Mech Hanger bravo and report to Captain Rogers who will be waiting for you there” the Sergeant ordered, naming the commander of the second year trainees.
And no, he didn't look anything like Chris Evans - but he was quite a decent guy all the cadets respected, who got to play Good Cop to the NCOs bad cop.
Even if he didn't have a mighty shield.
“You will be there within thirty minutes or do not expect to do a damn thing with your Mech today. Is that clear?”
“SERGEANT YES SERGEANT!” I screamed along with the rest of the company. Thirty minutes would be doable, but we’d have to take it at a jog. Of course, if any of us failed it would mean that cadets physical conditioning had started to backslide, so I’m sure they would have a very fun day in that case-
“Smith!” Johan yelled out my name unexpectedly and I snapped my head to face him.
“YES SERGEANT!” I yelled back.
“You are with me today” he declared, with a gleam in his eye I didn’t like at all.
“SERGEANT YES SERGEANT!” was however the only response I could give back ven as internally I was bemoaning my immediate future.
“Fall out!” he yelled and with that the rest of the company was running - I got more than a few back slaps as everyone thundered past me with expressions on their faces of children being told on Christmas morning that now they could go downstairs and see what Santa had left them-
“Smith, MOVE YOUR ASS!”
“SERGEANT YES SERGEANT!” I yelled as I realized belatedly he was already on the move and I had to run to get back into formation behind and next to him as was proper, as he power walked around a corner to where a jeep was waiting for us. The basic design of such vehicles honestly hadn't changed much in a thousand years for much the same reason the US army kept it simple as hell even in my time; minimal possible logistics footprint. That was kind of a big thing when the nearest spare part for something might not be in the same star system...
And everyone still seemed to feel the need to drive them like lunatics.
With a squeal of tires we were off, with I barely having time to strap in before the man floored it. He did slow down just long enough to pace the platoon who were perhaps moving a little too slow for his liking, but his screams quickly fixed that as they picked up the pace before he drove off, leaving them in the dust as we … also headed for the hangers?
My confusion however only increased as I realized we were not heading for the cadet’s hangers.
Instead, to my great surprise, we pulled up outside Omega hanger. And to my greater surprise, we hadn't hit anything on the way.
The academy had five Mech hangers in total. Alpha, Bravo and Charlie were the first second and third year students’ hangers respectively. Delta was in mothballs - maintained but mostly kept as an active reserve in case some idiot blew up one of the other hangers or flushed coolant over the floor or something. Omega was half the size the students’ hangers, but it was where the training officers who didn’t directly lead the cadets stored their Battlemechs.
After all, they would hardly be expected to leave their Mechs at home, would they!?
Perish the thought!
And technically most of them were in fact still serving AFFS officers ‘on loan’ to Sakhara so they had to have their Mechs close to hand, ‘just in case’.
Which wasn’t actually a joke; Sakhara had been attacked in the Succession Wars, albeit rarely. But even so it was just a Mechwarrior thing, rather than an AFFS mech being reissued to a Mechwarrior to use it on the front lines, it would be thrown into a hanger in the rear…
Yeah, still didn't get this Mech cult BS.
Anyway, the front gate of Omega was closed (after all you didn't want anyone just walking into a hangar filled with a hundred million House Bills worth of Mechs) but the Sarge led me to a side door in the otherwise sealed hanger. He slotted his access card into the port above the keypad and entered a six-digit code I knew was changed on a week to week basis...
And then, to my surprise, he paused and turned back, holding the door open.
“Cadet, you are no longer my responsibility” he said directly. “But you still carry the honor of the Company with you until such time as I relieve you of that responsibility. Do not embarrass me, the Company or the Academy or I will make you regret it, clear?”
“Sergeant, yes Sergeant!” I gave the only reply I could, but it came out a little more surprised than determined, before at his impatient gesture I forced my legs into motion and moved into the building … at which point the door boomed shut behind me leaving along in near darkness.
Okay, so that just happened I blinked. A ‘skin-crawling icy ball in stomach spider sense’ certainty that something far bigger than a simple ‘make work’ deal was happening if the Sarge had handed me off to someone else like that. And as I heard the jeep outside start up and drive off, leaving me along without orders in what seemed to be an abandoned Mech hanger...
Okay this is either the start of a horror flick … or a porno. Well, let's see where this goes?
My eyes had adjusted enough now to determine that while the building lights were off and the front gate was clearly sealed, there was some kind of light ahead so I shrugged and started to walk forward down the narrow corridor formed by the walls of the Mech bays left and right of me. I emerged onto the main floor of the hanger and glanced around briefly, finding it deserted and silent. Dark too, the main lights and secondary lights in the bays were all off … except in one, three bays down which was fully illuminated. Taking the unsubtle hint, I strode towards it. My polished combat boots against the reinforced floor seemed far too loud in the silence of the bay but I killed the urge sort of sneak around like a kid somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be. Clearly this was where I was supposed to be, to meet … someone?
I mean there was no real chance that this was a ROM plot to grab me or anything like that. And I was being silly if I thought the Free Worlds League was looking for retaliation for you know, stealing the Helm Cache from them. And just because I had verbally flicked ****** Steiner in the head on Tharkad, it didn’t mean he had a reason to try and break in and have me killed or anything … did it?
I tried not to let my imagination run away with me as I reached the Mech bay … which to my surprised, was sealed. The heavy doors were only deployed to help contain things when work was being done on the Mechs that might get messy. Things like coolant changes, clearing them off after a day of running around in the mud or if equipment that might send showers of sparks everywhere had to be used … but I couldn’t hear anything going on at all behind it.
After standing around for a good five or ten seconds and finding no-one visible, I was about to call out - when with a sudden rattle and scream of metal on metal, the massive shutters started to move, rolling along rails in the ground and folding backwards on themselves to show what was hiding inside and I glanced up into the Bay.
Then up some more.
Finally I took several steps back and really craned my neck.
The chicken-walker legs, angular body on top of them and distinctive weapons with a third main gun looming over its body … this monster was unmistakable.
Well unless you were to mistake it for a Zentradi Officers pod - and ****** you Harmony Gold; I can see it. Unseen my ass!
It was a Marauder - and I stood there for a moment, admiring the quiet menace the design gave off before noticing a few unusual things.
For starters, it clearly wasn’t the famous MAD-3R. The third gun ‘over the shoulder’ was much smaller and looked like an energy weapon mount, a laser I thought. Which would strongly suggest this was a MAD-3D … except for the two extra medium lasers mounted under the ‘chin’ of this design.
I didn’t know of any canon designs that mounted this weapons loadout.
Then as I stepped closer, I noticed a distinct faint hexagonal patterning in the slate-grey paint of the unit and I felt a sudden surge of recognition. I had only seen that pattern on Mechs once before …
On Helm.
And with another glance, the subtly different angular body above me suddenly clicked again with a memory from Helm of a dozen of these machines, tied down like giant Gullivers on the Flatbeds as they were driven to be loaded up on the cargo Dropships…
“That’s ferro-fibrous armor - and this is a modified Two-Romeo” I muttered in shock, aloud without realizing it. This was a Lostech machine...a Royal Lostech machine-
“Well spotted” a vaguely familiar voice spoke up and I didn’t jump like I had jump-jets only because I had been holding myself ready on the expectation that someone would probably try to do the whole ‘suddenly from the darkness’ deal to be all mysterious. “Although technically it was a Royal Machine, but NAIS have done a little work on it” the voice continued as I turned to locate the source … and found to my genuine shock, Ardan Sortek stepping out of the darkness.
Okay - this was … unexpected.
No wonder Sarge has been acting so weird this morning around me...
“Colonel” I greeted him as I pushed past the shock, as I started to come to attention but he waved me back to stand easy.
“Hats off John” he instructed, indicating that he was talking to me ‘Ardan to John’ not ‘Colonel to Cadet’ … but even so he clearly paused to take in my AFFS BDUs and nodded in approval, clearly thinking back to to the mission on Helm and the fact as a ‘MIIO field agent’ I had winged about being forced to wear an AFFS uniform without rank on the grounds that I wasn’t a serving member of the AFFS.
This uniform I had earned with far far too many pushups.
“Uniform looks good on you” he said, with the smile of a friend rather than the approval of an Officer.
“Well this one certainly fits better” I smiled back as he came to a halt in front of me and I extended my hand, which he took and shook firmly. “So, while it’s always good to see you, after no contact for the last year … what’s with the cloak and dagger?”
“First, I’m sorry about the lack of contact, we all agreed that it would be best for OPPSEC and ensuring you were left alone if we just went dark on you” Ardan apologized, his expression genuinely apologetic. “Lady Melissa especially wanted to keep you as a pen pal, but was convinced by her mother that even through cutouts it risked drawing too much attention to you”.
“Um, thanks” I nodded. “Classes were hard enough without dodging ROM snatch teams. But that begs the question; why are you here now?”
“I’m not here” he corrected me with shrug. “Officially anyway. Unofficially, well, everyone else was getting their Battlemechs today and Hanse and Katrina were both very eager for you to get yours”.
I blinked.
Then I turned back again to the monster looming behind me.
Then I turned back to Ardan and tried to work my mouth.
I think what came out was something like ‘Bwhaaa?’ but from the snort of laughter I think he got the gist of my reaction as he reached into a pocket and pulled out an envelope, handing it over without a word.
I took a deep breath to try and settle the goosebump/butterflies in stomach/tingling feeling as I opened it then took out the single piece of paper and carefully unfolded it, showing an embossed seal of the Federated Suns … no I realized in some shock.
That’s the fist and sunburst of the Federated Commonwealth!
I blinked at the embossed seal inlaid into the rich, textured paper which otherwise just had a verigraph strip and with a deep breath I very carefully pressed by thumb to it.
The strip illuminated as the biometrics checked my thumbprint, then a moment later words started to appear as if by some Harry Potter magic from inside the paper. Starting with a whole bunch of random looking numbers at the top, followed by a short amount of text that I started reading.
To John Smith, Cadet AFFS-3026-44032
As of receipt of this message you are hereby requested and required to take formal possession of Marauder MAD-3FC-001X/SLDF9933931-RC (hereafter referred to as the ‘Battlemech’). Ownership of the Battlemech has been formally transferred to you as of 01/02/3028 in both Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth registries of Battlemech ownership.
All licensing and documentation has been signed to this effect on the above date by First Prince Hanse Davion and Archon Katrina Steiner, including authorization of the use of this Battlemech in AFFS and LCAF authorized military actions and drawing on AFFS and LCAF supply lines per field orders governing the use of personal Battlemechs in both services.
So ordered this day by the order of Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner.
This message will self destruct thirty seconds after verigraph activation-
I yelped in alarm and dropped the paper, jumping back half a step as the last words on the page made my heart jump in my chest, expecting the thing to suddenly ignite or explode or something as it fluttered to the ground and … sat there.
“For the record” Ardan was clearly trying not to laugh, “that last line was Melissa's ‘contribution’”.
Of course it was I silently thought as I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath to control myself.
Nothing in Battletech ever suggested she was such a Troll Queen, or was that something I did?
I still wasn’t entirely sure it was a change for the better.
So I leaned down and carefully recovered the paper, folding it back up and placing it into the envelope and the enveloped into my pocket as it started to sink in that … I owned a Battlemech. A Battlemech gifted to me by Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner. And not just any Battlemech. But a ****** Royal Command NAIS pimped out custom job.
The class is going to go ****** nuts over this I sighed mentally even as increasing parts of me were squeezing in delight… then it caught up with me that Ardan had said ‘For one thing’ and I looked back at him, then glanced around the massive hanger.
“Are we free to talk?” I asked carefully and Ardan nodded to the monster in front of me.
“Yes, but we might as well go for a walk and talk there” he said with a tolerant smile and I fought the very strong desire to squee and run off like a kid being let off the leash to go nuts on a funpark, heading for the cramped spiral staircase come spiral ladder that let us climb up to the upper catwalk and from there, across a retractable gantry and into the mech, stripping out of my field jacket as I entered the sleeping monster.
The cockpit was surprisingly roomy. No so much as the Chameleon which was designed for an instructor to comfortable sit in with a student, but big enough to easily fit Ardan into the Jump Seat behind my chair. I again strangled a squee when I saw the SLDF neurohelmet waiting for me, looking like it was half the size (and felt much less than half the mass) of the monster I had been using and I rapidly shrugged into the SLDF cooling vest hanging from the side of the chair, with long practice. Following that, I kicked the field jacket into a convenient storage locker and sat in the ejection seat, working to strap in and put on the helmet as Ardan in turn stepped into the Mech, slapped the gantry retraction button just outside the hatch and dogged said hatch down.
As I strapped in I checked my controls out; there were a lot more screens and buttons than my Chameleon had been running with. Even so, the layout was clean and the extra systems were clearly bundled into expanded C3 capabilities set apart from the base Mech controls, which were all pretty much identical.
With that said, I was still totally getting a bad case of new toy syndrome here and after a moment to centre myself and not starting to turn on all the other systems and play with them, I flicked on the main computer console to my right.
“Bringing external power online” I called calmly as I keyed the startup sequence.
A humming came as the computers booted and diagnostic data started to scroll down the screens. There was a sudden increase in pressure as the life support systems engaged and brought a positive pressure to the cockpit and I took a second to pop my ears as the life support system stabilized and air started to flow. The screen flashed through several more checklists automatically (and I couldn’t help but notice it was moving through the list MUCH faster than my Chameleons computer) until finally it completed and a single question came up on the main screen.
COMMENCE NEURO HELMET SYNC ON DEFAULTS? Y/N
I grinned and hit Y … and barely managed to avoid doing a Neo style ‘woah’.
There was a brief moment of vertigo as the connection was established and already I could feel that it was a hell of a let better than my old helmet.
I knew that Star League helmets were a lot better at getting a cleaner signal from the brain and back to the brain, but even without having gone through the painstaking day long calibration to tweak the helmet exactly to my brainwaves, it still felt better than my old unit.
I honestly had no idea but it felt gooooood. Like I was twelve meters tall ready to crush everyone under my gigantic -
Okay, no, bad Smith. Bad! No mech cultist attitudes!
I refocused myself on the diagnostic screen to confirm the neural connection was stable -it was- and with a deep breath, hit the button to proceed to the ‘engine start’ checklist, saying the same aloud for Ardans sake-
Buzzzz.
“WARNING” the display said and Betty scolded me, sounding disturbingly like my second grade teacher catching me doing something I wasn’t supposed to do. “VOICE COMMAND SYSTEM AND SECURITY VOICEPRINT SYSTEM NOT ENGAGED. DO YOU WISH TO SETUP NOW?”
I hit no-
Buzzzz.
“WARNING” she again chided me. “MEDICAL SENSORS NULL RESPONSE. ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO PROCEED?”
Ah, that’s right, I hadn’t put on the various sticky sensors onto my skin that monitored my health for the life support systems. But as I wasn’t going into combat, it was hardly necessary to do so I think.
I hit yes-
Buzzzz.
“WARNING” the mech interrupted me once again. “NEUROHELMET CALIBRATION HAS NOT BEEN PERFORMED FOR OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE. ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO PROCEED?”
I wonder if it’s about to note that my copy of Winrar is two and a half centuries past my thirty day evaluation period I thought in annoyance before cultivating my patience and stabbing YES one last time wishing there was a ‘Yes to all’...
Thankfully however, that was the last objection.
First, came was the distinctive humming of the fusion reactor as it ignited and cycled to power. The sound on the external power cable from the Mech bay disconnecting. A click-thud more felt than heard of the Gyro unlocking from parking mode and starting to spin up to operational speed. Then the shiver of actuators across the mech doing ‘micro flexes’ under computer control to confirm they were all good to go as the computer worked through its checklist.
Until, finally, all indicators and displays switched over to normal operational modes and the compressed holographic display activated, projecting a 360 degree view into a 180 degree band along with all the usual tactical and navigation indicators overlaid. Secondary screens switched in sequence showing communications, sensors, weapons and systems status. I made sure to double check the weapons were all SAFE with the MASTER ARM switch clearly set to OFF and that sensors were on passive - you did not power up high frequency phased radars inside the hanger - and with that, in less than sixty seconds I was ready to go.
“Okay, we’re good to taxi” I called over the intercom, feeling a bit of a thrill … and terror ... at that thought as I carefully gripped the two joysticks that controlled my arms and set my feet on the pedals that controlled my throttle … and hesitated.
I mean, I had navigated my Chameleon through the hanger probably a hundred times by now and this would not really be any different even if this beast was half again as heavy.
But … it was. Because this was my Mech.
I remembered when I had finally picked up my very first brand new car back on Earth. How I had driven it out of the showroom ever so carefully, the new car smell everywhere and turned onto the road outside … and freaked out as it hit me that now I was in traffic with other people who might just damage my beautiful new car, or I might damage it I misjudged its handling or something! Making me almost dangerously cautious and timid when driving for a few days.
So I sort of sat there for a time, hesitating as I held the twin joysticks and rested my feet onto the pedals…
“You awake John?” Ardan’s voice cut into my thoughts suddenly and I didn’t quite jump.
“Um, sorry, was just …” I muttered but Ardan actually laughed at me and it seemed to cut the tension knot in my shoulders a little.
“John, relax. We’ve all had that moment when we were given our first Battlemech where we were terrified of so much as scratching it” he assured me, reading my mind casually. “Don’t think about it too much, they’re made to be scratched. Just put it into crawl-mode and call for a run down towards the proving grounds in Alesso, that’ll give us plenty of time to talk”.
“Very good” I agreed, tapping the map display and laying in a NAV point to it. The proving grounds were the live fire grounds for Mech and vehicle combat, almost fifty klicks away from the grounds of the academy proper. There was a nice highway to it reinforced for Mechs and it was NAV-linked with repeater systems on the road, meaning you could literally put your Mech or Tank into autopilot and let it drive itself. More or less.
So I hit the communications board and brought up the preset for the local traffic control, smirking as I took note that the callsign my classmates had ‘assigned’ me had already been loaded onto the board.
“Tower, this is Pappy. Ready to Taxi, requesting transfer to the Gauntlet” I called out to the control tower that brooded over this part of the base and controlled all ground traffic, the better to make sure no idiot firstie stepped on someone.
“Pappy, Tower. You are clear to taxi, follow the green lines you are clear straight out” the tower came back quickly.
“Clear to taxi, follow the Green lines, solid copy” I called back the instructions. The hanger lights ahead of me snapped back to full intensity - although the polarized armored glass didn’t let it get bright enough to annoy me- and a loud BUZZ - BUZZ - BUZZ siren sounded along with flashing yellow lights to tell everyone in the bay that a Mech was about to start moving. I gave it the ten second count as I had been trained and then toggled a switch on my left stick that put the Mech into ‘crawl mode’, governing its speed to a maximum of twenty KPH and locked the torso before pushing the pedals down carefully.
-
The monster under me hesitated and then moved, walking as I swept my gaze carefully both out the window and across my HUD, but the hanger seemed to be completely empty of personnel. The main doors ahead were opening up steadily and I only had to wait a few seconds at the ‘Red Line’ at the front of the hanger until the ‘traffic light’ went green and I walked into the daylight. A quick glance around showed that I was clear and I turned onto the green line, following it around to the perimeter gate and an access road that led me around the edge of the base (and I noticed I got more than a few looks from people inside the buildings and on the grounds behind the fence as I’m pretty sure this was the only Marauder on-campus) before turning onto the highway that led to the spaceport and then the proving and live fire testing grounds beyond, switching off the governor to throttle up to a comfortable 40KPH walk.
Man this thing has a smooth stride I marveled. Word was that ‘chicken-walker’ legs were much more of a rough ride, but this thing was way smoother than my Chameleon had been with a great balance. And the reactor was purring like a kitten, sounding identical to the reactor on my old ride, which was surprisingly comforting.
“So, what do you think?” Ardan spoke up as we accelerated away from the base along the empty, open road as I linked in the autopilot to the traffic control system around the base that would take me along the road without needing me to pay too much attention.
“She’s incredible” I answered, and I think he could hear the grin on my face in my voice. It might have been the more advanced neurohelmet or perhaps just the knowledge that this was my Mech (Gods dammit I was not a ****** Mech cultist, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy stomping around in a giant robot!) but I felt incredibly energized moving along. I also marveled at the fidelity in the holographic HUD and secondary sensor displays compared to the trianing Mech, it was like going from VHS to BlueRay in its resolution and image quality. And the sensors were marvels, easily picking out and tracking things like ASFs doing circuits at the distant spaceport and even what looked like a Mechanized Infantry platoon rolling along in the hills off in the distance. The LIDAR systems presented far higher resolution images of the targets, right down to the unit insignia and splatters of mud.
I mean it didn’t make any practical distance in terms of target acquisition and engagement or anything, but it looked sweet as hell.
Royal Command sure got the best toys.
“So what’s with the modifications to the design?” I asked, trying not to sound too much like a kid who had just opened his present wanting to know how it worked...
“Well like the 3Ds, we stripped out the AC5 and put in a large pulse laser but we mounted it on a new gimbal mount that Independence Weaponry is playing with for their 3Ds - gives 360 degree coverage with the third gun” Ardan explained. “Also a couple of extra mediums on the chin as you saw. We’re hoping to use this design as a prototype for possible future upgrade paths once we get the Lostech back into production. But if nothing else, Independence is very eager to see about rolling out the gimbal mount across the 3D line. These kinds of turrets have always been a bit fragile, but they are reasonably confident this one will hold up”.
“So a bracket fighter” I concluded. “PPCs to lay down long range firepower, lasers up close and the large pulse to add in with the lasers or cover the rear arc?”
“Exactly so” Ardan confirmed as I eyed off the weapons displays.
The PPCs may lack the damage boost of their Clan counterparts, but the extra range – and lack of a minimum if for some reason I didn’t want to use the lasers – was more than welcome.
“And without the ammo and the armor plating reinforced, this thing is going to take a hell of a pounding to put down” I added before letting my smile fade away as I tried to push past the shiny and focus on the small matter of who was in my back seat. “But as eager as I am to give this a run through the testing ranges, I’m guessing we’re not out here to play with the new toy?”
Ardan was silent for a moment and I thought I could hear a sigh.
“No, no we’re not” he agreed. “To business then. “First, congratulations on your progress here. I knew we were throwing you in the deep end here but by all the reports Hanse and I saw from DME, the training staff seem to think very highly of you and your abilities”.
“I’m lucky to have a hell of a team around me” I shrugged, feeling slightly self conscious about the praise. “DD alone seems determined to drag the class average up a few points by himself”.
“DD … Dean-Davion?” Ardan queried and I nodded … then felt like an idiot as I realized Ardan couldn’t see that. “That’s him” I said. “If you looked up the word ‘determination’ in the dictionary you’d see a picture of his face”.
“Well he is a Davion” Ardan snorted at that. “I don’t think a lack of determination, for good or ill, has ever been something they lack”.
“You’ve not wrong” I agreed, thinking about my slightly determined classmate. A very distant cousin of the First Prince who hailed from Argyle, Michael Dean-Davion or ‘DD’ as we all called him was, like most Davions, allergic to anything like favoritism. His work ethic matched mine - although mine was just a frantic attempt to close the gap with my classmates while his was a frantic attempt to push it out further.
On the other hand, like me, he had come in from outside the Mech cult. His branch of the family had a quite proud tradition in aerospace fighters since his great Grandfather been awarded the Golden Sunburst, posthumously, by Andrew Davion for his efforts to avenge his father's assassination, spearheading the Brigade of Guards legendary ‘no quarter!’ curb-stomping of the Warriors Cabal until a freak golden BB had taken him down in the final battle. And since that day, his family had been all about the Aerospace side of the AFFS.
However in an odd inverse of the typical ‘sad story’ in Battletech of someone being dispossessed or losing the ability to pilot a Mech, DD had been invalidated into Battlemech training, having been born with a chemical imbalance in his head that made him increasingly susceptible to spatial disorientation in zero-G maneuvering.
It had clearly been a gut punch to him that he had been unable to carry on the family legacy but he was a Davion with a capital D. His determination to switch to a different track and serve in a different way had won him praise from the very top of the family; with a letter from Hanse Davion delivered to him just after the graduation at boot, personally congratulating him for his success thus far and complimenting him on behalf of the whole extended family for showing Davion metal in the face of adversity. Lauding him for putting aside his preferences for Aerospace combat to find a different way to serve after being medically blocked.
Suffice to say DD had been supercharged from that day on, seemingly desperate to prove himself worthy of his distant uncles praise, to the point we (as in his entire class) had needed to yank him back once or twice.
“At any rate, it wasn’t easy, but I’ve made good friends and earned my place with them” I said, hoping for a quick reading on what this visit was all about. “But, once again, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way to just tell me how well I was doing in basic?”
“What gave it away?” asked said lightly.
“Hanse Davions personal pimp hand does not personally deliver Battlemechs” I said in a deadpan tone.
“Pimp hand … that’ would be like ‘right hand’?” Ardan asked in some confusion.
I opened my mouth, then promptly closed it again.
“Yes” I said instead, not trusting any other answer I might have given.
“Ah. Then yes. I’m sorry, but we’re pulling you out”.
I had half expected that answer, but I couldn’t help but feel a sudden surge of annoyance and anger.
Damnit, I had earned my place here and I was about to be yanked out just before finishing the second tier of Mech training? I mean sure, I had pledged personal alliance to the First Prince and agreed to a position as a personal advisor/aide/guy with him meaning I was emphatically at his disposal … but seriously?
“Can I ask why?” I asked back, trying to hide my feelings before suddenly it hit me that Ardan Sortek would not come to pull me out personally unless something had gone very, very wrong. “Oh God, does ROM know about me or something?”
Okay, now my anger was rapidly turning into ‘I need to get the ****** off this planet before the toaster worshipers attacked!’
“What!? No! Nothing like that. As far as we know, your true history and your ‘official’ cover are both intact” Ardan hastened to explain. “It’s just that Hanse and Katrina have made some recent decisions around coming events … and, well, I’m going to deal with them and we all want you with me when I do so because, frankly, you’re the closest thing to an expert we have and as you were on the way anyway...”
I blinked at that and let my mind swirl for a second to try and think about what in the hell, on the eve of the 4th Succession War, there could be that would require Ardan to personally deal with the situation and bring me -
It was blindingly obvious, really, when I thought about it.
“The Dragoons” I said with certainty. There had been zip in the news about them aside from the occasional border raid, but then if things were running roughly to the events of the original timeline (and I couldn’t see much of a reason why that would change) then the implosion would be inside the Combine where the press of the Federated Suns wouldn’t have visibility.
“The Dragoons” Ardan confirmed, sounding pleased at my deduction and bringing my attention back as I took a deep breath at the confirmation
I thought that there was a general understanding we wouldn’t touch them or their Clan connections with a ten-foot pole until after the 4th Succession War...
“What went wrong?” I asked in a level tone knowing a bad turn could make things rather difficult right now even without touching the Clan baggage. The Dragoons little private war had been one of those things that had actually been something of an authorial fiat WTF. Take them out of the equation or worse, have them remain with the Draconis Combine and the Federated Suns front with the Combine could have been a bloody disaster. Their actions both on Misery and then in the 4th Succession War had not quite single handedly held the line to allow the Lyrans to stomp the Combine in the other direction and allowed the AFFS to give one of the biggest curbstomps in Battletech history to the Confederation for minimal losses to the Combine … but it hadn’t been that far off either.
Time was not running on rails, that I was reasonably confident of now, but the 4th Succession War had been deep into the first layer of operational movements to set up Hanse’s punchline at the wedding by the time I was thrown into this universe and trying to cover for the Dragoons situation turning the wrong direction was-
“On the contrary, it’s more of a question of what went right” Ardan corrected me. “To bring you up to speed, MIIO and DMI were running a number of operations to take advantage of the information ‘Wolves on the Border’ brought to us as well as your own recollections of events. I’m taking it you remember Captain Frank Woomack?”
I thought back. For obvious reasons I had not been allowed to keep copies of my Battletech material, but I had read and re-read them many times in the lead up to my meeting with Kym in the park and the name triggered a memory … ah, right.
“He was a Dragoon taken as a POW after one of their raids against the Suns right? And Quintus used him to backchannel a message to Jamie Wolf?”
“Just so” Sortek confirmed before pausing as a twin Beep Beep ping from the sensor console indicated a new contact and I saw a pair of Ripper VTOLs sweeping over the hills to the left and curving up the valley in a tight two-by-two formation - seemingly wanting to take a closer look at me. I triggered the long-range optics and scanned, seeing the troops in the back pointing at my Mech and raised a right arm in salute in return as they whipped past at which point Ardan continued.
“Things played out much the same way this time around on Udibi and he was taken as a POW” Ardan continued, “although it seems several of his subordinates who were present in the novel evaded capture. At any rate, Quintus again used him as a back channel to Jamie Wolf ... but this time he gave him a holodisk to take to Jamie Wolf - and I mean directly as we brought him to New Avalon to brief him on quite a few things in play - before handing the holodisk over and sending him back to the Combine, due to arrive at Alpha Regiment a week before Jamie would have returned from visiting Luthien”.
“... This is going to be either brilliant or catastrophic isn’t it?” I muttered - just loud enough for my microphone to pick it up given the snort that came from behind me.
“Well, that remains to be seen. The takeaway I can give you right now from our sources is that the attempt to take the Hephaestus ran straight into Seventh Kommando, which in turn led to the ‘patriot’ team being wiped out. They blew their demolition charges when it was clear they had walked into an ambush. Took a chunk out of the station, but it was still more or less intact. Someone, we think Akuma, their PSL, panicked at this point and things spiraled much more quickly out of control but the Dragoons were ready and fought back, hard. Far more aggressively than they did in the original timeline given by your material, preempting the DCMS moves”.
“Interesting” I muttered. “Wolf was almost suicidal determined in the original timeline, against his Officers, to stick to the contact with the Combine in the face of every possible provocation. On the grounds that if they didn’t they would be labeled renegades by the entire Inner Sphere”.
Of course if you knew that you would be declared renegades by the Combine no matter what you did as part of a state level plot, well, you might as well be declared renegades for making the first punch rather than taking it, I guess…
“The Prince noticed that as well” Ardan agreed. “So, he made it a point on the holodisk to include a message assuring Jamie that he knew the claims against the Dragoons and Kerensky were falsehoods - even included a vid message from Archon Steiner saying the same thing just for good measure … and let him know that his Hegira plan was compromised by the ISF via a traitor named Fadre Singh”.
I took a few seconds to swallow that bombshell as I tried to think through the implications.
Hanse Davion had forced Jamie Wolf to save himself.
Well, someone had to do it if he wasn’t going to…
“So … Jamie knows that Hegira is compromised. Doesn’t know for sure Kurita knows, but Davion knows and named a traitor in his unit now working for the Combine who was briefed on the plan and is being fingered … so he can’t take the chance. He has to move first. So when these ‘patriots’ try to seize his space station exactly as he was warned, he skips the slow slide into war and launches a pre-emptive attack to break out?”
“Something like that” Ardan said and I could hear the shrug in his voice. “Communications are still a bit confused, but the dependents got clear safely while Jamie, once more, went to Misery … and found some help waiting for him to tip the odds a little in his favor”.
“Oh?”
“Cranston Snord”.
-
It was a good thing my Mech was on autopilot as I’m sure I would have stumbled at that announcement.
“...once more?” I asked after a few seconds of dead silence and working my jaw.
“Nondi Steiner paid him a visit at the start of the year” Ardan explained and I could hear the grin in his voice now. “Well she and most of the 3rd Royal Guards who were redeploying towards the Terran regions. She dropped in at 3AM local time having not told him they were coming. First hint they Snord got was when the museums security guards hit the alarm button and screamed that a fleet of dropships were landing a few kilometers away. Then Nondi Steiner, casual as anything, walked the rest of the way on foot … flanked by a battalion of Mechs on each side. The Irregulars started to deploy before realizing who had come knocking and stood down. Snord came out to greet her and…”
“She let him have it with both barrels?” I shivered. I had actually made my peace with Nondi on the day I left Tharkad when she had taken me aside and we had had a bit of a heart to heart. A few mangled ‘Your future hasn’t been written yet’ and ‘No fate but what we make for ourselves’ quotes from Back to the Future and Termination had gotten my point across in the end as she promised me that she would stand with her family - and the Federated Commonwealth, never against it and we had left on decent terms as I promised to only judge her actions.
By the same token, I could guess easily exactly how she would have felt about Snords actions. How he - on Jamies orders - had repaid her sisters strong loyalty to him over the disdain of much of the LCAF with, well … breach of contract was about as nice as it could be said, treason as a landholding Lyran noble nominally was a very real thing-
“Actually … no” Ardan chuckled and I blinked.
“No?” I asked incredulously and again tried to turn around and face him before remembering I was strapped into a moving Battlemech and felt my face flush. “The man took a Castle Brian on a Lyran planet for a landhold as a Lyran landholder, didn’t tell her sister about it, operated under the directions of someone other than his employer and, most recently, actively worked to hide a whole butload of Lostech Star League technology from his employer rather than give her a set share of it as was required? And … she didn’t chew him up and spit him out?”
“Not at all” Ardan explained and again I could hear the smile. “Didn’t you know Smith, that Katrina had actually known about his little Castle Brian from almost the beginning when LIC investigated why he was so determined to pick this specific bit of land for his landhold?”
“...I did not” I started to smile as I saw where Ardan was going with this.
“Ah, then you also didn’t know that Katrina had been watching him the whole time - as well as his secret communications and orders from Jamie Wolf all along?”
“I did not, but it certainly sounds like something she would do after having her suspicions raised” I let my smile grow into a full scale smirk. So that’s how Katrina played it...
“Indeed!” Ardan said. “So, I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you either that she knew all along that he had lied about what he had recovered from that Colossus on Phecda? And she in fact was fully aware that it had been full of Lostech he had hidden from her and that he had underreported its cargo load too?”
“Not at all, given what you just told me” I agreed in as exaggerated a solemn voice as I could manage before snorting and rolling my eyes. “Okay, so he was caught red handed. What happened next?”
“Nondi pretty much told him she was here to audit his Castle and with ten times more guns than he had backing her up and the full legal authority from Katrina, he had little choice but to take her downstairs … at which point she asked him how long to get all the Lostech he had stashed away mounted on his Mechs and all the Lostech mechs here back into action. And what Lostech spares he needed to retrofit his other Mechs up to the same level-”
My jaw now did drop open. “She what?”
“-and also swapped him two lances of Thugs from the Helm cache for two mixed lances of contemporary machines. Plus augmented his Lostech hoard with hundreds of tons of Gauss Rifles, extended range energy weapons and EW gear. Then shoved him onto his dropships and sent him skipping across what shipping was available into the Draconis March” Ardan explained calmly. “After he was away, she and the 3rd did a thorough sweep of his base with his daughter before leaving, confirming they had accounted for everything. So when Jamie Wolf reached Misery, Snord jumped in to meet him via a Pirate point about the same time and invited himself to the party, without so much as a by-your-leave. Although honestly, Cranston didn’t leave Wolf much choice - and I suspect that Wolf was glad he came back for what might have been the Dragoons final stand”.
“So … Misery went better than originally?”
“Snords people seemed to provide the edge Wolf needed - and the will to do more than engage in an angry slugging match. Add to that the fact the Irregulars probably had had more practice than anyone in the Inner Sphere at raiding and running rings around superior forces and the fact that Wolf detached the Black Widows to operate with him...”
Even without seeing him, I could see Ardan wince and I understood the sentiment. Cranston Snord and Natasha Kerensky both led incredibly skilled, mobile raiding forces who thrived when the odds were against them. Facing them together wasn’t simply a question of facing the sum of their parts …
“We have not gotten Wolfs full report yet, he’ll deliver it to me when I arrive. But from what our sources on the ground and a spyship Quintus had sulking in-system somewhere tell us, it was for the Combine, even more of a bloodbath than the original battle. It seems that Snord and Kerensky kept their little force away from the rest of the Dragoons and well hidden. When the DCMS forces moved against the Dragoons main force, they managed to work their way around, undetected, to smash into Tetsuhara’s headquarters with nearly two battalions of Mechs, mostly upgraded, without any warning. They pretty much trashed the place and obliterated his air support, ammo stores and anything else they could burn - even knocked out a number of his dropships before withdrawing at the exact same time as Wolf launched his ambush of the Ryuken at the Opdal Glacial Fields. The 8th Sword had already diverted to cover the HQ attack rather than relieve the Ryuken and it seems Kerensky and Snord led them on a wild goose chase probably using the Satellite recon data to keep outmaneuvering the Sword and their enhanced weapons to snipe them down. And without the 8th to force Jamie to pull back from mauling the main battle line or a threat of enemy Aerospace assets, Jamie pressed hard and unleashed his own air support. It was too much and the DCMS units lost all cohesion. Tetsuhara managed to rally about a regiment and a half from the disaster and pulled back to his ruined base with another half regiment of the Sword of Light, calling for Samsonov to deploy immediately and reinforce”.
“Let me guess” I said dryly. “He didn’t show up?”
“How did you guess?” Ardan asked dryly. “Of course, he might have been a tad distracted by the fact that the DCMS jumpships at the Zenith point were being overrun by an AFFS naval squadron”.
I blinked.
Then I blinked again.
“The what?”
“It was Yvonne Davions plan. She took a hell of a gamble on your sources John, but it seemed to have paid off. She pulled together a dozen mixed assault ships crammed with marines, even sweet talked Nondi into loaning her two Achilles class ships from the LCAF. I think the spy ship Quintus had in system must have had a Black Box, because the assault team arrived when the Kuritan jumpships were at three quarters charge with the DCMS landing on Misery. One Jumpship was scuttled by its crew, another blew their drive when they tried to hot load it, most of the rest were taken without any critical damage and were jumped out under a jamming net - Samsonov only found out when they missed their daily status check in, stopped answering and sent a dropship to investigate. He had his own Jumpships with him behind the moon he was sulking on and rather than reinforce failure, he took on the surviving Sworders and jumped out.”
“That’s going to blow a massive hole in Galedon” I let my mind furiously work - while keeping half an eye on my Mechs systems, shifting slightly in the harness as I considered things. Jumpships were not something that could be replaced so easily. Hell, I’m actually surprised that Yvonne Davion had risked reprisals against the AFFS and LCAF Jumpship fleets by grabbing them like that. It was something, barely, acceptable, boarding Jumpships and capturing them intact. But it was still an infrequent thing. That many Jumpships being taken in a coordinated raid, especially against the Combine who had a long policy of conveniently ignoring rules of war and conventions of war (and if necessary, blaming an ‘overzealous officer’ who would gladly take their own life in ‘apology’ with their family secretly rewarded for such a sacrifice).
Still, I wouldn’t tell my Grandmother to suck eggs and Yvonne Davion was the AFFS’s ultimate Grandmother, so I would just hope she knew what she was doing.
“The Dragoons switched sides, the Ryuken gone, Galedon Regulars trashed and the shipping to move more units in or around gone ... Takashi is not going to be happy”.
“Oh, it gets better – or worse depending which side of the border you are sitting on” Ardan assured me and I could hear his satisfied smirk. “As soon as we had conformation Misery was underway, Hanse unleashed the Eridani Light Horse on objective raids against the Combine, targeting the worlds all these units had left naked, with orders to burn every warehouse, military base and weapons stockpile they could find – so long as it was not going to endanger civilian targets of course. Each regiment had two worlds to hit and if they’re on time, they should be jumping back into our space within the next week or so”.
“Well that’s certainly a way to rub salt in the Dragons wounds” I muttered. Give Hanse Davion some future knowledge, he does not ****** around. “Anything else happen that I should know about? Oh. anything happen with the New Dallas Core?”
“Recovered in May last year. It’s at NAIS being analyzed. Annoyingly and as crazy as it sounds John, you’ve almost give us too much too fast. We just don’t have enough qualified and cleared people at NAIS to focus on this many things at once! Still, our first analysis of the core does confirm it seems to have just about every military platform, engine system and weapons system put into service since before the Age of War to the Star Leagues fall, including quite a few the Helm Core does not have”.
“Don’t suppose it has HPG data?” I asked hopefully.
“First thing we checked” he sighed. “I’m afraid not; we’re going to have to do that the hard way from first principles”.
“A pity, but I suppose we’ll have to just settle for a straight flush rather than the royal flush” I huffed. So, Helm and New Dallas ticked off? That meant that the nascent Federated Commonwealth pretty much held all the cards in terms of Star League technology, minus a few niche outliers. Which reminded me. “How about Nighthawks?”
“Also a negative there” Ardan said, almost apologetically.
“Oh well, can’t win em all” I shrugged against my straps. “Any other lostech news?”
“We commenced final model Freezer production at the start of this year” Ardan informed me in a matter of fact way that made me jerk my head up in surprise from the sensor board.
“Production - hang on a minute, wasn’t this supposed to be the year of no activity!?”
“No new activity, yes” the Colonel agreed as we strode past a small convoy of cargo trucks trundling down in the other direction and I very carefully made sure the autopilot kept us on a nice straight line and didn’t walk us into them. “But remember that even before you showed up, the Federated Suns had been not quite openly investing a lot of time and effort to recreate Freezers, from Hoff in the 3020s onwards” Ardan reminded me. “Kincaid Defiance Industries were already subcontracted to build the finalized prototypes for field use, we just gave them the data, quietly, to upgrade to full production of the ultimate Star League version … after Katrina's people found the mole you had warned us about of course. Can you believe it was the CEO himself, Simon Kincaid”.
“The CEO? Seriously? Why? Was he a deep cover Maskirovka agent or something?”
“Nothing so clever. Apparently the Capellans just offered him a lot of money”.
I think my silence served as a decent enough ‘Flat What’ to that statement.
“So … he had a license to print money and customers in the AFFS and LCAF who would want every single unit he could build from now until forever … and he sold out to the Capellans?”
“I don’t understand it either” Ardan admitted and I could hear the shrug in his voice “or, more likely, LIC isn’t telling us everything. At any rate, they are confident it was him and after the Molehunters pulled him up and handed him off to LOKI...” his voice trailed off at that.
“Go on” I asked after steeling myself, feeling a tinge of guilt and trying to squelch it. Traitor or not, I was the one who had set the mole hunters on his trail. Which meant, essentially, I was responsible for what had happened to him. LOKI were hyper-fanatics at the best of times. Against genuine traitors that Katrina and Simon Johnson would green light their methods to be used on? Honestly, I didn’t want to even think down that line, lest I have enough high-octane nightmare fuel to last me months...
“Well, with the mole eliminated, Katrina authorized the release of both some technological samples and the engineering data from the Helm Core, under very tight control, to KDI. They spent most of last year upgrading their lines and perfecting the process but they managed to get their first production run done just after New Years. Current production is two hundred per month, should be up to about six hundred per month by end of the year”.
“Nice. Very nice” I smiled broadly. Double Heat Sinks were the single greatest upgrade to 3025 era technology, bar none – that held just as true in Batletech as in here. Prototypes had been played with since not long after NAIS opened - as Ardan had just reminded me - but like a lot of ‘Level 2’ technologies there had been a left-hand/right-hand deal in FASA over exactly what was ‘really’ going on in the Battletech universe. With Stackpole writing the Clans technology as entirely out of context and the Inner Sphere starting a crash weapons program from Clan salvage and Jamie Wolfs help … while the sourcebooks had the technology starting to come online in the 3030s at a glacial rate and genuine ‘Level 2’ technology in the 3040s … all of which was mysteriously missing when the Clans attacked anyway.
It seemed that history would take a different path this time around (it damn well would if I had anything to say about it!) much sooner than originally. Even six hundred units per month wasn’t terribly much to work with, half a Battlemech Regiment at best, but it would provide plenty of spare parts for the Helm units until production really kicked off. And allow testing of upgrade kits and so on…
“Well keep in mind the pulse laser and extended range PPCs are not in production” Ardan cautioned me, like a parent telling their hyper-active kid on Christmas day to be careful with their shiny new toy. “Ditto the armor plating to try not to get too banged up - oh, turn off here”.
“Here?” I frowned in some surprise.
“Here” he confirmed and I flicked off the autopilot and turned off the road onto the access road … to the spaceport. And the distinctive shape of a Union class dropship sitting on the pad in the colors of the Davion Guard. My stomach tightened at that.
“...we’re not going to the firing range are we” I sighed - and I actually felt genuinely annoyed at that, because I really wanted to blow shit up with this thing.
And that was not Mech Cult.
That was just New Toy Syndrome.
“And I’m not going to be able to say goodbye either” I added.
“I’m afraid not John” Sortek apologized - and sounded sincere but his tone left no room for debate, he just switched to Colonel Mode. “Your kit was packed up as soon as you left your barracks and shipped here. As soon as your Mech is loaded up, we’re going to be launching and making a 2G burn to jump a couple of ships to get to Robinson before Wolf, who should be arriving a day after we do, if we can hold to the schedule. Then, you and I are heading for Robinson to have it out with Wolf - and Snord. Possibly Sandoval depending on how that briefing goes. If all goes well, we’ll win the Dragoons over to the Federated Commonwealth as a key - possibly the key - part of the long term plan to deal with a Clan Invasion”.
“And if all doesn’t go well?” I asked dryly as I lined up very carefully for the ramp up to the Mech bay I was being directed into.
“Worst case scenario, you may well get a chance to see how your new Mech does in combat after all!” he said sounding far too cheerful for my liking.
“Swell” I deadpanned as I ascended into the crowded dropships Mech bay and lined up to the gantry clearly meant for me. As I turned around and backed into place, I saw the bay door was already closing up and I could hear the rumble of the ships massive fusion reactor starting its power up cycle. I took one last look at Sakhara and sighed.
All without knowing that I wouldn’t see four fifths of my classmates alive, ever again.
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rereading it on that page is a pain. way tomany off rails.
? Why not use the threadmarks tab, and skip all the garbage? Nevermind.
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As much as it's clear that everyone talks ALL AT ONCE on SB (which is why I never posted on other game/theme sites: The fear of my own posts being buried), it's also clear that SB's forum has many bells & whistles that make me salivate (the Thread, Side Story tabs specifically). What is annoying that IDK which forum to follow for this story. SB or here, because I'm clearly hooked for this line of thought...
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? Why not use the threadmarks tab, and skip all the garbage? Nevermind.
did not know about them to you said something. he just posted what I had been looking for.
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I have been reading the other stuff, mostly decent stuff since the unlock, but damn they can write faster than i read, I can sign in and see I am three pages back, read for three pagds and I am three from the end because there is so much crosstalk
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Wait, WTF
All without knowing that I wouldn’t see four fifths of my classmates alive, ever again.
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Of gods I'm glad to not have to try and wade through that other thread on SB any more. More please sir!
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Of gods I'm glad to not have to try and wade through that other thread on SB any more. More please sir!
Really? I actually prefer it. That 'Threadmark' system is a real advantage.
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Yeah, but the threadmarks aren’t worth the constant derails and second-guessing the authors.
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Yeah, but the threadmarks aren’t worth the constant derails and second-guessing the authors.
But with the threadmarks you won't even see that.
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so how many mec RGTs did the FC have or use in the 4th SW?. why do I want to know. Smith said that 600 DHS will refit half a RGT a month. I was wondering how many months (in a perfect world) it would take to complete this upgrade.
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we don't know how fast production is going to grow; therefore any numbers we come up with are arsepulls. My pull is that militia regiments in cold areas are likely to be using SHS for years to a decade.
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we don't know how fast production is going to grow; therefore any numbers we come up with are arsepulls. My pull is that militia regiments in cold areas are likely to be using SHS for years to a decade.
when Smith got his mech, he was told that current DHS output was 200 per month, then 600 per month by the end of the year (3027?). all of those SHS that are pulled out of front line machines could keep or get a few machines back into combat form in those cold area. win-win
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They might save those single HS for vehicles and the rare Light unit that can't generate enough heat to overwhelm them easily.
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Truth be told the hs would do the most good on the combine front. Liao forces come off as almost completely iimcompetent in most cases during the war.
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so how many mec RGTs did the FC have or use in the 4th SW?. why do I want to know. Smith said that 600 DHS will refit half a RGT a month. I was wondering how many months (in a perfect world) it would take to complete this upgrade.
36 frontline RCTs and 12 frontline Mech regiments, 24 March Militias and 5 regiment-strength training cadres.
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Geez, Drak. Sometimes you scare me just a bit.
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What? It's in the House Davion book.
I just cracked open the book, counted and posted.
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Okay, time to bring everyone here up to date with the last chapter as I put the finishing touches on the next one :)
Chapter 12: Stormy, with a chance of raining Omnimechs.
Getting to Robinson wasn’t terribly hard. It was a mere three jumps away from Sakhara V and a command circuit was available to take us - by the expedient of holding an AFFS Star Lord at Franklin for a day and kicking an AFFS cargo dropship off it on the grounds of ‘I’m Colonel Ardan Sortek, deal with it’.
They probably weren't too happy about that as Jumpship connections could take weeks to reshuffle. And right now, with GALAHAD III sucking up every Jumpship like Grover Shraplen sucked up crazy (yes that unfortunately was a ‘thing’) they might be stuck there for a while.
Lucky them. Apparently, it had quite excellent ski slopes and it was the height of tourist season. We meanwhile were flying straight into the storm. Lucky us.
Ardan spent the time catching me up on much of the goings on and changes to Operations RAT and Götterdämmerung. Not everything - as it turned out I didn’t have a need to know for a great many things. Which was oddly frustrating from the point of view of a Battletech fan - but perfectly understandable from an OPPSEC point of view. Hell, Ardan himself pointed out that he didn’t have a need-to-know for quite a few of the things I asked about either.
Which was fine, but he had a lot more experience around being kept in the dark. For me? I was just trying not to think of how many millions of troops I knew were even now heading unknowingly to their jump off points. And how many of them were green troops just like my classmates being thrust into this war … and how many of them who might have lived would now die thanks to my actions.
All I could hope was that in the long run my actions would save more lives than would be lost in the original timeline. And try not to think about if some of those who deserved death would now live … and some of those who lived this time I’d much rather had died...
Still, I was let in on quite a bit of information, probably more than anyone outside the AFFS and LCAF high commands. Most interesting for me was the news about the Black Boxes or ‘Fax Machines’. The super-secret FTL communications technology Katrina had found while playing pirate back in the day and shared with Hanse and the NAIS. They were nowhere near as good as HPGs in terms of transmission speed or bandwidth, being barely 25 light years per day with 200kb messages able to be sent every three hours ... but they were blacker than deep space without ComStar having the first clue of their existence and any transmission from a Black Box could be picked up by another one within a hundred light year radius of the transmitter making them actually more efficient at general broadcasts.
Of course their biggest feature was that ComStar didn’t know they existed. I had been screaming loudly since day one about how ComStar was by far was the greatest enemy of the Federated Commonwealth - and humanity in general. And it turned out when an inter-universal traveler with detailed knowledge of the future arrived to point to an already generally distrusted faction and screamed ‘EVIL!’ ... people listened and threw money and resources around.
There was now a fully operational network of sixty automatic Fax Machine stations spread throughout both Federated Commonwealth states. Taking a page out of ComStars DRUM network, the vast bulk of the units were on unmanned platforms in deep space, light years from any inhabited planet, their exact coordinates recorded only on ultra-secure drives on New Avalon and Tharkad. That was the beauty of the technology of course; while a HPG transmitted to a single point and needed to know exactly where it was, a black box broadcasted omnidirectionally through space up to a radius of about a hundred light years. When such transmissions arrived, the deep space Black Boxes simply checked if it had seen it before and, if not, retransmitted them bit for bit. The endpoint units on the capitals, PDZ command worlds and being modified into select Command Dropships that we’re the start and endpoints had computer ‘codebooks’ that squeezed the most out of that 200 KB per message limit by allowing most any generic order to be encoded against lookup tables, allowing surpassingly detailed orders to be sent to multiple units.
While the network was certainly not going to replace HPGs in a practical way, as a backup to keep a military going in a state of war, it was a hell of an improvement over trying to use precious Jumpships as couriers. Apparently, Galahad II / Thor I had tested the system on a theater scale and after some tweaking it was now ready to go just in case (or more probably when) ComStar mashed the ‘INTERDICT!’ button like a face mashing Inquisitor going for the Exterminatus control.
Probably also yelling ‘****** Heretics!’ while doing it.
And on that topic, a lot of modeling had been done on the economic effects of an interdiction against the Suns. While there were limits to what could be done without either a ****** more Jumpships and/or a great deal more time and money or taking actions that would loudly say we were expecting an interdiction; efforts had been made to build critical civilian stockpiles and update contingency plans to try and smooth out some of the economic issues that would result from ComStar shutting down the Federated Suns HPG network up to and including secret legal changes around thinks like interplanetary banking. I’m sure Hanse had plans well advanced to deny ComStar the excuse based on events in the original timeline, but in one form or another a ComStar-FedCom showdown was probably inevitable at some point in this war.
The trick was to just make sure ComStar didn’t realize that win, lose or draw this round, the next round would be the end for their ****** toaster worshiping cult.
The final end. Oh, I got happy tingly thoughts thinking about that!
So. The board was just about set and the pieces were moving. While the ‘abort’ order could technically be given anytime up to the sealed orders to the unit commanders were opened, in practical terms the Fourth Succession War was now on automatic countdown. We had hit ‘the great deep breath before the plunge’ as Gandalf might have put it and as the Inner Sphere started to turn its head towards Terra, Ardan and I hastened to get the final piece onto the board.
*
**
******
**
*
“Don’t look down!”
I did of course - and regretted it immediately as the long long distance between my Mech and the ground -or lack thereof - became clear. My Marauder seemed to shake slightly before the Gyro kicked in and compensated for the spike of vertigo from the neurohelmet, adjusting my stride between steps so fast few would have noticed.
Ardan did, from the snort of laughter down the communications line. I tactfully ignored his playing with me though as I continued onto the bridge behind him, trying to ignore the slight feeling of it giving ever so slightly with each footstep.
“Are you sure this thing is safe?” I couldn’t help but ask as I looked back up, resolutely not looking down at the ocean washing around a long way under us. And equally not focusing on the thought that unlike Sortek; my Mech lacked the jump jets to have a fighting chance of surviving the collapse of the massive suspension bridge.
Don’t think about that MW2: Mechs mission with the bridge blowing up and dropping you, do NOT think about that MW2: Mechs mission with the bridge blowing up and dropping you…
“It’s rated as Assault-One” the Colonel assured me from his Victor. “Just ignore the give when you put your foot down, it’s designed to do that."
“I’ll take your word for it” I muttered to myself, trying to not cringe too much at that tiny bounce in the bridge. Or how if I looked just to the left or right I could see the sparkling blue oceans. The three Northbound lanes of the bridge were more than wide enough for our ‘Mechs to cross - with military utility vehicles preceding and following us to give us plenty of room - but from this perspective it really felt like I was walking a tightrope between two cliffs with a very long fall under me.
Still, I had to admit that even if the view inspired vertigo it was stunning, with a sparkling sea and distant humps of islands scattered off to the horizon to my left while to my right was the capital city of the Draconis March itself. The Beuller Victory bridge had been built to replace a bridge destroyed by the DCMS as they retreated from Robinson during its liberation in the 3rd Succession War and reminded me (as did the harbor city for that matter) of Sydney in a lot of ways, causing a brief pang of homesickness to work its way through me. But while the Sydney Harbor Bridge crossed the harbor well back down the harbor from the ocean, this bridge was built right on the cliffs of the harbor head itself. Which put it a very impressive 300 meters above sea level.
It was also the fastest way from the spaceport we had landed at to the South, to reach our destination to the North.
Although why we were taking our Battlemechs to our meeting and not just a damn staff car? It was pretty much ‘Simon Says’ except ‘Ardan says’. Different name; the same rules as far as the AFFS and Federated Suns were concerned. I honestly didn’t think Jamie Wolf and his staff would care one way or the other what we arrived in, but Ardan insisted that arriving as MechWarrior’s in Mechs with full formality and declaring of privilege would do far more to stop any … rash … actions than anything else.
And we didn’t have to stop for traffic lights either which was cool.
It seemed the people of Robinson were used to Battlemechs walking through their city in peacetime, strange as that sounded. There was a network of elevated roads running above key highways in urban areas and alongside them when there was more room, reserved for the use of military and emergency vehicles and specifically built to easily take the heaviest of Battlemechs. They could even serve, according to Ardans ‘tour guide’ talk, as VTOL staging points with things like strategically placed and reinforced multi-story car parks easily converted in a crisis into FARP hangers for VTOLs and Aerospace fighters that had STOVL capability. All pretty cool, but even March Capitals didn’t have so much money that would casually build spare bridges just for military traffic … so we were stomping across it and causing wonderful ripples as we turned an 80 zone into a 40 zone during school pickup hour.
The glares I could see in my compressed display from the soccer moms were only offset by the very excited kids plastering their face to their widows and waving wildly.
I had ever waved back a couple of times … until Ardan told me not to. Spoilsport.
In any event we reached the far side of the bridge without me falling off and veered off quickly onto a separate military road, letting the traffic shoot off to the right where the highway descended down to the foreshore areas. Our road however kept heading Northeast along the top of the escarpment beyond. The region North of here was pretty much entirely Fort Susan Sandoval, named after some war hero of the ruling family from the Succession Wars. It was less a defensive fortification and much more of a staging ground though, with massive warehouses, airbases, machine shops and even a decent spaceport - pretty much at or over capacity with the dropships of the Dragoons packed in there now, hence our long walk from a DMM spaceport on the other side of the city. The outer perimeter of the grounds was not terribly impressive - just a chain-link fence and a guard post with a single fire team who waved us through, but my passive sensor systems were able to tag a well camouflaged observation post on the summit of the tall cliff overlooking the region. And, as we passed through a cutting dug through the cliff – too tall for vehicles or ‘Mechs without jump-jets, my systems also marked a dozen different static autocannon and short-range missile mounts that could turn our little switchback valley into the valley of death at a moment's notice, so, the base wasn't exactly undefended. Clear of that cutting, we emerged onto the reverse side of the slope, which dropped down ahead of us to show the massive staging grounds stretching out to the horizon, with the sparkling sea off to the left … hang on, were those explosions in the water?
“Possible weapons fire, three-ten” I communicated tersely to Ardan as I torso twisted in instinct to face what was increasingly clearly the distinctive black puffs of air bursts and orange zips of tracers. With a flick of my thumb switching my T&T systems from NAV to TACTICAL as Ardan too turned and came to a halt, the two of us reaching out with our Mechs eyes to see … a mixed Lance of Blackjacks and Riflemen running Dragoons transponders standing on the cliff edge at the source of the fire. They were facing the ocean and even as Ardan and I watched, a startlingly fast blip leapt into the air from a barge well out in the sea, the rocket tipping over in the air to swoop down towards the waves, barely avoiding crashing as it spent along a sea-skimming height. First it headed towards the shore -and us!- and my fingers unconsciously reached towards the MASTER ARM switch at that, but the missile hauled around and streaked along then, parallel to the shore on a course that would take it past the waiting mechs. A buzzing warbling sounded in my headphones - scatter from directional high-frequency targeting sensors seeking a lock - and hazey cones of golden light like virtual searchlights materialized around the waiting air defense Mechs holographic images and then even as the drone seemed to start bounding and rolling in a bewilderingly impossible way in response as it aligned to slash past the Mechs-
One single perfectly coordinated burst barked from the black and red Mechs and the target rocket was turned into confetti.
“Impressive, aren't they?” Ardan read my mind as another drone no two - four!- blasted off and again entered the live fire zone, this time with dizzyingly different trajectories, heights and course changes … and once again, none of them come out as the four Air Defense Mechs split their fire and engaged each target simultaneously with brutal efficiency.
Their ‘turn’ clearly over, the quartet of Mechs powered down their sensors turned line astern and started to walk off the firing range. And with the fireworks over, Ardan started moving again and I fell into step smoothly, switching my HUD back to NAV mode.
“Very impressive” I admitted now as we stomped along, carefully making sure to leave plenty of room as a convoy of DMM APCs headed past us in the other direction. “But I suppose if you’ve survived everything the Dragoons have been through up to now, you’re either incredibly good, incredibly lucky … or both”.
“You’ll get there” Ardan assured me like a coach patting his player on the back after he was pulled from the lineup and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his earnest tone. Ardan had made it a point to apologize for dragging me out of training several times, even though the written orders from Hanse Davion made it clear this was not his idea, but that of his boss - and in actual fact, my boss as well. All members of the AFFS were ultimately sworn to the service of Hanse Davion of course and nominally all orders carried the implicit authority of Hanse Davion by people authorized to speak on his behalf....
But I had sworn my service and allegiance personally to him what seemed like a lifetime ago … meaning my orders explicitly came from him and left zero wiggle room to question them.
Privately question the sanity of them, by all means; just so long as in the end I obeyed them.
Ours is not to reason why, ours is just to do … and … see if Natasha Kerensky pulls a sidearm and starts blasting when you accidently trigger her?
I made a face. Tennyson, it was not.
At the bottom of the hill we turned right as the road forked, following the signs (and TACMAP nav points for that matter) towards GATE-One, parallel to a more serious inner perimeter fence. Double chain link with manned watchtowers every half klick or so and with an anti-Mech trench between the two, it wasn’t exactly imposing but it was an effective barrier for hostile units without Jump Jets. And covered with enough sensors to make life difficult even for a DEST team should one try to sneak in.
Just ahead was the main gate and standing by it were a Lance of Battlemechs on sentry duty. And while two of them were indeed painted in the Black with Red highlights of the Wolf Dragoons … two were painted a very different color indeed.
That had been the work of Aaron Sandoval; Archduke of the Draconis March and Duke of Robinson. The man had welcomed the Dragoons dependents upon arrival who had escaped while the combat arm of the Dragoons slugged it out on Misery, escorted by a provisional battalion of mixed Dragoons troops calling themselves the Home Guard. Mostly trainees let by a lance or two of Veterans, the Archduke had, forewarned by Hanse, already organized a secure place for them to ground and settle in for the anxious wait for their combat arms to join them.
And in a stroke of genius, he had made sure they had houseguests to wait with them.
After all, the civilians, even if they were military families, were understandably shaken by their narrow escape from the Combine and how rapidly the Combine had turned against them and might need some help settling back in to a civilized society, especially after the ‘siege’ mentality the Combine had put the entire Dragoons family under. So, on arriving they had found they were going to be sharing their new digs with a fellow Mercenary unit. Or more specifically with said unit off vigorously rubbing salt in the wounds of the Dragon; it was the dependents of the Eridani Light Horse, guarded by the 8th Recon and 50th Heavy Cavalry Battalions of same who would be their next door neighbors.
I, of course, knew the story of the ELH - I’m sure most of the Inner Sphere’s military happy-people did. The Light Horse had originally been an SLDF unit, the Third Regimental Combat Team of the Star League Defense Forces. They had (sanely) decided against joining Kerensky on his death march into the unknown, instead declaring they would stay to keep ‘the light of the Star League’ alive. It was an attitude they still claimed to hold today, to the point of still wearing SLDF inspired uniforms, having a whole ritual day of mourning on the date the Exodus Fleet had jumped out of the Inner Sphere and having as their company banner an SLDF flag ringed in black that was only ever raised to half mast. And would be so until a new Star League arose.
Frankly, I saw the current ELH as little more than crack mercs with a thing for Cosplay.
But, even if their worshiping of the Star League instinctively had me rolling my eyes, there was no doubting they took their history very seriously.
All, of their history.
Back in the ‘good ole days’ of the early First Succession War, the ELH had been holding fast to their ‘neutral’ status as loyal SLDF troops, despite the Great Houses starting to throw the nukes around and despite increasing pressure from House Kurita for them to fold into the DCMS and ‘follow the rightful First Lord’. Then, news of the Kentares Massacre had broken and the ELH had decided to leave the Draconis Combine for good. Their sub-units were spread across several worlds but had managed to mostly pull out quietly when the local Combine bigshot on Sendai had caught on to their plan and made his objections known by taking the families of two battalions -the 8th Recon and 50th Heavy Cavalry- hostage. Demanding those two units surrender themselves to him, or, he would execute their families.
Said Battalions had refused.
Said Administrator had carried through with his threat. Seemingly not bothering to ask the obvious question of what now was restraining the aforementioned crack units from coming back down to make their displeasure known at his slaughtering their loved ones?
Because entirely unsurprisingly, both units did come back down and make their displeasure known at his slaughtering their loved ones. Even when a DCMS unit had arrived to investigate, when they were told about what happened - and with the DCMS still in their clinical depression state after the truth about Kentares became known - they had, for once, acted with honor and withdrawn. Leaving the Administrator to his fate as the two Battalions killed said Administrator, his bodyguards and a whole buttload of political officers who probably deeply regretted every ‘Gaijin’ sneer they had made towards the ELH over the years while they were stationed there.
In the aftermath when the two battalions had rejoined the rest of the ELH, their commanders had offered their resignations for the unauthorized attack - which were refused. Instead, they and their commands were in perpetuity made responsible for the force protection mission of the ELHs dependents and it was a responsibility they -and all who had been assigned to those units over the centuries- took very seriously.
As in written into their contacts seriously.
As in those two units always stayed behind with their dependents when the rest of the unit was off-world seriously.
And while Clanners would probably have contempt for being left in the rear area to guard civilians, the Light Horse considered it the ultimate honor to be rotated into those two units for a tour of duty, with very high expectations placed upon them.
The Dragoons being co-located and welcomed by both the troops and their dependents sent several messages to Wolfs people in a way an AFFS unit wouldn’t and credit to the Archduke for organizing it with the ELH. The fact that they were comfortable with having the Dragoons as houseguests given how ridiculously uptight they were about protecting their dependents said in no uncertain what the wider Merc community (with the ELH as their proxy) thought of the claims made against them by the Combine. And fellow Mercs taking their side like that, especially a unit as prestigious as the ELH, frankly, probably meant even more to them than Hanse and Katrina saying as much.
The ELH unit also served as a rebuke to any Home Guard troops who may have been sulking over the fact that they had been left behind while their comrades went into battle. Because the 8th Recon and 50th Heavy Cavalry lived by the same words as many of Robinsons extensive judaic community had lived by for over a millennium.
Never again.
Jamie Wolf had failed to keep his dependents, his family, alive once before - and no-one for a second doubted that he would do whatever it took to keep them alive this time. So, before they complained about sitting this out in the rear, they should talk to their joint patrol partners about what the price of failure meant. Or they could talk to Kerensky to bitch about it if they wanted – they might even survive the experience if they were lucky and she was in a really good mood…
Part of me, as we approached the gate and its guardians, wondered if the ELH presence may also have been meant to serve as a subtler rebuke to the Dragoons. Certainly not rubbing it in their faces, but perhaps at least making it clear that if you walked into a cave with a lion, expect to be ****** mauled. The Combines treatment of Mercs even on a good day tended towards the ‘disdain; you should be on your knees thanking us for the chance to serve the Dragon, unworthy Merc Scum!’ side of the scale and the ELH were hardly the first to have been turned on by the Combine. Why the ****** people wanted to work for them…
-
“Approaching Mechs, this is Colonel Elliot Jamison, Zeta Battalion, Wolf Dragoons. Please identify yourself and state your intentions” came a gruff voice over the general channel and I glanced up at the gate as Ardan slowed to a halt at the precise ‘YIELD’ line painted on the ground marking where approaching units should stop, my Mech matching his movements. The four Battlemechs at the gate were ‘looking’ in our direction now, but my advanced communications systems instead tagged a Dragoons Stalker further back inside the facility as the source of the transmission. With a thumb on a trackball built into the side of my left-hand joystick, I idly swept an indicator over to it and highlighted it.
My LIDAR systems triggered for a half second and moments later a projection of the Assault Mech materialized in front of me, to show it in much greater detail.
Again, Royal Command got the best toys.
The Stalker looked operational, but it also clearly needed servicing, with field patches all over the armor and a bit of a rushed paint job to cover it up...
To be honest though, the Freddy Krueger look just made it more terrifying - and a Stalker was plenty terrifying already, what with the sheer number of guns sticking out of it and with a wave I dismissed the hologram.
So. That was the commander of Zeta Battalion, the ‘big stick’ of the Dragoons. One of the original Clanners … and I had absolutely no idea which way he would jump come the fun that was about to happen.
Of course, that held true for a lot of the Dragoons, which made this whole ritual of challenge and approach rather important and hence Ardans desire to arrive in full Mechwarrior pomp. ‘Sacred Hospitality’ under the name of Honors of War was still a thing in this neo-feudal society - especially between Mechwarriors. Even on the Battlefield, ‘claiming privilege’ could be done to at least allow for brief ceasefires to have a civil discussion, often through third parties like ComStar. And the Clanners at least nominally held to such customs with their own bargaining practices and traditions such as Safcon and Hegira…
Well, we’d see how this went.
Then as Ardan went through the formal reply process which basically came down to ‘I have an appointment with Colonel Wolf, I believe I am expected?’ my EW board chirped and the Stalker flashed as it in turn scanned me … then a few seconds later, a deeper warbling sounded as a much more focused multi-band scan swept over me and the corner of my mouth twitched up in a smirk.
That was the Battlemech equivalent of a double take. Clearly Jamison had also just realized this wasn’t a MAD-3D.
The Dragoons had (possibly past tense depending how Misery ended up) at least some Marauders in their TO&E. And indeed, they were exclusive user and creator of the Marauder II - the jumping assault mechs big brother of my design. But I was pretty confident they had never seen anything like this, well, except perhaps back in the Clan Homeworlds.
But if he was off balance from my one-of-a-kind but definitely not a Frakenmech, he gave no hints in his voice as he now answered Ardan.
“We have been expecting you Colonel Sortek” the Zeta commander replied smoothly with exact formality. “Pass friends and enter.” And with that the lance of Battlemechs at the gate backed up a little as the anti-vehicle barriers sunk into the ground, the two of us walking through the entrance as each guard Mech raising their right arm in a gesture universally recognized as a ‘Mech Salute’ that Ardan returned smoothly as we stepped past, the unit closing ranks behind us once again. Ahead, Jamison’s Mech ‘lifted’ slightly as he took it out of parking mode and the armless monster with an absurd amount of guns started stomping off at a sedate thirty KPH, the two of us falling into line behind him.
I didn’t mind the slow pace through; it gave me a good look around at the base as we carefully walked down the road, the lights all green for us with railway like boom arms holding traffic back on crossroads. The first blocks nearest the gate seemed to be administration offices, presumably filled with locals doing all the support work the Dragoons needed done as they settled in. And probably a lot of the Dragoons dependents who in merc units tended to handle the back-office stuff.
Because even in the 31st century, the paperwork must flow.
Beyond the office blocks were clearly residential areas and apartments - although this main road was carefully raised now to minimize danger to civilians, giving a good view of what amounted almost to a miniature city for the personnel and their families. Some of whom I’m sure would be rejoicing in the return of their loved ones.
Others…well, I saw what seemed to be a large military hospital in the distance and it looked like it was pretty damn active.
No surprise there.
The Dragoons had taken losses that, while not enough to destroy them, were certainly the worst they had taken since the ‘fun’ in Antons rebellion, according to the summary Ardan had received on the way in from DMR and DMI. Twenty percent of their Mechwarriors and sixty percent of the Aerospace pilots were listed as KIA with another thirty to forty percent of their Mechwarriors WIA to a non-mission capable level. Add to that roughly 50% equipment losses and the Dragoons were in a world of hurt.
In normal times, they would have reserve stockpiles to restore some of that, but the long ‘company store’ play the Combine had run had quite ruthlessly drawn down those stockpiles down and there were no more Clan resupply runs for them either. They had a decent amount of salvage of course, both their own and DCMS gear ... but so brutal had the battle on Misery been that DMIs reports suggested said salvage was less about rebuilding Mechs and more about yanking useful components out of scrap either for repair work on other Mechs, or, putting up for sale to get some quick cash. Because it went without saying that finances wise no-one was paying the bills now.
House Davion was letting them crash here with free housing, food and support of course, but surely, they wanted to get a new contract hammered out soonest? Thus, I was sure they would be very happy that Hanse Davion’s personal troubleshooter had come all the way out here to treat with them so quickly.
In short, the Dragoons were at their weakest since they had entered the Inner Sphere.
And probably at their maddest too - or at least tied with Anton-time.
Still there was some good news. Firstly, their kill ratio had been insane; the DCMS were estimated to have suffered total non-recoverable equipment losses of about five and a half to six Mech regiments - a staggering amount of war material to lose in a single pre-Helm 3rd Succession War engagement. I had no idea where Takashi had even gotten the Mechs to build the Ryuken units in the first place; most fanon suggested either out of his ass (aka ‘FASA cannot into math when inconvenient’) or that he had blocked replacement shipments to the entire DCMS and organized key transfers of personnel with family owned mechs. In either case, between the Ryuken and Genyosha, the strategic reserves of the DCMS had to be thin to none by now; not a good place to be, considering what was coming.
No strike that, a very good place for them to be considering what was coming!
Just as brutal, close to 90% of the DCMS Mechwarriors who had lost their ride had also lost their lives. Now, if that was because they had refused to eject, ‘refused to eject’, ejected into the sub-zero ‘fun’ of Misery and died of exposure, or had slit their stomachs open because of their perceived failure … who knew?
In all honesty (and this fact distantly worried me) I found it hard to care.
The DCMS had offered no quarter after moving against the Dragoons so surely expected to receive none in return. The Dictum Honorarium, the code by which all Combine citizens and soldiers (theoretically) operated, was pretty clear in the best traditions of World War Two Japan, that to fall into enemy hands was the ultimate disgrace and a fate worse than death. It also stated that those who refused to serve the Dragon were enemies of the Dragon. And that enemies of the Dragon needed to be destroyed.
And it seemed the Dragoons had seemingly been perfectly happy to oblige them on those terms of engagement.
Presently, we passed past a somewhat more substantial wall and security gate that opened and closed behind us as we left the outer ring of the base and moved into the ‘business end’; a massive sprawling tarmac of reinforced ferrocrete with hangers, warehouses, workshops and military facilities of every kind as far as the eye could see. Vehicles were driving everywhere, but smartly stayed the hell out of our way.
Two Assaults and a Heavy had a way of making 31st century Mac Trucks rethink the food chain and their place in it.
Unsurprisingly as a nodal point of key strategic logistical support for the entire Draconis March this base was huge, sprawling over three hundred square kilometers if you included the Robinson Standard BattleWorks anex, whose bread and butter was providing major repair and support services to AFFS units cycling in and out. In the distance off to my left closer to the ocean were the ovoids of countless dropships, mostly in the black and red trim of Wolf’s Dragoons. Between them and us were vast fields of Battlemech repair bays; row after row inside hangers filled with sorry looking Dragoon and ex-DCMS units, with teams from RSB alongside the Dragoons either stripping down damaged units for repair or ripping apart units for any useful scrap and salvage in showers of sparks from heavy tools.
And there seemed sadly to be far more of the later going on than the former.
To my right was another partition of the base, with a couple of AFFS Enforcers on guard at the gate into that section. That was, according to my floating TACMAP the main supply stockpile where truly massive amounts of supplies arrived from the Crucis March - and now quietly from as far as Coventry - to be distributed across the Draconis March. Security looked tight too, but that made sense as no-one wanted some damn Ninjas to sneak in and blow up a few megatons of high explosives.
Or perhaps it was because of the shipment Hanse Davions instructions to Ardan and I indicated should have arrived several weeks ago.
Not for the first time as I reflected on Hanse Davions orders, I wondered if genius and insanity were but two sides of the same coin. ‘Crazy as a Fox!’ was certainly put into context when it came to Hanse Davion. The man must at times give poor old Yvonne Davion heart attacks…
In any event, after ten minutes of walking, we reached the center of ‘Dragoon town’, a headquarters building with attached Mech and vehicle bays and a Lance of battered Mechs proudly standing at the four corners on watch. We headed straight in to the Mech Hanger where a bit over half a dozen Mechs were already docked - senior officers mounts? Certainly, the somewhat banged up looking blue Archer I recognized as Jamie Wolf's mount…and the jet-black Warhammer with the Clan Widowmaker symbol was of course You Know Who’s...
Each of us were guided into a gantry by ground staff and I curved off to my assigned bay carefully. The gantry wasn’t a full Mech bay - more of a slot on the wall with a light cage to allow easy access on and off Mechs, so it was no trouble to reverse into place without scratching anything (totally still felt protective of my shiny grey paint) and, once there, quickly run through the shutdown checklist. Finally, I activated the security lockouts before unstrapping myself, setting the neurohelmet to the side and getting up, brushing down my dress shirt.
Once again, I wasn’t wearing the normal shirts, shorts and cooling vest of a field Mechwarrior - said vest was hanging off to the side however -just in case- but I was wearing the AFFS dress uniform of one. As I had yet to be commissioned as an officer in the AFFS my uniform jacket was rather plain. No rank insignia or unit markings; just the Federated Suns flag on my right shoulder and nameplate on my chest for decorations. And no spurs which I had not yet earned.
A completely plain uniform stripped of all rank and insignia had its own air of mystery that perhaps suited me better than the uniform of an AFFS cadet. Which would raise all manner of questions I could do without. But at least I had a pretty solid claim to the right to wear an AFFS uniform this time, which made me feel much less uncomfortable than I had on Helm.
Working out of my seat I picked up said uniform jacket from where it was hanging behind my seat (yes, the little space where the Rumble Seat could be unfolded could be used to hang spare clothes; I loved this thing) and turned to the hatch, hitting the release which caused it to pop out and slide back. A Dragoon tech was waiting outside and I took her accepted hand as she helped me up and out. I thanked her and hit the hatch lock - double checking it locked with the loud Beep-Beep! before moving to the drop lift. The now familiar smell of coolant and machine tools came to me as I dropped down to the floor, once unpleasant yet now oddly comfortable in that way you got used to such things. Pulling on my jacket as I stepped out of the lift, I found Ardan stepping out from the feet of his monstrous Victor and he wordlessly handed me his secure attaché case to hold while he slipped into his own dress jacket.
I couldn’t help but glance at the golden disk on his jackets right breast, distinctive opposite the numerous campaign tabs and other awards as he fussed his uniform into place. The highest award a soldier in the AFFS could receive, the Medal Excalibur said that if you knew nothing about this man, it was sufficient to know he was considered a hero by the Federated Suns.
And coming from a highly militaristic culture where dying in glorious battle was ‘Tuesday’, that really said something. As did the fact that the medal had been earned well before he had saved Hanse from the whole imposter plot.
So yes, Ardan was a hero and don’t you forget it. But a humble one; incredibly competent but with a strong moral compass. In the original timeline he had been let in on Justin Alards true deep cover mission only because he had more or less stormed into Hanse office and let him have both barrels over the railroading bullshit trial the man was being put through, being perfectly willing to resign and publicly denounce it do if he needed to do it.
It took a lot of balls to threaten that to The Foxes face. As well as showing exactly why Hanse kept him so close to hand as he plotted and schemed; the ‘speed break on the ship of state’ if he started to cross certain lines.
As one of those lines had quite possibly been executing me outright to maintain OPSEC for the Federated Suns HPG research program and instead giving me a new life … well I think EVERYONE was more than happy with the results of that choice.
His jacket in place, Sortek and I were quickly escorted by a waiting Dragoon tech to the main lift. At a bit of a jog, Colonel Jamison moved to join us, having parked his own monster next to Wolf’s. He was a surprisingly big man (as in fit big) - who looked strikingly like Tom Selleck - but I held that thought back as he extended his hand to Ardan with a smile on his face.
“Colonel, it is a pleasure to finally meet you” he greeted Ardan, the two shaking hands firmly.
“Likewise, Colonel” Ardan nodded, his expression sincere before turning to gesture to me. “May I present John Smith, my aide-de-camp?”
“Colonel” I nodded and extended my hand after shifting Ardans annoyingly heavy secure case to my left, the Dragoon officer taking it and shaking it firmly, but with no contest of strength or anything silly like that (which was good as I’m sure he could have crushed my bones quite casually) as he briefly took in my plain uniform.
“Mister Smith. That is a very interesting Battlemech you have” he said as he released my hand, glancing back behind me at it for a moment, his eyes clearly intent on it as he picked it over. “Looks like a modified Two-Romeo with a large pulse laser and … two mediums under the chin?”
“Well spotted” I freely confirmed the loadout of my Mech - after all, it wasn’t as if Wolfnet wouldn’t be able to confirm that easily enough and I was sure while we were upstairs, some of their people would be crawling over the outside of my Mech taking pictures.
Of course, very few people should know off the cuff what a large-pulse laser looked like and I wondered if that was an unintentional slip from the Clanner … or a fakeout attempt to test me?
After all, Katrina's casual ‘exposing’ of Snord being on Jamies orders should have Wolf at least wondering what else we might know...if he’s not being more of an idiot than normal anyway.
“I take it this was a Helm mech?” he continued, his tone suggesting it wasn’t a question as he continued without waiting for an answer. “A very impressive looking retrofit; I am presuming an NAIS job?”
“Have you transferred from Zeta to Wolfnet?” I asked, keeping my tone light and amused as the elevator arrived with a ‘ding!’.
“Just curious” Jamison laughed gruffly as the doors opened and he waved us in - then paused and stepped backwards as a Mechwarrior carrying a cooling vest in one hand and a neurohelmet in the other strode out of said lift.
…Holy. Shit.
That was about all I could think. After all, it wasn’t everyday a Battletech legend casually walked out of an elevator in front of you.
“Ah, Major” Jamison greeted the newcomer. “Good timing - before you head out I’d like to introduce you to our representatives from the Federated Suns” he gestured towards us.
The woman turned to us and - damn. I mean, just … damn.
In a Mechwarriors sports bra (with Clan Widowmakers distinctive spider sewn into it), shorts and boots with a holster supporting a wicked looking knife on her shin and a heavy slugthrower pistol on her hip … there was no ****** way I would ever have guessed, for so much as a second, that this woman was nearing sixty years old. Seriously. A very fit and ridiculously deadly mid thirties, tops.
Clan medscience was seriously bullshit.
Especially with her abs looking like you could grate cheese on them, her limbs looking like they used myomer rather than muscles and her blazing orange hair making her seem more energetic than a runaway fusion reactor-
Okay. I’ll admit it, much like in Battletech the game, Natasha Kerensky the real was just …
Wow.
A genetically engineered killing machine trashborn Clanner of course. But, still … wow.
You know, if her Granddaughter looks like this and Phelan -as we all suspected- was thinking with his dick, his defection suddenly starts to makes more sense...
“Colonel Sortek” Natasha Kerensky greeted him as she stepped forward, casually dropping her neurohelmet to the ground to offer him her hand which Ardan took and shook briskly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, at last”.
“The pleasure is mine Major” Ardan smiled as he released her hand. “Prince Hanse sends his personal regards - and reminds you that you still owe him two bottles of Thirty Oh Five Glengarry reserve.”
Kerensky smirked an oh-so cocky way - a grin I’m sure many people in the past had tried to wipe off her face.
I doubted many who tried had lived.
Her MIIO file strongly suggested that ‘Natasha Kerensky’ might damn well be a default ‘cause of death’ on death certificates across the Inner Sphere given her estimated kill count.
“Unless I’m mistaken Colonel” she said in a tone that made it clear she knew she was not, “Ian never found out where those two bottles on Hanse’s desk vanished that night. Those bottles filled with that magnificent, smooth, Scotch … presumably. But feel free to tell him that I actually picked up an Oh-Five … somewhere … in my travels. And I’ll crack it open and raise a toast in his name with the Widows when he ties the knot with that cutie Steiner he’s marrying”.
“I’ll be sure to pass that on” Ardan said with dry amusement before stepping to the side. “But I don’t want to keep you and Colonel Wolf is expecting us.”
“Given that you ran out here all the way from New Avalon I’m sure he can wait a few minutes more” Kerensky snorted dismissively at that as she turned to face me and at a glance took in my odd uniform. “And who exactly are you then?”
Annnndd there goes the heart hammering in the chest. Right on schedule. Trying very hard not to either think about what she had done, purely on reflex, to Fadre Singh...or squee at a high frequency over the fact that Natasha Kerensky was paying attention to me.
So don’t ****** give her an excuse to pull her gun John?
“Smith. John Smith” I offered her a polite nod and extended my hand. “Big fan of your work”.
“Well, always happy to meet a fan” she smirked. “Any favorite hits?”
You killing Burke Crason and nailing Vlad Ward in the back to score four kills in your little Trial of Position to re-test when you rejoined the Clans was pretty awesome...
“Well … it’s pretty hard to go past your avenging Joshua Wolf and the Dragoon dependents” I said - and seeing the ancient embers of pain and anger that flickered in her eyes I quickly moved onwards from the battle she had arguably made her name, founding the Black WIdows and turning into the murder machine we all knew and loved. “But, I have to say that from what I read, you’ve reached a new level of excellence as a Champion of Chaos and Master of Disaster on Misery?”
“What can I say? I’m a Gal who likes her work” she shrugged impishly but then seemed to notice the time on her watch. “But we’ll have to table comparative destruction; my slot at the firing range won’t be held all day and I have a high score to set” she said as she reached down and picked up her helmet - oh GOWD don’t look at her as she bends over like that, she might stab you in the eye! “Ciao!” she said and with that strode out whistling in an off-key sort of way … wait, was that ‘You ain’t nothing but a Hound Dog?’
Must have been hanging out with Rhonda Snord.
-
I turned back to Zeta’s commander as her last words came to me.
“The Major won’t be joining us in the staff meeting?” I asked Jamison curiously as he hit the lift call button again, dragging with almost physical effort my gaze away from the way her short-shorts moved...
“Not bloody likely - with a slot on the gunnery range open now that her Mech has been pieced back together” he explained, his eyes rolling but his tone tolerantly amused. “Whenever we hit a base with a firing range that scores individual performances, she always heads out to set a new high score. With a standing offer of a bottle of booze to any Dragoon who manages to beat it.”
“Has anyone managed that?” I asked in curiosity at that as the lift dinged and we stepped inside.
I didn’t try to seriously calculate my odds of beating her score, three billion to one perhaps? If I had the wind at my back?
“Jamie keeps getting close - honestly I am sure he could beat it but lets her have it to encourage the rest of the Dragoons” the Colonel smiled briefly as he hit the button for the top floor and we started ascending. “Only one person ever actually beat it back when we were in Steiner space; Lieutenant Char Aznable. One of my Zetas. Not sure it was worth it though, Kerensky was sulking for a month after that - even though she made it a point to go out and beat his score by twenty percent, half hungover, the day after.”
Oh yeah, forgot that. The Dragoons have their own expy Gundam pilot don’t they? Wonder if his neurohelmet is as crazy looking...
“Well it could be amusing to watch her reaction if he beats it again” I thought aloud. After all, so long as it wasn’t directed at me, a sulking Natasha Kerensky could be hilarious...
“Probably not going to happen for a while, Char got knocked about on Misery and is going to be out for a least a month” Jamison said, his expression distant. “Lost eight good men on that final push into Sabaku, but we bashed open the hole for Alpha and Gamma and they poured through, ended the battle in an hour that could have taken days."
The silence in the lift was painful.
“I’m sorry for your losses” I said, feeling horribly awkward in that moment with nothing to say as, honestly, what could a man like me who had never seen combat say to that without sounding entirely artificial and pro-forma? “I heard Zeta suffered the highest casualties of any Dragoon unit?"
“And inflicted by far the most - a near five to one ratio while being outnumbered a minimum of two to one at all times” he confirmed with a tone I could best describe as … stoic, tinged with pride. “I lost ten pilots and all but six of the survivors wounded to some degree” he said almost matter of factly and I blinked, feeling slightly light headed and alarmed. Ten dead was near a third of their strength gone from a thirty-six strong nominal force. And almost all the rest wounded?! Over eighty percent casualties!?
****** hell. Was it that bad in the original timeline for Zeta?
“Most of the wounded were just knocked about as their Mechs got bashed around, compounded with heat stress from pushing them past their limits” he waved away the look on my face. “Some are still in bad shape, but the rest will be up and operational within a month at most and you do not join Zeta because it is safe.” The man shrugged at that, seemingly at peace with the losses. “We will rebuild. Already have every damn kid in the training companies pestering me for transfers to the open slots, no matter how many times I tell them we do not have enough Mechs” he rolled his eyes as the lift slowed to a halt. “Anyway, here we are."
The doors opened on a lobby with the usual lifts, bathrooms and glass doors at either end into the rest of the floor … and a half dozen surly looking infantry in full field kit hefting a mixture of SMGs and shotguns that made my hands itch for my sidearm, which I had quite deliberately left inside my Mech. Jamison however led us past them without incident, returning their crisp salutes as he moved into a corridor that ran through bullpens filled with Dragoon officers - mostly walking wounded I tried not to stare at - my mind trying to reconcile the Colonels casual attitude towards his units losses.
Rule number one of being an officer I recalled Captain Rogers lectures vividly. You will, at some point, need to ruthlessly spend the lives people you may well love like your own sons and daughters. You will do so without hesitation, without mercy. Rule number two of being an officer; no-one can change rule number one.
Or, perhaps it was just a Clan ‘glorious death in battle equals good’ thing. Who the ****** knows...
Quickly enough we arrived quickly at a large wooden door guarded by yet more infantry in combat gear waiting and watching us with that same wariness I had seen in the bodyguards around Hanse and Katrina. These two didn’t salute but one of the two reached back and knocked (read; banged) twice on the door before pushing it open and holding it for us as we moved past and inside, closing it behind.
The room beyond was something akin to a board room with the ceiling being a slanted glass roof letting in the sunlight indirectly that made it near impossible to spy on events inside while letting ample natural light in. But of rather more immediate interest were the men and women clustered at the head of the table, who turned towards us as we entered.
“Colonel Ardan Sortek of the Davion Brigade of Guards and Mister John Smith, his aide-de-camp” Jamison announced us before stepping to the side and making way for Ardan to approach the group.
I ran my eyes over the group, tagging every single one of them from the DMI files Ardan had given me to study on the flight in to Robinson. They were all Clanners; some of whom had been with the original Dragoon group and others who had come with one of the resupply runs and been promoted to replace dead or retired officers. The Regimental Colonels of course; four plus Major Kelly Yukinov who was the de-facto Colonel in charge of Alpha Regiment when Jamie was busy leading the unit as a whole. Also present was a man I recognized as Stanford Blake, head of Wolfnet. The Dragoons private little spy network that they had pulled out of their asses a couple of years after arriving in the Inner Sphere… and standing proudly next to him was Marco Ramius.
Okay, not Marco Ramius, but I swear to God Jamie Wolf really was the mirror image of Sean Connery as a Soviet Submarine Captain who wanted to defect to Freedomland. If a tad younger looking.
Oh ****** hell - now I had The Hunt for Red October's opening theme ear-worming its way into my head...
Presently, Ardan moved forward towards Jamie, the Colonel welcoming Ardan warmly as they shook hands and introductions started between the officers as I made myself small in the background, Jamison sliding past behind me, going the long way to join his colleagues.
“Colonel Wolf” he introduced me, “My aide John Smith."
“Mister Smith” Jamie greeted me cordially - and damnit FASA, he even sounded like Sean Connery! Or had Catalyst done that picture? Damnit, can’t remember...
I took his offered hand though, shaking it firmly as he glanced at my uniform briefly, his face giving absolutely nothing away.
“That was a very interesting Battlemech you arrived in” he noted as he released my hand.
“It was a gift from a friend” I smiled faintly, earning a raised eyebrow at the non-answer.
And probably at my odd uniform.
Or what I was really doing here.
Probably figures me as a spook given that the AFFS doesn’t have political officers and Ardan is BFFs with Hanse Davion. Close enough I suppose although I still don’t know why I’m here either...
“Please” he finally gestured us to the side of the table bare of all but two chairs, Jamie and his Regimental officers sitting opposite us. Pretty much all the senior players in the Dragoons bar Kerensky and the Snords who I suppose wouldn’t be here for what everyone thought were contract negotiations with the Dragoons. And Natasha because … well, honestly, I didn’t care why Natasha really wasn’t here, just that she wasn’t!
Well, here we go I thought as I handed over Ardans attaché case to him.
“Colonel Sortek, before we begin our discussions, I would like to extend to you and your Prince the gratitude of all the Dragoons for your warnings” Jamie started once everyone was settled. “My people” and he glanced at Blake who nodded very slightly, “are of the opinion that such superb intelligence could only have come from a very high-level source that you risked exposing by passing on such information. A great many of our people are alive today because of that warning and we will not forget it.”
“Colonel Wolf. I will be sure to pass on your thanks to Prince Davion. However, honesty compels me to point out our reasons for warning you were not entirely altruistic; depriving the Combine of a Mercenary unit of the Dragoons skill and power was certainly one of the factors influencing our decision making” Ardan said with almost brutal honesty.
Must be a hell of a change from the words within words within words of dealing with Combine officials to have Ardan just outright come out and admit it I thought, but none of the Dragoons seemed at all bothered or put off by his directness.
“Accordingly,” Ardan continued, “irrespective of if we come to terms it is my Princes wish that you not consider that you owe any debts or favors to him. Frankly, the sheer damage you have directed inflicted to the DCMS - and opening you left for it to be compounded- has, if anything, made him feel greatly indebted to the Dragoons."
“While I in turn would note that the Combine were going to move against us and make themselves our enemies, irrespective of if the Prince decided to reach out and warn us” Jamie noted in turn, his face turning dark - although I could tell it wasn’t directed at Ardan. “And if he had not reached out, if he had - understandably- been unwilling to risk a clearly valuable source for the sake of a Mercenary unit in service to his greatest enemy, letting Kurita pull off his plans with full surprise? A great many -or perhaps even all - of our dependents and support staff could have been killed or held against us. It could have been far worse than Anton” he said, his eyes closing for a second as his subordinates murmured in agreement with their own expressions turning grim before Jamie opened his eyes, his face once again calm.
“Still, we could spend all day trying to insist that one of us owed the other more so, for now at least, I think it would be more productive to conclude we are both deeply grateful for the others efforts?” Jamie suggested, lifting his hands in a sort of shrug and offering a wry but real smile.
“Well said” Ardan agreed and got to work opening his attaché case. “First, Archduke Sandoval has formally offered indefinite shelter and support for your dependents here on Robinson, at his cost, until any new contract is signed between the Dragoons and a new employer. I also must express that both the First Prince Hanse Davion and Archon Katrina Steiner have authorized me to negotiate on their behalf for the employment of Wolf’s Dragoons in a joint, long term contract to both the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth."
That revelation got a number of raised eyebrows and slight shifting from the crowd of people. Jamie however didn’t even flinch at what must have been an unprecedented - certainly in the time of the Succession Wars - offer of two House Lords putting a proposal forward for the Dragoons services.
“I will, of course, personally extend my thanks to the Archduke later” Jamie observed and Ardan nodded to that. “However” he continued, “before negotiations truly begin between the Dragoons, Commonwealth and Suns; I must note a change in our standard terms. Contrary to the undertakings our agents on Galatea have been suggesting over the last year, the Dragoons will not be seeking a contracted guarantee against facing our previous employer” Jamie started, his tone matter-of-fact but his eyes icy. “In actuality, we will require a front line combat contract against them.”
There was a clear rumble of support from around the table at that, with dark, eager looks on faces.
Okay then. Clearly, ripping apart the Ryuken, slaughtering the Sword of Light and … um … gutting? the Galedon Regulars on Misery wasn’t enough DCMS blood for them.
I managed not to roll my eyes at the Dragoons desire to sign a suicide pact with their latest employer.
“You are requiring a front-line posting against the Draconis Combine?” Ardan asked. His tone was businesslike, not judging one way or the other but simply seeking clarification of the request and he got a curt nod in return.
“Correct” Jamie said simply. “In addition, … Colonel, I would hazard that after our business here is concluded, you will be proceeding to Terra for the wedding of Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner?
“I will be” Ardan confirmed after a moment's thought. “Indirectly if we finish quickly enough, directly if these negotiations draw out somewhat” and Jamie nodded once again.
“Then I would also request if I may accompany you. I require a final conversation with the Coordinator and have a personal delivery to make before our previous business is concluded” he stated, and that matter of fact tone could not come close to hiding the flash in his eyes. “You have my word I will not start any violence with Lord Kurita or any of his party” he added as Ardan’s gaze narrowed, as if predicting the next question, holding up a hand in a placating gesture. “I simply need to return something to him, personally.”
Well, I suppose that means that Minobu Tetsuhara went out the same way I thought silently as Ardan and Jamie exchanged stares, neither willing to blink as they took the measure of each other and I let my attention drift in thought.
Tetsuhara had been one of those rare unicorns; a highly competent DCMS officer who not only believed the hype the DC sprouted about itself to the rest of the Inner Sphere, but lived by it and refused to compromise. He had unknowingly spared the life of Jamie Wolf while the Dragoons were in service to Steiner, because his Mech had been overheated and it would have been dishonorable to essentially shoot him in the back.
That decision had, of course, gotten him dispossessed by the DCMS in punishment. Because the DCMS were dicks about punishing people like that whenever anyone actually tried to inconveniently live up to their PR.
The Dragoons had come to appreciate him as an ally though, even giving him the moniker ‘Major Iron Man’ from them (although he was about as far as it was possible to get from any iteration of Tony Stark, let alone Robert Downey Junior), becoming key in keeping the Dragoons relationship with the Combine stable during his tenure as their liaison officer.
But far more important than all that; he had become a close friend to Jamie Wolf.
Things had started to go south when he was promoted into the position of the Commander of the Ryuken, leaving Jerry Akuma (who was all about the whole ‘entrap and/or destroy the Dragoons’ thing and personally loathed Tetsuhara) to replace him as their liaison officer. The man had wasted little time in using his position to start ****** things up in a methodical, systematic way with maximum company store efforts and steadily ramping up the anti-Dragoon propaganda inside the Combine even as the ISF worked to frame them for war crimes against the Combine.
Worse for Jamie Wolf and his friend, the man took his oaths so seriously that despite loathing himself for doing it, he had led the fight against the Dragoons to the best of his abilities once things turned hostile, seeing the orders to destroy the Dragoons as direct orders from the Coordinator himself.
Despite being betrayed by Samsonov he had fought as hard as he could but in the original timeline (and it seemed this one) Tetsuhara had been captured at the end of hostilities and insisted on seppuku to atone for his disgrace, no matter how frantically Jamie had tried to talk him out of it and prove none of the events was his fault and no one in the Dragoons doubted he had fought both well and with honor.
In Tetsuharas world however, there was no grey. His Lord Kurita had demanded success and he had instead delivered failure. His Warlord had betrayed him, sure, but as far as the Combine Officer was concerned, the orders to destroy the Dragoons had come from the Dragon. And indeed, it was his decision all those years ago to spare Jamie Wolf that had inevitably led to this horrible day.
Ergo, he had failed.
The Dragon, like all good Bond villains, did not tolerate failure.
Ergo, Seppuku was the only way to balance his karma and Jamie had stood as his second to shoot him as he finished slicing himself open.
For Tetsuhara; the noble act of a close friend, standing by him to the end.
For Jamie; pure bloody murder of a good friend and better man, forced by Takashi Kurita.
Jamie had then proceeded to Terra to ‘deliver’ Tetsuhara's ancestral swords to the Coordinator, charging him with returning them to the man's widow and family and explaining why her husband had slit himself open. Then, after throwing the swords at his feet, Jamie had taken the opportunity to scorn Takashi in front of the entire assembled senior nobility of the Inner Sphere’s Great Houses. Short of pulling down his pants and dickslapping him, there wasn’t terribly much more that could have been to encourage the DCMS to come after the Dragoons with everything they could scrape together in a howling rage.
Given his desire to head to Terra to ‘deliver’ something to Takashi, it was a foregone conclusion events had played out much the same way this time. And he seemed determined to play out future events in the same way.
-
“From the reports I’ve read...” Sortek continued after a few seconds of exchanging stares with Jamie led nowhere, instead glancing down as he leafed through his papers from DMR; “the Dragoons Mech regiments are, as a whole sitting at greater than fifty percent non-recoverable material losses and thirty percent damaged? With twenty percent personnel losses and another thirty or forty percent currently non-mission capable. Would this be an accurate assessment?”
“Approximately, yes” Jamie agreed with a stoic nod as if Ardan hadn’t just pointed out he had gone from having five crack regiments at his beck and call a few months ago to having barely one right now. “If we can quickly come to contract terms for some other parts as well as helping to expedite a shipment ordered from Blackwell, I am confident we will be able to put two and a half regiments of Battlemechs in the field within two months, with another regiment of dispossessed Mechwarriors combat ready. Plus our training command, although we intend to keep them here with our vehicle support and the remains of Zeta to defend our dependents. No disrespect intended to the AFFS or, of course, the Light Horse.”
“None taken on our side and I’m sure the ELH -perhaps more than anyone- will understand” Ardan agreed before leaning forward slightly. “However as for your posting requests … may I put this directly Colonel?” Sortek asked.
“Of course” Jamie agreed and Ardan leaned back a little, regarding Jamie with an unreadable expression on his face.
“How far are you willing - no, excuse me. How far are you going to take this vendetta?”
Well that’s direct...
Ardan's blunt question seemed to wash through the room like a cold wind and several of the Dragoon officers actually looked a trite taken aback by it.
Although I doubted it would be near enough to get them to start thinking about the likely long term consequences of declaring Jihad against the Draconis Combine with a mere two and a half Regiments of Mechs.
Clanners just didn’t do long term consequences.
No, long term ‘Consequences’ did Clanners!
I mentally high fived Shoulder Consequences at the Smirnoff.
Jaime though, to his credit only smiled faintly in a very Sean Connery Bond way, seemingly utterly unphased by the bluntness.
“I would have thought that Prince Davion and Archon Steiner would have been pleased having a unit so determined to take the fight to their mortal enemy working for them?” Jamie sidestepped the question entirely and I almost felt the frown that came onto Ardan’s face in response to the evasion.
Yeah, no. Ardan wasn’t going to have any of that. The Dragoons thinking they had a right to a private war against the Combine? One that could easily draw reprisals on worlds they were stationed on?
House Davion pushed back against that kind of bullshit from the Sandovals, let alone a Merc unit. In our preliminary groundwork for this meeting Ardan had been highly unimpressed with the idea that the Jamie Wolf would suicide pact his people rather than be their commander and do his damn job...
“If said unit is working from a coordinated and agreed upon strategic plan with their employer? Of course” Ardan replied easily. “If however said unit simply wants to wage a private self-destructive war against an entire Successor State without any concern for the wider strategic implications or possible second order consequences to the nation hosting them? I can assure you neither the First Prince or Archon would accept such a unit as that into their employment.”
Wow. Any more direct Ardan and you’ll be doing the ‘tie to chair osmosis’ thing I thought.
His statement had the desired effect across the room though. I was sure they had expected Ardan was coming here to roll out the Royal Carpet for them, to see to their repair needs with maximum priority with an eye to getting the Dragoons up and ready for round two as fast as possible. Because what House Lord wouldn’t love to throw the Dragoons at their mortal enemy?
There was a palpable irony that Wolf had orders for the Dragoons to save the Inner Sphere … and now it was up to the Inner Sphere to save the Dragoons.
Wolf however seemed surprisingly unphased by Ardan's rebuttal even if his officers were looking increasingly off balance - perhaps even worried about the way this contract negotiation (which I’m sure they thought was going to be mostly pro-forma) was going. But then, I suppose if Wolf could sit through hours of Grieg Samsonov ranting at him and Jerry Akuma lying to his face time after time, this was probably nothing terribly impressive by his standards and that far more would be needed to break his composure.
Remaining calm, he leaned forward after a few seconds to mirror Ardans posture, his gaze not shifting one micron.
"It sounds to me Colonel, If you’ll forgive my directness, almost like you are expecting that the Dragoons will ignore their orders?”
For the record, I tried.
I really tried, given how incredibly serious this was.
But … I just couldn't help it.
The strangled snicker/snort made its way out of my nose, a noise that sounded far, far too loud in the otherwise silent room before I managed to cut it off with a mangled sort of throat clearing and tried to make my face as impassive as it had been.
It didn’t stop the entire room turning to look at me. Um, whoops.
"Something you wish to add to our discussion, Mister Smith?" Jamie asked me with a familiar tone and raised eyebrow that instantly took me back to Sakhara. One that suggested strongly the only acceptable answer was ‘SIR NO SIR!’
Mostly though I was too busy trying not to react to the Hunt for Red October reference - delivered by a Marco Ramius look alike.
Probably BROBs fault - whichever one of the bastards sent me to this universe. BUT, unplanned or not it was probably just about the best opening I’d get.
So I met the look of Jamie Wolf for a moment before shifting my gaze to look at Ardan, an unasked question on my face. And after a moment of consideration, the AFFS Officer casually flipped his folder shut and clasped his hands together on the table on top of it as if waiting for me to apologize or something like that.
In truth however, that was the agreed 'do it' signal.
“Colonel Wolf” I said calmly, choosing my words very carefully from a whole list of possible choices and plans I had ran over and over for a very long time. “Would you agree then, that it is the duty of a soldier to obey all orders from their superior officers? Presuming, of course, they are what the soldier recognizes as lawful orders?”
“Of course” he agreed. Immediately and without any hesitation. As a good soldier should. Not seeing the trap he had just fallen into even if he probably sensed there was one somewhere.
I mean, how could he?
Some days it’s fun being a walking, talking outside context problem…
“So” I continued, leaning back in my chair and gathering my hands together as I regarded him with my best ‘polite curiosity’ expression; “may I thus conclude that you believe your final mission orders from Khan Kerlin Ward were not lawful orders?”
Silence. Or, as HALO would put it, Silentium. An absolute, perfect, primordial silence the filled the room like a living, breathing thing...
Takashi Kurita had noted in Wolves on the Border that Jamie Wolf wore such a perfect mask that it was all but impossible to see real man behind it. Framed in chi bullshit of course, but fundamentally the Coordinator had been annoyed that unlike most people, he simply couldn’t get any read on Jamie in their few encounters, making it impossible for him to anticipate which way Wolf would jump.
That made me regret that I didn’t have a camera to capture the look of numb dumbfounded shock on his face as said iron control shattered, his gaze flickering back and forth between Ardan and I in a way that said he was lost for what to say or do as the rug was entirely brutally ripped out from under his feet.
The eerie silence lasted for about ten seconds when finally Colonel Jamison leaned forward. The leather creaking of his chair was almost painfully loud in the dead silence and drew Wolfs attention with almost undue haste to his subordinate. A quick exchange of looks between them that seemed almost telepathic and the Zeta Battalion commander turned to me, clearing his throat as Jamie seemed almost to withdraw into himself, his gaze directed at nothing.
I couldn’t bring myself to feel terribly much pity for him being called out on not doing his ****** job...
“Could you please elaborate, Mister Smith?” Jamison’s words were ever so carefully chosen, but the white knuckles on his fists and rigid shoulders betrayed the tension roaring through him.
I suspected that Jamison - and the rest of the Dragoons in the room for that matter - had some faint hope that this was just a fishing trip. That the people Ardan and I represented had some information, many suspicions and a whole lot of missing context and had come looking for more data. And perhaps, just perhaps, if they held their nerve they might just be able to limit the fallout from this utterly unexpected, catastrophic and world changing event?
If so, he was about to be sorely disappointed.
“Of course” I nodded politely as if we were talking about who we liked in this year’s Solaris circuit now that Allard had left for Sian after killing Norton. “During the Dragoon's final resupply run Colonel Wolf and Star Colonel Kerensky - the Senior Bloodnamed Trueborn of record in the Dragoons - were given direct, explicit and very clear orders from your Khan to begin preparing the Inner Sphere to repel an increasingly probable Crusader Clan Invasion” I explained in a matter-of-fact tone, perhaps enjoying the numb looks on the faces opposite me a little too much as I talked of things I couldn’t possibly know as casually as if we were negotiating Hydrogen fuel shipment fees. “Following receipt of those new orders and after purging your Jumpship navdata to the Kerensky Cluster to ensure you had to follow them” I continued, “Colonel Wolf led you into employment with House Steiner. The greatest industrial power in human space. And rather than leverage that starting point to, for example, disseminate the Clan technology already in production with Blackwell, Colonel Wolf simply offered the Dragoons once more as frontline shock troops. Then when that contract ended, he in turn offered the same deal to the Combine, leading raids against the Federated Suns until the Combine betrayed you all. And now...” I glanced around the room daring any of the officers to interject even as I kept my voice almost conversationally polite, “you all seem determined to launch a private Trial of Annihilation against the Draconis Combine that can - that will only end one way…”
...with you all dead and your mission dead in the grave with you I didn’t say, but I saw that the implication was very clearly understood as Ardan now glanced at me before leaning forward, causing me to slip back in my chair slightly as he took the lead again in the eerie, numb silence.
“From a mission analysis point of view Colonel” Ardan took over, directly his attention at Jamie who seemed to with an almost physical effort push aside his introspective pensiveness to meet the AFFS officers gaze, “you’ve had most of a decade to start laying the groundwork for defending against a Clan invasion but, as far as LIC and MIIO can tell, no clear work has been done along those lines.”
He wasn’t lying. MIIO and LIC had with some urgency retraced the Dragoons steps not quite down to the micron since their final resupply run, looking for any fingers in any pies in the private sector to confirm my assertions they had done diddly squat. And, with the exception of Blackwell Industries who were still mostly a component manufacturer on New Valencia set up in their early years in the Inner Sphere, the spooks were confident in saying they hadn’t done shit in the private sector.
And as for the Government sector?
Well, Katrina might be ruthlessly pragmatic enough to play the ‘we knew all along’ game against Snord, but word was she was highly unimpressed by Snord, on Jamie’s orders, holding back a whole butload of Lostech from her. To say nothing of the whole Castle Brian thing. Granted, Helm now made his finds almost inconsequential, but the fact was he had covered it up rather than take the perfect opportunity of a genuine Lostech find to nudge the Inner Spheres technology along and repay her loyalty to him with loyalty to her.
‘Just as planned’ or not, suffice to say I didn’t think she would be visiting his museum anytime soon.
“The continued Mercenary work for and against the two states most directly in the path of a Clan invasion has only served to weaken them” Ardan continued in clinical tone of a staff officer as I mused over the reports from the spooks. “Add to that precisely targeted raids on key Federated Suns key industrial and R&D facilities and House Davion’s efforts to rebuild Star League military technology that might have helped close the technological gap with the Clans have been significantly set back. On the face of it, as my Prince and the Archon see it” he added to make sure that everyone knew this was coming from the top, “the Dragoon’s actions over the last decade have in a systematic way weakened the Inner Sphere against a hypothetical Clan Invasion. Not strengthened it.”
And everyone in the room flinched from that blunt rebuke, with Jamie simply closing his eyes.
It was perfectly understandable that the Dragoons had not been expecting to come into this meeting to have Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner deliver, via proxy, an assessment of their success in following their mission orders amounting to ‘it’s near impossible to tell if you were deliberately trying to ****** things up or if you were just that ****** incompetent; keyword, ******’.
It was also understandable that such an assessment brutally shoved in their face in parallel to having their entire super-secret identities ripped open, would be a hell of a lot to deal with.
Kathleen Dumont of Delta Regiment for example had an expression that suggested she was trying to swallow something very bitter and choking on it, looking around for one of her fellow officers to rebut the blunt accusation Ardan had leveled … but none of them, not even Jamison who just looked … defeated perhaps, stepped up to confront the accusation hanging in the air like a gunshot.
Wow. I think we broke the Dragoons.
‘Good….good!’ Shoulder Devil Consequences Palpatine cackled…
Then finally Jamie Wolf inhaled sharply and deeply, his eyes still closed … then exhaled. Moments later his eyes opened and his face, while looking rattled, had regained enough of its strength and poise to immediately draw all attention and rally his officers out of their numb despondency as he leaned forward, his eyes rising to meet our gazes.
He didn’t speak immediately. No-one spoke; the Dragoons clearly very happy to defer to him the question only he could answer … and Ardan and I were in no hurry to rush him either. We’d shoved him head first into the crucible, now it was time to see if we had something we could work with … or a man whose only desire really was ‘Suicide by Coordinator.’
I couldn’t help but idly think how incredibly awesome it would be if he now stood up, smiled, threw his arms wide and shouted ‘The Aristocrats!!’ in response to our accusations...
“This discussion seems to be leading to a singular question Colonel” Jamie instead observed shrewdly. “One that I think we both know you need to ask on behalf of the First Prince and Archon before we move any further ... and so I invite you to ask it.”
Ardan considered that for a moment before slowly nodding and sitting up, his uniform sharp and his bearing implacable, but oddly enough it didn’t feel accusing. More ... simply curious?
“You are, of course, correct Colonel. They insisted before we begin negotiations for your employment that we establish clearly the answer to this question. Do you Colonel -and the Dragoons- ultimately stand in defense of the Inner Sphere against the cause of the Crusaders? Or do you still stand as their vanguard for an invasion?”
Boom - Mic drop.
Not just ‘a question’, but ‘the question’.
Some tiny part of me felt bad for Jamie being put on the spot like this. Of being forced to choose a side ... but only a tiny part.
The majority of me that had needed to find a way to come to terms with the sheer insanity of the truth of my existence as a quantum clone of John Smith inside Battletech … had the universe's smallest violin ready to play about having difficult decisions to make.
At the academy it had been beaten into my head that the single most precious asset in any military operation of any scale was time. Time was a finite resource we would never get back - and if I/we had butterflied the invasion even closer inadvertently, that was time a great many people may rue having been pissed down the drain by Jamie Wolf.
“However” Ardan added smoothly. “They also understand that is a question that the Dragoons can only answer collectively. Accordingly, Smith and I will retire to Bravo One for the rest of the day” he named a massive complex in the still AFFS occupied region of the base, starting to gather his papers and put them back into his. “In the meantime, please have your staff forward your supply and shipping requests to my staff and I’ll see what can be done to expedite them. Otherwise, Smith and I will be around for at least the next two weeks and await your convenience to continue our discussions.”
Ardans sudden desire to end the meeting was like a valve being shut that let out all the tension in the room at once, the Dragoon officers all seemed to slump into their seats slightly at that. And the news that the Archon and First Prince were not rushing into this but were now giving them the courtesy and honor of time to stop, take a breath and think carefully about their future.
The sense of sheer relief in the room was palpable.
Not from Wolf though who as the seconds continued to tick over seemed to steadily piece himself back together until now he was all but the same officer who I had seen when we entered the room in all respects.
“Thank you Colonel - I do think a recess for wider discussions would be best before proceeding” he agreed, giving Ardan an incline of his head as he stood - and dammit, I couldn’t help but feel grudging admiration for the man’s poise and dignity. That he had pulled himself together after being outright accused of dereliction of duty on a humanity wide scale so fast? The man regenerated faster than a frigen Borg Cube…
Although his spy chief looked about as pale as a Borg Drone...
“I think we can all agree the Dragoons have some major decisions to make … however” Wolf added his voice back to full gravitas as Ardan stood, followed by me and the rest of the room. “Colonel Sortek, I wish once again to stress our deepest gratitude for everything the Prince and Archon have done for us over this year. A great many of my people are alive thanks to their efforts and I assure you that we will not forget it” he said, extending his hand across the table.
Ardan didn’t hesitate to reach out and shake it firmly, giving Wolf a respectful nod.
“Colonel, Colonels, Majors” he firewalled Jamie and nodded to the other officers and with that, he handed me his case and I followed him out the room like an obedient aide-de-camp.
Scarface Step number three; complete.
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Wonderfully written, this is a great story. Lots of depth and tons of fun! Thanks for sharing!
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is it just me? or is there a hint that they Smith and company have a few "gifts" waiting on the WD if they decided to fight the clans? I wonder how long it would take Blackwell heavy to start limited SL tech production. They have been dealing with New Valencia all the back in 3007.
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This is the big deal for all this mess. It questions some of the most egregious portions of BattleTech's history that had suffered significant RETCON'd.
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is it just me? or is there a hint that they Smith and company have a few "gifts" waiting on the WD if they decided to fight the clans? I wonder how long it would take Blackwell heavy to start limited SL tech production. They have been dealing with New Valencia all the back in 3007.
Mostly components, I'd think - Snord got a lot of them too, remember, and as Clan techs, they wouldn't have problems installing and maintaining them.
Frankly - I think the goons are going to be used to spearhead an assault. On Terra. So they'll get the time to patch their stuff up, fill the holes in the regiments, and eliminate the biggest threat to the IS early as suikrede (? Whatever it is). And the FC gets all the stuff squirreled away by Blake plus the HPG system. That's at least - what - a division?
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Mostly components, I'd think - Snord got a lot of them too, remember, and as Clan techs, they wouldn't have problems installing and maintaining them.
Frankly - I think the goons are going to be used to spearhead an assault. On Terra. So they'll get the time to patch their stuff up, fill the holes in the regiments, and eliminate the biggest threat to the IS early as suikrede (? Whatever it is). And the FC gets all the stuff squirreled away by Blake plus the HPG system. That's at least - what - a division?
I would imagine what TPTB gets is a world undergoing an unscheduled ice age: a 4SW Comstar would not blink at the idea of nuking Terra itself as a spoil sport move.
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Mostly components, I'd think - Snord got a lot of them too, remember, and as Clan techs, they wouldn't have problems installing and maintaining them.
Frankly - I think the goons are going to be used to spearhead an assault. On Terra. So they'll get the time to patch their stuff up, fill the holes in the regiments, and eliminate the biggest threat to the IS early as suikrede (? Whatever it is). And the FC gets all the stuff squirreled away by Blake plus the HPG system. That's at least - what - a division?
I don't know about going after Terra, just yet. they have a good sized fleet 3 Dante's and others. even with Helm, I think they will be able to field more SL tech weapons, for now. maybe instead of 3039 vs the DC. they could go after ComStar then. it is still going to be bloody. what would the Cappies, DC and FWL do while Terra falls?
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An attack on Terra might be too much too soon.
What they could set up is a Rasalhague Republic, and encourage Comstar to post its troops to guard the planets in addition to theHPGs, saying that Comstar is neutral between Lyrans and Draconis. When the Clans invade, Comstar's troops get hit hard and they need reinforcements. Will the WoB troops come out to play? If WoB tries to use nukes, Rasalhague complains, and that lets both both Lyrans and Draconis complain about the nuclear weaponry. If WoB types keep their troops hidden for a later reveal, the Precentor Martial will be very angry with Precentor ROM, allowing for the schism in Comstar to happen (so it is easier to spot who is decent vs raving insane).
But for now, the key tech to get into service is DHS. They allow any Mech to have much better cooling than before, meaning they can be more aggressive. In the meantime, simulators allow Davion and Lyran troops to start testing themselves against OpFors that have better weaponry, and are individually better skilled. They might even give the OpFors better weaponry than what the Clans actually have, so the troops aren't that intimidated when the funny animal worshiping cultists start attacking.
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the two things that they need more of DHS hands down but XL engines. they need DHS by the dropship load a month.
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At the moment Comstar has a few warships with green crews, they have the remains of the SDS.
For the rest they mainly have pirate bands and a few green combined arms units.
Now would be a very bad time for Comstar if anybody decided to attack them.
It would be interesting to see what is going to happen especially if the FS gets the Dragoons to use their warships. :thumbsup:
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It would be interesting to see what is going to happen especially if the FS gets the Dragoons to use their warships. :thumbsup:
Hence, Terra. WarShip vs. WarShip action! Clan Wolf's Dragoons takes Terra, becomes IlClan! Homeworld Clans furious! News at 11!
At the moment Comstar has a few warships with green crews, they have the remains of the SDS.
SDS? Source, please. I thought those were all gone!
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Hence, Terra. WarShip vs. WarShip action! Clan Wolf's Dragoons takes Terra, becomes IlClan! Homeworld Clans furious! News at 11!
SDS? Source, please. I thought those were all gone!
SDS just means space defense system. Ground to space weapons are an SDS you don't need Caspers.
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"Takashi Kurita had noted in Wolves on the Border that Jamie Wolf wore such a perfect mask that it was all but impossible to see real man behind it. Framed in chi bullshit of course, but fundamentally the Coordinator had been annoyed that unlike most people, he simply couldn’t get any read on Jamie in their few encounters, making it impossible for him to anticipate which way Wolf would jump.
That made me regret that I didn’t have a camera to capture the look of numb dumbfounded shock on his face as said iron control shattered, his gaze flickering back and forth between Ardan and I in a way that said he was lost for what to say or do as the rug was entirely brutally ripped out from under his feet."
:D
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Well, if Natasha was there when that was dropped, there would be two gunshots, and the end of these stories. So good thing having her shoot up the target range.
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Red Pins, the SDS remaining at this time was mainly a few ground based systems.
The Wobbies rebuilt a lot of the SDS when they took over including space based Caspers and other automated systems.
But at the moment it is very limited and weak. :thumbsup:
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historically speaking, when did the actually commencement of the SDS rebuild commence? Tukayyid or after?
When I spoke about Comstar playing spoilsport, that's why: Because the way Comstar considered the unlikely event that any one of the houses would invade (they knew just how many jump ships each house had left to a reasonably accuracy plus no active warship capability), they never bothered to consider investing funding into SDS, at least until the 4th succession war and a fully realized Federated Commonwealth. I still believe an invasion attempt would result in Terra's demise because the First Circuit would flip out maxim...
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historically speaking, when did the actually commencement of the SDS rebuild commence? Tukayyid or after?
I´d say after the Word took over Terra. So starting in 3058.
When I spoke about Comstar playing spoilsport, that's why: Because the way Comstar considered the unlikely event that any one of the houses would invade (they knew just how many jump ships each house had left to a reasonably accuracy plus no active warship capability), they never bothered to consider investing funding into SDS, at least until the 4th succession war and a fully realized Federated Commonwealth. I still believe an invasion attempt would result in Terra's demise because the First Circuit would flip out maxim...
After the 2nd Succession War, any attempt to take Terra would have to be without warships, thus without orbital bombardment capability, so a relatively limited amount of ground-based weapon systems to take out approaching troop dropships, with air defenses to protect the weapon systems of ASF attacks, should be more than enough to defend against invasion. Any attacker would need to spread their forces out to cover the entirety of Terra´s surface, meaning no location would be hit by enough ships to overwhelm local SDS systems.
It doesn´t take all that much firepower to destroy/disable troop transports, not compared to the massive firepower needed to fend off warships.
On the other hand, against even the few warships available to Wolf´s Dragoons as orbital support, you´d need a lot more firepower - probably more than Terra had before at least the 3060s canonically.
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remember those WD warships would have very green crews. they have not seen action in 20 some years. (3005-3028). tgat is if they are all still alive. replacements would need to be brought on with no pretraining
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Another thing to consider is that the Dragoons' warships would need time to be recovered and outfitted, let alone crewed. In a few of the source-books that mention them, it was indicated that after the Dragoons recovered their warships it took them about a year to bring them all into fighting trim using the Dragoon facilities orbiting Outreach. Most likely this was just crews of technicians going over each ship and making sure everything was in working order and making small repairs where necessary. That said, there would be no facilities for the Dragoons to do such reactivation at themselves so trying to do the full reactivation themselves would probably take longer than a year, plus the fact that there would be the question of personnel needed to do the reactivation and then crew those ships given the state of the Dragoons at the moment. The Dragoons could probably shave time off by taking the ships to somewhere with orbital shipyards, Galax in the FedSuns for example, but even then there is still the issue of pulling crews together given the current state of the Dragoons.
I would guess that the Dragoons are not going to be able to bring their warships online and back to fighting trim until sometime after the 4SW at the earliest. More likely than not, the ships will be used to help spearhead efforts by the new FedCom to claim the Ruins of Gabriel and all that is there as that would be a far bigger strategic objective than Terra. I could also see a ship or two being used to help find and secure Camelot Command, as that would act as a good forward operating base for FedCom forces when the Clans finally come calling.
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You forgot travel time, too. All of which is beside the point, Hanse isn't going to telegraph the decision to take Terra.
But - the goons are going to make their repairs, take the time to prepare. The wedding is about to happen. Presumably, Justin is going to be there, the triple-strength myomer sample was captured. And all the rest.
I'll go out on a line and make a prediction. The wedding happens, the 4th war goes off, the goons have a minor role, and ComStar goes ahead and Interdicts the FC. Then, it gets interesting. I don't thing there will be a FRR, so no major influx of equipment to the DCMS. Whether they surprise ComStar with a surprise invasion by units 'returning' to posts in the Lyran portion, I don't know. I expect the goon WarShips would lead such an invasion, though.
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historically speaking, when did the actually commencement of the SDS rebuild commence? Tukayyid or after?
There were some orbital defences at thew time WoB took over, controls were targeted by their special forces, but real rebuild started afterwards.
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this is just too freaking AWESOME. Abso-freaking-lutely Love this story.
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Very well done Chris. Keep it up! We can’t wait to read more.
One question: does mr smith know about Camelot Command and the fleet bases that will be used by Comstar? Ross. Lutyen. Some of which were in the Star League Source books so would be in reference material.
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that's a good question, as we really know little of his life before the HPG hijinks'.
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I do not know about your guys, but the reactions after they leave the room with the goons and what happens after smith dropped that bombshell with the clans. I have to say wold is going to really be looking at the head of wolfnet to figure out just what happened for someone to learn thier dark sercert that someone knows way to much about, any chance to see the after action of that little bombshell from the room and the actions of the goons to it?
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I'm waiting for Mr. Smith to say QuiAff or QuiNeg to Natasha, followed by proper Batchcall for an answer.
Before the clans advance thru the periphery! Meaning he uses Clan names for Clan mechs!
TT
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I'm waiting for Mr. Smith to say QuiAff or QuiNeg to Natasha, followed by proper Batchcall for an answer.
Before the clans advance thru the periphery! Meaning he uses Clan names for Clan mechs!
TT
I hope he remembers that distinction: If Smith mentions the terms Mad Cat, Ryoken & Dasher and not Timber Wolf, Storm Crow and Firemoth in front of the 3030 era WD's, you will get blank faces from them just as much as the FEDCOM would be.
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I hope he remembers that distinction: If Smith mentions the terms Mad Cat, Ryoken & Dasher and not Timber Wolf, Storm Crow and Firemoth in front of the 3030 era WD's, you will get blank faces from them just as much as the FEDCOM would be.
I'd be tempted to be a bit more subtle and ask their opinion on removing the Large Pulse Laser from his customised MAD-2R and adding some missile launchers, maybe grafting on external boxy ones like on a Capellan Catapult...
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do we know what ships or other assets were at the Ruins of Gabriel?
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No, but it is theorized that it houses some mothballed warships and maintainance/repair facilities, probably looked after by a skeleton crew at this point.
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can you post a copy of the recovered stuff from Helm? I know it was on spacebattles somewhere.
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537 Battlemechs Total.
430 Assaults
Royal Battlemechs(49);
25 Assaults
4 x HGN-732b Highlander
2 x Rifleman II
6 x BLR-1Gb Battlemaster
12 x THG-11Eb Thug
1 x DVS-2 Devastator*
12 Heavies
8 x MAD-2R Marauder
4 x BL-6b-KNT Black Knight
12 Lights
12 x MON-66b Mongoose
SLDF Regulars(488);
397 Assaults
52 x AS7-D Atlas
84 x AWS-8Q Awesome
52 x Various Mackies, MSK-9Hs and custom jobs of same mostly. One WTF Royal grade job with a pair of Snubbies!!??
36 x LGB-7Q Longbow
3 x SHG-2F Shogun
20 x CP-10-Z Cyclops
30 x TDK-7X Thunder Hawk
72 x THG-11E Thug
48 x STK-3F Stalker
38 Mediums
8 x CRB-27 Crabs
12 x PXH-1 Phoenix Hawks
12 x VL-2T Vulcans
6 x DV-6Md Dervish
53 Light mechs
36 x LCT-1V Locusts
12 x FFL-4B Firefly
5 x FLC-4P Falcon
2106 Combat vehicles
576 x Alacorn Mk VI Heavy Combat Tanks (yes, five hundred and seventy six :wtf:)
50 x Burke Combat Tanks
24 x Royal Burk Combat Tanks
36 x Chaparral Missile Tanks
4 x Kanga Jumping Hovertank
401 x Von Luckner Assault Tanks
51 x Royal Von Luckner Assault Tanks
155 x Demon Combat vehicle.
341 x Generic LRM Launcher
44 x Generic SRM Launcher
12 x PAT-005b Puma ASsault tanks
36 x Royal Zephyr scout tank
150 x Mobile Long Tom Artillary Vehicles
100 x Thor Combat Vehicles
120 x Bulldog Combat Tanks
1000 Utility Vehicles.
Not even going to try. Mostly trucks and the like. Unsurprisingly most of the useful things like industrailmechs, construction and engineering vehicles, communications vehicles, long range transports; all the stuff that would be of great use as you settle some planet a long way away, were loaded up by the Exodus fleet as the SLDF slowly assembled. Also why a lot of the faster hover vehicles and transports were taken.
Some highlights include 6 SLDF Mobile HQs, 2 MASH units and a mobile water purification and pumping vehicle that somehow got left behind.
Infantry gear;
20,000 Infantry kits Including standard issue rifles, heavy weapons and specalist kits, communications gear e.t.c.
Spare Parts;
56,553 tons assorted spare parts. Roughly 48% would qualify as Lostech by tonnage. Over 10K tons are FF field armor patches.
Ammunition:
100K tons plus ammunition, mostly left behind as too dangerous. Exceptions made for some units with a cross selection of Arrow-IV, heavy gun ammo, some carefully packed LBX/10 shells NARC/Art IV/Streak missiles very carefully handled to remove the guidence and electronics from the fuels and explosives, dozens of samples of each.
*Devy isn't technically a Royal Mech but only because it was in prototype stages when the Coup went down and the SLDF had better things to do than label things as this or that.
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Is it just me or am I the only one that wants Katrina and Mr. Smith to get together? Would of been awesome if instead of a noble title he asked katrina out on a date :D :thumbsup:
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death by snu snu
:D :D :D
>:D >:D
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Damn you Dave. I thought another chapter was posted.
Chris.
Eagerly awaiting the next instalment
Excellent work
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blame Zureal
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I'm blaming both of you!!!
Chris? For you... : :whip:
TT
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death by snu snu
:D :D :D
>:D >:D
Well, so far - Kim Sorenson, Katrina Steiner and Natasha Kerensky. In the area of knowing hot, deadly woman, is in a good rol.
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I'm blaming both of you!!!
Chris? For you... : :whip:
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blame Zureal
Do not hate, apreciate :D I also know that you came back thinking this was the next chapter >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D
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Do not hate, apreciate :D I also know that you came back thinking this was the next chapter >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D
You're an evil, evil person. Haha.
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Zureal
(https://bg.battletech.com/forums/user-avatars/avatar_416_1312076968.png)
Do apreciate :D I also know that you came thinking Dinosaur Hunting Guns: Taking Down T-Rex and Other Extinct Reptiles >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D >:D
https://www.outdoorlife.com/blogs/gun-shots/2013/04/best-dinosaur-guns-taking-down-t-rex-and-other-extinct-reptiles (https://www.outdoorlife.com/blogs/gun-shots/2013/04/best-dinosaur-guns-taking-down-t-rex-and-other-extinct-reptiles)
TT
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Damm I was looking for more story
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Zureal
(https://bg.battletech.com/forums/user-avatars/avatar_416_1312076968.png)
https://www.outdoorlife.com/blogs/gun-shots/2013/04/best-dinosaur-guns-taking-down-t-rex-and-other-extinct-reptiles (https://www.outdoorlife.com/blogs/gun-shots/2013/04/best-dinosaur-guns-taking-down-t-rex-and-other-extinct-reptiles)
TT
Seconded where's my BFG LOL
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So this updated today and it was simply Marvelous!
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Here's a direct link to todays update, over at Spacebattles: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-320#post-53099626 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-320#post-53099626)
I imagine Chris will posting the update here as soon as he has the time, so no complaining.
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*Reads Chapter 13* *brain explodes* HOLY... That sh... that was awesome. Gloriously awesome...
is there ANY plans to make this a module or officially made book, like that other official AU book?
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I wonder if they can have the walking wounded Wofl's Dragoons hired for Cadre contracts, essentially teaching the FC technical teams about the Star League and Clan technology, plus classes for Mechwarriors about how to properly use it?
Kurita is going to be very unhappy when his spies relay to him about how Davion is making use of the Dragoons. Especially since most of the knowledge is coming from the Dragoon tech teams (civilians) , rather than the Mechwarriors (warriors). That could drive home the point to someone in the Draconis Combine that a society of warriors is not the best result
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Hehee! See ya, suckers! 20,000 new words to this story on SB.
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Have to say that the local character limit really makes me a sad panda :(
Oh well, here we go!
Chapter 13: Bargined Well and - ohh! Shinies!
Leaving the meeting room, Ardan and I moved past the two surprised guards outside and retraced our steps back to the elevators without need for an escort. With some effort I ignored the curious and sometimes worried looks from Dragoons in the bullpen at us leaving a meeting barely twenty minutes after it had started.
One that should have easily lasted hours.
Arriving in the Mech Hangar I will admit I glanced around looking for Kerensky’s Warhammer either in its bay or waiting in a dark corner like a fourteen-meter-tall boogeyman. I didn’t see it, so I didn’t quite run to get into my Battlemech and power it up rapidly, just in case she was heading back in this direction. Ardan also seemed to want to move with a touch of haste and the two of us had our Battlemechs in motion within a minute of getting into them. I fell in behind him as we left the hanger, walking out into the late afternoon sun and clearing the Dragoons HQ without incident. Five minutes later we were through the gate into the AFFS side of the base.
Only then did I exhale and let a little of the tension loose, mentally forcing myself to stop gripping the two control sticks so tightly.
So. The Dragoons knew we knew.
For the record, I was not convinced this was a good idea. At all.
No matter how fun it had been to slap the Dragoons in the face with the reality of their inactivity.
My plan - THE plan as far as I had known until Ardan came calling and ripped me out of school - had been to just follow the original plan.
Because say what you will, it had worked. The Dragoons had skulled down a few cans of Red Bull, set their RAGE levels to 1.5 times the Smoke Jaguar Average and done the whole Neo ‘come at me bro’ gesture to the Combine by scorning and calling out Takashi in front of his peers. The Combine had happily obliged; focusing the DCMS efforts on the Federated Suns front in the 4th Succession War, mitigating losses there to less than a dozen worlds despite a near naked border - with almost no deeper raiding. And of the worlds lost, only Marduk could be said to be of real strategic value - and secondary value at that.
But this time?
Marduk now had the Grey Death Legion of all groups camping out on it - a Grey Death Legion who had apparently expanded to almost two Battalions of Mechs with significant supporting arms when I wasn’t looking. Even better, according to Ardan, they were very eager to prove themselves worthy of their absurdly generous contract terms and, assuming Grayson Carlyle was half the tactical genius he was in Battletech, that should be enough to beat up any credible invasion force Kurita might be able to throw at them, steal their lunch money and give Lori plenty of material for snarky comments. Snords Irregulars had been loaned by Katrina to Aaron Sandoval and Hanse had even issued them one of of the captured DCMS Invaders (with the hint that if they did a good job they might just be allowed to keep it). The Light Horse had also been pulled from RAT to stay on Robinson with their own extensive private Jumpship fleet as a mobile reserve, their place apparently backfilled by some reshuffles Yvonne had done in tightening their plans based on my sources. Meaning Aaron Sandoval now had some extra cards to play defending the March.
So we had extra units, increased direct and indirect starting damage to the DCMS thanks to the Dragoons and Light Horse and a sudden shortage of DCA Jumpships on top of that? I think if Jamie had been allow to simply go off and goad Takashi without us jumping in to muddy the waters, we would have gotten a better result than the original timeline! And, when the war was over, the Dragoons would still be at their weakest ever point, without the Clans to run home to and needing a patron…
Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner however ... disagreed.
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It only took us minutes to reach the AFFS outer perimeter, but Fort Susan Sandoval was massive. In addition to its logistical node functions, it had been built to garrison up to four RCTs at once, rare as it might be to see such a force concentration. Ardan and I had to walk for another ten klicks to reach our destination; complex Bravo-One. A general-purpose warehouse belonging to the AFFS Department of the Quartermaster. Although calling it a ‘Warehouse’ would be understating it somewhat, in my opinion; it made an Amazon fulfillment center look like kiddy’s stuff.
The core building was well over a klick long, a massive trapezoidal hunk of reinforced ferrocrete that was apparently rated to survive a near miss from a strategic nuclear ground burst, with a sub-basement twice as large buried under the tarmac. There were loading docks scattered around the building and several small office buildings connected to the side of it where the people who ran the whole logistical nightmare worked. Unusually however, given that we were well inside the outer and inner perimeters of the base, there was a standing guard force deployed here in Draconis March Militia uniforms. That said guards were a mixture of Davion Guards Special Forces and DMI Commandos was something few people on the base knew and hopefully fewer people would find out.
We parked our rides in a convenient lance-sized Mech hangar next to said warehouse before submitting to a complete electronic and physical search to make sure no bugs had been planted on us, even as Techs arrived to get started checking out our rides for the same. Paranoia perhaps, but we knew 7th Kommando and Wolfnet had access to a lot of the SLDFs best toys, quite possibly with a few Clan enhancements on top. As unlikely as it was that the Dragoons would have bugged us - especially given they had no idea what had been coming - it never paid to be sloppy or casual about such things.
In any event nothing harmful was found and Ardan and I moved into a small fourth floor office that Ardan’s DMI and MIIO staff had taken over, monitoring the events playing out after our unsubtle flipping the table.
As anticipated, it seemed almost the entire Dragoons Officer Corps was being called in by Wolf to join the Regimental Commanders for an urgent meeting, with Wolf even having some of the less seriously wounded who were on bed rest being kicked out of said beds to join in on the fun. Snord and his daughter had also been called in, which I actually felt bad for, given that the surveillance feed showed they had been down on the bases extensive private beach with the Irregulars and most of the Black Widows. It looked to be pretty friggin rockin beach party too, with the irregulars having ‘borrowed’ an AFFS field kitchen and having acquired an impressive amount of booze, food and other such supplies from who knows where. Rhoanda had even moved her lostech Highlander down there to serve as a combination jukebox and power source for some portable equipment they had set up.
Too bad I didn’t have anything from the Beach Boys on my iPhone I thought with a mental sigh. Would have been hilarious at a Beach Party to have ‘Help me Rhonda’ playing...
At any rate, I suppose after freezing their asses off on Misery; celebrating their victory with sand, sun and surf wasn’t actually a half bad idea and the Irregulars and Widows were clearly getting on like matches and high-octane gas. Unsurprising perhaps, given that both units were 99% made up of local Spheroid crazies. Alas, a Bandit appeared not too long after Ardan and I got back, blowing sand everywhere before William Cameron jumped out, grabbed the two Snords, dragged them on board and blasted back to base at maximum overthrust. Their absence hadn’t seemed to dampen the party one bit though, as afternoon turned to dusk. What if the use of man-portable flamers to ignite a roaring beach bonfire out of hastily looted packing crates and an effigy dressed in what looked suspiciously like the uniform of a Draconis Combine Warlord, was any indicator...
Simply put, it was clear that I had kicked over an ant’s nest. Dragoons were coming in from every direction to the Dragoons HQ building. Even from Geosynch where EVA teams and utility shuttles were carefully putting Hephaestus Station back together like a giant jigsaw puzzle, a drop shuttle had gathered several officers and screamed for the ground with scant regard for traffic controls objections. And after Kenneth Quo and his team had joined everyone else in the hall, the doors were shut, electronic countermeasures hastily installed by Dragoons techs activated and we had nothing to do but wait as dusk steadily gave way to night.
As much as we would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that meeting, Ardan had flatly refused the eager suggestions from the office full of spooks on ways they could easily bug it and get around such hasty countermeasure installs. Which was probably the right call; being discovered bugging them right now would only undermine the months of painstaking work done to contrast ourselves from the Combine, right up to Ardan respectfully giving the Dragoons space and time to work through this new paradigm.
It was hard though, for me to simply do nothing. Unlike say Helm or New Dallas, we were now entirely reliant on other people for the decisions going ahead. It wouldn’t be our actions this time, but their reactions and choices that drove this ... and we could do little but call the pot, put our cards on the table and see how things went down.
And so as the sun set and dusk turned to night, we did that thing all soldiers hated more than most anything else; we waited.
“You certainly didn’t pull any punches with Wolf, John” Ardan observed as we sat down in an empty office, alone now for the first time in many hours, the two of us nursing cups of coffee after a light -but far better than Zero-G ration packs- dinner. I hadn’t really cared for the drink much in my old life - alone in that among all my family, work colleagues and friends - but I had come to appreciate it through boot camp as being the only hot drink on offer most of the time.
“Hey, I didn’t call him the vanguard of an invasion of the twisted degenerate inbred delusion of the Star League dreamed up by a madman with a thing for test tubes, not even once!”
“Yes, and I’ll be sure to note that restraint in my report” Sortek deadpanned, eyeing me from across the table and I took the rebuke for what it was as I straightened up in my seat. I had been given the latitude to troll the Wolf … now it was time to start acting like a professional again.
“I think we hit the mark pretty much dead on” I decided after a moment's consideration, dropping the snark to consider the meeting as objectively as I could. “The Dragoons were always largely a personality cult built around Jamie Wolf. Where he goes, they go - especially at this point when they are still homogeneous in their makeup. I mean, you saw in there how eager they were to follow him back into the Dragon's lair? I think they’ll just as readily follow him into our plans. Assuming, of course, that we convinced him.”
“That is the question” Ardan agreed, sounding happier with me giving analysis over attitude. “Based on your information, Clan society and leadership certainly seems to favor short term tactical thinking over long term planning and strategic vision … it’s honestly not terribly surprising that Wolf tunnel visioned on finding the next war rather than trying to figure out how he and his people would even get started on as broad a set of independent orders as ‘prepare the Inner Sphere for a Clan invasion.’”
I grunted at that, not exactly agreeing. There were in fact Gods knows how many ways he could have started that work. What between Wolfnet, Snord and Blackwell; even if he didn’t want to directly make a move he had plenty of avenues to look at doing so. But, we were past that now. And Ardan did have a point that even trying to think in that fashion couldn’t be easy for a Clanner, even one as exposed to the Inner Sphere as Jamie had been.
“People like Ulric Kerensky are the exceptions to the rule and notable because of it” I shrugged instead, tacitly agreeing. “The ability to be able to think and -more importantly- effectively operate on a strategic time frame in a culture where any decision can be challenged in a ‘might makes right’ fight to the death? That certainly takes a rare combination of skills. I’ll actually give Jaime credit for at least sort-of thinking about his mission now and again. Kerensky though? She just wanted to outright forget about it and go find the next target to blow up. I swear that woman has the strategic analysis capabilities of an unholy union of Romano Liao and Aleksandr Kerensky...”
“I wouldn’t say that around Natasha” Ardan said, sounding mildly amused - perhaps at my continuing contempt for the legendary SLDF general. An inspirational leader for sure, but ultimately in my mind (and happily, Hanse ****** Davion fully agreed with me) a Battalion Commander promoted so fast and far beyond his experience that it wasn’t terribly surprising his strategic thinking boiled down to ‘I will cunningly send wave after wave of men at the Caspers until they reach their pre-programed kill limit and shut down!’.
Or, as TV Tropes would have put it; ‘We Have Reserves!’ Yvonne Davion had apparently let loose a very rare snorting burst of laughter when she read my Zap Brannigan snarking of his strategic failures in my debriefing comments, which had been included as background around the whole Clan information pack. Something I was rather proud of.
“Probably not a good idea” I agreed. On general principals in fact; the longer I stayed away from Natasha the better. Unstoppable killing-machine hellbitch that she was, she certainly wasn’t a long-term thinker and I didn’t really want to risk her trying to shoot the horse after it had bolted or something. I mean, even in the ****** Clan homeworlds Natasha was known to definitely lack the ‘Kerensky vision’ that Ulric had - and boy was that saying something if even Clanners thought so! Her ‘strategic review’ of the state of the Inner Sphere at the start of Lethal Heritage … well, clearly, she had her talents but strategic analysis was not one of them.
“But beyond a lack of critical strategic thinking skills” I continued, “I’m also going to guess that Natasha declaring the whole idea of the Inner Sphere being unable to defend itself came down largely to CSS.”
“CSS?” Ardan blinked and I waved a hand idly.
“Oh. Clanner Superiority Syndrome” I explained and that caused Ardan to roll his eyes - but there was a faint smile on his face to hold back the edge of the gesture. “They’re a step up from Homo-Sapiens and have either ‘a right to dominate and lead’, or, ‘a responsibility to magnanimously step in and protect’ because we’re incapable of looking after ourselves - especially against other superior Clanners.”
“Ah” he said, rolling his eyes with exquisite tact and left it there as we both took a sip of our drinks.
I might be being unfair to the Dragoons -not bloody likely- but I always had a sneaking suspicion that, like most Clanners, the original Dragoons had an instinctive belief in their superiority over the rest of mankind on a fundamental evolutionary level. Even if only subconsciously; they believed that only Clanners - even Freeborn renegade Clanners - had any hope of saving the Inner Sphere from the Clans. Even the Warden philosophy at its core still held that the Inner Sphere would inevitably need them to come in and save it from something the poor dumb Spheroids couldn’t handle at some point rather than admitting a warrior society needed a war to justify its existence. So, despite mankind being out in space for a thousand years and the Clans entire existence being barely two centuries worth of it and a population disparity just this side of hilariously lopsided, apparently we were all helpless little sheep needing either culling or petting…
Such an attitude helped explained things like Jamie Wolfs ‘Complete waste of time 3051!’ conference on Outreach to try and teach combat Veterans -with victories against the Clans under their belts no less! - how to be Clan Warriors to face them. Because, of course, real war wasn’t about silly things like sitting down in the Year of Peace to plan logistics, troop movements, industrial plans and technology transfers, combined arms applications or strategic warfare modeling between the Generals of the Great Houses to present a unified front and compare notes…
No, it was entirely about shiny toys on the field driven by Übermensch who would sweep across the Inner Sphere like an unstoppable fire unless they prepared their own Übermensch to stop them on the Clans terms...
At least part of today with our casual attitude was ripping Wolf and his people, hard, out of their comfortable little world. That the primitive spheroids with a polite, almost indifferent air knew their SUPER AMAZING SECRET … and we barely cared. We had plans well underway to deal with it without their Genetically Superior asses even being involved or required … and we were pointedly asking where they stood. Not leading us, but either with us … or against us.
It was going to be interesting to see how they took this brave new world or if their wittle fragile minds cracked under the strain of new ideas…
Still it didn’t look like much would happen anytime today. The Dragoons Officers had been in conference for hours now - unsurprising if Jamie was bringing all the Spheroids in the Dragoons officer corps into the truth and good luck with that. I mean, how did you sort of explain that their comrades in arms who they trusted with their lives were the vanguard of an invasion force made of the twisted remains of the SLDF who wanted to enslave their home?
Outside that fun, Jeremy Ellman, the former Beta Regiment commander who had retired but been convinced by Jamie to stay on as the head of Training Command, had been left in command of the Dragoons by Jamie. Unsurprisingly it seemed there was a lot of initial uneasiness from the line troops and support personnel in the way the entire Dragoons officer corps had, after a brief meeting with Hanse Davions Pimp Hand, scrambled into a closed meeting like they did. Ellman was the ideal choice to put in charge for now, being both very well respected and having a very level head on his shoulders that did wonders to calm down any jumpy troops. He had gone on a tour of the base, kicking asses of people who were slacking off from their jobs to worry, making sure the Home Guard (who directly answered to him anyway) were standing their posts calmly and not getting nervous or twitchy. The only real excitement seemed to be when the Widows and Irregulars staggered back into the base roaring drunk and Ellman had the MPs find some hole to throw them into to sleep it off.
Ultimately, our best guess was that the Dragoons leadership team would make decisions tonight, present them to the officers and - presuming everyone agreed- tomorrow the rest of the Dragoons would be brought up to speed. To that end, Ardan had dismissed me while he caught up on paperwork and reports, leaving me to find my quarters. Bravo-One was so damn huge that a couple of dozen rooms in a next-door building were rapidly convertible into bunk rooms for the rare but certainly not unprecedented need to bunk down people here during busy times. It was hardly the height of luxury, the fold-out bed looked about as comfortable as the one in boot … but again, seriously, compared to zero-g hammocks?
And so, I had a hot shower with unlimited water - ****** yes! - and after getting changed into a shirt and shorts, set my alarm and crashed into the bed with a sigh… yeah this one felt exactly like the cot from boot.
Only now I wasn’t lying down in the dark worrying about the next day of pain ... now I got to lie down in the dark and worry if I had just strategically ****** the Federated Suns Combine Front good and proper!
Or, to be a little fair; if Hanse and Katrina had done so.
The two House Lords and their inner circle had, according to their letter to me, concluded after talks with their various naval specialists that the Dragoons trying to blindly grope their way back to the Clan Homeworlds was a nonstarter. Ergo, they were not afraid of the Dragoons running home to raise the alarm that the Clans cover was blown, which gave them a lot more freedom of action with the Dragoons ‘trapped’ in the Inner Sphere as the FedCom powers were the only rational choice for a patron.
I mean, it was just a little unlikely they would run back to the Combine - no check that. A little unlikely they would run back to the Combine without murder-death-kill intentions. The Confederation would probably love to impress them into the CCAF in their weakened state and Jamie would probably be less than enthused about that crazy daughter of Mad Max trying to marry and/or have him killed once again - not to mention Romano on top of that.
Although that could lead to hilarious sitcom potential with Justin also in the mix now that I thought about it…
The Free Worlds League was a valid possibility, but they were both some distance away and still the source of painful memories with all manner of growing internal problems.
Hanse Davion’s original timeline AstroTurf internal frictions he had set up to keep the Mariks out of the 4th Succession War had now been well overtaken by a far more serious spat rapidly spiraling out of control from the fallout of Helm. Most especially the (entirely true) fact that Lord Garth of Irian had been trying to get at the cache to give him the military muscle to overthrow the Captain General. Apparently SAFE (whose foreign intelligence sucked balls but whose internal counter-intelligence was actually considered first class, especially when focused on internal frictions) had found more than enough circumstantial evidence to convince the Captain General of Garth intentions… just not quite enough to be able to openly accuse him with hard proof.
Not yet anyway.
Things hadn’t decayed (yet) to active shooting, but provincial and Federal units were quietly shifting around - making everyone nervous - and every other province was eagerly maneuvering politically to see how they might be able to take advantage of the situation. Hanses original timeline had suddenly accelerated away into something far more genuine without him having to do a damn thing and I suspected that jumping into another Free Worlds League civil war appealed to the Dragoons about as much as retiring to become farmers.
Still, there were always other options … it was just a question of if you were willing or just desperate enough to risk the odds.
And that was the billion C-Bill question that was keeping me awake in my bed.
Were there enough people desperate enough to risk it?
The Dragoons Warships had very deep cargo holds and plenty of room for dropships carrying extra personnel and supplies if enough of the Dragoons decided to run for it - even if it would probably take a bit of time to get them up and running. Wolfnet could surely use that time to get enough data from Inner Sphere Periphery traders to guide them as far as the Chainelane Isles; a Periphery microstate a few hundred light years past the official Coreward Periphery border. A useful starting point given that it had Inner Sphere links … but it also had a lot of data on the deeper, darker things lurking out there if you knew who to ask. ‘Data’ that just might include directions to the Hanseatic League or JàrnFòlk; real deep Periphery cultures that in turn had some contact with the Clans...
I mean, I had suggested exactly that progression to MIIO when they had asked for suggestions on how to get people into the Kerensky Cluster!
Of course, that was a highly unlikely, worst case scenario. While there might be one or two outliers who would want to go back to the Clans because they were cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, a trained warship crew that did not make. Add to that the ranting of Singh in ‘Wolves on the Border’ that suggested the ‘you cannot go home again’ factoid was already well known and accepted but there had been no civil war or split as a result of it.
And it wasn’t hard to understand why either.
I mean, the best their Mechwarriors could expect on getting back given their Freeborn status and age, would be a pat on the back and demotion to infantry cannon fodder if they were very very lucky. And the non-combat arms? Say goodbye to the freedom of the Inner Sphere and hello to the tech cast, merchant cast and labor cast with all the wonderful ‘you are property for the Warriors to trade around at will’ fun. The odds were good that Kerlin Ward and Ulric Kerensky had stacked the Dragoons with exactly the kind of Freeborns who would only go back if dragged in chains kicking and screaming after having a taste of the Inner Sphere. To say nothing of the Dragoons Inner Sphere comrades in arms, families and support personnel who’d probably be rather less inclined to pack up and wander off to an alien society where they would be fourth class barbarian-bondsmen at best...
No. By in large the Inner Sphere was a paradise for the Freeborn of the Clans. Especially the more liberal states of the FedCom and Free Worlds League. The only one with skin in the game on their silly breeding program by having a Bloodname -as far as I knew- was Kerensky and she clearly hadn’t really given a toss. Even when the formal recall order had come in the original timeline, she alone had obeyed it seemingly to fight against the invasion from the other side of the fence, alongside Ulric. Possibly -probably- a hedge she and Jamie had decided on to cover their bases given that she was the only one the Clans had to even pretend to listen to, being a Clan Bloodnamed Council member.
But in any event … worrying about this was pointless.
The die was now cast. I had ****** cast it. All we could do was see which face came up.
So I flipped over, closed my eyes and tried to get some sleep
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My alarm went off at 05:30 on the dot and I was up and moving before my brain finished coming online as I threw of my blankets and rolled out of the camp cot. So automatic were my motions that I was up and yanking on clothes for about ten seconds before I realized that this wasn’t boot and I didn’t have an angry NCO inbound to berate us for not being up and ready within sixty seconds of the end of the designated sleep time.
This was worse.
Well I thought glancing around the room, at least Natasha isn’t sitting in a dark corner brooding at me while petting a giant slugthrower…
I jumped into the shower - and hissed as by either design or some stupid plumbing mistake, I got a face full of cold water. I gritted my teeth and pushed through. It was sure as hell not the first time I had had to suffer such things in training- and it did wake me up rather effectively.
With that done I threw on a fresh duty uniform, made the bed and cleaned the room (some habits die hard I suppose) before heading out and downstairs, then across a footbridge between this building and the larger one we were working out of. I glanced around outside - it didn’t seem the world had ended overnight and there was no sign of cats and dogs living together - before entering the larger building past a couple of guards who simply nodded at me as I entered but said nothing, making my way to the small commissary. A decent selection of food was on offer with dozens of AFFS personnel and spooks around loading up on the carbs for what promised to be a big day.
“Smith” a voice called, and I turned to see Ardan Sortek wave a mug of coffee at me as he moved past with a tray of food in the other hand. The man looked disgustingly fresh and alert even though I strongly suspected he had stayed up considerably later than I. “Grab some food and join us” he ordered as he and a group of people headed into what I recognized as an officer’s mess - which had a guard standing outside.
“Yessir” I nodded and turned to grab my own tray, loading up a few things and forcing myself to exercise restraint in my choices. The last thing I wanted to do was make myself sick on today of all days. God I’d kill for vegemite, which apparently did still exist but only on one or two Lyran planets and was seemingly considered some form of bio weapon throughout the rest of human inhabited space...
Mess food on the whole I didn’t think had improved terribly much from the 21st century, but compared to dropship food? Yeah, night and ****** day. Grabbing a cup of tea as well I carefully made my way across to the door. The trooper there had either heard Ardan’s order or had standing orders about me; in either case he opened the door for me and closed it behind.
The table was easily big enough for two dozen people but was only half full, most people clustered around Ardan. Mid-ranked officers and Spooks, most of whom I recognized from last night.
I couldn’t help but feel just a little uncomfortable about that fact that I was here with them though.
The Officers Mess - which is what this had to be in effect if not in fact - was forbidden territory to lowly cadets like me (even if I wasn’t wearing cadet tabs) and I had an instinctive desire to turn around and walk right the ****** out before anyone noticed-
“Sleep well?” Ardan asked politely and I forced myself forward. Reminding myself that I held no rank as far as anyone else was concerned.
“Yes Sir” I nodded, moving to take a seat at the table. “Still not quite used to sleeping in space so it was nice to have real gravity again.”
“No-one who doesn’t live in space ever quite gets used to it” Ardan assured me, taking a sip of his coffee. “The best you can learn to do is endure it. At any rate now that we’re all here” he said, glancing around the room -and I noticed then that everyone but me had folders and paperwork, “let’s go over the game plan for today. So far, we have not had anything beyond the usual daily and activity postings from the Dragoons liaison officer...”
“Any sudden request for ‘live fire field exercises’?” I asked as I decided that this sausage was actually not half bad. “Or any admissions to the hospital - or morgue - overnight?”
Ardan blinked, then glanced at one of the officers who hurriedly swallowed his own food and shook his head.
“No no and certainly no” the DMI Captain shook his head firmly, the man looking slightly taken aback at the unexpected question.
“Any particular reason why you wanted to know John?” Ardan asked as he turned back. I shrugged a bit as I idly stirred my tea.
“If one of the Clanners was going to try call a Trial of Refusal over Jamie deciding, it’s not impossible they had it out with fists Sir” I pointed out, taking a sip of my tea and approving of the taste. “More likely you’d see a formal Mech fight and while I hope the Dragoons wouldn’t be so inconsiderate to do it in the middle of the base...”
“A fair point” Ardan muttered then glanced at another of the officers. “Make sure that one of the live-fire mesas is cleared of any scheduled activity today - just in case Wolf needs the space” he noted and the officer nodded quickly, making a notation on his noteputer. “Moving on to cover. Few other things first” Ardan continued, “I, time and Wolf permitting, have a dinner reservation with the Archduke tomorrow night. The Prince has told me to bring him fully into the loop from this point forward - but only him.”
“Into the loop?” I asked carefully, trying not to glance at the other people in the room too much. It felt weird discussing all this stuff openly, but the building had been quietly augmented with some choice counter-surveillance technology and even on this table there were a couple of what I recognized as white-noise generators that gave listening devices fits. Even the support staff in the kitchen were from an obscure wing of MIIO whose job was to fly around the Inner Sphere to provide the kind of logistics and administration support to even covert and black operations just like this one still needed.
Which I rather agreed with. If we were playing this by ‘Hunt for Red October’ rules, then I damn well wanted the cooks to be absolutely trustworthy.
“On RAT and GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG” Ardan clarified and I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that news. RAT, the code-name for the massive Federated Suns invasion of the Capellan Confederation, was still a very tightly held secret for obvious reasons even as it was moving into its final stages now - especially because of that in fact. I was sure the loyal Sandoval's had been pissed at being kept out of the loop in the original timeline - especially as they had lost nearly a dozen worlds to the Combine in this little war even as the Suns on the whole came out way ahead from the conquest of the Capellans most valuable and populated worlds...
“With the increased damage the Dragoons and Light Horse have done to the units in Galedon, the last thing we want or need is Aaron deciding to start launching offensive strikes in the ‘certainty’ that Galahad III can be turned around to support him” Ardan explained off my look, getting nods of agreement from the people around the table.
I also nodded in understanding. Of course, if Aaron Sandoval was looking for a fight with the Combine? Well he only had to wait just a little longer. Between the Jumpship theft, smashing of the DCMS on Misery and the Light Horse pyromania on DCMS logistics, the Draconis Combine hadn’t lost face so much as had acid thrown into it. And Wolf was hopefully about to throw a fist full of salt onto the bloody mess with a ‘free and frank exchange of views’ with Takashi...
At any rate, dealing with the Sandovals was a problem for Ardan later today - and hopefully if events played out right, it’d be a smooth meeting. Not for me right now. Which in turn begged the question...
“Anything I’m needed for Sir?” I asked as a thought occurred to me.
“Just to be on standby for when Wolf is finally ready to resume talking” Ardan replied after a moment before glancing up from his paperwork and putting a fork down as he directed a knowing look at me. “You have a request?”
“Well, uh, I haven't had any chance to put my Mech through more than a walk yet” I explained and at that Ardan couldn’t help but snort a brief laugh. Around the room, amusement flowed from the other officers too. Approving on the faces of those wearing Mechwarrior insignia, exasperated amusement that said ‘Bloody Mechwarriors…’ louder than any words could on everyone else's.
“By all means” Ardan waved me away with the tolerant smile of a parent telling their kid to indulge themselves. “God knows you’ve earned it. Make sure you’ve available and ready to RTB as soon as I call, but enjoy yourself.”
“Thank you Sir” I smiled as I got up, pausing to gulp the last of the tea down before exiting the room and not quite skipping out smiling as I started to make my way to a Comm terminal as Ardan and his people started going over the files Wolf’s people had sent over on their logistics needs and how they could look at trying to expedite them with the minor issue of light years to cross and few jumpships to cross it with.
Okay, so I skip out on cluelessly sitting in on a meeting about organizing jumpship logistics and get to go blow shit up with live weapons. This day is looking up!
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*
Happily it turned out there wasn’t actually that much going on firing range # 5 today thanks to the Dragoons canceling range time -and just about everything else for that matter- and I had been able to just walk on up. The range was a typical AFFS Mech ‘Gauntlet’ course a half dozen kilometers in length, although that length zig-zagged through valleys, a series of deep canyons and up to an elevated mesa. A combination of projected holographic images on cheap ‘cutouts’, data linked simulation projection into a Mech sensors and HUD and a number of more practical special effects scattered through the course did a pretty decent job at simulating a running gunfight from one end to the other that you had to fight your way through, across varied terrain.
Mechwarriors were scored on various factors on this kind of course, weightings changing depending on the class and weight of their design. Lights for example were mostly about getting through fast and surviving, with targets of opportunity providing bonus points and often a specific recon objective to get eyes on. Trooper mediums were about speed and survival, but with a much greater emphasis on being able to take out specific objectives on the way in and out. Line heavies (like mine) dropped most of the speed expectations in favor of ‘sweep and destroy’, but, also upped the enemies. If you didn’t kill enemies and move fast enough, they would start to pile up hits on you.
And Assaults?
Yeah, they were just ‘kill’ everything between here and there’. Most points were lost because simulated targets -including popup HVTs- were able to simulate disengaging from the lumbering monsters, because you took too long or because you did too much collateral damage.
I had been through a gauntlet on Sark, twice, in my Chameleon. I hadn’t made it through either time, but then the first time none of us had. That being the whole point of putting us through it that early, to give ‘Immortal Warrior’ wannabes a reality check on how difficult even simulated combat was. The second time around DD, Julie and three others had managed to stagger through, but again the rest of us had failed. Although I was proud to say I had made it further than the majority of the class, falling only at the end to a simulated Schrek some ****** had triggered because I had successfully evaded a Demolisher at point blank range in what had been blindingly obviously a trap. Which I thought was hellishly unfair; you show smarts on the field? Then the ****** NCOs running the place took it personally and sent in a death machine at precisely the point where I would have no hope to out shoot or evade it.
Well today, the game was different! I had the advantage-
Wait. That was the Hunt for Red October again damn it...stupid Marco Ramius expy got it stuck in my head!
At any rate, I did have the advantage. As inexperienced as I was, my bleeding edge Battlemech gave me the ability to pump out an awful lot of sustained firepower while both taking an impressive amount of damage and staying cool. Frankly, skill being equal I could outshoot and outlast most 3025 Assault Mechs in a slugging match and was more mobile than a good chunk of them too...
“You’re good to go” the rangemaster said as he finished his inspection of my Mech. I felt almost like a parent showing off my kid, anxious to see that he found no fault. As live weapons were used on the range (not against me, we weren't ****** Clanners!) the safety checks were stringent. The Mech already had a ‘greenflag’ (what the Techs called the fully combat ready and certification for a Battlemech) loaded into the base logistic network, but the rangemaster still insisted on a visual inspection and patching a technicians noteputer in to check the systems directly via a data port in my mechs foot.
Professionally I admired his diligence and attention to detail.
Privately, I wondered if he just wanted to gawk and poke at the Lostech toy.
He also seemed weirded out by the featureless grey paint job to the point that I did actually start to think about how I might improve on that … perhaps starting with a ‘HONK IF YOU LIKE GLAUGS’ bumper sticker?
What would be most insulting to Harmony Gold? Hmm, difficult question...
“Get on Tac-16 when you’re geared up and move to Nav Delta-Five-Zero” the rangemaster continued, snapping my attention back as he in turn jerked his head at the road that vanished into a tunnel, that rose through the face of the sheer rock wall in front of me. The gauntlet was on the other side of the ridgeline, something of a design choice to ensure stray shots didn’t get back into the base. The course itself started in a sort of open valley that narrowed into a maze of canyons that reminded me greatly of the original Mechwarrior Two intro (which I took as a good omen even if my Mech looked dangerously like a Timber Wolf) before offering either a climb to an open plateau or an Urban combat component through an abandoned firebase, depending on what the computers decided and my time.
It looked like a lot of fun.
“We’re running the Beta-Four scenario, be prepared for tracks and Mechs, mid-ranged difficulty for a heavy. You’ve already synced your TACCOMP? Good” he nodded off my own nod. “We’ll start things rolling once you get to the NAV - and keep your weapons cold until you get clearance” he added with a scowl that made me wonder if the Dragoons had been flaunting the regs?
Frankly, I doubted it, they were far too professional.
Well, for the most part anyway. I mean the Black Widows were the kind of unit you pointed towards and enemy, said ‘Hulk? Smash!’ and sat back to watch the fireworks.
But, for the most part, they were pros so I decided this guy was just a hardass.
“Got it” I acknowledged, smiling at the man. “Thanks Sarge.” Beta Four suited me just fine; mid ranged difficulty for 3025 heavies like Thunderbolts and Jaggermechs when I was running an SLDF Royal?
I resisted the urge to cackle like Dr Evil.
The slightly overweight NCO just grunted and turned back to his office with a last quizzical look at me, heading for the nearby building and the massive almost space-needle like tower that looked over the region, whose upper decks were loaded down with racks of sensors pointing in every direction to provide overwatch on all the live firing ranges on this part of the base. The man had been disinclined to move terribly fast on my unusual request of just rocking up in a Mech to request range time but had at least humored me and run my AFFS ID card.
At which point he had balked at something that came up on his screen I couldn’t see, then after a more focused glance at me, hauled himself out of his chair and gotten the ball rolling with his staff who had been preparing for a nice quiet morning off.
I’m guessing I had Ardan to thank for whatever that was about. Being on good terms with Hanse Davions pimp hand was surprising useful for cutting through red tape.
Walking over to the side of my Mech I took a last deep breath of the fresh sea air and started to ascend the chain-link ladder that led back to my Mechs cockpit. Luckily in boot the instructors made it a point (often literally by jabbing with pool cues on rope climbs) to ensure you built up enough upper body strength to be able to do this in the field where lift hoists were not available, so I made it to the cockpit with only a couple of grunts, swinging inside and slapping the prominent green button next to the hatch. With a loud rattle, the ladder retracted up into its stowage position and the hatch slid shut with a loud clunk as the NBC seal was reestablished. That done, I worked to drop into the pilot's chair and, for the first time, started to go through the full combat prep checklist for my new Mech.
First came the coolant vest hanging next to my chair, which I slipped on over my T-Shirt. Looking almost like an oversized tactical vest, the kevlar and synthetic skin contained thousands of tiny tubes through which a coolant was circulated from the life support systems to keep me cool. The whole thing seemed pretty silly to me; that Battlemech engineers couldn’t insulate the cockpit from the rest of the Mech … but my objections to the laws of conduction and radiation aside, I had no intention of my vital organs getting cooked alive. Even a cool running Mech like mine could get uncomfortable between salvos so I ensured it was snug and set, wincing slightly at the chill against my thin shirt as the liquid started to flow.
The vest, unlike almost all contemporary Inner Sphere models, also had a number of medical sensors built in to monitor my vital organs, precluding the need for additional sensors to be stuck onto my arms and legs but I still made sure that the medical feed on the secondary monitor for was showing correctly before I reached back to strap myself in with the five point harness and finally, placed my SLDF neurohelmet on my head.
God I loved how lightweight this thing was.
I then made sure my restraints were firm before finally reaching out to the main board to arm the auto-ejection system, ensure MASTER-ARM was set OFF and finally twisted the startup switch over to TACTICAL for the first time. Then after a pause and deep breath, I firmly pressed and held the ‘reactor ignition’ switch. One mississippi, two mississippi-
The entire cockpit was illuminated in a deep crimson glare.
Another of the little ‘under the hood’ things about a Royal Command Battlemech was that its on-board command computer had a huge amount of customizable options, far more than contemporary machines which simplified things as much as possible, including the security systems. Modern Battlemechs tended to do away with complicated security systems, generally just using a password on a computer console or even a simple spoken keyphrase. Both of which could be overcome by any half decent tech team in a matter of hours. Or by a trained mechjacker in a matter of minutes with the right (if admittedly rare) gear.
My ride on the other hand had a distributed security system through the main computers, including components in the reactor, weapons and command circuity like some kind of 28th century DRM. Trying to get through the security systems, while possible, would take a crack tech team days and probably require them to outright strip key components. It might be considered a little excessive by most contemporary Mechwarriors standards, but I for one had been consistently horrified by what passed for IT Security in this universe and had no intention of having my Mech stolen.
A million voices seemed to sound as one after the Mech computer parsed the neural scan from my helmet. It had taken almost two days for me fiddling with the (impressive) voice synthesizer built into the communications system to get the sound just right as I programed the system … and suddenly I wished I hadn’t.
“You … are not Saren.”
Okay, that voice was actually just a tad intimidating.
“I am John Smith” I identified myself to the computer with the correct first countersign, trusting myself that it was simply the chilly coolant moving across my chest making me shiver slightly...
“Rudimentary creature of blood and flesh, you touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding...”
Even as my Mech sneered contemptuously at me, I reached down to the keypad at my knee and tapped in the ten digit code I had selected; my old mobile number from Earth; no-one else was going to guess that. And much like Hanse Davions own two-factor authentication setup, the Mech would not prompt for that but simply proceed through the power up cycle … and then shut back down if you failed to enter it correctly at this point. The mechs scripting language was pretty simple to work out, although I had clearly surprised the hell out of the techs on Ardans dropship with how quickly I was able to pick it up.
“What is the truth of those who stand against us?”
“They exist because we allow it … and will end because we demand it” I supplied the countersign and with a rumble, the fusion reactor came to life under me once more, with status displays starting to scroll through their initial diagnostics at great speed.
“We are the vanguard of their destruction. You are assuming direct control. This exchange, is over.”
With that, the lights snapped back up to normal illumination as all the diagnostics came up green - not a very big surprise as they had come up green every time thus far.
Okay, perhaps I should come up something a little more inspiring and a little less inclined to make me think my Battlemech is a sentient Lovecraftian nightmare for a name than ‘Sovereign’?
“Reactor; Online. Sensors; Online. Weapons; Offline, Master Arm safe. All systems nominal” the much kinder voice of Betty ran through the legendary and by now infinitely familiar conformation sequence as the final systems unlocked and gave me full control. Reaching over, I quickly switched the communications channel to TAC-16 and hit the transmit switch on my right stick.
“Dagger Two, walking to Delta-Five-One” I called and after a quick look around to make sure I wasn’t about to step on anyone, I started moving out past the holding grid to the road up into the firing range, flipping on my running and forward floodlights as I entered the curving tunnel. It was a short walk of only a couple of minutes before I emerged on the far slope of the hill - which I suspected might have been the lip of an ancient extinct volcano crater. Then, my radio crackled.
“Dagger Two - be advised we just got a late starter who will be running the course with you and will be coming to join you on your run. Proceed to Delta-Five-One and hold.”
My face took on an incredulous look, glaring at my COM board in a way that made me glad that two-way video communication was generally not a thing used in the field.
****** seriously?
I finally got a chance to ‘stretch my legs’ as it were and, to paraphrase Idina Menzel; to ‘see what this killing machine can do, to test its limits and break through … anything that got in my way’. And now I was being forced to go side by side on the course? More than that, given my skill level I’d probably get shown up by some crackerjack Valkyrie pilot who stole all the kills and laughed at how damn horrible I was in such a vaunted machine. I mean, why couldn’t they just wait their turn instead of being bundled in with me?
“Dagger Two copies” I curtly replied as I followed the pre-set navigation points up and across to the starting position, the sun now at my back. The start line was ahead, with a brief sort of cutting beyond it that turned hard right into the course proper beyond. More ‘traffic lights’ glowing a hard red couldn’t be missed telling you to halt while an anti-Mech barrier raised between them made sure if you somehow did, you wouldn’t walk onto a course full of live weapons fire. Looking around on my compressed display, I spotted the tall command tower brooding over the rim of the crater, thermals showing its guest observation deck was filled with a surprisingly large number of people.
Huh. I guess news about my Lostech mech had spread quickly?
Well either that or the massive observation deck was really a rotating restaurant…
Either way, it seemed I had an audience. Damnit.
“Dagger two holding at Delta-Five One” I added as I came to a halt, putting the ‘parking brake’ on and impatiently tapping my fingers against a console edge before I thought of something … and couldn’t help but grin to myself as I turned to my communications board. Unsurprisingly, Inner Sphere soldiers had been loading music into their communications systems since before mankind had headed out into space. NAIS, knowing it was I who would get this Mech, had even been so kind as to copy my iPhone and iPads music into my Mechs computers - a gesture that touched me. They had also renamed some of the tracks for obvious reasons, but, the complete soundtracks of all three Mechwarrior Two games plus Mechwarrior Four were loaded and good to go and I quickly started to queue them up. While idly thinking about what the NAIS scientists thought about that; having what essentially amounted to an ‘official soundtrack for their universe’?
At any rate; ****** being professional for once. I had been in the Battletech universe for years now and I have never once been allowed to just go nuts with a Battlemech and shoot the ****** out of stuff with fully powered weapons.
Damnit, I had earned this! But now I’d have to frigen share with someone else...
My timing was excellent though, I had just finished sorting my playlist when my sensor board pinged a proximity alert. A new passive Mech contact was on an intercept course from my six.
Okay, that had to be my ‘partner’.
I refocused focused my compressed holographic display to a narrower rear aspect as the yellow UNKNOWN contact approached on my TACMAP. And soon enough a vague figure came into view backstopped by the cheerful ball of fusion of the ever-rising morning sun. The image processors did their best to deal with the light bloom … although I instantly wished they hadn’t.
Now, I was faced with a humanoid figure ‘slow-walking’ towards me with a rolling red ball of nuclear fire behind it. The figure was washed out; a dead black silhouette without much detail of Heavy or Assault Size and I was instantly reminded of that classic anime shot of Evangelion Unit 03 with the sun behind it walking towards the good guys with utterly implacable, unstoppable, menace.
Okay, not a polite point of comparison to start with Smith I chided myself, tapping my COMM board to accept the Lasercom handshake from the incoming-
“Well well, if it isn’t Mister John Smith getting in an early morning workout” Natasha Kerensky’s voice came through my headphones and it was only by an act of God (and fact that the parking brake was enabled) that my Mech didn’t skip forward a half dozen meters as my feet jolted into the control pedals.
-
Calm the ****** down Smith I swore at myself, closing my eyes and taking then exhaling a deep shuddering breath. I opened my eyes as she moved off the line that had her backlit, her dreaded jet-black Warhammer filling out with Dragoons and Black Widow markings. For a heart stopping second as she turned her massive weapons array seemed to line up on my rear aspect ... but no, she was just turning in a zig-zag to step up next to me on my left at the start line.
Although she had probably taken her time with that pivot just to screw with me.
Well I’m very glad I hadn’t had enough time to digest breakfast yet, otherwise I’m pretty sure I’d have to pull out for a few minutes to change my pants I thought before with another calming breath and careful clenching and unclenching of fists, I hit my microphone switch.
“Major” I greeted her in as cordial voice as I could. “I must admit … I’m a little surprised to see you here this morning. I thought you ran through the course yesterday?”
“I was running through it - and tracking to easily break all records- then at the halfway mark Cameron busted into my command loop telling me to get back to base right the hell now and nothing more” she explained, sounding rather irritated at that sequence of events - making me cringe just a little, what given that I was largely responsible for that outcome. “So, I did, thinking the Widows had set the ocean on fire or something ... but found everyone was being dragged into an emergency meeting. Apparently someone” - and that emphasis told me then and there she knew it was me - “blew the whole secret about our origins and that meant it was time to run around in circles screaming that the sky was falling or something, like a bunch of frigen Capellans just told the Chancellor was making a surprise personal inspection of their supply dump.”
… Wait, what?
“You seem to be taking events rather calmly” I observed, entirely off-put by her blithful and unperturbed attitude.
Kerensky however surprised me with her response to that as she snorted.
“What’s there to waste time worrying about? Jamie getting a good kick in the behind to get to work? He can go run around in circles if it makes him happy. I’ve got a new course record to set.”
My mouth was hanging open right now and my face locked into a rictus of bewildered, stunned astonishment.
Okay. Kerensky was acting … sensibly. Rationally. Non kill-frenzy-ish. What the hell was going-
I immediately slapped myself with a mental 2x4.
Do not ask questions Smith. Do not look closer at this Smith. Just ****** roll with it!
“Dagger Two, Widow Prime from Charlie-Charlie” the Rangemaster droned from his elevated command center as he thankfully cut into my stunned silence at that point, saving me from having to try and come up with a reply. “Go weapons hot and confirm readiness.”
“Widow Prime, weapons hot and ready to rock” Natasha responded immediately on the channel - meaning her guns were already good to go, no surprise there! Technically that was a pretty big range safety violation ... but it would take a very very brave REMF to dare and call out the Black Widow on such things.
My skin did a good job of crawling however as I realized that Kerensky had pointed a whole butload of Alpha strike at my back with live guns.
Shaking it off, I reached up to flick the safety cover off the MASTER ARM switch, pressing the button underneath.
A tiny LED switched from a dull red to a shimmering green in response.
“Master Arm - engaged. Weapons, online” Betty confirmed. A second later, there was a sudden almost anticipatory rise in the humming of my fusion reactor as my weapons started to pull low-draw power. A set of floating crosshairs also materialized, nominally showing where my guns were pointing on their various mounts. In theory I could move either arm, the chin mount or the head turret independently of the others, but in the current mode the primary ‘red’ crosshair had them slaved so that all my forward firing guns would follow it, zeroed to optimum medium laser range. A flick of my right thumb and the aim point of my arms would recalibrate and zero the PPCs to whatever target or object was under said crosshairs. The ideal being to converge all weapons impacts at the same point, something easier said than done. Ergo, my decision to stay with the guns slaved to a single aiming point. My extended torso twisting would help make up for the more limited field of fire that got me. I hoped.
“Dagger Two, good to go” I replied to the command center with as much confidence as I could pull together.
Mech Two, Mech Three, Mech Four, MWO and Living Legends … don’t fail me now I silently called upon the gaming Gods before setting my hands on the sticks, feet on the pedals and focusing myself into the combat situation.
“Dagger Two, Widow Prime, copy. Good hunting. You are go for deployment in thirty seconds from my mark … mark!”
My tactical systems -linked into the base simulation computers immediately placed a thirty second timer into my HUD which started to count backwards as well as a timer for both I and Natasha set at fifteen minutes and holding, the total time we had to get through the course or be deemed to have failed.
Or … it should have been.
Instead it was set to ten minutes. What the-
“Oh I had the rangemaster bump up the difficulty” Kerensky said cheerfully, as if she could see the expression on my face. “Beta-Four is for damn kids, we’re running a custom Alpha scenario I wrote ages ago but have never had a chance to use until outside of sim pods. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”
I felt my eyes bulging from my skull as I stared in disbelief at the war machine standing next to me. Okay, Kerensky had every reason to be cocky - by God she had earned her reputation the hard way. But seriously? What the hell did she think I-
Oh.
Ohhhhh!
…
Oh ******.
My Marauder was, being honest; not exactly subtle. A Royal Command SLDF unit with a custom refit done by NAIS? As a rule of thumb in the 3025 era where even a Bugmech made you a step above most other ground pounders; something like this monster would only be given to a Mechwarrior who had proven themselves capable of pushing it to its limits.
Because otherwise you were just wasting a very rare, nonrenewable resource.
Kerensky had probably been on her way here to shoot shit up (and her casualness aside, shooting shit up was probably the way she was going to deal with the stress from ongoing events), found out I was here and decided this was a perfect chance to get a real workout in alongside a genuine peer of a Mechwarrior...who she probably had a great many questions about given how ‘mysterious’ I was with my fuzzy position and rank.
So, um, whoops? But it wasn’t like at this point I could do anything about it.
“No problem” I lied through my teeth, biting my lip nervously as I forced myself not to take my control sticks in a death grip. Beta-Four was about gunnery practice, running through and shooting up static simulated targets dodging a token few scattered shots here and there.
‘‘Alpha’ level simulations had the enemies actually able to shoot back entirely properly, be just about as tough as they should be rather than the Battlemech equivalent of cardboard cutouts-
“Stand by to deploy in ten … nine …” the Rangemaster called out and damnit, he sounded like he was excited too! A sinking feeling started to flow through me as I realized I was about to really annoy Natasha ****** Kerensky if I screwed her second attempt to run through this thing by being unable to keep up with her…
“Stick close and do not slow me down” Kerensky added as if able to read my thoughts and I couldn’t help but cringe at the ‘cheerful serial killer’ tone before my logical, analytical mind kicked in, shoving my fear to the side to start to work through the tactical situation.
Stick to Kerensky like glue. Pour firepower into whatever she shoots at, keep her back clear … and otherwise treat her like your own personal bulldozer. She’s the lead, you’re her wingman-
“MARK” and with that, the traffic lights went green. I kicked my pedals, both sending my Mech charging forward and Mech Two Mercs ‘Trojan Horse’ blasting into my ears - before my eyes grew wide as I belatedly realized there was a three meter drop on the far side of the starting line. Kerensky landed with catlike grace, me less so, but the drive-by-wire systems and Gyro compensated flawlessly and we stomped down the short starting road before pulling into a ninety degree right turn into the range proper, exploding out the narrow cutting into the open valley beyond.
Despite me having the inside line and a Mech as fast as hers, it didn’t surprise me for a moment that Kerensky had already pulled ahead.
I took in the tactical environment in a heartbeat; we were at the top of a long slope narrowing into what seemed to be a shallow canyon of sorts directly ahead a couple of klicks distant. The entrance to said canyon -and sides of the valley we were in for that matter- were flanked with plenty of large rocks, scrub, trees and defiles, providing provide God only knows how much cover for surprises to be launched against us...
Still, even as my mind whirled … I couldn’t help but glance to the side at the black monster beside me and allow a silly grin pass my face as we screamed down the hill with almost 80’s style heavy metal guitars screaming in my ears.
I, John Smith … was running into battle alongside Natasha ****** Kerensky.
Inside a Battlemech. Inside Battletech!
The inner geek in me just couldn’t help but squee.
Her Mechs motions were flawless - probably even entirely unconsciously so. My Mech was shaking. Despite its best efforts, a Mechs Gyro could only go so far automatically to stabilizing the unit on the move - especially over rough ground at full throttle like we were. Very very experienced MechWarriors could learn how to, like breathing or walking, make continual subtle adjustments to smooth out their torso movements with their gyro and neurohelmet - what in the tabletop would be called movement modifiers vs gunnery skill I suppose. But just looking at Natasha?
Her Mechs legs were spraying dirt in every direction in a blur of motion … but her Warhammers upper body was so stable she seemed to just be floating over the ground -
“Enemy power up detected” Betty warned and I snapped my attention back to where it belonged, feeling a thrill as I saw the crimson CONTACT icons pop up on both sides of the course, just over a klick and closing fast. Month after month of training under the brutal hands and guidance of my instructors, Julie and plenty of other people came together as smoothly I swung my crosshairs over at the crimson icon on my side of the course, pulling my throttle back as I zoomed in on-
TVTropes would probably have called my reaction a ‘Flat What’. Crossing rapidly into ‘Oh Crap’...
“Contact, One O’Clock … Kit-Fox” I called over our tactical channel, not able to keep the WTF out of my voice as my T&T systems flickered then gave up, clearly getting no help from the range systems and just marking it as UNKNOWN after cycling through a couple of possibilities that were not even close.
Okay, so Natasha’s little ‘custom program’ was putting us up against ****** Clan Omnimechs?
Well, why the ****** not…who needs a technological advantage anyway? I asked myself as my hopes of leveraging my Mechs far superior technology against the expected 3025 targets just died a horrible, horrible death, my pinky toggling the voice command switch.
“Designate Unknown One as ‘Kit Fox’” I ordered Betty and with a beep, the tag updated.
“Adder over here, engaging” Kerensky confirmed, sounding highly amused by my reaction and at that she drifted left to get lateral separation as I focused in on my enemy. Downrange, the right arm carrying what could only be a Gauss rifle twitched in my direction and the training beaten into my head kicked in, causing me to jerk my Mech hard to the right and kick my pedals. Barely a second later a simulated hypersonic ball of metal whipped by at incredible speed, seeming to only barely miss slamming into my face in a blink-and-you-miss-it blur of motion.
Well, now I’m really glad I went to the bathroom well before mounting up.
Training moved my hands without me even thinking as I corrected my course and speed, bringing my aim points into line. My right thumb squeezed my right sticks top trigger and there was a shift in my arms as they calibrated for ERPPC ranges. Pulling my speed as low as I dared as I held the guns on target, I squeezed the primary trigger.
For the first time since 2781, my Mechs guns were fired in anger. To my pleasant surprise, the twin purple particle beams smashed squarely into the target center mass, right on top of what I recognized as a Jade Falcon insignia. Said simulated target - really an iron plate on tracks with a holographic overlay - reeled for a second as the range computers calculated the effects of my beams ripping into its center torso and with a highly unlikely explosion the first enemy of the day was down. My heat indicators flickered as the heat pumps in the cooling loop flushed good coolant through the weapons pods and carried the heat to the radiators, but I didn’t feel any change in my cockpit - for now anyway.
“Enemy Mech, destroyed” Betty approved of my actions and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Nice shooting - move faster!” Kerensky chided and I turned attention across to her side of the compressed display - and blinked as I saw her target long dead. A glance at the feed from the simulation computers showed its cockpit had recorded two direct and simultaneous standard PPC hits sufficient to declare the pilot dead or incapacitated with her Mech still untouched. Because of course Natasha ****** Kerensky could outshoot a unit with two Clan ERPPCs, in her Warhammer, even from outside maximum effective PPC range, without slowing down. Duh!
“Roger” was all I trusted myself to say, kicking my throttle back up to full as she backed off to let me slowly catch up, the terrain of the downward slope giving way to a thin scattering of trees on a flat valley floor. Ahead, terrain narrowed; rising ahead to our left and right and constricting our path into a sort of canyon out of this first area. Moments later, Betty warned once more of enemy power ups and over the rise at my twelve one low-slung design loomed into place, at about four hundred meters - HOLY SHIT THATS A NOVA!
I slammed my Mech to the right far more violently than I had when trying to evade the Gauss rifle, damn near causing my Mech to spin to the ground as I simultaneously chopped the throttle back. My instinctive but poorly executed evasive maneuver caused my Gyro to scream in protest almost as loud as the lock-on warning alarm and my Torso wildly rocked ensuring I had no hope in hell of using my weapons … but the desperate move paid off handsomely as a New York rave parties worth of coherent light tore through where I would have been rather than where I was. Three of the emerald beams did slash across my left arm, but without any concentration or dwell time generating the Battlemech equivalent of a flesh wound.
That could have been much, much worse. Should have been much worse. If that Alpha Strike had hit me dead on, it would have torn my Mech to pieces.
****** bullshit Clan tech I mentally snarled the ancient curse of many a Battletech player. In whatever form of the game you played from Tabletop to Mechwarrior to RPGs, ****** bullshit Clan Tech!
I brutally fought my top-heavy Battlemech, refusing to let gravity win while yelling at Betty to designate target four as a Nova.
On the plus side, the targeting systems showed the thermodynamic price the Nova paid for pressing the ‘megadeath’ button as its heat scale exploded waayyyyyyy past the ability of its cooling systems to cope with the waste heat, glowing white hot on the simulated IR readout as it worked to kick off a virtual global warming scenario on Robinson, personally. For at least the next twenty, maybe thirty seconds it would be a non-factor and I directed my attention to the other side of the field, hauling my almost stationary Mech around in a 180. A Clan Mech I recognized as a Hellbringer -a Clan take on the Warhammer in a lighter package- was busy having a free and frank exchange of views with Kerensky. Or, at least it was trying to … because Kerensky was busy drifting.
Yes, drifting.
As in Tokyo-Drift Drifting.
With a seventy ton Battlemech.
It was completely impossible of course so she did it anyway; telling Newton's first law to go ****** itself as she shifted her full throttle momentum near fifty degrees off her line of advance into a skidding slide of sorts that left Mech feet sized skid marks in the soil under her feet. The simulated Hellbringers Alpha strike ripped wildly through where she should have been, its guns barely scoring a glancing hit with a couple of SRMs and a glancing laser hit before its simulated muscles overloaded, leaving it unable to track its opponent. Unlike me however, Kerensky had kept her guns perfectly on target the whole time through with a torso swivel.
The simulation seemed to have no programing for point defense systems so her SRMs smashed into the Hellbringers chest unabated, the cluster of detonations serving as a fine aiming point for two medium lasers to slice into followed by one of her two particle beams, the Widow clearly holding back her other big gun to manage her heat curve. Simulated armor panels went flying in every direction as the range computers projected the estimated damage, but while her withering salvo clearly staggered the bot it was also clear that it wasn’t going to be a straight kill. Even against a glass cannon like the Jade Falcons favorite heavy.
So without hesitation I snapped up my arms and opened fire.
My snapshot was perhaps a tad too hasty and I should have taken the time to aim more carefully as one PPC missed my aiming point and simply peeled armor from the targets right arm. The second particle beam however tore precisely through the shredded mess Kerensky had made of its torso and dug deep into the chewy nougat center-
“Enemy Mech, destroyed.”
You know, I’m pretty sure that, as a rule, Mechs don’t normally explode like that.
A frantic beeping in my ears however brought my attention to my situation as the Nova sluggishly, but malevolently came back to life on my compressed display. My own heat was being dissipated efficiently - firing both PPCs maxed out the cooling loop and the further you overheated the less efficient the system became, surprise surprise. While my other guns were charged, I wanted to hit hard so I slammed my Mech back into motion, wheeling back around in an evasive course to close the distance at a rapidly accelerating pace-
The simulated bot was still badly overheated, the simulation faithfully reflecting the stiff sluggishness of myoymer at its thermal limits but even so the thing opened fire with a quartet of hitscan emerald beams as my Torso twisted near automatically to prevent hard dwell penetration. Two shots were clean misses, but the fire pattern of the AI had been annoyingly competent, using a laser on each arm and two on the torso to try and bracket me. Two direct hits raked down my left arm and this time they did far more than simply burning off paint, ripping an alarming amount of protection away!
Ah. the ****** Clan ER-Medium Laser. OP, Plz Nerf Catalyst!
...
No, seriously please nerf them before I have to fight them for real!
Nothing critical was damaged though. Riding out the simulated shuddering my Gyro threw me as the Nova again blazed white on the IR readout, I swung my Mech and torso to face the Nova once again head on, halting inside medium laser range. My heat sinks were now well in the green and the enemy inside the ‘sweet spot’ of firepower overlap, so I lined up my crosshairs on the jutting knee joint, flicked open the covered safety and pulled the secondary ‘DO NOT PULL’ trigger on my left stick.
It wasn’t quite an Alpha strike. While my Mech could theoretically pull one off, it would push my units heat near to the SCRAM level and turn my cockpit into an instant inferno. However, dropping one of the ERPPCs out of the loop would reduce the stress on the cooling loops sinks just enough to make it viable so that’s what I had programed into that switch. It would still slow me down - with the myomer governors ‘stiffening’ my limbs so I wouldn’t risk damaging them by trying to run at normal speeds with them overheated - but not enough to be a problem. And if you absolutely positively had to kill every last Trashborn ****** on the planet…
Four ruby lasers converged on the Nova. My aim point was slightly off, having targeted its right knee, but the beams slashed in none the less, flaying simulated armor from its thigh- and slagging the real iron plate behind the simulation from the splatters of glowing metal spraying out of the projection. Joining them, a high frequency blast from my pulse laser unleashed, cutting through the cloud of vaporized metal to rip into the simulated skeleton of the design followed by the blowtorch of my right arm PPC bolt, the fire control system judging for whatever reason it had the better angle of the two … and ******!
The damn thing rocked back but the idiotic range computers stubbornly believed my firepower concentration wasn’t good enough to-
Then lightning whipped left to right to exactly strike my targeted point, instantly snapping the leg off and the simulated Omnimech promptly fell face forward … and exploded.
Seriously? What the hell was up with that...
“Enemy Mech, destroyed! Phase one complete, proceed to phase two” Betty approved.
“Thanks for the assist” I called as I brought my mech up to speed, the jet-black Warhammer casually walking down the slope on which the Hellbringer had been standing. Clearly that double PPC salvo had pushed her heat into the yellow zone given how brightly the radiators were glowing over her Mech’s skin, to say nothing of how her previously graceful loping had turned into a kind of stiff power walk.
Movement still looked flawless though.
“Only fair - you took part of my kill, I get to take part of yours’ Kerensky replied with an amused snort, her gait smoothing out as she dumped heat. My own heat also starting to flush from the saturated heat sinks, luckily still not high enough to have really made a different in my cockpit. Yet.
“Now keep moving and stay close kid, this next bit might get a little … fun” she warned me and with a bit of a smirk I fell into line behind her, our Mechs kicking back into a solid sort of ‘jog’ as we passed through the narrowing valley into the rocky sort of canyon entrance.
Okay, we’d just nailed four ****** Clan Omnis. Granted, with the greatest Mechwarrior in the Inner Sphere leading me through the fight, but still, I felt some measure of confidence returning now as we moved onto the next part of the course.
Bring it - wait, did she just call me kid?!
-
*
**
******
**
*
“Nav point Delta Five-Four, reached. Commence final phase. Three minutes, ten seconds, remaining.”
I barely heard Betty as I staggered out of the canyon following Kerensky, deeply regretting my decision to taunt Murphey by daring the course to ‘bring it on’. My smirk had long vanished being a rather pathetic look of pure relief as we cleared the canyon and moved back into open air.
I dared to finally take a split second to release one of the death grips on my sticks to wipe the sweat out of my eyes, breathing shallowly in the stifling air of my cockpit. My Mech’s heat was technically already falling back towards the green, but the cooling loop system was primarily about pulling heat away from the weapons, reactor and artificial muscles of my Mech. Secondary waste heat - or Ghost heat as Mechwarriors called it - tended to sink ‘deeper’, into the skeleton and air of the cockpit, taking a great deal more time to conduct to heat sinks. And much less time to conduct into my cockpit air. So, despite the best efforts of the life support systems it was still a damn sauna in here.
Of course this was a well-known issue - hence my vest - but that was just for keeping my major organs within tolerance and making sure I didn’t die, not making sure I was comfortable.
Although to be fair; not all of my sweat could be put down to excessive firing of weapons.
The previous area had been a vast network of slot canyons. Natural formations, but expanded and dug out for Mechs to run through. A network that had included dead ends, loopbacks, short tunnels and more than a few caves. It was the perfect place to run the infamous AFFS Scorpions Nest scenario as part of this Gauntlet, where Mechwarriors found themselves being mobbed by Quickiemarts staple light tank. They were a joke of a threat really, at least against Mech’s like ours … one on one.
The laughing tended to die quickly when twenty of them cornered you. One AC/5 shot connecting might earn a snort - twenty of them? Rather less funny.
Even so, especially with Natasha ****** Kerensky on point, the two of us should have -would have- bulldozed through the scenario … if it had been the Scorpions Nest scenario. These things were so fragile that no one bothered with stand in proxy targets or plates, just pure holographics simulated on our HUDs that wilted at a stern glare.
Except this wasn’t the Scorpions Nest scenario. This was a Kerensky special she called the Fire Scorpion’s Nest scenario.
Ten - a full ****** Binary!- of the Clan Quad Mechs had been lurking inside the Canyons. The first one we had run into barely after we started our run into the next section. It’s weapons loadout was pretty light - significantly lighter than mine in fact - but it had decent armor and was very stable as a firing platform.
Even as Natasha and I had torn through its rear armor with a concentrated barrage that blew its holographic ammo bins sky high and caused it to simply vanish from our path; new sensor contacts had immediately flashed on with power ups detected everywhere around us … and these wouldn’t be so kind as to give us the chance to come up behind them and shoot through their weak rear armor.
We had just awoken the nest and six or seven more red contacts started converging on us with alarming speed.
Kerensky had simply turned her Mech slightly towards me and said one word.
‘Run’.
And oh ****** did we run.
I was certain Kerensky would not stop if I fell over -which I came terrifyingly close to happening several times- and as my soundtrack advanced to Timothy Seals Cover of ‘Freedom Fight’, it really did feel like I was sprinting for my life with a hoard of killing machines galloping after me. I was also pretty much entirely relying on Kerensky, the difference between a complete n00b like me and her was never more apparent than now. Beyond the magical way she made her Mech move or her bullshit aimbot accuracy, she exactly picked our course through the highly confusing terrain without needing to slow for so much as one second. Keeping her throttle firewalled with me barely able to keep up even with 100% of my focus on keeping from tripping over and absolutely nothing left over even to monitor where the enemy was. She weaved us through the canyons on a wild roller coaster ride that got us occasional snapshots from enemy Mechs at ‘crossroads’, but only a handful of LB/X submunitions from those shots landed on my armor, scattering minimal damage. None of the heavier AC/10 shells managed to connect (thank God) and we managed to work up a decent lead over our pursuit as Natasha perfectly forced them into tail chase single file … except for the two that powered up suddenly right at the exit, stomping out of a couple of caves to physically (well, virtually I suppose) block our egress.
Or as Matrix Smith would say; ‘I’m sorry, this is a dead end’.
Because with the other seven converging after us -and Valles Clan Ghost Bear aimbot Mechwarrior nowhere to be seen- we had at best two minutes to kill them and get out of here before we got cornered and torn to pieces.
Weaving as best I could to throw off the computers aim and ignoring the autocannon shells and cluster rounds spraying over my armor causing my Gyro to throw me around in programed simulation of the impacts, I focused my firepower onto Kerensky’s target, blazing away with my arm mounted weapons. The hellish barrage of particle beams, lasers and missiles ripped into the simulated target at optimal range (or at least the ground beyond it after passing through the projection) and did enough damage that the computers declared the two forward facing weapons mounts on the design were out of action, rendering it useless.
At which point it exploded. Whatever - question for later.
Bad news however; my target was now stomping forward, clearly pissed I was ignoring it as it flung another one-two punch of autocannon munitions into me, alarms sounding as my front aspect armor started to buckle under the double tap of the UAC/10-
“Right leg - hit its right leg and MOVE!” Kerensky barked at me and my conditioned to follow orders mind obeyed, dropping my crosshairs and focus on the - wait was that my right, her right or its right no time no time!- leg and triggered my lasers, well before the heat sinks radiators could finish venting from saturation, the guns able to recharge vaster than the heat cycle could complete. The quintet of beams scathed into the moving joint and Betty scolded me that I was getting awfully close to an automatic shutdown from the heat. Real scalding heat like someone had just opened the doors of a couple of ovens blew into the cockpit - and I hissed through my teeth as I saw my salvo hadn’t done the job. At least two of the mediums, the arm mounts restricted by the sluggish myomer had shot long-
Then a quartet of medium and small lasers joined my beams from the side, slashing in with an awe-inspiring shot focus that had all four converge at the exact same point (and pass through the hologram to hit the far wall of course, but that wasn’t important). What was important was that with an entirely unimpressive holographic severing, the leg failed and the entire Quad Mech tilted wildly as it fell. Happily, its final salvo went wide as its guns were yanked off target and with its weapons unable to bare on me I staggered around after Kerensky for the exit as fast as my Mech would let me move. Proximity alarms warned me the rest of the Fire Scorpions were arriving to avenge their fellow bots and I had to resist the urge to push my mech harder - after all this was only a simulation and I didn’t want to actually damage the thing for a few KPH more speed. Fortune smiled on me however as I staggered through the exit barely a second ahead of a barrage of mixed autocannon rounds from the lead quad that figuratively blew craters all over the canyon wall instead.
“Now that's what I call a fun run!” Kerensky cackled, sounding horrifyingly like she was enjoying herself as we (or more accurately I) staggered towards the start line of the final section. I took a second to confirm I was on course before releasing my sticks to shake out my hands and then key the life support systems to break the NBC seal and vent with the outside air. Blessed cool morning sea air rushed through moments later and I tried not to wince at how wet my T-Shirt was even as I grudgingly admitted it was doing a sterling job of conducting heat away with my chilly vest. I made mental note to have a hand towel of something in easy range in the future as my attempts to use my sleeves proved less than useful to wipe down my face, reaching out to pick up a water bottle to take a gulp as my high efficiency heat sinks did sterling work radiating into Robinson, my Mechs muscles firming back up to normal movement.
And Natasha clearly wanted to be on the move.
“Come on, we only have three minutes to finish this!” she said as her Warhammer started into the climb.
“Copy” I said, holding the sigh I wanted to give but did not dare. I slotted my water back into place and sealed the life support back up, focusing on the terrain ahead and wincing. We were not being directed into the urban combat course which was a mixed blessing. Less ambush chance but now we were facing a long steady climb over rocky brown ground that provided absolutely no cover. A memory came to me then from Mechwarrior IV; the final mission of the desert campaign. A hard push up a long, long slope like this one to the primary objective; a firebase serving as a POW camp. A slope backstopped by defensive missile turrets with mobile Mech forces charging down the hill to stop us…
Of course with a firm resolve (and the Holy Gauss Rifle) I and my Lance had blasted our way up to the top. The game scenario however promised to be far less fun playing it in ‘real life’, especially as the terrain was just about as perfect as you could get for Clan extended range weapons...
“Enemy power up, detected” Betty warned right on que as the range dropped steadily and I took a hastily last swipe of the sweat on my forehead before setting myself and zooming in on the crest of the hill as we advanced up it, which showed two contacts approaching it from beyond … then emerging to skyline themselves.
“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” I groaned, my heart sinking in my chest as my optics zoomed in on the projected image facing off against me.
It was like looking into a dark mirror. The same reverse canted ‘chicken walker’ legs, hexagonal weapons pods hanging from the sleek body with secondary guns stubbing the torso. In addition however, this monster had two massive boxy missile launchers bolted onto its ‘shoulders’ just the CPLT-C1 … and despite the threat, I couldn’t help but smile wryly as my T&T system went into a perfectly canon tailspin.
Catapult. Marauder. Catapult. Marauder! CATAPULT! MARAUDER! CAT-
A quick voice command override however, gave it it’s true name.
“Seriously” I bitched over the channel. “A ****** Timber Wolf?”
Kerensky just cackled, clearly finding my insolence amusing.
I’d always preferred the Clan name but whatever you called it, the dread machine looking down at me was one the most optimized murder-death-kill machines ever built by the Clans. Even into the Dark Ages, the Prime config was something any half decent Mechwarrior would only treat with respect for the sheer optimization of firepower, weight, speed and protection it represented.
And now one was glaring down the hill at me.
For all my contempt and loathing of the Clans as a society and culture, I had absolutely zero doubts about the potency of their killing technology. This thing was the Battletech face of the Clan Invasion for a very good reason.
Kerensky on the other hand - I briefly risked a glance at her side of the hill - and saw … actually, I didn’t have a clue what that was. It was clearly either a heavy - or more likely an assault. The LRM rack looked light but there were plenty of what looked like laser mounts. Which, given BS Clan weapons ranges…
This, was going to suck.
Then my music queued over to ‘Action Pack’ from Mechwarrior IV, the confident voice of Natasha ****** Kerensky came back over the line … and suddenly the odds didn’t seem quite so bad.
“Alright” Kerensky’s voice came back, sounding almost hungry as she aligned for her attack run. “Hold your pace. I’ll move forward, draw fire then swing around for the Timber Wolf. Then we shift back on the Kingfisher. Ready? Go!” and without giving me time to do more than process the orders as I tried to remember what the ****** a Kingfisher mounted she opened fire; PPCs flashing with a thunderclap to reach out and slap into both enemy Mechs simultaneously as she accelerated away.
The damage should have been limited. Particle beams tended to start to lose coherence inside an atmosphere beyond about eight hundred meters or so, robbing them of the tight focus they needed to slice through the voodoo-magic-bullshit conductive armor plating used on modern combat vehicles. They could still hit things further out, but the rapid -and unpredictable- dissipation meant the probability of scoring a hit dropped off rapidly, ditto the damage done. And by a klick you’d just have a rapidly dispersing cloud of ionized gas that might give infantry sunburn. My ER-PPCs used some process -that generated a buttload more heat mind you- to contain the extended magnetic field that normally ‘bloomed’ from the weapons muzzle, improving focus and thus range by about a quarter … and I was only starting to come into that range now.
However Natasha ****** Kerensky was, of course, always going to Natasha ****** Kerensky and nailed both Mechs dead center with clean hits. The damage was almost incidental though, her shots serving their primary goal of pissing off the bots and causing them to focus in on the Warhammer storming up the slope towards them as I fell behind. So I brought my arms up, my targeting computer confirmed effective range and I cut loose.
Two more particle beams ripped up the slope - only missing Kerensky by about thirty meters as she floated back across in an evasive maneuver and I bit my lip painfully as I reminded myself my shots were not simulated. Passing low to the ground, the beams left arcs of grounding static electricity - the infamous ‘man made lightning’ effect - before smashing into the Timer Wolf’s ‘torso’. Half melted iron flew everywhere in a molten spray and It was enough for the simulation to throw a randomization into stability of the Mech, causing it to wobble as it tried to fire its two Large Lasers back at Widow-Prime (Mechs were a horrible, horrible gunnery platform if we were being serious about this) barely missing her as she danced along, even as its shoulder launchers vomited a near Macross level of warheads downrange.
And, as if to prove that no good deed ever goes unpunished, one of the beams that had harmlessly sliced through open air at her found downrange a convenient right torso to punch into anyway.
“Critical hit - Right Torso Heat Sink” Betty informed me helpfully as my Mech bucked and I fought to keep its power walk steady, unleashing a string of profanity that took me right back to online gaming in the 21st century given how much the word ‘Bullshit’ was involved. A rapid glance on the damage control board and I dismissed the loss for now as the heat pumps automatically rerouted around the shutdown links. I still had enough capacity to keep throwing the PPCs out with only minor heat buildup and the beam had missed my fusion reactor and gyro at that penetration angle. The rest of my torso armor was also pretty cooked from an UAC/10 and LBx/10 trying their very best to bash it in ... but now I had the Black Widow serving as my armor.
And was proving far more effect than mere Ferro-Fibrous plate.
In another Natasha ****** Kerensky bullshit moment, the Trueborn -with exquisite timing- jumped her Seventy Ton Battlemech back down the hill off a raised bit of rock she had been arcing towards, landing into a crouch and sending rock flying everywhere as her momentum was transitioned into the ground. The crazy jumping (without jump jets mind you) zig-zag move must have had her Mechs skeleton screaming in pain and betrayal, but it the rapid change of direction seemed to throw off the direct missile barrage from the Timber Wolf almost completely, with only one or two managing to splatter against her shoulder and most detonating on the ground in a failed attempt to track her. The higher arc LRMs coming over from the Kingfisher had a better chance to correct their paths as they plunged down, but those that hit still lacked any concentration to do anything useful.
Well, except the two that blew her spotlight off. Virtually of course.
Kerensky didn’t reply to the insult from the more distant Omni though, boiling out from behind the rock without delay and closing on the Timber Wolf, her torso rotating to track it as the two Mechs enchanted broadsides. Her PPCs and medium lasers slashing out to be returned with the Omnimechs ER Medium and Pulse lasers. The Warhammer’s heat signature spiked right to the levels of saturation of the heat radiators, her Mech shuddering to a sluggish walk as if in mud - but she wasn’t alone there. Even as the Clan Mech tore chunks of armor from across her Torso and legs, her firepower piled in on top of my own impacts, sending melted iron everywhere as the Omnimech started to move sluggishly from driving its heat past its limits.
“Smith! Finish it!” Kerensky demanded over the Comm.
I couldn’t help but grin tightly as I recalled one the best Battletech FMV cutscenes ever made, where an AFFC officer had said exactly that regarding another Timber Wolf.
And in ‘Panthers’ honor (one of the most ballsy Raven jockeys to ever live bar none in my opinion); I came to a halt, aimed and cut loose without hesitation, ignoring the low warning tone as my heat spiked into the yellow zone, having not quite given enough time for the heat to cycle before kicking into motion again. The particle beams were true, smashing into the torso to unleash hell inside the Mech. An instant later a burst of SRMs from Kerensky ripped into the same explosion, staggering her Mech to a crawl from the waste heat pouring out all over her.
The range computer however promptly declared the Gyro of the Omnimech was KIA and it staggered to a knee -
And blew up.
Seriously, were these things Angels from NGE cosplaying Battlemechs or something? Oh now THERE is a hilarious thought; imagine if Zeruel took a trip to Strana Mechty-
My daydreaming was rather quickly cut short however as my Mech rocked hard to the side; three or four different alarms sounding as I unexpectedly slewed to a halt. Safety configurations on the range meant that real Mechs would never be unbalanced enough (by the simulations anyway) to deliberately send a Mech falling. After all, on one hand there was making simulations realistic … and on the other, there was wasting a ****** of money by breaking very expensive war machines. Ergo, Mechs judged to have fallen over were forced to come to a sudden halt and stand for eight seconds, the minimum time a very good Mechwarrior would need to get back to their feet after taking a tumble.
The Kingfisher, I belatedly noticed, had most rudely - and surprisingly - stopped being pretending to be a stationary turret and was now stomping down and across the slopes at me, leaving its special effects iron cutout behind to go full holographic. In an ironic echo of my previous tactics of ignoring the overheated Nova, it seemed this Bot wanted to quickly rip me up while Kerensky was overheated. My tactical computer also now helpfully updated its information to confirm that its lasers were ****** Clan Pulse Bullshit and the two large and two mediums had just torn through my left Torso to sheer off my left arm, knock out a heat sink or two and unbalance me enough the computer had ruled I was, in virtual terms, lying on my back staring at the sky.
Well ****** that shit!
“Smith, you okay?” Kerensky called urgently.
Dawww, she does care!
Or cares about how long I can draw fire from her anyway. Either or.
“Tis but a scratch!” I declared as I glared at the ‘penalty box’ counter - on the plus side the enforced wait was letting my coolant loop finish discharging and as my Mech came back to life under me, I spun around and started to close in as fast as I could on the enemy Assault. A burst of missiles ripped out at me for my insolence but my insane charge seemed to have screwed the bots fire control because they mostly smashed into my ‘destroyed’ arm - doing no damage at all - with a few more crashing into my left torso - costing me another heat sink but the ‘Zombie’ nature of my Mech was really coming to the front now. “Come on then, you pansy!” I continued to yell over my open channel as with our combined closing speeds I crossed quickly into effective medium laser range rapidly and hit my Alpha strike switch. “I’ve had worse!”
Heat flooded again into my cockpit as the destroyed heat sinks were lazy bastards and refused to help, my guns tearing into the Kingfisher. My Mech also slowed to a crawl as the governors, again, restrained my limbs. The heat wasn’t too bad though, but with the loss of the heat sinks it would take longer than usual to vent. And while my barrage certainly looked impressive as it tore into the enemy Mech sending fire and shrapnel everywhere … there was no armor breach as I had clearly missed the point Kerensky had hit earlier.
Oh Crapola-
Perhaps the bot was pissed at me calling it a pansy, because it now let loose with everything it had - and I was again going to be sitting still for eight seconds. Well there goes my right arm. And why the hell did I program Betty to say ‘Critical hit’ when important things got trashed?
“Have at you then! It’s just a flesh wound!” I defied the other Mech at the ridiculousness of my situation as it prepared to deliver the killing blow with the Aidan Pryde signature ER Small Laser of Doom move … at which point it suddenly veered off to face its other opponent, apparently because I was now locked up in the eyes of its programing?
Or it was smarter than it looked and knew the Black Widow was not someone you ever turned your back on?
Either way it’s decision meant it took her salvo into the existing damage on its chest and I suspect Kerensky had scored an ammo bin from the way the back of the Mech exploded out towards me, CASE systems letting the ammo cook off.
Big mistake I grinned as I let my crosshairs focus in on the charred rear armor where the CASE system had quite literally blown off the armor plating, cutting my remaining three lasers in as I aligned, judging I had just enough spare heat capacity. I took a nanosecond to make sure it wouldn’t pass through the hologram to hit Kerensky (which was why these things rarely moved off their marks outside of these expert modes) letting the crosshair drift with the stomping target as it staggered, pulled the trigger-
The beams hit my chosen target dead on as heat spiked into my cockpit again. For a second I wondered if I had just shot up an empty chest or if the simulation system wasn’t smart enough to account for trick shooting like this ... but then with a shudder, the Kingfisher slowly fell forward to smash into the ground face first-
And exploded like all the rest.
Man it’s good that doesn’t happen in real life because the salvage teams would be out of work...
“Enemy mech; destroyed.”
“Ha! The Black Knight always triumphs!” I mocked-
“Not if you don’t make it to the finish line you don’t” Kerensky snarled at me and blinking I saw there was barely twenty seconds on the clock - and a bit under two hundred meters to go, Kerensky stomping ahead of me towards it. Whoops. And clearly I had left the communications channel open.
“Shit shit shit!” I cursed -after killing the COMM line- kicking my pedals to the floor. My Mech staggered into motion, moving like a drunken sailor slowly picking up speed as heat was bled away and the computers relaxed their iron grip. Come on come on… I mentally swore at my Mech as it slowly got over its sluggishness, mentally wishing for the Mechwarrior games coolant flush systems right about now. That two hundred meters looked like two hundred miles as step by step my speed readout slowly crawled above thirty … thirty five … forty …
Kerensky crossed the line ahead of me and her counter froze at eleven seconds, flashing green as mine continued to count down far faster than it should be.
Come on! I mentally yelled as my limbs continued to firm up and I started to break into a run, the distance and timer indicators seemingly crashing together-
“YES!” I yelled as the timer went green with just over two seconds remaining and Betty beeped that glorious triple ding.
“Nav Delta-Five-Six reached. All Primary objectives complete, gauntlet successful.”
-
“Widow Prime, Dagger two, clear gauntlet and proceed via NAV grid epison for return to training command, how copy?” The commander center then cut in / and I could swear in the background I could hear people demanding others pay up?!
“Solid Copy Charlie Charlie” I threw back before making a mental note to have Ardan send someone to download the recording of this little stroll before wiping the computer systems local records and making sure the staff knew to say nothing about it to anyone. The Clans were, after all, still rather classified, in theory.
But I wanted a ****** copy. I had just trashed a custom Natasha ****** Kerensky throwing ****** Clan Omnimechs at me scenario! HA! Take that Trashborns!
Then a second later, reality slapped me down hard as my brain caught up.
No. I had hardly faced down Clanners. I had faced down bots. Dumbass bots who were more or less unable to use their mobility, had no skill in dodging or maneuvering and were content to fight essentially as giant turrets, firing their guns as fast as possible without any concern for heat levels or evading. Letting me in turn take all the time I needed to carefully line up my shots when they immobilized themselves.
And I had still all but cosplayed the Black Knight, even with Natasha ****** Kerensky for a Lancemate and doing, bluntly, all the hard lifting. If I had faced the same scenario against even trained Inner Sphere pilots, let alone Clanners who could do even half of what Kerensky could do?
Well that’s why you don’t fight bullshit duels against Clanners but hit them with ten times their numbers in combined arms and enough artillery to make Zhukov award you an honorary Red Banner on the spot. No matter how unsporting Trashborns like Kerensky might think that is that you don’t want to play their games on their terms...
And speak of the Devil I thought as my communications link flashed and I opened it up once more.
“Well, that answers that” Kerensky noted as she regarded me walking towards the exit, falling into line behind me as I passed her.
“And what question might that be, Major?”
“You’re a complete rookie who's never been in combat before, ever. Clearly AFFS trained, but only half trained and you’ve probably never even fired the guns on that Mech of yours before today” she concluded and my ego collapsed immediately like a souffle poked with a vibrokatana.
Okay … was I that bad?
Come on John, chin up; you have one years training and you’re thinking she of all people won’t notice that? I chided myself as we stepped off the rock onto the asphalt of the access road that would lead us down the side of the hill and back to the south, around the course to the base. The view was actually quite nice, reminded me of that desert road in Forrest Gump ...
“Is this one of those ‘You do not truly know someone until you see them fight?’ things?” I asked, badly paraphrasing the Matrix while trying not to sound anything like as impressed as I was that she was apparently able to pick all that up … by simply watching me run around with her.
“After a fashion, I suppose” she verbally shrugged as her tone sharpened. “But it’s enough for me to see clearly that you are not from the Clans.”
I blinked. I blinked again.
Then I burst out laughing over the line.
“What … what … you thought I was …” and I lost it, leaning back, closing my eyes and just laughing my head off between gasps of air, my mech coming to a halt as I took my feet off the pedals and let go of the controls.
The idea was so incredibly absurd that I just couldn't help it. Snickering and snorting as I struggled to get myself under control, some vague part of me considered that this must be all my tension being let out all at once, but I couldn’t stop laughing.
Me?! A ****** Clanner? Or a ‘Tanker’ as gladiusone had aptly named them? Great insult but given that AFFS Tank crews would probably take it personally from a Mechwarrior like me, not a good idea to use it...especially against the Black widow.
Still, I didn’t know if I should feel flattered or insulted that they thought I was one. So I settled for the amusement.
“Okay, okay I’ve got to know. What idiot came up with that conclusion? What were they drinking when they did and where can I get some of it?” I demanded, shifting my Mech around to face hers - which had also stopped - before belatedly reaching out to flip the Master Arm switch back down as I realized I was facing directly at her.
“Master arm disengaged. Weapons; Offline” Betty sounded disappointed at being told to pack it up, my arms dropping in a subtle way as the power flow was cut to the myomer that made the fine adjustments to the gun mountings, having had a more than ample workout for me to be confident NAIS hadn’t missed anything when they retrofit and checked out my toy.
All in all, I was very happy at how well my Mech had performed. The watered down Clanners would have probably trashed me much earlier if I was in a standard 3025 Mech - and I had a whole new appreciation for the poor SOBs in the original timeline who had to face down the Clans with such gear.
“Well it’s … the Dragoons officers in the room with you and Sortek? They sensed quite a lot of hostility towards Jamie’s decision making, from you towards him” the Trueborn said over the radio and bless her, she actually sounded a tad abashed in response to my balls to the wall laughter at her accusation, which more than any other denial probably hammered home how hilariously wrong it was.
Oh. So I had hostility towards Battletechs greatest procrastinator not doing his ****** job and/or being the vanguard of an invasion of my nation. Had to be I was a Clanner myself! Couldn’t possibly be I was pissed at him because I didn’t want to see the Inner Sphere overrun by a bunch of diet coke Übermensch who on average see a civilians greatest value as zeroing machine gun arrays, could it?
“To say nothing of the small issue of you knowing Khan Wards final orders, which unless there has been a leak by one of a half dozen Dragoons Jamie trusts with his life, has to have come from the Clans” Kerensky added a little more pointedly and relevantly.
Eh ... that’s a fair conclusion to draw from facts in evidence I mentally gave her a pass. Not that I was going to tell her how we knew what we did of course. That was classified so dark that black holes had issued cease and desist orders against MIIO.
Even so, perhaps I could kill a couple of birds with one stone here with very careful application of the truth?
“Well on your first point” I said, trying to keep my voice professional and any amusement out of it as I pushed my Mech back into action, Kerensky trailing along behind, “my attitude towards your boss is entirely towards his complete lack of leadership over following his damn orders. Which, if say the Clans invaded tomorrow, could have genuine and horrific consequences for quite literally hundreds of billions of people and make them really regret that we may have had ten years to prepare for it and simply wasted them”
Kerensky seemed to simply take that in as it was without comment, so I shrugged and continued.
“As for your second point? I’m just an aide to Ardan Sortek” I tried to keep my tone as matter of fact as possible, eager to get the spotlight the hell off me. “And I’m his aide because I’m one of the most studied on the Clans in the Federated Suns. But” I added, feeling like I was starting to reach Obi-Wan levels of ‘from a certain point of view’, “it’s pure book learning. I am also authorized to tell you that the source for our information on the Clans was not either the Dragoons or anyone associated with them - including past associates like Snord. You can tell poor Major Blake, if he is about to start hitting the bottle, that his security was, to quote an irritated Quintus Allard, ‘tighter than the Magestrix’s corset’ - and before you ask I have no idea how he knew how tight that was ... or how tight that actually is for that matter.”
Kerensky made a ‘hmmm’ sort of noise down the line as we continued down the road back to base. I tried not to think about the fact that I didn’t technically have the authority to tell her these things, but was reasonably confident I could sell this to Ardan as a necessary step in ‘The Plan’. And Hanses paperwork to me had said quite clearly that we (plural) were to do whatever it took to get the Dragoons on-side. You could get a lot of mileage out words like ‘whatever it takes’ … and I think I had earned a little latitude even if there was probably an implied ‘talk to Sortek First’ in there.
And besides; he wasn’t out here alone in a long lonely canyon walking back to base with the Black Widow directly behind you at point blank range with real weapons!
“Okay, so next logical question, how the hell did you people know? About the Clans?” she asked and I took a second to consider my reply, content to let Kerensky keep ‘pumping me’ for information I was happy to give, even if it was misinformation, from a certain point of view.
Part of me wondered if this whole morning was all a cunning plan by Wolf to get more intel, but I doubted it. My presence on the range was a last minute thing, it seemed more likely that Kerensky after seeing me here had decided to see what she could find out about me on her own by barging into my course time.
A good reminder, if any was needed, that she wasn’t a one trick pony but had a great deal of street smarts in her head if nothing else…
“All I’m able to tell you about that is that only Katrina Steiner, Hanse Davion, Quintus Allard and Simon Johnson have the authority to approve access to that information. So even if I did know, I wouldn’t be authorized to say anything about how they got their information. If Wolf is still heading to Terra I’m sure he can take it up with either of them there.”
There was a long, long silence as she absorbed that and I focused on simply moving my Mech smoothly.
“Fair enough I suppose” she finally conceded and thank God for that before her tone sharpened again. “So, that would only leave one final question. Who are you?”
My inner Vorlon smiled at that. The rest of me was less happy.
"Irrelevant" I replied.
"I think it is" she said and this time there was an edge in her voice, clearly, she wanted all the answers. With an implied ‘you don’t want to make me angry ... you wouldn't like me when I'm angry’ in her statement.
Well tough luck. It’s not like short of opening fire she had any real way to coerce my cooperation after all. Or so I kept telling myself to keep my bladder under control.
"Also irrelevant" I replied again.
We walked along for another ten seconds or so in silence, my blunt reply seeming to have thrown Kerensky for a loop as if I was utterly indifferent to having an irritated Clanner at my back with enough weapons to level a city block -
- which wasn't true for one second mind you -
- but I also knew that I absolutely couldn't cave on this. And I think I had something of a better handle on Kerensky now. Utterly a terror to face on a Battlefield no question at all and perfectly willing to do mass destruction to protect those under her command ... but not so trigger happy as to kill without reason. And given the incredible consequences to such impulses being unleashed here? Shooting me up on an AFFS base in the middle of highly delicate negotiations with the Federated Suns and the Dragoons at their weakest point ever?
Yeah, that would end well, not. And she knew it.
"Blake has almost nothing on you" she finally said, clearly realizing the direct approach wasn't working. "In fact, all he has is that you is that you were spotted at the Triad when Davion visited in 26 hanging around with the Kell Hounds - and slapped Alessandro Steiner down like the cretin he was when he tried to poke them a little too hard.”
"I see Wolfnet still has the old boys network going strong" I observed dryly in response as we continued to stroll around the side of the course. Wolfnet, the Dragoons intelligence service was, of course, tiny in comparison to even the smallest of the Great Houses agencies with a fraction of the resources … but did have some impressive HUMNIT resources spread through the massive Inner Sphere Merc community. From those sources they got a surprisingly good amount of information about the goings on around the Sphere, probably getting the most bang for their buck by far of all the intelligence agencies.
It was still complete Bullshit of course that a Clan force could even set up something like an intelligence agency with little to no native capabilities along those lines and compete against massive entrenched players with centuries of experience ... but there you go.
But accordingly, it wasn’t terribly surprising that the only data point they had on ME was that I had stood up for Patrick Kell and the Kell Hounds that night-
“And that’s not all of it” Kerensky cut into my thoughts, her tone clinical and cool. “An ‘adjutant’ sits quietly in the background, fetches coffee when asked and otherwise takes notes and keeps his mouth shut. Sortek was perfectly happy to have you drop the ‘Clan’ bomb on us and take the Dragoons officers to task. You have been given a Battlemech from Helm, upgraded by the NAIS no doubt personally at the direction of Hanse Davion, wear an AFFS uniform with no rank to obscure your identity and yet can barely keep your Mech vertical when running at full throttle, when you’re not schmoozing with House Lords and the people around them.”
Okay, several data points then I suppose. It was mildly amusing to think that Blakes people, after looking into me, probably had more questions now than when they had started.
“Your point Major?” I asked her, trying to contain my amusement at her attitude.
“You’re not an adjutant” she observed flatly and I rolled my eyes at the accusation. No shit sherlock...
“I also adjutant” I corrected her lightly. “Who I am is irrelevant; what I am right now amounts to an adjutant to Ardan Sortek. Specifically because I am one of the closest things to an expert on the Clans that the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth have - in theory anyway.”
Who’d have thought pushing Natasha Kerensky when she was walking right behind me with an awful of guns could be so much fun?
“If I may though ... I would like to ask you a question” I dared to wrench off this line of thought and earned a snort down the line, Kerensky perhaps deciding she wasn’t going to get anything from me.
“Well it seems you already know everything, so I’m not sure what the hell you’d want to ask me, but fire away” she invited me readily. Perhaps because she thought my question in turn would show where we were deficient in our knowledge? Or giving a clue where we might have gotten it from?
It wasn’t that kind of question though and I let my Mech start to slow, easing off the throttle to drift to a stop, then turned it to face Kerensky who had also come to a halt a hundred meters away.
“You are certainly under no obligation to answer it” I continued even as I wondered if this would be what pushed her off the cliff-
“Just ask it already, I’m a big girl, I promise you” she huffed impatiently in a way that didn’t quite hide the curiosity in her voice and I shrugged. Well, in for a penny...
“Did you love Joshua Wolf? I mean, love him, love him?”
There was dead air to that somewhat poorly put question - but the channel didn’t close. Dead air that lasted thirty seconds the clock on my HUD.
On the plus side, her Warhammers abnormally long PPC barrels were not pointing at me and her SRM tubes were still closed...
“...yes. I did love him” she eventually responded, her tone not quite flat. More … neutral perhaps? As if she was keeping a ferociously tight grip on her emotions. And I decided to give her an out there.
“Then, for whatever it might be worth Major…” I said carefully, “even though I know it was a while ago, you have my condolences for your loss.”
“...thank you” Kerensky said with a background noise on the channel that sounded like her taking a deep breath to calm herself but with a faint edge of surprise in her tone. “I think you’re the first person outside of the Dragoons to even bother to say as much in fact. But … why the hell did you want to know?”
She didn’t need to explain what the ‘why’ was.
“Everything I’ve read about Clan society tells me that even the very concept of love is considered Taboo by Trueborns” I said, sighing and leaning back in my chair as much as I could with the restrained firmly in place as we walked along, now starting to slowly climb back to the point my map showed was an intersection, a short walk from which would be the tunnel back to the base. “Kerensky’s son seems to have put enormous effort into breaking down social norms to build his new ‘master race’” I was sure I couldn’t keep the hints of contempt out of my voice and I was sure I honestly didn’t care if she heard them. “Anthropologists brought in by MIIO are almost of the unanimous opinion that the Clans are simply too alien to even think of as human anymore in truth, in terms of them being able to relate to 99.99% of mankind...”
“And what do you think?” she asked me after a few seconds. The tone was almost alien and I didn’t know what exactly to make of it, but...
I couldn’t help but wonder what weight she put on my opinion, but … let’s see where this goes.
“I think you proved that underneath all the bullshit pretense, a Trueborn is just as human as anyone else. And if you, one of the greatest Mechwarriors to come out of the whole breeding silliness can fall in love and hurt so much when it was ripped away from you by those ****** Anton and ComStar? That you can make the leap to see that there is so much more to life than the artificial box Nicholas tried to slam down around his society? Then it is probably inevitable that if and when the Clans return to the Inner Sphere, the sheer overwhelming population and cultural differences will, in the long run, overwhelm them.”
Micronion culture for the win! Isn’t that right officers pod?
“Nav Epsilon three, reached” Betty said, which I took as as yes. Good girl!
Oddly, Kerensky was silent to that and I wasn’t sure how she was taking it-
“What” she asked in a slow, disturbingly careful terrifyingly precise way “do you mean by ‘Anton and ComStar?'”
I blinked. I blinked again. Then the color drained from my face and I took a hand off one of my sticks to violently facepalm as it suddenly hit me what I said.
Oh ******.
Excellent work John! My mind sneered at me. You just had to show off and get all philosophical and high concept, didn’t you?
“Kerensky…” I started to say before sighing, closing my eyes and sighing as I let my Mech once more drift to a halt. My instinctive desire to deny I had said that being dismissed on the grounds of being absurdly stupid. “Quintus is going to kill me” I observed as I let my Mech slow to a halt … then an insane thought occurred to me.
On the other hand…in for a penny? How could I turn this around a little...?
“...alright” I said as I turned around to face her Mech - and resisted the urge to take a step back as it was less than ten meters away with the Mechwarrior inside visibly glaring at me through both sets of polarized glass. “All I can offer you is information I saw on a very recent source uncovered in the last couple of years. You never heard it from me, we never had this conversation.”
“I accept those terms” she said and this time there was no denying the edge in her voice that suggested pushing her patience on this would be a bad move. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. What, do you know?”
Well, if nothing else it proves she really did love Joshua if this is the reaction I’m getting...
“As you wish” I said exhaling and wondering how loudly Quintus was going to yell at me for this. “Then, in your knowledge of the events of Antons rebellion and the assault on New Dellos, do you recall hearing the name ‘Vesar Kristofur’ at any point?”
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******
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There were, on reflection, a whole ****** [/I]of worse positions I could be in right now.
Considering that I now knew interuniversal travel to what I thought were fictional universes was possible (or at least ‘forking’ a new instance of me into one, was possible), I knew I could have ended up somewhere much, much worse.
I mean there were also better places I could end up. The Cultureverse for example (assuming I dropped into said Culture and not the Affront or something) would have been just about perfect really. But I would have also happily settled for most flavors of Star Trek....
But there were also far far more (supposedly) fictional places I could have ended up that made me go into a cold sweat just thinking about it. I mean, at least in my current position in Battletech I had every reason to be hopeful for the future and my future.
If I had, say, ended up in Westeros? Yeah, even if I wasn’t killed on the spot as a witch or demon or something, the best I could hope for would be to eek out a miserable stagnant medieval existence while trying to figure out a way to get the ****** out the way of the Ice Zombie apocalypse, gigantic civil war and all the other fun stuff that might be coming. And even that was one of the happier possibilities; if I had been thrown into say Warhammer 40K?
On balance, the fact that I was in a reality where my soul was not going to be ripped out of my body by some chaos sorcerer, bound into some horrifying nightmare of flesh and chained to Abaddon the Despoilers throne and ‘encouraged’ to tell him everything I knew about Warhammer 40K?
Yeah, ‘could be worse’ indeed.
Ergo, contextually I tried to tell myself ‘Hashtag; this is not a big deal’ on one hand (mental note, invent Twitter) … but on the other; I wasn’t in 40K and this was a fragging huge deal here and now.
The vehicles coming in were an eclectic mixture of IFVs holding the Dragoons senior officers followed by dozens of large AFFS busses borrowed for this trip with the main body of soldiers, ancillary support staff and hangers on. Only the IFVs and an honor guard of four Dragoon Mechs in the vanguard were even armed; this was not a force coming with its blood up.
Indeed, if anything, it was exactly the opposite.
Just about the entire force of the Dragoons minus the crews on their distant Jumpships, a skeleton crew on board the Hephaestus and those too sick to leave the hospital were here now. Unarmed and in dress uniforms they were not quite putting themselves collectively at our mercy, but it was near enough to make little difference. As much as yesterday Ardan and I had formally entered their part of the base under the technically unofficial yet very real rules of safe conduct, so too were the Dragoons coming to us under them now - and trusting us to honor them. Which silently spoke to the groundwork Hanse and his people had put in place with the Dragoons over the last six months - especially compared and contrasted with the Combine.
Whom I’m sure the Dragoons wouldn’t trust right now if they claimed oxygen was safe to breathe...
“Do you think he figured out yet that we grabbed those Omni’s on Barlow's End deliberately?” I muttered aside to Ardan from the second story window looking out over the makeshift parking area as the hoard of APCs and trucks neatly formed into lines and started to unload a couple of thousand people, my attention drawn to the Bandits in the lead. Hidden in plain sight - how the ****** had the Inner Sphere’s intelligence people never caught onto that? Even if you credited the Dragoons recovering every single one of the damn things they ever lost (which was bullshit of the first order) that very policy should have made every intel agency very interested in grabbing one to find out why. Or so you’d think anyway.
“Quite probably but, uh, let's not remind him?” Ardan suggested back in a sotto voice as Dragoons started to make their way inside the ground floor of the massive warehouse. Sortek was in a decent mood. Calm and prepared for this next step, but he had not been exactly happy with my liberties around Natasha Kerensky. Which wasn’t to say he was unhappy with me either.
Simply put he wasn’t exactly convinced that pointing Natasha Kerensky at Vesar Kristofur (or Kristopher Kelly or whatever he called himself these days, if he was even still alive) was going to end well. Especially with LIC and MIIO both trying to find him and capture him alive, dragging him to a nice damp cellar filled with their best interrogators to drain the former ROM head dry of everything he knew…
But he also admitted that putting Wolfnet into play who had a lot of ears to the ground in less reputable parts of the galaxy, might lead us to him.
Worst case, Kerensky killed him and she owed us one. Not an ideal outcome but not a bad one per se. Every dead hardcore toaster worshiper was a good one in my book.
Mostly though, my failure in this space had convinced me to just ****** leave the PSYOPs to the spies.
Presently, Ardan started for the rooms exit and I followed him out and through the upper story racks of cargo pallets and containers. We reached a metal staircase and descended down the side of the warhouse into the large section the Dragoons were pouring into. This middle chunk of the main floor of the massive structure was both empty and open, just a large concrete floor ideal for crowding everyone in together behind a secure perimeter with massive sectional walls to the left and right closing off the rest of the warhouse. Jamie Wolf had requested permission for the entire Dragoons to present themselves and make their decisions known and Ardan saw this as a good thing. It was very much tradition for the bigger and more professional Merc units to do have a ‘passing out’ parade like this for their new employer after all. Through most of the day the Dragoons sub-units had gathered in offices and common areas with company, battalion and then regimental discussions as they seemed to all come to a consensus … and I could only hope said consensus was the right one.
The contingency plans for the Dragoons saying ‘thanks no thanks, we’re going back to the Kerensky Cluster’ were … unpleasant. To put it mildly. But then, Wolf putting the entire Dragoons force essentially at our Mercy like this was a very good sign the Rabid Foxes would not be forced to live up to their reputation tonight.
As I followed Ardan down the metal stairway towards the warehouse floor, I couldn’t help but admire how quickly the Dragoons were assembling into formation. And I meant that literally; this wasn’t just a crowd standing around across the wide open area. Discrete groups of men and women were forming up into what I recognized as company sized units and they in turn were grouping into battalions and then larger formations that stretched along the width of the warhouse. Each headed by one of the Regimental Command Companies in the case of the line units and grouped together logically in the case of their supporting units like their training command or starship crews. The actual spacings in the groups were confusing for a moment in their randomness until it hit me like a bucket of ice water that the spacing was in fact, perfect. The empty spots were representing Dragoons who were no longer here to stand with their comrades, either dead or badly wounded. And quite a few of those who were here were clearly injured with bandages, casts, ‘moon boots’ and other advanced looking medical devices.
Yet, despite their battering; here they stood.
It was a powerful statement in of itself as we reached the warehouse floor, then we stepped up onto a makeshift sort of stage against the opposite wall from the entrance as the last of the Dragoons came through it; the senior officers themselves with the perimeter security teams closing the loading dock doors behind them.
Jamie Wolf and Natasha Kerensky were in the lead - the later for once in a dress uniform. Following them were the other four regimental commanders followed along with Major Blake from Wolfnet and the other independent and support unit commanders. Also mixed in wearing strikingly different uniforms were Cranston Snord and his daughter and as Jamie advanced past every line, every Dragoon in said line snapped to attention. As they passed the front rank, most of the officers joined their units while Jamie, Natasha and the Snords came up onto the stage, Jamie in turn stepping forward to face Ardan.
“Colonel Sortek, Mister Smith” Jamie nodded to both of us as he stepped up, his tone softly calm and his bearing professional, giving no hint about how his world had turned upside down in the last day and a bit. And I might be imagining things but I think his gaze focused on me for a heartbeat longer this time (and I wonder what Kerensky had told him?) before he shook Ardans offered hand then gestured to his side. “I believe you know Colonel Snord?”
Clearly, we weren’t even pretending that Snord wasn’t still taking orders from Jamie anymore.
“Of course” Ardan nodded and shook his offered hand. “We met on Heavy Guards trip back from Helm. I apologize I have not had the time to visit Clinton as yet, but I do plan to try the next time I’m in the Lyran Commonwealth.”
“I’ll hold you to that, we have plans for a whole new wing on 20th and 21st century popular culture what with all the music and media recovered from Hoff spiking interest” he boasted with a smile before he seemed to remember why they were here with a glance across at Jamie - whose expression was, if anything, faintly amused. “But” he added quickly, “we can discuss that later - a pleasure to meet you too Mister Smith” he nodded at me and I nodded back then hesitated as my gaze shifted past him to the redhead standing behind him.
Natasha was also studying me and I met her piercing gaze square on before I inclined my head slightly at her … and she returned the gesture. Which was good enough for now as I moved my attention back to Wolf.
“So, to continue our discussion Colonel. When we left I had asked you - and more broadly, the Dragoons, a question” Ardan started the conversation where we had left off, the thick concrete walls doing an excellent job of containing his voice and carrying it across the room.
“And I - and the Dragoons - will give you an answer” Jamie said with a nod before he took a breath and turned to face his people, his voice suddenly ramping up powerfully. “I am the Oathmaster. Trothkin new and old, Clan and Spheroid …” he paused for a second, drew a breath, “...Dragoons” he finished and there was emotion in that word. A raw sense of inclusion that shivered through the room and I guessed it’s pointed use meant that everyone had been brought into the secret, the issues worked through … and the Dragoons still stood as one.
Peer pressure was a hell of a thing - but that kind of loyalty was probably not surprising given the crucible of things like Misery. At least with good leadership anyway and happily it seemed if the Dragoons senior officers were in unity. And in cases like this, Clan rules actually acted as a break on dissension. If they did not want to play by Clan rules and wished to attempt a trial of refusal at odds of a thousand to one against or something….
“All we be bound by this conclave until they are dust and memories and beyond that until the end of all that is!”
“Seyla!” the entire crowd answered.
I didn’t join them however and following my lead, neither did Ardan. We stood as witnesses to this pseudo Clan-Council, not part of it.
Jamie nodded then stepped to the edge of the stage and lightly jumped down to the floor, slowly pacing left to the far ranks, then back all the way to the right. Finally, he nodded.
“At ease” he ordered and with an impressive crack policed combat boots were spread and stomped into the ground as the Dragons relaxed their postures … slightly.
“We have come a long way since we were founded all those decades ago. Some have walked this road with me from the beginning” he nodded at Blake as he slowly walked back to the middle of the formation, his gaze locking with his senior officers one after the other. “Others have stood with us but a short time but are no less part of us” he added with a nod at Coshasa DuKirk who returned his nod with a curt but proud one of her own. “And others … have been lost along the way” he finished, glancing somberly at the empty slots before turning back towards us, his gaze seeming to lock with Natasha for a moment, emotions flashing between them I couldn’t decipher but guessed were about the man they had both loved who had been ripped from them.
One as a brother. One as a lover. And I didn’t want to think what my little grenade lob this afternoon had done there.
“I would nonetheless trust every person in this room...” Jamie continued, climbing back up to the stage and turning to face the Dragoons, the power of his voice and bearing almost captivating as he seemed to grow in stature before me, “...with my life” he said unequivocally. “And I have asked you to trust me with your lives in turn, trust you have given me” he continued, pausing for a moment before with a deep breath, he raised his chin unflinchingly. “And I have failed that trust.”
The Iron Discipline of the Dragoons cracked at that with an immediate rumble and shifting in the ranks and highly negative sounding muttering and objections coming from the group - including his senior officers I noted - but Jamie held up a hand and the interjections stilled, an edge coming into his voice.
“I have failed because I was given orders to lead you” he said, turning his head to seemingly take in every person in the formation, unflinchingly. “Orders to protect the Inner Sphere against the false righteousness of the Crusaders. To be a shield against their long held desire to rampage across known space and destroy anything and everything that will not bend to their twisted vision of the future of humanity. To hold to the Great Fathers true vision of living what he wished his descendants to see once more. To find and accept the value of what our ancestors left behind. To understand that it must be protected from those who would seek to destroy it ... even if that threat would be found in those we once called Trothkin. And what...” he added, raising his arms up at his side as if taking in all the mass of people in front of him and inviting them to answer his coming question. “What have I done to accomplish this?” he asked.
He let his gaze sweep across his senior officers and then the ranks of battalions behind them to the very back of the formation, inviting someone -anyone- to speak up.
No-one did.
“I have done nothing” Jamie finally answered almost harshly.
No shit sherlock I didn’t say - but I had some self control and didn’t need to Ardans look from the side telling me to keep my mouth shut thank you very much!
“There was always another battle to fight and no time to think about such things. And so I failed you. I failed my Khan and worst of all I have failed the people of the Inner Sphere I was charged to defend” he finished, seemingly accepting said failures as he laid them out … before he seemed to grow almost half a meter in a moment. His eyes blazing as his voice cracked.
“But I will fail no more!”
“SEYLA!” was the shout - delivered in a very ‘SIR YES SIR!’ sort of way.
“On Misery” Jamie continued after the thunder faded, his showing a sort of distant pain, “I lost a friend. A good friend and a good man. I lost him because he saw his duty and refused to shy away from it. No matter how bitter the cost to him; he saw it through to to the end. And in my rage against House Kurita, I was fully prepared to throw all of us at the Combine and not stop until either they broke or we did - and in so doing I would have failed you all once again by not doing my duty. Accordingly…” he turned to face Ardan and straightened up. “Colonel Sortek; the Dragoons have discussed your question. And with unanimous agreement … we stand with the Inner Sphere against any Crusader invasion and stand ready to begin preparations to defend against one.”
“Seyla” the entire warehouse echoed - this time in the somber way I had expected - and I had to fight the urge to sigh in relief. Okay, one problem solved, now the other minor issue…
“You would be willing to wave a request for a front line deployment against the Draconis Combine?” Ardan asked him, the sheer gravity in his tone enough to shift the orbit of Robinson as I tried not to hold my breath as Jamie seemed to struggle for a second before exhaling and meeting Ardans gaze.
“...Yes Colonel. As of this moment I, on behalf of the Wolf’s Dragoons … withdraw that request” Jamie agreed, clearly pained by the concession yet determined to accept the bitter pill and move on.
There was only a muted reaction from the Dragoons at Wolfs request. Flashes of resigned acceptance and melancholy across their faces while others glanced away rather than the glares and explosion of protests I had expected … and no surprise. Oh the disappointment seemed universal … yet it was muted. And it occurred to me that perhaps getting everyone on board with this decision had taken up far more of yesterday than the whole Clan thing.
If so, credit to Jamie and his officers then for moving everyone past the idea that for the Dragoons to win, the Combine had to die.
So, that was good. Now, we just had to reverse that decision!
“A humbling gesture Colonel” Sortek said solemnly … before offering a slightly wry, almost apologetic look. “But that will not be necessary.”
Wolf frowned and started to open his mouth, but Ardan held up a hand to hold his objections as he continued to speak calmly, but with a sheer authority in his tone. It was a subtle shift but I thought of it as his ‘Hanse’ tone, when he seemed to be speaking on behalf of Prince Davion more than himself...
“Yesterday Colonel, you asked if we trusted you and the Dragoons to follow orders” Ardan reminded him in a deadly serious tone and I killed the urge to impulse to smirk, recalling vividly that my original reaction to that question from Jamie had all of this into motion. “However, it would be more accurate to say that the concerns of the Prince and Archon were that if we granted your request for a front line posting, that you and your Dragoons would see such a deployment as an open invitation to declare a private war against the Combine. A war that you would hold as between only yourself and the Combine and that the worlds of the Federated Suns would simply be the ground you stood upon to fight, not the ground you stood upon to defend.”
The Dragoons CO remained stoically professional in the face of Ardans mild accusations … but my eyes caught the subtle looks passing between the senior officers down below.
Perhaps I was projecting a bit here, but given that it was, you know, exactly what they ****** did in the original timeline...even if in the end it worked out neatly to House Davions advantage.
“Given what they cost you, your willingness to step back from your fight with the Combine is a powerful gesture Colonel and goes a long way to reassure me that my concerns were misplaced. So if you tell me here and now that you will stand with us against the Combine, not simply alongside us? That you will accept reinforcements if we send them and call for them if you need them, not declaring your fights private circles of equals? Or, perhaps to put it a different way … can you accept that the Federated Suns has a very long going Trial of Grievance against the Draconis Combine that you are welcome to bid yourself into? While keeping in mind that there is a future beyond this fight we need to look towards?”
Jamie seemed to subtly straighten at that half dozen inches at that, as if a terrible weight had just been lifted from his shoulders, a faint smile coming on his face and he turned to look slowly across his people - and there was an electricity in the air as he took them in, finishing with Natasha who nodded eagerly (but then that was probably her default expression when it came down to mass carnage and destruction in the air) before facing Ardan again.
“Aff, we do accept. With gratitude and my promise that your trust will not be misplaced.’
Somewhere, back on New Avalon, I could feel Hanse Davion smiling coldly before, for no apparent reason anyone around him understood, doing a ‘Just as planned’ pose...
Ardan nodded at that in a way that was almost a shallow bow. “Seyla.”
“Seyla” Wolf nodded back.
“SEYLA!” the rest of the Dragoons barked, loudly. Looking all too eager, their gazes filled with vicious, determined joy as best I could put it that suggested any Kuritan Mechwarrior who went up against them was really going to be in for it.
Ardan then turned to me and nodded and I nodded back, strolling forward, my polished bots clicking against the stage in a way that echoed through the silent warehouse and drew attention like a magnet.
I couldn’t help but be highly amused at the fact that Jamie, Kerensky and indeed the other senior officers down on the main floor all looked suddenly very much on alert at my moving forward. Amusing that I have a reputation that makes these people wary.
“Colonel Wolf” I nodded at him and he nodded back, again with that slightly on-guard edge. “Your estimates from yesterday as I recall, presuming we can expedite some shipments for you, were that the Dragoons would be able to field roughly fifty percent of your five regiments strength in about a month? With Zeta and the Home Guard units held back to defend your dependents as you rebuild? And roughly one regiments worth of combat ready Mechwarriors dispossessed?”
“Correct” he nodded very slightly at me, clearly waiting for the shoe to drop. And to be fair there was a shoe we were dropping … it was just a good one this time. “We will deploy all five line Regiments to forward planets currently undefended, moving some personnel around to put them at roughly fifty percent strength each.”
Ah, there’s that ****** Clanner pride. Should we deploy fewer units at greater strength by transferring people around and temporarily disbanding some? Or perhaps deploy half strength units alongside AFFC or allied units as a supporting force for them?
Nah!
Instead, let’s deploy each unit alone to five worlds at fifty percent strength and hope the Combine is too ****** stupid to simply concentrate and wipe us out in detail!
Gah. Clanners.
Fortunately, Hanse had a plan (cue Cylons theme) that would help deal with that small problem and several others at the same time (big ****** surprise). Seriously, some days I think that man came up with three new ways to brush his teeth every morning, each more cunning than the last...
“A tall order, half a Regiment per world to hold the line” I said with a slight tilt of my head that got no response, just a stoic look of agreement and I shrugged. “But perhaps, we can shift those odds slightly” I suggested, pulling a radio out of my pocket and lifting it to my face as I turned back to face the Northern wall of the warhouse. “This is Smith, hit it.”
There was a jolt and then a low metal rumbling, the ‘wall’ started to fold open from the middle to show the dark interior of the warehouse beyond and there was a loud gasp from the entire crowd as it revealed the terrible grinning face of an Atlas.
Not gonna lie, looking up at an Atlas grinning down at you like this … it was one of the most intimidating things I had ever seen in my life. General Kerensky himself had set down the design specs to make sure it intimidating and holy shit had he succeeded.
Although I’d be willing to bet for these people, it was less the Assault Mech itself and more the fact that it was painted in the deep black with red highlights and makings of Wolf’s Dragoons. Well that and the obvious upgrades, what with the four forward firing lasers (not an uncommon mod even if they couldn’t see right now the two aft guns were actually still in place) and the frigen Gauss Rifle in place of the Chemjet...
And the line of AS7-FC-X’s were not alone either.
Awesomes made at least thirty percent more awesome, which was about as close to perfection you could get this side of a Hellstar. An AWS-9Q by any other name still smelled awesome as did its brother variants behind it, no matter what the AFFS and LCAF wanted to call it.
Thugs carrying a secondary laser battery to replace the oversinked heat sinks that had been stripped out for use in some of the other Mechs around them, giving them a wickedly increased close range punch.
Eight upgraded Cyclops's with their impressive command and control gear fully operational ready for use by Dragoon commanders, with a dozen massive Thunder Hawks in front. And along the far wall, the STK-3F Stalkers were entirely stock; there was just not enough extra heat sinks to retrofit them. Even after taking every free floating one we had from Helm, stripping units like the Thugs down of a few and soaking up the first few months of production from Defiance?
We just didn’t have enough yet, which was a pity … and ultimately, that was also the reason the Dragoons were being given all these Battlemechs here and now. A bit over a third of Hanse Davions haul from the Helm cache.
Hanse had, predictably, refused to be sucked down into the ‘shiny new toy’ syndrome and instead carefully started to examine the logistical questions about exactly what he was going to do with his share of the loot after taking out the tech samples for NAIS … and had quickly determined he had quite a few issues to sort through.
First, the AFFS would have to find techs to be taken off the line, given access to the technology they were now going to have to maintain and find a way to train them up with what maintenance materials they had from Helm and the Helm core. That was not something that would be quick and easy. The only people in the Federated Suns who were honestly qualified to handle this technology as qualified techs were the engineers at the NAIS and, suffice to say, it was a nonstarter to even think about moving them into a tech role for line AFFS units.
Second, a lot of these weapons systems, especially the extended range weapons like Gauss rifles and advanced electronic warfare technology required extensive retraining for Mechwarriors using it if they were going to use it at all effectively.
And third, while Katrina was reforming the 4th as a political move as much as a military one and Hanse had plenty of trusted units people he could share his gear with, it was still going to be a tricky question of how exactly he best could maximize its potential and not waste it. The AFFS by the original timeline had stomped the Confederation like a Dire Wolf kicking around a first-generation Mackie. Adding a few regiments of Assault Mechs, even advanced technology ones, wouldn’t really change the strategic outcome there terribly much. Such mechs, limited in number but incredibly powerful, would best be deployed where you would get the maximum possible bang for the buck in the right concentration.
So, where was that?
Why, it was with the one force in the Inner Sphere that had the available spare Mechwarriors who were trained on using such technology of course! The one force who had techs trained and equipped to maintain them - and the only force on his strategic radar that instead of doing the curb stomping, would be on the receiving end of the best attempt of his enemies to deliver one and thus could badly use a qualitative edge to even the odds.
This has been a Hanse Davion. ‘Just as Planned ™’ presentation in Widescreen Stereo.
“As I said earlier Colonel” Ardan finally spoke up, drawing all attention back to him. “We stand alongside each other. And thus shall we stand … “he trailed off with a significant look at Wolf as he extended his hand to him, who gave a faint smile before taking it in a firm clasp.
“...until we all shall fall” Wolf finished the Clan affirmation.
“Seyla!”
This time, I couldn’t help but join in as Ardan did as well.
Mental note, buy mouthwash from the base PX tomorrow...
-
I see that you haven't corrected Natasha's overweight Warhammer. By any chance is her mech carrying a 5-ton backpack?
-
I see that you haven't corrected Natasha's overweight Warhammer. By any chance is her mech carrying a 5-ton backpack?
Those extra five tons must be the weight of her reputation.
-
This has been a Hanse Davion. ‘Just as Planned ™’ presentation in Widescreen Stereo.
😂😂😂😂😂😂
-
if he was scared of Natasha just in her Mech, wait till she stands beside him lol.
-
He did... when he and Ardan entered the Elevator...
TT
-
Considering hhis actual experience he did damn good on that run. Its not like he should expect to be the Ki Allard Liao.
-
I see that you haven't corrected Natasha's overweight Warhammer. By any chance is her mech carrying a 5-ton backpack?
Those extra five tons must be the weight of her reputation.
Yes, that's it exactly :p
But fixed.
I'm also just copying across the rough technical readouts of the retrofitted Helm cache Battlemechs if anyone is interested;
Atlas AS7-FC-X
Mass: 100 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/D-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 9,688,000 C-Bills
Battle Value: 2,240
Chassis: Foundation Type 10X
Power Plant: Vlar 300
Walking Speed: 32.4 km/h
Maximum Speed: 54.0 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Durallex Heavy Special
Armament:
1 Gauss Rifle
1 LRM-20
1 SRM-6
6 Medium Lasers
Manufacturer: Retrofit; Defiance Industries
Primary Factory: Hesperus II
Communications System: Angst Discom
Targeting and Tracking System: Angst Accuracy
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 152 points 10.00
Engine: Fusion Engine 300 19.00
Walking MP: 3
Running MP: 5
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 13(26) 3.00
Heat Sink Locations: 1 RA
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 304 19.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 31 48
Center Torso (rear) 13
L/R Torso 21 31
L/R Torso (rear) 11
L/R Arm 17 33
L/R Leg 21 42
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 Medium Lasers RA 6 2 2.00
2 Medium Lasers LA 6 2 2.00
Gauss Rifle RT 1 7 15.00
LRM-20 LT 6 5 10.00
SRM-6 LT 4 2 3.00
(R) 2 Medium Lasers CT 6 2 2.00
Gauss Rifle (24) RT - 3 3.00
@SRM-6 (15) RT - 1 1.00
@LRM-20 (18) LT - 3 3.00
@SRM-6 (15) LT - 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 16
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 10 Points: 22
3 5 6 3 0 4 0 Structure: 8
Special Abilities: SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA, LRM 1/1/1, IF 1
A refit of the venerable, feared and still in production AS7-D Atlas, the AS7-FC-X like many of the Helm retrofits is intended to
be a proof of concept upgrade path for the considerable fleet of AS7-D units in the service of the AFFS and LCAF.
One of the more common complaints about the AS7-D is that for all its reputation, it simply tries to do too much. Two of its
medium lasers fire into its rear arc which provides quite a sting for any light Mechs trying to get behind, but rob it of critical
'put-down' firepower in its front arc. Accordingly, close to forty percent of known AS7-D pilots have modified their Mech to
mount the rear firing lasers forward to the point that Defiance offers this as a pre-order option off the production line outright.
But thanks to weight savings, the AS7-FC-X can both have its cake and eat it too; with the rear firing lasers retained and two
additional lasers mounted forward.
Another common complaint is that the Mech is surprisingly anemic at long range, with only its 20-tube LRM rack to respond to
enemy Mechs and limited ammo to press an engagement. Defiance have solved this by swapping out its infamous Mech-Hunter
class twenty for a long range Gauss rifle with three tons of ammunition, while also expanding the LRM bins to a full three tons.
Combined with the unchanged SRM rack and complete rework of its cooling circuit with Freezers, this unit can both deliver a
terrifying one-two punch at range while in a brawl can throw down with the best of them.
With the inclusion of the new Tripple Strength Myoymer systems, the Atlas is even capable of keeping up with many heavies
and its two infamous Battlefists can deliver such a punch that pilots training on their new rides have been occasionally reprimanded
for being a little too eager to close with the enemy.
Finally it should be noted this design is roughly one ton under its nominal self-supporting sketeal weight of 100 tons. Defiance and
their NAIS partners were determined to install a CASE system into each side torso to channel any possible explosions, however
attempts to rework the spare systems designed for other Mechs in the allocated time were a failure. It is hoped that the Wolf
Dragoons might have better luck with their own technical support staff, but we will have to wait to see what plays out...
Cyclops CP-FC-X
Mass: 90 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Advanced Rules
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/D-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 9,548,260 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,794
Chassis: Stormvanger HV-7
Power Plant: Hermes 360
Walking Speed: 43.2 km/h
Maximum Speed: 64.8 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Defiance Recombo Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
1 Gauss Rifle
1 LRM-10
4 Medium Lasers
1 SRM-4
Manufacturer: Retrofit; Defiance Industries
Primary Factory: Hesperus II
Communications System: Olmstead 840 / With SATCOM uplink
Targeting and Tracking System: Tacticon Tracer 280 / with Tacticon B-2000 Battle Computer
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 138 points 9.00
Engine: Fusion Engine 360 33.00
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 10(20) 0.00
Gyro: Standard 4.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Ferro-Fibrous AV - 197 11.00
Armor Locations: 1 HD, 2 CT, 2 LT, 2 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA, 1 LL, 2 RL
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 29 30
Center Torso (rear) 8
L/R Torso 19 26
L/R Torso (rear) 7
L/R Arm 15 18
L/R Leg 19 24
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 Medium Lasers RA 6 2 2.00
2 Medium Lasers LA 6 2 2.00
Gauss Rifle RT 1 7 15.00
LRM-10 LT 4 2 5.00
SRM-4 LT 3 1 2.00
[USER=111830]Gauss[/USER] Rifle (16) RT - 2 2.00
@LRM-10 (12) LT - 1 1.00
@SRM-4 (25) LT - 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 15
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 7 Points: 18
4 5 5 3 0 4 0 Structure: 7
Special Abilities: SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA, IF 1
One of the most straight forward upgrades of the Helm mechs to date, the Cyclops CP-FC-X feeds into the growing love affair
the Federated Commonwealth powers hold for the Gauss rifles by swapping out the class twenty autocannon mounted on the
standard CP-10-Z and giving it a long range weapon to 'encourage' the commander in the unit to stay at range. The lower
heat draw of the weapon also helps keep the Mech cool, with upgraded Freezers in the coolant loop in the engine allowing
the unit to fire its modest full Alpha strike (often called a poor mans Atlas) without a problem.
Weight savings by using Freezers have allowed an extra two medium lasers to be mounted on the design to augment the close
range punch the less powerful Gauss rifle lost over the autocannon. Most interestingly however, the infamously thin skinned
Mech has been modestly augmented by using supplies of Ferro-Fibrous armor. Thr change in protection is only modest and
arguments even suggested replacing the two extra lasers with more armor would have been a superior option, but with time
constraints and limited supplies, it was decided to simply run with a direct tonnage swap to get the refits completed on time
and there is no doubt that, at least on paper, the increased protection should defect a few more shorts.
Still, as always, this is a Mech meant to stay back and command. With its legendary Tacticon electronics suite fully functional
- a rarity in this day and age- it is extraordinarily capable of doing so. The use of Triple Strength fibers has allowed this unit
to clock speeds on level ground of close to 90 KPH meaning that, at least in theory, it should be able to remain near the Battle,
not mixed up in it.
Awesome AWS-FX-X
Mass: 80 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/E-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 7,456,050 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,875
Chassis: Technicron Type G
Power Plant: Pitban 240
Walking Speed: 32.4 km/h
Maximum Speed: 54.0 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
4 PPCs
1 Small Laser
1 Guardian ECM Suite
Manufacturer: Retrofit; Defiance Industries
Primary Factory: Hesperus II
Communications System: Garret T19-G
Targeting and Tracking System: Dynatec 2780 with Gurdian ECM
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 122 points 8.00
Engine: Fusion Engine 240 11.50
Walking MP: 3
Running MP: 5
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 19(38) 9.00
Heat Sink Locations: 3 LT, 3 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA R: SH+UA+LA
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 247 15.50
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 25 38
Center Torso (rear) 12
L/R Torso 17 26
L/R Torso (rear) 8
L/R Arm 13 26
L/R Leg 17 34
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PPC RA 10 3 7.00
PPC LA 10 3 7.00
PPC RT 10 3 7.00
PPC LT 10 3 7.00
Guardian ECM Suite CT 0 2 1.50
Small Laser HD 1 1 0.50
Free Critical Slots: 4
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 8 Points: 19
3 4 4 4 0 4 0 Structure: 6
Special Abilities: ECM, ENE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
Based on design specs handed down from Hanse Davion personally, the AWS-FC-X is undeniably the blueprint for the future of
this design. Although no longer manufactured in the Federated Commonwealth states, legally the Federated Suns retains licenses
to the design and with the secret New Dallas core, the complete technical readouts and engineering data to restart manufacturing.
If this design is as horribly lethal on the field as expected, we may expect more production to follow shortly, or at the least
upgrades and refits of the other Awesomes still in service with the AFFS and LCAF
Staying with the tried and true simplicity of the Awesome line, the FC-X uses an absurd number of Freezers to save just enough
weight to throw a [I]forth [/I]PPC into the picture. While firing all four will strain the new coolant loop, testing has shown that
sustained firing in a 4-3 or 4-4-3 pattern is entirely possible, allowing this design to put a never ending stream of death downrange
without concern for anything as paltry as ammo expenditure. The loss of the close range battle fist does worry pilots, with only the
single token small laser to engage point blank targets with any accuracy, but given the sheer barrage power, few small units will be
able to [I]get [/I]close without dying. Augmenting its long range capabilities is the provision of a rare Star League era Guardian
ECM suite in the center torso. Capable of putting an electronic fog around the Mech and those close to it, enemies trying to return
its long range fire may find themselves in a poor state indeed and during an assault with the Awesome in support of other units,
close range specialists that hang near it will not only benefit from its cover fire, but its electronic umbrella too!
Even better, with the use of TSM technology the Awesome can now keep up with faster assaults and standard heavies, allowing
attacking units to press on with their long range support right behind them rather than falling behind.
--
Awesome AWS-FX-Y
Mass: 80 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/E-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 7,456,050 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,875
Chassis: Technicron Type G
Power Plant: Pitban 240
Walking Speed: 32.4 km/h
Maximum Speed: 54.0 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Durallex Heavy
Armament:
4 PPCs
2 Medium Lasers
Manufacturer: Retrofit; Defiance Industries
Primary Factory: Hesperus II
Communications System: Garret T19-G
Targeting and Tracking System: Dynatec 2780 with Gurdian ECM
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 122 points 8.00
Engine: Fusion Engine 240 11.50
Walking MP: 3
Running MP: 5
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 19(38) 9.00
Heat Sink Locations: 3 LT, 3 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA R: SH+UA+LA
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 247 15.50
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 25 38
Center Torso (rear) 12
L/R Torso 17 26
L/R Torso (rear) 8
L/R Arm 13 26
L/R Leg 17 34
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PPC RA 10 3 7.00
PPC LA 10 3 7.00
PPC RT 10 3 7.00
PPC LT 10 3 7.00
Medium Laser CT 3 1 1.00
Medium Laser CT 3 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 5
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 8 Points: 19
3 4 5 4 0 4 0 Structure: 6
Special Abilities: ENE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
Simply put while the AWS-FC-X is considered the future of the Awesome line, there just are not not enough advanced Star League
electronics to go around. Only twelve of the FC-X have been retrofitted and the AWS-FC-Y was designed as both an intermediate
upgrade until more electronics are produced, and, as field design downgrade if the ECM suite is destroyed in an FC-X. All FC-X
units ship with two extra medium lasers for such an occasion, dropping the electronics and small laser for a boost in close range
firepower. While still someone tokenistic, its a considerable improvement on the 8Q and FC-X and options some options in the event
of close range bugmech shenanigans ... although most pilots seem determined to simply punch and kick with their enhanced strength
in such a scenario.
Thug THG-FC-X
Mass: 80 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Advanced Rules
Era: Clan Invasion
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/X-X-E-A
Production Year: 3070
Cost: 8,684,040 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,795
Chassis: Earthwerks VOL Endo Steel
Power Plant: Pitban 320
Walking Speed: 43.2 km/h
Maximum Speed: 64.8 km/h
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Mitchell Argon w/ CASE
Armament:
2 PPCs
2 SRM-6s
6 Medium Lasers
Manufacturer: Defiance Industries Refit Facility
Primary Factory: Hesperus II
Communications System: Colmax 90
Targeting and Tracking System: TharHes Ares-5
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Endo-Steel 122 points 4.00
Internal Locations: 1 HD, 2 CT, 2 LT, 2 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA, 1 LL, 2 RL
Engine: Fusion Engine 320 22.50
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 12(24) 2.00
Gyro: Standard 4.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 247 15.50
CASE Locations: 1 LT, 1 RT 1.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 25 38
Center Torso (rear) 12
L/R Torso 17 26
L/R Torso (rear) 8
L/R Arm 13 26
L/R Leg 17 34
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
PPC RA 10 3 7.00
Medium Laser RA 3 1 1.00
PPC LA 10 3 7.00
Medium Laser LA 3 1 1.00
2 Medium Lasers RT 6 2 2.00
SRM-6 RT 4 2 3.00
2 Medium Lasers LT 6 2 2.00
SRM-6 LT 4 2 3.00
@SRM-6 (15) RT - 1 1.00
@SRM-6 (15) LT - 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 13
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 8 Points: 18
4 4 4 2 0 4 3 Structure: 6
Special Abilities: CASE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
An SLDF mainstay designed to replace the [I]Warhammer[/I], the [I]Thug[/I] never proved quite as popular as its older and lighter
cousin. It did however prove itself a powerful design in its own right, one the Succession Wars was not kind to with the bulk of
designs long destroyed and a paltry 12 of the downgraded (but still impressive) THG-10E hand built each year by Earthworks.
With a whole slew of [I]Thugs [/I]now in their hands thanks to the Helm Cache, it was unsurprising that the Federated Commonwealth
powers would look to put these back into service post haste, the 11E a highly optimized design needing little work on the face of it.
Which is of course why their first act was to rip them open and strip from each of the 72 Mechs 6 Double Heat Sinks.
Demand on Freezers being extreme with many other designs needing them for upgrade, the grossly oversinked design (no matter
that the excessive heat sinks also meant the design was a Tech's dream with the cooling circuits and radiators requiring [I]far[/I]
ess love after each mission) was chopped back. With it determined that pilots would need to make do as it was still more than enough
capacity to fire and move with its primary weapons.
This however left a large amount of torso space empty and discussions abounded at what to do with the spare volume. And in the end,
an elegently simple solution was devised by the NAIS tech team leading the Defiance Advanced Projects group to augment the
designs long known weakness of limited short range firepower; shove six Inner Sphere mainstay medium lasers in.
Simply put, at long rang the [I]Thug[/I] can plink with its PPCs almost without limit as God intended. But now at short range, anyone
who closes in thinking they can dare the two SRM launchers or hope they are out of ammo, is going to be very, [I]very [/I]rudely
surprised. Power feed modifications in the end meant two of the medium lasers were moved to sidecar positions on the arms
making the refit somewhat more complicated, but the end result retains the [I]Thugs[/I] trademark long range firepower while
augmenting it with a blistering close range barrage to finish off whatever is left over.
The combat debut of the Mech however was as it so happens not by the Federated Commonwealth Powers but by the allied unit
Snords Irregulars. A full lance of the design anchored their flank against a sweeping push by a reinforced mobile company of
[I]Dragons[/I],[I]Jenner’s[/I] and [I]Panthers[/I] of the 8th Swird of Light. While the [I]Dragons[/I] dueled with the [I]Thugs[/I]
at range on the high ground (and came off far worse in the exchange it should be noted) a company of [I]Jenner’s[/I] and
[I]Panthers[/I] tried to sweep around and surprise them at point blank range from their flank, running and jumping up to their position.
Not one of the enemy lights made it back out and taking the hint, the [I]Dragons[/I] in turn withdrew.
It is know that while this design has gained high favour, two of these Thugs have been retained for testing of an alternate design
pathway that drops several of the medium lasers to install Jump Jets to allow the Thug surprising and deadly agility and the ability
to traverse terrain normally impassable to Assault Mechs. When combined with the TSM upgrades that push it between 80 and 90
KPH on the move, the idea of this unit as a ‘heavy cavalry’ Mech is gaining great traction in some circles, even if the upgrades
proved impossible to put forward in the allocated timeframe. Testing remains ongoing.
As for the rough Mech breakdowns of who got what;
Smiths Mech
1 x MAD-2R Marauder
Split Davion
1 x DVS-2 Devastator*
8 x BLR-1Gb Battlemaster
2 x Rifleman II
7 x MAD-2R Marauder
4 x BL-6b-KNT Black Knight
3 x SHG-2F Shogun
4 x HGN-732b Highlander
6 x THG-11Eb Thug
2 x AS7-D Atlas
52 x Various Mackies (mostly 9H's or custom variants of same)
2 x CP-10-Z Cyclops
3 x TDK-7X Thunder Hawk
54 x THG-11E Thug (to THG-FC-X)
3 x DV-6Md Dervish
18 x LCT-1V Locust
Split Steiner**
12 x MON-66b Mongoose
12 x VL-2T Vulcans
8 x CRB-27 Crabs
6 x PXH-1 Phoenix Hawks
5 x FLC-4P Falcon
3 x SHG-2F Shogun
2 x HGN-732b Highlander
6 x THG-11Eb Thug
26 x AS7-D Atlas
36 x AWS-8Q Awesome
36 x LGB-7Q Longbow
10 x CP-10-Z Cyclops
15 x TDK-7X Thunder Hawk
18 x THG-11E Thug
24 x STK-3F Stalker
3 x DV-6Md Dervish
6 x PXH-1 Phoenix Hawks
18 x LCT-1V Locusts
12 x FFL-4B Firefly
Split Dragoons (from Davion Haul)***
24 x AS7-D Atlas (to AS7-FC-X Atlas)
36 x AWS-8Q Awesome (to AWS-FC-X Awesome)
12 x AWWS-8Q Awesome (to AWS-FC-Y Awesome)
24 x STK-3F Stalker
12 x Thunderhawk
8 x CP-10-Z Cyclops (to CP-FC-X Cyclops)
* Hanse lost the coin flip but after discussions about the Dragoons, it went to NAIS. Most of the single or doubles are going to NAIS for R&D work.
** Katrina is using a large chunk of these Mechs to quietly rebuild the 4th Royal Guards RCT as a shock formation, somewhat like the Davion heavy/assault guards, but with less infantry and more tank and aerospace support. The Mech force will be four reinforced battalions plus a command company. Most of the ER large lasers (and augmented Freezer production that is slowly ramping up) are going to straight out of the factory Wolfhounds to get them to their later 3050 design which Smith sung the praises of ... then test pilots sung the praises of ... then Nondi said 'was actually not bad ... for a Light Mech' which was the greatest praise of all as far as Katrina was concerned.
*** These mechs also have very odd looking artificial muscles, or so Kenneth Quo thinks on first glance. And, coincidentally, there are an awful lot of large very crates hanging around the locked up tight downstairs storage areas all saying "NAIS PROPERTY, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY-SPECIAL ACCESS ONLY" that look suspiciously like Myomer transport crates. Why exactly such a thing would be so heavily secured, well, who knows?
(And yes I am aware that by strict rules prototype TSM only doubles strength and does nothing to movement, fortunately I am in the habit of ignoring downright bizare rules like that!)
And finally, the Thugs were not the only units from Helm 'raided'. Of the Alacorn Mk VI's, 176 have been broken down for spare parts for the rest of their fleet - and about half of the Gauss rifles resulting from that have been joined with the 30-40 spares in the Cache for use in upgrades on chosen designs in limited numbers.
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Chris, you give 2 Cyclops to Davion and 10 to Lyran and after that 8 to WD from Davion ???
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No, it was 10-10. Hanse just gave 8 of his to the Dragoons to make emphatically sure that each of the Dragoons under strength units would have the best possible C3 capabilities they could have, to ensure just that much of an edge in quality to compensate for the DCMS quantity. Katrina also gave up both her share of the heat sinks from the Thugs and the first month of two worth of Freezer production from the new line on Heph II (thanks to the data from the Helm core and a few technical samples they've managed to move past the prototype DHS into true clones of the Star League versions) to retrofit the Dragoons Mechs.
And even then it wasn't enough, the poor Stalkers are all stock when they are screaming out for Freezers, but they are going to have to wait a while.
The other two Cyclops are on New Avalon by now and gathering dust as part of poor NAIS's increasing backlog of 'to be reverse engineered' (or at least their computers are).
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Ah - so the Davion list you show have already the WD mechs removed.
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Thank you Chris. A very enjoyable read. Love the idea and implementation. Keep it up, we are eagerly waiting for more.
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Soooooooo……. all this R&D going on.... what is going on at each HPG site, on each Davion and Lyran planet? Comstar ROM has to at least suspect something changed IG?
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Great story. Do you have stats for Smith Marauder?
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Great story. Do you have stats for Smith Marauder?
Basically, 2 ERPPCs, 4 MedLas, 1x LgPl (in a 360* turret), 15 DHS, Ferro armor, IIRC.
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nice update and love the mechs. I just wonder what happened to the 400 or so Von Luckner tanks
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That is one hell of a update and funny to see the widow showing up to test smith in his mech and get the feel of him outside of dropping bombs on the goons. Nice to see Jamie getting his head out of his ass and willing to now do his job.
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Considering your artillery comment in the last chapter I wonder if you could drop a Clover Spear reference in a future chapter?
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Nice run. Great story, thanks for sharing.
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The old man, days from retirement, cried in the middle of a party.
00000
He remembered joining Corean Enterprises fresh from school; brilliant, knowing he was brilliant, and dumb as a brick. He’d thought he’d spend a couple years learning the ropes and then get the plant back to Star League performance.
He’d learned better in the sixty years since then.
00000
He remembered fifty years ago; months spent digging through piles of broken parts, followed by weeks tweaking the works of a ‘black box’ set aside during the First Succession War. That unit was still the best laser lens crystallizer they had left, and finding it had made his career.
Looking at the data, he figured he could refurbish half a dozen more with three months and thirteen thousand pounds.
00000
He remembered the great shutdown of ‘91, five weeks the plant hadn’t made a mech. He’d said something stupid to old Morry, only for the grand dame to drop her coffee mug, run to the nearest terminal, and spend twenty seconds typing. The plant started working again, but Morry had a stroke minutes later and the terminal hadn’t recorded whatever she had done.
Despite weeks of debriefings, he’d been too sleep deprived to remember what he’d said to his old boss. They still lived in fear of it happening again.
00000
He remembered the day he became director of maintenance; the gold name-plaque had been placed on his new desk fifty minutes before the news arrived that First Prince Ian had died at the hands of a Kurita.
They’d produced a hundred fifty four Valkyries that year; he was proud of the fact that during the last three years it had only gone down to an average of one-fourty-nine
00000
He remembered four years ago, when Dr. Edward, a young hotshot like he’d once been, had figured out how to speed the eternal bottleneck, station 17, up enough they could catch up to the other stations. Unfortunately, the fix had a chance of wrecking the entire works, so it couldn’t be done unless they were certain or desperate. Edward wouldn’t shut up about it, so he’d had to black-ball the guy before somebody important listened to him.
Studying it now, it looked like Edward’s fix would have worked. He’d look into what the loud-mouth was doing, maybe even consider re-hiring him.
00000
He remembered five hours ago, when Hanse Davion himself had walked into a surprise meeting of the plant’s management. He’d been wearing a Santa hat, despite it being the first week of January, and had handed out three sets of memory chips labelled one through seven. Then he’d sat down at watched with a smirk while they figured out what the chips were.
The answer was everything. Specifications and manufacturing instructions for the black boxes that had originally come from Terra. Clear-text copies of the maintenance manuals that had never been decrypted of their identity-locking. A set of blueprints of the plant that was more complete than anything the old man had ever seen.
Prince Davion had left laughing at the antics some of the staff got up to.
00000
The old man, who was scheduled to retire in a few days, sat there and cried at the outskirts of a party, not sure if he was crying for his career or that of his successor, knowing only that an age was over.
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A beautiful little vignette there, Greatclub! Definitely a case of "less is more".
W.
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Couldn't imagine how would it have been for someone who spent decades keeping half arcane technology running and then at the blink of an eye everything about technology is understood and doable.
Courtesy of Hanse Davion dressed as Santa ;D
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Bleaching my eyes now....
Prefer Myndo Waterly as Krampus anyway...
TT
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The old man, days from retirement, cried in the middle of a party.
00000
The old man, who was scheduled to retire in a few days, sat there and cried at the outskirts of a party, not sure if he was crying for his career or that of his successor, knowing only that an age was over.
Very well written! Thanks for sharing!
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Hopefully the old man hires Dr Edward to take his place as the factory gets renovated. Dr Edward was the only individual thinker, and now there is tech to work with, along with safety in case Dr Edward goofs up.
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Wow just wpw
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That was a great little sidestory Greatclub.
And I hope we have soon a new chapter.
And I cant wait to see what happens to Aldo Lestrade and Allessandro Steiner.
Aldo is practically inviting the Combine invading his area with his constant screaming of "I have no soldiers here!" Doesnt he know that you dont scream FIRE in a crowded area?
And Allessandro: Now Katrina knows that the assassination attempt was not against her but against the love of her life (3rd book of the Warrior triology).
As Allessandro put it down: Either she is mad at me because she thinks I tried to assassinate her or she is mad at me for trying to kill the man she loves.
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And once again, wow.
This is, like, my fourth or fifth re-read of the whole thing.
And I still tear up when you hit the Kennedy speech.
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I ask for all of us
(https://media.giphy.com/media/D3OdaKTGlpTBC/giphy.gif)
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Your prayers have been answered: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-365#post-54602488 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-365#post-54602488)
I imagine Chris will eventually get around to posting the latest update here, but until then you'll have to satiate yourselves with the above link.
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OMG the Assault fight on Wapakoneta
… EPIC Egg smashing!
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If the Dracs pull off a significant atrocity, that'll be an excuse for the Free Worlds League to pull out of the Kapteyn Pact.
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Hi team!
Next chapter is coming along as is the interlude but as the 'big picture' of the 4th Succession War won't be seen that much (and even then will be mostly focused on the Confederation and ComStar side of things) I thought I'd put in something to cover the Combine front (at least the first half of the war). This is very much not an SI chapter but an interlude trying to be very much in the view of a historical account well after the events that took place.
I'm hoping it'll both provide some context for some of the changes and cut down on the tell-not-show that I keep drifting towards in trying to place things into bigger context in the chapters going forward. And I'll freely admit this was somewhat inspired by more of the 'timeline' sort of fics around here :)
---
The following extract is from ‘Thirty Years On - how the 4th Succession War still defines the Inner Sphere today’. Tharkard City Publishing House, 3058.
Chapter 5 - The Combine Front ; 3028-3029.
The Lyran Front.
Prelude to War.
A German translation of ‘Ragnarök’; GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG was the name given by Lyran High Command to their surprise attack against the Draconis Combine that, alongside the overwhelming invasion of the Capellan Confederation by the Federated Suns, defined the 4th Succession War launched famously by Hanse Davion with a toast to his new wife. The Norse concept of the end of days and destruction of the old word for the birth of the new, it turned out to be a very fitting name. However, recently released papers by the AFFC make it unquestionable that the original goals of the Lyran operation were vastly more conservative.
The original concept of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG seems to have very much been as a ‘support act’ to Hanse Davions plan to crush the Capellan Confederation. The primary goal being to ‘hold down’ the DCMS and success metrics would be the number of units who were fighting the LCAF and not attacking the lightly defended Federated Suns Border and, perhaps, a if a dozen worlds could be taken (or more accurately, retaken from the Combine) the operation would have done its job.
The point at which Katrina Steiner changed her mind around the intent and expected outcomes of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG is surprisingly easy to lock in; New Year’s Day 3027. With Hanse Davion having departed with his victorious Heavy Guard in tow from the ‘friendly’ war games he and Katrina had just held (if being a very good sport about Katrina Steiner shooting him out of his Battlemaster and the mostly good-natured ribbing he received in the Lyran media), the Archon had called her Generals in and had them heavily rework the original plan with far more ambitious strategic goals. Seemingly no longer content to simply be used to hold the DCMS in place; the goals now set seemed to be driven by an emphatic certainty that the LCAF was much more capable than generally thought and/or the DCMS would significantly under perform.
While it might be hard to imagine by the youth of today who see the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery as something of a bad joke barely holding the line against the Smoke Jaguars and Jade Falcons with the help of what’s left of the ComGuards, it is undeniable that in 3027 the DCMS were considered to be the first or second most powerful armed force in known human space. Since the fall of the Star League, the frontier between the Commonwealth and Combine had only shifted away from Luthien and towards Tharkad, where any reverses in that trend were but temporary setbacks that the DCMS soon corrected. The idea that the LCAF could reverse this trend so thoroughly in one go was was considered ludicrous by many staff officers, but they dutifully prepared plans for bringing supplies forward and setting up for second and third stage movements with Jumpships - as opposed to the long slugfests on a static front that would need units to be supported and rotated through that was originally anticipated.
As easy as it is to pinpoint ‘‘when’ Katrina changed her mind on GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG‘s goals, the ‘why’ is far harder to figure out and, to this day is the subject of intense speculation. Many have pointed the finger at Hanse Davion give the timing and while he surely played a part given how tightly he and Katrina worked together, it also seems highly unlikely he convinced her, having been on record in military communications as thinking the original operation was right at the limit of LCAF capabilities as late as early 3026. It seems exceedingly unlikely that Hanse Davion of all people would be eager to risk his allies (who in effect were covering for his grand offensive plan with their lives) overreaching in this first, critical test of the Federated Commonwealth. And yet records show he was equally enthusiastic in supporting Katrinas new plans and provided several key insights to streamline the logistics, showing he was just as convinced of her suddenly much higher expectations.
Other commentators have long pointed to the seemingly obvious answer of the Helm cache as the reason for the Archon and First Prince's new confidence in the LCAF, but it is hard to credit such a conclusion for any reason beyond the convenience of the timing. While it is true that Katrina's share of the haul was quite impressive on the face of it; in strategic terms it was hardly a game changer. Most of her war material after all was kept back to become the core of the 4th Royal Guards RCT, who played no part in the campaign until they were unleashed on Direron alongside the Dragons Bane in September of 3029. And while the situations with the Wolf’s Dragoons feud, Takashi Kuritas political house cleaning on Luthien, the Black Dragons poorly (or ideally depending on your point of view) timed coup attempt in January 3029 and the ‘day-0’ elimination of heir Theodore Kurita surely tilted things in the favor of the FedCom powers … these were things that could not have been banked on or anticipated with anything like enough certainty to ‘bet the farm’ as it were.
It may well be that the true reasons behind Katrina Steiners change of mind will never be known - or at least not determined for some time. But whatever the ‘why’, there can be absolutely no doubt that the staggering results of Katrina Steiners ‘aggressive rethink’ of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG stand as a matter-of-fact testament to her genius and vision.
Operation THOR
The first publicly visible Lyran moves towards war took place in 3027 when Katrina Steiner undertook Operation THOR as an extension and expansion of House Davions GALAHAD II exercises. The Combine, clearly dismissive of the threat from the Commonwealth (but not blind to dangers either) put key strategic units, Jumpships and planets on alert in response, but stood them down when it became clear that the LCAF truly was running a large war game and ‘fighting’ itself.
Perhaps helping lull the Dragon into a false sense of security was the fact that considerable operational snarls and issues were made glaringly apparent in the movement of the units behind the glossy and impressive media releases. Indeed, recently declassified MIIO papers seized on Dieron from the Dragons Roost complex suggest that the ISF and DCMS felt more amused than threatened by the LCAF attempts to match Davions sweeping theatrics. The leaked video of Lance Commander Thomas Hogarth managing somehow to mistake a golf course 100 kilometers downrange of his LZ for his dropships targeted zone -while the local Duke of Freedom was holding a charity golf day on a live vid stream- for example, seems to have been very widely shared by DCMS officers and cited as an example of ‘Lyran competence’, among a number of other, similar events.
In hindsight it would appear that the Combine had by now largely dismissed the exercises as, of all things, a sign of weakness. Which is even more striking, given that the captured documents also confirm they had correctly identified that the exercises had been building specifically to this moment; the wedding of Davion and Steiner. The ISF however were fixated on the conclusion that it was entirely defensive in nature. That while the wedding was underway on Terra, the bulk of AFFS and LCAF strategic commanders, many critical field commanders and almost every political figure of not, would be present on Terra and out of any position to respond to an attack. Ergo, having the AFFS and LCAF fully in the field on the borders like this would mean rapid responses could be made against any incursions, giving time for senior officers and leadership to return to their posts.
Or, as the unintentionally ironic briefing paper sent to DCMS Regimental commanders one week before ‘the wedding toast to end all wedding toasts’ stated;
‘... the internal security force therefore concludes that House Steiners Thor II exercises are proceeding precisely along their scheduled timelines. Public media coverage, ComStar Media coverage and HUMNIT sources confirm little to no divergence is taking place; we can expect that within 36 hours the last of units from the Wave-3 exercise will be spaceborn and moving to their jumpships, ready to ‘attack’ the final wave of planets along the Lyran frontier.
The complete lack of any alteration from the official schedule and timeline has resulted in several directly observed cases of LCAF clearly units ‘phoning in’ the results of simulated engagements to keep on their schedule and make their jumpships, resulting in often dubious exercises with little to no real training value for the more senior officers running them. This is taken as confirming evidence (seen appendix 3-6) that these ‘exercises’ are less intended to impart useful training as much as to try and intimidate the Dragon into not acting while the wedding is underway. Much as the fugu intimidates more powerful enemies by inflating itself to greater size, so too is LCAF running around our borders making much noise to discourage any adventurism during the critical weeks senior commanders will be absent to give critical strategic direction…’
The ISF never seemed to have caught onto the fact that many of the more public and high profile embarrassing incidents in THOR I were staged for the sake of known Combine spy rings (notably, Leutnant Thomas Hogarths incident was not staged but seems to have been included as a useful ‘art by accident’ outcome by LIC). Although there were genuine logistic issues that needed considerable work to straighten out, the exercise served its purpose of both proving that the logistics were possible and of pre-positioning forces and supplies inconously to their jumping off positions for next year. Even though the first Operation THOR was designed to lay the groundwork for the original GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG covering operation, it none the less served equally well in helping Katrina prepare the way for her much more impressive intentions in 3028. Hard work between the two exercises by Nondi Steiner and her staff (enriched with her sisters political capital in the Estates Generals following the stunning success of the Helm Operation) cleared up most of the rear area problems and by 3028 THOR II was ready to go in conjunction with GALAHAD III.
And so as Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner proceeded through their social events in the lead up to their wedding on Terra, broad media coverage showed the shifting of LCAF units exactly as advertised to their jump off points to ‘invade’ border systems protected by the other half of the units involved in the exercises. Then, on the morning of August 27th, commanders were ordered to open sealed orders delivered personally by fanatically loyal and vetted LIC couriers embedded in their commands. And on the 28th, one hour before the start of the wedding ceremony on Terra, Operation THOR concluded and Operation GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG commenced.
‘Death to Mercenaries’
The Draconis Combines forces on the Lyran frontier were not in the best of shape when Operation GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG kicked off.
That was not an atypical situation, historically speaking.
The Lyran border had long been seen as a lesser theater compared to the far more threatening (and glorious) Davion front in the mind of the DCMS. Accordingly it had as a rule, with the exception of Wolf’s Dragoons few other units, been the primary home of Mercenary units used in front line positions by the Combine. A very distant second in the supply chain in the best of times, now the region was pushed back even more in the desperate attempts to rebuild the massive losses of material, munitions and spare parts in Galedon thanks to the actions of the Wolf’s Dragoons and Eridani Light Horse, which also drew sharply on some of the strategic stockpiles from Dieron and Benjamin.
However to the first annoyance and then increasing rage of the DCMS units, shipments to Mercenary units continued to flow without interruption for months via the PSL chain until the Procurement Departments orders eventually fought their way through the red tape of Combine logistics to cut them off. Indeed, in a couple of cases, PSL officers attempted to order Mercenaries to return paid-for equipment, claiming its delivery had been a mistake and it had been intended for the DCMS with their equipment still on backorder, orders which were broadly ignored and of course only added to the friction. It wasn’t terribly surprising that relations between the Mercenary units and DCMS units, always ‘delicate’, started to quickly go downhill in Rasalhague as they already had across the rest of the Combine. As more and more news leaked out about the supposed war crimes and treachery of the Wolf’s Dragoons, the local populations were riled up more and more, with tension building even around units that had been in service to the Combine for a very long time.
And then came ‘Death to Mercenaries’. Broadcast via priority HPG from Terra the day before the wedding of Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner, after Takeshita Kuritas legendary confrontation with Colonel Jamie Wolf; it was like a match thrown into a puddle of high-octane fuel.
Officially of course, ‘Death to Mercenaries’ was only directed at the Wolf's Dragoons, Eridani Light Horse and Kell Hounds. Units that had been ‘...found guilty by a fair trial in absentia of one or more of the following: ‘crimes against humanity’, ‘general war crimes’ and ‘criminal actions while under contract to the Dragon’ ; making it the duty of all Combine citizens to do them harm when encountered’. With rewards for each head brought to the Coordinator … and grave punishments for failing to do so. Citing the (admittedly) highly convenient timing of the Light Horse raids while the Dragoons were sucking all mobile DCMS forces in the region down upon themselves as proof the Dragoons had betrayed the Combine long before their contract ended and grossly exaggerating the Light Horse raids to make it seem instead of simply burning down supply dumps, the Mercenaries had burned down supply dumps and a few towns and villages nearby, seemingly for the fun of it. While the Kell Hounds were flagged it seemed entirely out of spite for luring Yorinaga Kurita into a ‘dishonorable’ duel (later records in fact strongly suggest that Yorinaga had firmly objected to putting the Kell Hounds on the list but was overruled by his cousin, an argument which lead directly to taking his unit on its one-way deep raiding campaign into Federated Suns space, away from the political minefield of Luthien) and humiliating the DCMS.
Unofficially, the order rapidly moved past those rather loose standards.
Long seen by the average DCMS solider as barely a step above bandits and tolerated only because they were of some use to the Dragon, foreign Mercenary employment with the Combine had always been viewed as either the most lucrative of all markets (IF you played by the rules and knew exactly what you were doing on shorter term contracts) to get in, solve a problem and get out … or as a good way to donate your Battlemechs to the DCMS.
Although it should be noted that units made up of Combine citizens were almost entirely shielded and excluded both officially and unofficially from the consequences of Takashi’s order. In an unusual case of cognitive dissonance, such units despite being MRB registered were seen as ‘Combine Ronin’ who still loyally served the Dragon in a broad sense, but sold their sword to those Combine nobles, corporations and planets who needed a little more muscle. Not as honorable as the DCMS to be sure, but Samurai nonetheless who perhaps served a necessary function and would never dirty themselves working for enemies of the Dragon. Even so, estimates are that nearly forty percent of indigenous Mercenary units (mostly Lance and Company sized units) officially switched to being ‘House Troops’ for various planetary nobility, became integrated corporate security for megacorps or were officially added to the roles of the DCMS and absorbed into militia units to try and avoid even the taint of the word ‘Mercenary’.
For ‘true’ Inner Sphere Mercenaries who would work for the highest bidder however, the line between ‘Gaijin Mercs working for enemies of the Dragon’ and ‘Gaijin Mercs working for the Dragon’ started to grow terribly blurry as official sanction was unofficially given with a blind eye turned, to air long held contempt. Public harassment of Mercenaries on leave or in public as well as their dependents steadily ramped up across most districts, forcing many units to start restricting their presence to their bases and only leaving said bases armed - and often in Battlemechs. And while Theodore Kurita notably stepped in personally to set the regional ISF and Propaganda arms right in his district to try to cool things down (with some initial success that snapped back badly when he was killed by one of the very units decreed to die under ‘Death to Mercenaries’); it was arguably too little too late as in other parts of the Combine the situation spilled out of control.
The first Merc unit in service to the Combine that can be confirmed as being turned on by the DCMS (after the Wolf’s Dragoons of course) was McGee's Cutthroats. A veteran and decently equipped unit with a long and loyal history to the Combine (and a recent history of being cursed with incredibly bad luck), they were also stationed on Galedon itself, the centre of the storm of anti Mercenary sentiment. Despite their long and loyal service, the district being ground-zero for the Dragoons and Light Horse attacks blown up out of all proportions by the omnipresent propaganda calling for Death to (some) Mercenaries had made things uncomfortable, to say the least. In the leaderless time between Grieg Samsonov departing to oversee the destruction of the Dragoons (and then vanishing when several DEST teams came calling and found only an empty command centre) and the appointment and arrival of Kester Hsiun Chi, with said propaganda still running on autopilot, things predictably started to spiral out of control.
The catalyst for the so-called ‘Battle of Galedon’ was a mob attack on a group of Cutthroats (whose name belayed their professionalism but certainly didn’t help in the current situation) out purchasing food supplies from the same local wholesalers they had dealt with for years. Given the rising tension, all of the dozen members were armed, but were out of uniform and a four man fire team was riding shotgun on their truck. It is unclear if the mob who formed suspiciously fast were from the local ISF, directed by them or were in fact genuinely riled up citizens high on propaganda from that mornings re-release of ‘War Crimes of the Black Widow on New Mendham’ alongside the new ‘Deserters and Traitors; the Eridani Light Horse’ but in any event the mob grew with surprising speed as the Mercs were finishing loading up their supplies. Warnings to back off went unheeded and soon enough seizing convenient nearby food supplies, the mob started to throw various local fruits at the mercs as they hurried to leave. Perhaps inevitably however as the Mercs simply ignored the barrage and finished their packing quickly, a blunt object believed to be a brick or rock of some sort, struck and killed one of the soldiers (Private Julias McNeill) with a freak impact to his neck as he was getting onto the back of the truck. And seeing the Merc go down seemed to only inflame and encourage the crowd who started to switch from throwing fruit to throwing far more dangerous objects as the besieged mercs hauled the body aboard.
The Mercenaries opened fire at this point to clear their path (although to their credit, their first volley went over the heads of the civilians). While most of the crowd promptly started running (at least seven people were killed in the resulting stampede and twenty seriously injured), six young Combine citizens with far more patriotism or hyped up on too many bad DEST movies attempted to charge the mercs truck brandishing swords and were promptly shot to pieces. A moment captured on security cameras that would soon be carefully re-edited to show the courageous men charging the truck after the Mercs had gunned down dozens of civilians by the Voice of the Dragon.
Demands by the arriving local constabulary for the truck to halt were ignored and the unit left the market and sped back to their base, which was some distance outside the city. An attempt by the Galedon City Police Department to intercept and apprehend them was thwarted when a pair of rare Stinger Land-Air Mechs from the Cutthroats roared in and landed on the police roadblock being set up in their comrades path, ‘encouraging’ the police to quickly back off before escorting the troops back to their base.
Within two hours the local militia had mobilized - Galedon being a district capital had the equivalent of a Battlemech Regiment made up of militia, retired Mechwarriors and Family Mechs from noble houses available that answered the call and started to assemble, along with several regiments of militia armor and infantry which stood up and started to deploy as local media roared in outrage at the ‘filthy Mercs most criminal actions!’ Tense communications flowed back and forth between the commander of the Cutthroats and the planetary authorities, the later demanding the troops responsible be turned over to them at once for trial, ignoring the established protocols and channels for investigation through the PSL. Colonel Andrew McGee (who had remained perhaps naively confident that this was simply local hotheads and as soon as a new Warlord arrived, their long service history and the truth of events would calm things down) insisted that negotiations continue but his men, with Combine Battlemechs clearly assembling and tanks rolling towards them, disagreed. A short but violent fight resulted in the Colonel, his XO and two other officers being shot by a faction led by the now infamous Matthew Simonson, who rallied the unit behind him with sharp words about the incoming enemies and marched his forces out to face the Combine attack.
The relatively green Militia spearheads who were still on approach march in neat columns down the highway had no chance. Taken completely by surprise and having not expected that the veteran Mercs would dare strike first at the Dragon, they lost most of a regiment of infantry and armor before the survivors pulled back. The chaos brought more than enough time for the Mercs and their dependents to hurriedly load up onto their dropships before falling back in advance of the Battlemechs now racing for them in considerable disorder, boosting for orbit and making it out with zero casualties. Yet another slap in the face to the Dragon by Mercs that would be broadcast far and wide.
Before leaving, the Mercs also took the time to contact the local Class-A HPG station (note that neither the GCPD, ISF or PSL had bothered to kill the vid lines into the base for some reason!) and lodged an official MRB contract breach and break notice. Astonishingly, it took days before the Combine responded to it despite considerable prodding from the MRB - something that can mostly be put down to a great deal of buck passing. Attaching all evidence of the Combines harassment that had been carefully gathered as well as the holo-footage from the bodycams several of the Mercs had been wearing during the incident at the markets, they also paid a premium in C-Bills to have the same information forwarded to their lawyers on Galatea. Who, as it turned out, was a Wolfnet contact of Jamie Wolf (which many people suspect that Simonson also knew full well). And so even as the Cutthroats burned for their Jumpships (which had been the subject of several terse shouting matches with the Zenith point station until the flotilla captain sweetly pointed out there were many dropships full of incredibly pissed off Mercs on the way who would probably use their station and any Jumpships docked to it for target practice should they be so foolish as to try and seize them), Wolfnet along with MIIO and LIC were spreading the news as far and wide as they could.
New Warlord of Galedon, Kester Hsiun Chi, arrived on Galedon a week later. And after his investigations, he swiftly ordered the local heads of the PSL, ISF and GCPD executed before publicly berating and demoting the acting regent of Galedon for letting things spiral this far out of control - but for all his fury at the mess that had been dumped into his lap by his predecessors actions, there was now little he could do to contain the firestorm which would have long term impacts that last till this day.
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GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG Wave One.
Katrina Steiners final target list for Wave One of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG compromised twenty one systems. All of them were chosen for the singular reason that each had a line DCMS unit present. The overall plan was to strip the Combine border of mobile offensive capable units or to at least cripple them sufficiently to force them to pull back. The second wave was to then secure and sweep up the undefended worlds to consolidate a new border in the aftermath. While the third wave would concentrate new strikes against the DCMS survivors of the initial attacks and whatever planets they had pulled back onto.
The perhaps over optimistic hope was that the initial waves would, with strategic surprise and their TSM upgrades (See chapter 2; ‘Technological Superiority’ for more information), be able to prevent strategic withdrawals of most defending units. And while by in large they were not successful in this - with a few key exceptions - it is undeniable that the units who pulled out did so with considerably fewer troops evacuated than they would have hoped and expected to be able to pull out.
The systems attacked on the day of the wedding were;
Altair, Basiliano, Buckminster, Camlann, Diosd, Dyev, Gunzburg, Harvest, Hyperion, Jabuka, Kandis, Karbala, Kessel, Kirchbach, Marfik, Moritz, New Caledonia, Sabik, Volders, Weingarten Wheel.
The units assigned to the attacks included a broad mix of House and Mercenary units (the later of whom often generated impressive rage at their mere presence, which several commanders quickly turned to their advantage to goad the enemy into kill boxes). This was also the first combat test of several selected LCAF units upgraded to full Regimental Combat teams, who would be compared and contrasted against the more traditional approach of attaching supporting forces to Battlemech regiments on an as-needed basis.
Unsurprisingly, the RCT units, both commanded by people Katrina Steiner had handpicked as combined arms innovators and trained by Davion advisors, proved to be vastly superior to the ad-hoc organizations. Although it did push even Lyran Jumpship logistics to the limit and one of the key takeaways (on both sides of the FedCom) in post war analysis and future planning, was that production of much bigger combined forces transports and logistical support ships were going to be necessary to maximize jumpship throw weight as units converted to RCTs. A discussion that would lead to the peerless Colossus-II and StarBarge class ships rolling off newly upgraded production lines at Galax and Tharkad by 3041.
Most of the worlds that were attacked in Wave-1 were targeted because they had a line DCMS unit on the planet that needed to be destroyed, an objective that was broadly accomplished with every world targeted taken and their defenders at the very least driven off with considerable damage at worst, destroyed outright at best - or even switching sides in the case of several Mercenary Units (see Appendix II for all planetary battle listings).
However; three worlds were selected for an attack for specific strategic reasons beyond their line units, which will be examined in depth.
Marfik
Katrina Steiner clearly wanted to take no chances when it came to Theodore Kurita. All intelligence reports suggested that he was a far more canny and flexible commander than his father, one who had been exiled to the Legions of Vega … and had promptly taken the opportunity with both hands to first whip them into shape and then turn the dumping ground of miserable failures into a corps of troops hungry for the chance to prove themselves in battle. The ‘tainted’ Legion was allowing Theodore to step away from the rigid interpretations of Bushido that dominated Combine tactical doctrine and his troops, who had embraced him as one of their own, were learning quickly. LIC observations indicated that the Legion was experimenting with tactical doctrines most DCMS units wouldn’t ever consider, even unashamedly borrowing from AFFS and Capellan doctrine, mixed in with that of the Ryuken and Genyosha.
The thought of Theodore coming to power and reforming the entire DCMS -or even a large chunk of it- along these lines was not a happy one to Steiner and Davion. And Theodore being deployed to Marfik, one of the most front-line posts on the Steiner border, meant there could be no doubt he was a perfectly legitimate target. Indeed, much thinking after the 4th Succession War suggested he was almost too much of a target. As if his father had not simply exiled his son but was hoping by putting him there that much like Henry the Second someone would ‘rid him of his turbulent son’ without the slightest care for the future consequences of the Combine. Which would indeed be considerable.
In any event, the 2nd Donegal Guards RCT under Caesar Steiner plus another eight supporting regiments handpicked by both he and the Archon for this mission were dispatched, with the support of the Kell Hounds under Patrick Kell which had just reached Regimental size for the first time since ‘The Defection’. These units arrived via a pirate point two hours ahead of any other units jumping into the Combine and had landed uncontested, the minimal aerospace assets of the DCMS defenders in a very un-Kuritan way being carefully conserved for a better time rather than wasted in a futile but glorious interception attempt. A sign that what was being done here needed to be nipped in the bud before the entire DCMS learned that Banzai charges had gone out of style as early as 1945.
The reinforced Donegal Guards landed and Caesar Steiner (who was still a relative unknown outside of being officially promoted less than a year ago to lead the RCT and whose name screamed ‘nepotism’) immediately moved out in the fashion of the very worst kind of ‘oldschool’ Lyran General. Leaving his supporting units far behind in reserve as he moved his Mechs forward like a giant wrecking ball, straight towards the city where Theodore had bunkered down the bulk of his forces. Seemingly confident Theodore was going to sit there like a good snake and take his frontal attack head on with his, on paper, much weaker Mech force, in the best traditions of Bushido, Mech vs Mech.
Theodore Kurita of course would do no such thing and immediately re-deployed to take full advantage of the textbook Lyran tactics and the opening they gave him. Instead, he commited his Panthers and a handful of Valkyries to harass the advance on the city with their long range weapons, delaying them while the bulk of his Mech force (comprising Jenners leading bugmechs for the most part) ghosted around the Lyrans flank. Using their superior local knowledge, they moved into position to make an attack on the bulk of supporting units, lagered in their bivouac far behind the Mechs just outside the town of Gether's Jewel.
Even as Steiners Mech force -now hours away even at their best speed - continued to march for the capital city where the Legions supporting forces were digging in, Theodore’s Mechs suddenly swarmed out of the nearby Franklin forest to fall upon the undefended units and supplies that had barely even bothered to put out a picket screen. Attacking in parallel lines straight out of the AFFS textbook, it for all the world it seemed that Theodore Kurita was about to start his defense of Marfik by obliterating six regiments of infantry and a massive amount of the 2nds logistical support arm in one swift stroke.
Taking a page out of his namesakes tactics from the Battle of Pharsalus however, the shipping containers forming the makeshift outer wall of the Lyran bivouac suddenly fell open as Theodores flanking ‘cavalry charge’ moved into the killbox. An entire regiment of Von-Luckner Tanks which had been delivered to the battlefield inside said cargo containers rolled out, already having been assigned targets by their General (who had to his credit chosen to ride in a command APC at the bivouac rather than with his Mechs). Handpicked veterans to a tanker who were (secretly) to be transferred to the 4th Royal Guards after this final ‘team building exercise’, it took, on average, less than five seconds for the 455th Donegal Armored to break cover, lock their assigned targets and open fire.
Two companies worth of Mechs died instantly. Indeed, losses were no higher only because the front ranks had selflessly, bravely (and suicidally) shifted to try and charge down the tanks while their comrades skidded to a halt and tried to reverse course.
But it was far too late for that.
Sweeping up from the South of the engagement from behind rolling hills now came the Kell Hounds. Most of their Mediums had been deployed into dedicated Hunter-Killer Lances that, to the clear shock of the Combine troops, were impossibly starting to overtake the light units trying to break contact in the first combat deployment of House Davions advanced Triple Strength Myomer technology. Reacting the only way they could, the Bugmechs scattered in every direction to try and evade both the rampaging mechs that grossly outgunned them and tanks still throwing swarms of long-range-missiles at them, unit cohesion breaking down rapidly. Theodore himself was left with very few options as his distinctive Mech was quite quickly localised and pushed away from support, even as he tried to cover the withdraw before he too vanished into the treeline.
The Heir to the Dragon did make his pursuit work hard to keep up, playing out every trick he could over the next twenty four hours as he tried to disengage, including attempts to double back and ambush his pursuit, switching to hidden backroads and even starting a few forest fires but he was never quite able to lose the pack of hounds as they systematically corralled him. The remains of his forces, showing just how loyal they were to the commander who had adopted them almost his own personal Otomo, also pulled every trick they could to lure the Kell Hounds off his trail no matter the cost, but the skill, speed and firepower of the Kell Hounds steadily told as Theodore, one arc at a time, was systematically isolated from his men.
Caesar Steiner meanwhile had quickly dropped his acting and rapidly issued new orders. His Lightning Company, hoarded in the middle of the formation now broke out with impossible mobility to chase down the harassing lights, even as the bulk of Steiners force moved on the main enemy concentrations, reforming into combined arms task forces on the fly. Denied their brilliant commander, the scattered concentrations of the Legion of Vega seemed to freeze up, waiting for orders that would never come as they tied to hold their ground. They fought with a courage that few in the DCMS would ever have credited them as having but ultimately, the superior machines, skill and weight of numbers made the outcome of this battle a foregone conclusion as Steiner isolated and liquidated each enemy pocket one at a time.
Also unsurprisingly, in the end the numbers, skill, patience and mobility of the Kell Hounds had overcome Theodores courage and guile. The Heir to the Dragon made a final play for escape with his command lance, descending in a daring run through a steep canyon most maps would have flatly marked as impassable for Mechs without jump jets ... only to find Patrick Kell and most of the1st Battalion of the Kell Hounds waiting for him, having anticipated his move. Here, the duel between the two took place (see Chapter 9; The Dragon and the Hounds) and with Theodore Kurita dead, one of the primary strategic objectives of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG had been accomplished.
Buckminster
Buckminster was yet another Lyran World taken by the Draconis Combine during the Succession Wars and held despite repeated attempts to take it back. A provincial capital, it was a key nodal point for the ‘middle’ of the Lyran border, with large amounts of supplies, theater offices for the ISF, DCMS and DCA and of course, all the political power for this part of Combine space.
Accordingly, it also had a very powerful garrison in place to discourage attacks. And intimidate the population, who surprisingly remained somewhat resentful of the change in ownership even after all these years.
The Second Sword of Light, the ‘Steel Dragon’, was arguably the banner carrier of the entire Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery and one of the few elite front-line units stationed on the Steiner border. Accordingly, a ‘dream team’ built around the 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards - both upgraded to Regimental Combat Team status and given a number of additional supporting regiments to boot - were sent in to take the planet. The concentrated force proved to be too much for the Sword of Light to face head on, especially with the innovative and highly effective use of a number of blue-water units brought in specifically for this campaign by mission commander Roman Steiner, allowing him to outmaneuver the enemy and break out from his LZ with far more speed than might have been expected.
Even against such overwhelming force, the 2nd Sword proved they had earned their elite status the hard way, never panicking as they fought a carefully coordinated retreat from strongpoint to strongpoint in good order. The sheer mass against them meant that their brief stands could never be pressed to a meeting engagement lest they get pinned, but they were executed well enough to prevent the two RCTs from englobing them as they had tried several times to do before they reached the mountain redoubts that shielded the capital, where they were clearly determined to make their stand. In this phase of the battle, the lightning companies of the two units proved worth their weight in Germanium; the TSM enhanced Wolfhounds in particular earned the nickname of ‘Oni’ by the DCMS who had never seen the shockingly powerful, fast and well armored Mechs before as they continually intercepted any attempts by the 2nd to send out fast flankers. Indeed, most of the two companies of DCMS Mechs lost in this phase of the battle can be directly laid at the feet of the Lyran light units, with both companies being awarded with battle honors post war personally by the Archon.
But even as the 2nd Sword had settled into their extensive fortifications, General Steiner unleashed his first ace in the hole. The 10th Lyran Guards, held in reserve to the great annoyance of Colonel Frederick Steiner were finally unleashed, making a daring orbital drop with their entire Mech regiment right on top of the 2nd Swords line of retreat on the Northern edge of the mountains. Now, the Sword of Light were faced with an ugly choice of either holding in a static position against two RCTs and one independent Mech regiment, or, trying to fight their way out through the 10th to the capital. Probing attacks against the 10th were launched through the night but not pressed terribly hard, seemingly testing the perimeter and confirming that the 10th had all the routes out blocked. Come the morning, the Sword of Light seemed to have pulled back; content for now, to let the Lyrans make the first move against their heavily dug in troops, perhaps hoping clearly that the heavy losses they would inflict upon the RCTs would open up possibilities later.
They would regret this decision when at eight AM local, Roman Steiner deployed the Elvidner.
A specialist unit of six Fortress class dropships, the Elvidner were siege specialists taken to predictably Lyran extremes. While arguably an enormous waste of six rare and powerful dropships that could only be in one place at one time; the unit was undeniably excellent at their work and the ships offered enormous tactical flexibility, fully able to bash through most air defenses to land even behind enemy lines and lay down fire from their six field guns that could reduce most static fortifications to rubble in minutes. Deep magazines ensured they could keep up the barrage for quite some time and between their direct fire weapons and ability between them to carry a Battalion of Battlemechs, it would take a very brave enemy to try and strike at them. Cost wise, they were expensive, incredibly highly valuable and tied up a rare Star Lord class jumpship as their own personal transport … but the one thing they weren't, was ineffective.
This was a factoid made far worse because among the things Kerensky had left behind on Helm were a hundred and fifty SLDF vintage Long-Tom field guns. Each of the Fortress class ships still retained their vehicle bays (typically used to hold scouts for artillery spotting) and seventy two of the field guns from Helm -almost the entire Lyran share- had been quietly assigned to the Elvidner along with the crews to man them. With their SLDF electronics intact, the field guns were able to be tied into the far more sophisticated fire control systems of the dropships easily, essentially generating six thirteen-gun batteries of Long Toms slaved to the dropships own fire-control systems.
And so the Elvidner landed in the mountains within range of the DCMS positions, unloaded their additional field guns … and opened fire.
Unsurprisingly, after the first few fire missions crashed down with enough force the Sworders could have been forgiven for thinking that the Lyrans had found a warship to execute an orbital bombardment with, the DCMS troops had come to a quick and easy decision about their next move as the front line militia units attached to them started to rout and fall back in a panic in the face of the ghastly firepower being thrown at them. Leaving what infantry and most vehicles they had in deeper defensive positions that offered some protection from indirect artillery fire to delay the 2nd and 3rd Royals (which to their credit did hold, stalling the two RCTs for almost seven hours as they were forced to punch their way through the determined defensive lines); the Sword of Light Mechwarriors launched a do-or-die assault on the 10th Lyran Guards to open a path to retreat, closely following their assault tanks that ran flat out for the enemy positions.
The ‘Thundering Elephants’ took them head on, unflinchingly forming a rock upon which the waves of attacks broke. Withering firepower concentrations were backed up by excellent use of tactical air support, with air-to-mud units stacked up above the battlefield halfway to the stratosphere waiting to be called down by the Forward Air Controller riding in the back seat of the 3rd Battalions command mech, with Komondant Cain awarded the Order of Katherine Steiner for his exceptional handling of close air support duties. The unit took quite the beating nonetheless, losing over a third of their Mech regiment holding the line but hold they did, even in the face of a final banzai charge by the fanatical, skilled and desperate Mechwarriors of the Sword of Light that partially penetrated the line, only to run into the backstop of the so-called ‘serial killers’; a lance of Hatchetman Battlemechs who had taken the time to splatter their massive weapons and parts of their torsos with the exact same red paint the Sword of Light used in a fashion that made them very much look like giant butchers of Combine Mechwarriors.
The image of Tai-Sa Goshi Tengwan’s Dragon being quite literally split from head to toe down the middle by a jumping Hatchetman landing and swinging its TSM enhanced hatchet surely has gone down in history as one of the defining images of the Lyran Front. And a popular framed image hung in AFFS bars for the next twenty years.
Less than twenty percent of the 2nd Sword of Lights Mech regiment - mostly the pickets in and around Buckminster City - survived to evacuate by the time the operations in the mountain were completed and very few of their supporting regiments made it out of the ‘peaks of hell’ as they came to be known. The shocked Sworders in the city retained the presence of mind to strip the local militia who had been defending the city of all remaining heavy equipment and portable military gear they could, given the empty slots they had on their jumpships, as well as evacuating the planetary Government before boosting for orbit, trying to destroy as much of the massive DCMS stockpiles as they could on the way out. The somewhat exhausted Aerospace units of the RCTs allowed them to withdraw without pursuit, moving in to take control of the planet with surprisingly limited resistance as large numbers of anti-Government groups seemingly came out of the woodwork with Draconis military power broken.
The 10th would be left to garrison Buckminster and rebuild, with a half dozen supporting regiments already inbound to support them in that effort, even as a provisional Government was swiftly set up in line with Lyran legal requirements. Meanwhile, the 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards taking a page out of Archibald McCarrons book moved onto the offensive, drafting personnel out of the supporting units they had brought to help restore themselves to full strength before moving on. Their mission orders were to double jump - with the help of pre-placed jumpships in a deep space rendezvous point - to start an offensive in the enemy rear. Each unit would split into three roughly equal combat commands built around a single mech battalion and supporting forces. Their mission was to probe a line of worlds parallel but a jump or two behind the front all the way down to the Federated Suns border, to test exactly how much strength there was in the enemy rear.
The answer turned out to be; not much.
The Guards units had very specific targets and mostly came up against nothing but militia - excepting a run-in with the 24th Dieron Regulars on Shitara by Combat Command Charlie of the 3rd. Seemingly oddly at the time, three LCAF Mechs were left behind after a skirmish (with their Mechwarriors rescued) after suffering ‘critical’ damage, without any attempt to destroy the units as the combat command withdrew. This seemingly outrageous failure meant that the Triple Strength Myomer technology fell right into the hands of the DCMS, who wasted very little time in racing the Mechs to Luthien for hurried analysis. It was a failure that should have resulted in quite the black mark for the command commander - but of course, was actually part of the games-within-games Hanse Davion secretly delighted in and Katrina Steiner played along with in amusement. With the payoff coming on the 1st of August 3029, with the launch of ‘Operation Lactic’.
On the whole however, the attacks went off flawlessly with militia units crushed, stockpiles burned and civilians utterly shocked by the fact that the Lyrans were invading them! Chaos followed in their wake as the Combine tried to predict their paths until the 3rd Royal Guard regrouped at (and attacked) Nirasaki, destroying the remaining Battalion of the 36th Dieron Regulars left on planet before bugging out to Quentin to rest, refit and regroup, with the 2nd right behind them hitting Murchison. They were however taken aback when they found the mercenary unit Brion's Legion was engaged in combat with DCMS militia units in yet another blowback of ‘Death to Mercenaries’. Although this time the trigger had been pulled by local Yakuza in an attempt to take advantage of the situation to steal Battlemechs from the Legion, an attempt that had quickly gone awry when it became clear the Legion were not asleep and were very much on the lookout for any kind of treachery from their employer.
Deploying and crushing the local DCMS forces, Brion’s Legion all but fell over itself to surrender to the 3rd, with the sympathetic Lyrans going so far as to provide skeleton crews for their dropships (their own crews having been executed at the starport before they could get back to their ships) to evacuate into the Federated Suns, the two Royal Guard units pausing to rest and refit on the heavily industrialized planet and taking the time to refit and repair. Brion’s Legion itself quickly accepted a defensive contract with the AFFS in the newly forming Sarna March - as far as practically possible away from the Combine.
While there was some speculation that the two Royal Guard units would turn around to take border worlds that had been shown to have quite a limited defensive force, in the end the two Royal Guard units made their way back to Lyran Space after refitting; heading for Skye where they formed a strategic reserve unit for the rest of the war (and perhaps a none too subtle hint to any remaining Free Skye sentiments after Katrina Steiners secret visit with the Kell Hounds to Aldo Lestrade on Summer)...
Altair
Altair was the gateway to Dieron and nominally the closest Combine world to Terra. Its loss would be a dramatic loss of face for the Combine and would help to open the Terran Corridor that the 4th Succession War was intended to build between the two states. While Jumpships of course could travel up to 30 light years safely per jump meaning the Combine could still easily reach Terra if they so wished from other systems; the psychological impact of Terra being ‘engulfed’ by the newly forming FedCom was something the leadership on Tharkad and New Avalon were very much curious to see play out. The planet also held vast strategic mineral wealth that fed directly into several key military-industrial centers through Dieron and Benjamin and finally, its garrison, the 18th Dieron Regulars, were a highly skilled unit who it was considered better to do away with sooner rather than later.
While not a first wave target in the original plans, the Archon decided to add the planet to the first wave list in her revisions both for its strategic value and apparently to test what kind reaction from Dieron was generated with troops right next door to the Warlords capital. Accordingly, a strong combat team from the Lyran Commonwealth built with the Seventeenth Skye Rangers and twenty supporting regiments was deployed.
Duke Aldo Lestrade protested loudly at the use of ‘his’ household troops and was unsurprisingly told off by the Archon. Of course, given that soon after, he was later confronted and executed personally by Katrina Steiner; many see this inclusion of Altair and the 17th as a very shrewd and highly effective move to ensure forces personally loyal to him were ofworld doing their duty when the Kell brothers secretly escorted Katrina Steiner to ‘visit’ when the Hounds were deployed to to replace the 17th as the world's garrison. Backing up the Skye Rangers was Always Faithful; one of the reserve units from Skye and an interesting choice given the history between them and Lestrade given what was about to happen, but surprisingly it didn’t stop the two units from working together reasonably well. Perhaps because they were both confused when they were joined by the third member of their team.
That being the 1st Federated Suns Armored Cavalry, who jumped in two hours ahead of the other units in the hope of causing maximum confusion before the Lyran troops followed.
Given that by all intelligence reports the Armored Cavalry should have been down in the Capellan March spearheading attacks into Hanse Davions wedding present, it did create a great deal of confusion and suspicion when the Zenith Point stations flash transmissions of the insignia and dropship IFF indicators showed that this was indeed the unit burning hard for Altair. When the Skye Rangers and their mercenary support arrived shortly thereafter, the soldiers of the 18th determined that most likely this was a Lyran trick; an attempt to force them to react to the first landing, being decoyed away from the real landing by the following units as they deployed to chase down the ‘real’ threat.
Unfortunately for the Combine forces, it really was the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry who had come calling and their Medium Mechs had been upgraded with both Triple Strength Myomers and a number of Helm Cache ‘gifts’, including a company of CN9-FC-X Centurion Battlemechs mounting gauss rifles and a lance of THG-11Eb Thugs. Exploding out from their LZ with astonishing speed even for the ‘Cav, the picketing forces keeping an eye on what they were sure was a decoy landing were overrun within twenty minutes, their panicked radio transmissions mostly lost behind a serendipitous wall of noise from one of the planets infamous solar flares. Almost before the 18th realized what was happening, the 1st had eliminated their pickets and were moving on Hehiro City through the desert.
The DCMS troops were now caught in a tricky situation. Stuck between the FSAC coming at them through the desert and the Skye Rangers and Always Faithful moving through the inhabited parts of the continent and securing them steadily town by town. Trying to deal with both, they divided their forces, sending half their forces to try and hold the Lyran troops and half to hunt down the Armored Cavalry, trusting to their knowledge of the terrain in the desert to even the odds, starting a very deadly game of cat and mouse that would last for the next three months.
However the very best mobile warfare specialists in the AFFS were unphased by either the terrain or the challenge and pressed their technological advantage to the limits. Trusting in the skills of their company commanders, the AFFS unit spread out and methodically hemmed in the DCMS units until the last remains of the 2nd Battalion of the 18th were forced into the geographical formation known, appropriately perhaps, as ‘Snake Canyon’ and wiped out. While the AFFS had taken stiff losses, with almost a third of their Mechs down and twenty percent personnel losses, they remained combat ready and quickly regrouped to push on the capital itself. Seemingly eager to reach it before the LCAF troops as a point of pride.
With their skirmish force destroyed and the Skye Rangers and their mercenary support steadily pressing in on the capital and almost in position to start a siege, the remains of the 18th at perhaps 50% strength in total - and under 30% in Mech strength thanks to the FSAC - were ordered to pull back to Dieron by their Warlord.
The withdrawal was accomplished flawlessly through the cover of another solar flare, building an impossible lead to their jumpships before their withdraw was discovered. Insurgent activity however would delay the world being declared as fully secure for at least a year and destruction of key refinery and mining infrastructure by ISF commandos would delay the resumption of production until after 3033.
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GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG Wave One Conclusions and Outcomes.
By the time Wave-1 ended, the Lyran Commonwealth had seized an incredible 21 systems from the Draconis Combine and shattered every unit they had come up against. The Combination of strategic surprise, units performing considerably above all pre-war expectations, confusion and chaos in DCMS High Command in turn led to almost alarmingly overly-optimistic exuberance in the LCAF. With only half-joking ‘Luthien by 3030!’ comments in the Media only fanning the flames.
Thankfully however, LCAF High Command remained firmly in control of its expectations and logistical constraints, with few changes planned to the Wave-2 and Wave-3 targets. Helping the operation move along were the ‘defections’ of three Mercenary units along the Combine border as ‘Death to Mercenaries’ spiraled out of control. The St. Cyr Heavy Assault Group, Lone Star Regiment and Helmut's Hermits all independently came to the same conclusions of ‘we might be next’ and accordingly sent notification of an intention to break their contracts to the MRB; citing the rarely involved ‘Sendai Clause’.
Named after the world upon which the Eridani Light Horses dependents had been first held hostage and than slaughtered in an attempt to coerce them during the 1st Succession War, the clause allowed a unit to break contract in protest of exactly the kind of treatment the Dragoons and Cutthroats had suffered, citing a genuine fear of their own dependents safety as hostages or targets of attack by their employer. Rarely invoked due to the enormous difficulty of proving it, the gigabytes of data on the Dragoons and Cutthroats and explicit ‘Death to Mercenaries’ order made it almost childs play. Even as Lyran troops were inbound to attack, the Mercenaries contacted them and asked for (and received in full) privilege, while they went through the formal process of severing their contract with the Combine … to the understandable fury of the local Combine military and political leaders of course, spurring the local Militia to attack the Lone Star regiment at the head of a number of retired Mechwarriors with their family Mechs and ‘civilian volunteers’. The end result of the furious but very poorly organized and led ‘operation’ being that the world was handed over with everything short of a neat little bow to the Lyran Commonwealth.
At this point the primary ComStar representative to the Combine, the Precentor Dieron stepped in. Myndo Watery having been somewhat out of touch on Terra belatedly caught up with the events underway in the Combine and moved quickly to try and force all Mercenary units and the DCMS into ComStar mediation with a flurry of priority messages - to the point of threatening the MRB ratings of all units who unilaterally broke their contracts.
The immediate and enormous backlash from the wider Merc community across the Inner Sphere this generated (who were growing increasingly testy with the Combines treatment of Mercenaries) was led by the Eridani Light Horse themselves and a rare public misstep for the Precentor. Hanse Davions scathing public rebuke of “Mercenary Contracts are business agreements, not suicide pacts!” rather quickly forced ComStar into damage control mode, with the Primus himself being forced to step in and rebuke Precentor Dieron.
A public humiliation that no doubt played a great deal in the events of 3030.
Finally, the last point of interest in the Lyran Front in 3028 was undeniably the only counter-attack launched by the DCMS at this point; the ill fated and not officially sanctioned attempt to strike at Tamar. The perennially vulnerable world that had been stubbornly held by the LCAF in the face of repeated attacks that slowly pushed the border back around it, Tamar was defended by both regiments of the Grave Walkers from the outset of the war, soon joined by the St. Cyr Heavy Assault Group who had jumped across the border from Kandis and were warmly welcomed by Lyrans, accepting a garrison contract for one year until they could more formally decide what to do.
The shattered remains of the 1st and 5th Sun Zhang Academy Cadres ignored their orders to fall back to Radstadt where the 13th Rasalhague Regulars were moving to set up staging grounds for a counter attack, instead jointly launching a do-or-die attack on Tamar with the intentions of punishing the Assault Group for their betrayal, no matter the cost.
The attack predictably was a complete fiasco, with plenty of zeel and determination but little coordination or planning by the cadets who were up against defenders led by Nondi Steiner herself. Her secret presence on the planet as she oversaw the first stages of the war from her forward command post there could have led to a major reversal had she been killed after stepping into the battle personally with her Helm recovered HGN-732b Highlander - seemingly rather eager to give it a test run - but instead it only raised her profile. Especially in the Federated Suns, with the AFFS according her new respect for being willing to get her hands dirty on the front lines.
In actual fact, Steiner had only stepped into the battle because Selvin Kelswa III had been determined to try and take command of the defense personally, with Steiners flat response of ‘...and which military academy did you graduate from?’ not exactly politically expedient, but certainly getting him out of the way as she exercised her authority to take command of the situation and crushed the invasion brutally.
The Dragoons and the Dragon.
While on the Lyran Front, the Combine reeled from the hammer blows of the Lyran offensive, on the Federated Suns border the situation was very different. With the vast bulk of the AFFS off ripping through the upper regions of the Capellan Confederation like an agrimech through fields of wheat, the Combine border had been left far more vulnerable to attack than at any point in recent history - in relative terms.
In practical terms however, the groundwork had been laid to keep the Dragon at bay and with only a fraction of the resources normally present, the Draconis March was able to hold every single world attacked by the Combine - even if they had to temporarily withdraw from three worlds, before counter attacks quickly reclaimed them. And the majority of this can without question, be attributed to the actions of the Wolf’s Dragoons.
The Battle of Misery was in many ways, the opening act of the 4th Succession War. The sheer damage done to the DCMS directly, against their logistical support arms and in seized jumpships very much set the stage for what was coming next. Many people to this day credit Hanse Davion as somehow orchestrating these events down to the Dragons reactions, as if he saw the future itself and carefully manipulated events to his advantage, but what is clear that he reacted very swiftly to changing events and flipped the Galedon region from a major threat on his border to a graveyard of DCMS units and burning strategic stockpiles. The ripple effect of the disruption reached as far as Rasalhague (which lost three Mech Regiments and two dozen supporting regiments without replacement before the Lyrans attacked) as units were shuffled ‘along’ to try and cover the hole, but even so, by the time war broke out and the ‘Death to Mercenaries’ order was given, the new Warlord of Galedon, Kester Hsiun Chi, had been only able to scrape up enough Jumpships and supplies to shift three of his now very precious regiments into the attack. And while he would send carefully worded requests to Luthien requesting additional forces before going after the Dragoons, the Coordinator was in no mood for delays after being so publicly challenged on Terra.
And so the The 12th Galedon Regulars, 8th Galedon Regulars and 5th Galedon Regulars moved to hit three worlds, each covered by two subunits of the Dragoons, given that Snord had attached himself to Alpha Regiment (after it must be noted, bribing Aaron Sandoval with a vintage and fully functional SLDF Alicorn class Assault tank to be allowed to stick with Jamie for the time being). On paper, this would put the defenders on each world at rough numerical parity. The inbound were fresh and equipped with both excellent equipment and a burning desire to avenge the Combine while the Dragoons were known to be exhausted from the brutal Battle of Misery with many of their Mechwarriors probably still injured and repairs certainly not completed.
So said the ISF reports at any rate.
Which were, as it so happened, horribly wrong.
Even more highly classified (to this day) than why Katrina had changed her mind regarding the objectives of GÖTTERDÄMMERUNG was the question of how and when Hanse Davion found out about the Clans - and Wolf’s Dragoons connection to them. For a more in depth discussion on these events, please see Chapter 8 ‘Warden or Crusader?’
In any event, after discussions and negotiations with Ardan Sortek were concluded, Jamie Wolf left for Terra - via New Valencia, which he and the new Home Guard escorted the Dragoons dependents to in a ‘coming home’ moment of considerable ceremony. ‘Fort Jamie Wolf’ where the Dragoons had made their very first landhold in 3005 and which had been maintained by the local militia ever since, was turned back over to them with great ceremony where it was revealed to have been renamed ‘Fort Joshua Wolf’, in honor of all the Dragoons who had died in their circuit of the Inner Sphere. A gesture that only further cemented the emphatic difference between their recent time in the Draconis Combine and their new home in the Federated Suns, soon to be Federated Commonwealth. And with his people as safe as they could be, Wolf with Sortek headed first to New Avalon and then onwards to Terra and the wedding of the century.
Before leaving Robinson however, Wolf issued his deployment orders. Sending two regiments to Wapakoneta, two to Harrow’s Sun and finally sending his own regiment, Alpha, to Glenmora.
Cranston Snord also tagged along with Alpha, but left a week later and with considerable help from MIIO, slipped onto the planet without being noticed by the ISF. So too were all five Dragoons units able to carefully hide their true status, convincing the ISF with a carefully managed disinformation campaign that two of the three planets the Dragoons had settled onto were defended by the equivalent of a single banged up (if elite) Battlemech regiment and Harrows Sun with Alpha was defended by less than half that.
Although the new Warlord of Galedon was, as later records would show, not entirely convinced of the supposed weakness of the Dragoons, he also had no legitimate reason to suggest a delay in the face of the Coordinators expectations of Jamie Wolfs head on his palace doorstep by the end of the year.
Accordingly, as the 4th Succession war broke out, the order was given to commence ‘Operation Amur’ - named for the Siberian Tiger on old Terra that was one of the few predators of the Wolf.
It would prove to be a highly over-optimistic choice of name.
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Wapakoneta
Delta and Beta Regiments of the Dragoons were assigned to Wapakoneta. A planet whose land masses were divided up among many thousands of small to medium sized islands, the two units carefully scouted and laid their plans. The 12th Galedon Regulars came in hot, determined to bring battle to the Dragoons who had made little secret of concentrating themselves on one of the larger islands away from the population centres and there, forting up in solid fortifications rather than looking to use the ideal terrain around the islands for a mobile defense - or deploying in the vast archipelagos of tropical islands to the west which would have provided perfect cover for a guerrilla war.
Eager to take advantage of the mistake, the Regulars deployed and quickly advanced on the Dragoons fortifications. With roughly a hundred Battlemechs deployed in good defensive positions from both Regiments, the Regulars had every reason to think they had the Dragoons pinned in place as they started to probe the defenses expertly through the day and night, while back at their landing zone combat engineers worked hard to prepare the airbase which would allow the regiments of conventional air support they had brought along to deploy and commence air-strikes against the Dragoons static defenses on the morrow. With the 1st Proserpina Hussars inbound from Rasalhague in a very long ‘forced march’ (with the worst possible timing alongside the 4th, who had both been pulled to reinforce the Galedon border only to leave their worlds open for the Lyrans to gleefully scoop them up) and due in two weeks, they only needed to contain and pound the Dragoons, something the relatively inexperienced troops were sure was within their capabilities.
Their plans however went completely awry when at 04:30 local, all forty of the Assault Mechs gifted by Hanse Davion to these two Regiments which had been hiding patiently underwater not too far from the Draconis LZ emerged from the depths and stormed up at the enemy dropships. Having landed a safe distance away from the Dragoons position to ensure no raiding force would be able to break past and attack, the Combines main force was horribly out of position to intercept them when they were finally detected climbing the beach. The cover of a number of Guardian ECM equipped units mean that it was only frantic emergency flares fired by infantry pickets that first alerted the Combine LZ that things were about to go disastrously wrong, shortly before the first grinning Atlas came in sight and put a precise Gauss rifle round through the cockpit of one of the few mechs on guard duty.
Pandemonium erupted in every direction at this point, with the horrified DCMS troops who had been settling in on their siege efforts trying to race back, only to have the Dragoons immediately break cover and, with their Triple Strength Myomer technology, swiftly close in on the DCMS troops. Chaos ensured as some units bravely tried to turn back and delay their pursuit while others hurried onward, leading to a turkey shoot in the dark as the green DCMS troops cohesion was lost. At the LZ, Dropship captains started frantic crash powerups as what many Combine troops incorrectly identified as a rebuilt Zeta Battalion stormed towards them, the Assault Mechs generally not even bothering to shoot at the aerospace and conventional fighters sitting in neat lines with pilots racing for them, but seemingly taking a perverse delight in kicking them to pieces with their feet. Instead, the Dragoons with commendable fire discipline focused their weapons onto the enemy dropships, obliterating first a pair of Union class ships by detonating stockpiles of munitions inside their open cargo hatches and then starting in on a number of parked Leopard CVs who were helplessly unable to takeoff with their runway blocked. Infantry attempted to fight back with Inferno SRMs but to their great chagrin found that the Freezer equipped units tended to not even notice the impacts as they closed in on the heavier Dropships.
At this point, with the seemingly unstoppable Assault Mechs steadily closing in, the Captain of the Traitors Bane, the Excalibur class flagship of the regulars, got his engines online and tried to launch. That action however only attracted the immediate attention of the entire line of Assault Mechs, with a sharp order by Captain Ralph Kincaid to ‘crack that egg!’ resulting in a withering barrage of surface to air firepower tearing into the ships lower decks. A second barrage, mostly the blue particle beams of the Awesomes and Thugs in the force followed moments later as the ship ascended past 500 meters … at which point it seemed to slow its rate of ascent, its engines flickering as internal explosions vomited out of the breaches in its hull...before dying completely.
At this point, to quote the field report of Captain Kincaid; ‘It was yet again proven that what goes up must come down’ and the Dragoons ran for it as the 16 kiloton ship indeed came back down to ‘land’ squarely on top of the Overlord class ship Pride of Matsuida.
The explosion that resulted turned night into day and turned whatever was left of the Combine LZ into a charnel house. Astonishingly, none of the Dragoons mechs were lost in the massive explosion although several were barely operational as they staggered out of the mushroom cloud that rose above the camp. The bulk of the Assault Mechs shook themselves off and pressed on, reforming to intercept the incoming Galedon troops. Later COMINT would determine that the green troops were convinced that the Dragoons had in fact used a nuclear weapon on their comrades and so threw themselves in a suicidal rage at the Dragoons. With predictable results.
When news of the disaster reached the Warlord via ISF spies, he ordered the 12th stricken from the rosters of the DCMS and withheld the Proserpina Hussars who were about to jump, instead shuffling them onwards to Marlowe's Rift and refusing to throw good money after bad; determined to build a heavy task force and go after the Dragoons right.
Harrow’s Sun
On Harrow’s Sun, Epsilon and Gamma Regiments battle lasted for just over a week. The initial Combine force was made up of the 8th Galedon regulars, a crack assault unit with a battalion each of Assault and Heavy Battlemechs that had every hope of being able to crack the Dragoons without waiting for backup. They landed near the Jinxor River, a deep fast moving natural boundary impassable for Mechs except at a couple of points - in this case, the Jinxor Crossing. Dragoon scouts skirmishes with those of the Regulars to limited effect, with the Dragoons happy to pull back when the Combine mechs pushed and the Combine Mechs far too smart to go chasing after them as the unit steadily advanced, with the Dragon scout mechs retiring that evening back across the river, unseen.
On the second day as the Combine units approached the river an attack was launched by the local militia (operating under Dragoon control). Two LTV-4 Hovertank companies with a company of Saracen’s in support managed to knock down three light Combine Mechs and damage a half dozen more with massed fire from ambush. The Regulars surged ahead to clear the ambush but the Hovercraft didn’t stick around, swiftly retreating across the river and up over the hills on the far side. The Regulars screening company moved in hot pursuit - but as they reached the river bank itself, the Mechs stumbled into a minefield the hovercraft had moved over, but the Battlemechs set off.
The DCMS troops were forced to sweep for mines before pressing onwards, although the narrow and raging river meant that only one lance at a time could cross. And when a full company was across and started to fan out to make room, the Dragoons sprung their trap.
Emerging from under their sensor camouflaged tarpaulins in the hills above the river, two full companies of Dragoon units optimised for long-range combat opened fire, obliterating the lead company of mostly light and medium Battlemechs in a matter of seconds. Anchoring the middle of the Dragoon line were all four Thunderhawk Battlemechs assigned to Gamma, with four AS7-FC-X variant Atlas mechs in support; the withering firepower of their sixteen gauss rifles backed by enthusiastic LRM support clearly stunned the Combine Mechwarriors as the lead company simply evaporated under the merciless hammering. The units still trying to cross the river were the next target even as they tried to fall back, knocking out another four Battlemechs before the Combine units scampered out of range and regrouped.
Just before dawn, the Regulars launched an attack across the river twenty kilometers south with a battalion of Jump capable designs at a point just barely narrow enough for them to cross. The Dragoons had identified this possible weak spot, however a simultaneous air attack by the Regulars aerospace wing suppressed the Dragoons patrols long enough to get most of the attack force across before it was spotted. The Dragoons on the river fell back at this point having done their job and moved back into the foothills of the String Forest.
The Combine flanking attack was stopped cold as additional Dragoon companies moved out to flank them in turn, with generally heavier units and superior numbers the DCMS unit was quickly finding itself in trouble. However Tai-sa Victor Nicholas concluded that the Dragoons -based on his intelligence report- had committed everything short of the force that had been holding the river to try and crush his flanking force. Accordingly, he pressed his assault battalion and heavy battalion across the river while, for good measure, ordering his armored support to launch in a suborbital hop to put down just outside Yustis Pass which was the only practical route to the Dragoons base at Fort Belvoir without taking extremely long detours.
Aggressively pursuing the two companies of heavy and assault mechs into the forest, the Regulars closed the distance steadily through the morning blindly following the distinctive trial of Assault Mechs through trees, hearing the increasingly tense communications from their flanking force which seemed to be taking the full attention of the Dragoons bar the unit they were in pursuit of, steadily being ground down to nothing and finally requesting permission to withdraw. The Tai-sa granted the request, reasoning that damage they had done in return had to be critical (it wasn’t) and that he only had to crush these two companies of Mechs in front of him with his two Battalions to then rotate his line of advance and sweep through to eliminate any survivors.
Instead, the 8ths (admittedly impressive) heavy and assault battalions had stormed forward and without their recon screen to hand, had stumbled right onto the concentrated force of every Assault and Heavy mech the two Dragoons units had, laying in wait under the ECM bubble of a handful of Guardian ECM units. The opening volley shattered the lead company of Heavy Mechs (mostly Dragons and Crusaders) with an awe inspiring display of firepower. The Combine units reacted with commendable skill; units in the centre establishing a base of fire behind the corpses of the lead Mechs as other company commanders shifted their units left and right to try and find the flank of the enemy position through the thick woods. The close range slugfest was brutal but it had a specific purpose as the Combine units trying to match the sheer firepower cracking through the air pushed their heat scales rapidly - and at a precisely chosen moment; the forest exploded.
Preset inferno packages seaded all through the area ignited and trees that had been sprayed with a thin inferno gel covering the night before erupted in turn - with a number of SRM equipped Assaults helpfully adding their own missiles to the tempest. Almost between blinks the stunning, lush forest was turned into an upmarket suburb of hell and even as the non-upgraded Dragoon mechs withdrew hastily to the rear, Major Hussein Tajdar with a snark of ‘Let's show the Widdows how it's really done boys and girls!’ led his people into the fire and against the staggering, often on fire Combine mechs.
Even the Double Heat Sink equipped Assault units from Epsilon and Gamma were pushing their heat curve to the absolute limit with the air so saturated, but they could still move and move they did; strolling through the flames in a broad line to rip apart overheating Combine Battlemechs with their bare hands. One company of Draconis Mechs, through the fickle luck of wind patterns, staggered out of the fire and after one look at the situation retreated back to the mornings jump off point, where barely a company from the flanking force managed to disengage and join them. The armored regiment who had completed the suborbital hop, with no contact from the Mechwarriors and the horrified aerospace fighters in the air relaying pictures of where their transponders had shut down one after the other, decided that it would be best to return and regroup and with their morale rock bottom, the Combine units retreated to their LZ and started to dig in.
As it so happened, the Dragoons had taken considerable damage themselves from both the engagements and the firestorm they had set off and would need most of a week to make good their own damage, both sides licking their wounds for now. The DCMS troops seemingly hoped that the Dragoons had been hurt just as badly - a hope that was dashed when the repaired units marched on their base with the militia in support. The ISF liaison officer with the unit executed the most senior surviving Mechwarrior when he suggested an immediate withdraw to preserve their forces and so grimly, the Combine dug in as best they could. It took an extra week until the survivors finally threw in the towel and surrendered, with less than two hundred POWs taken (all prudently handed over to the local militia by the Dragoon officers who had more than a few subordinates with 'ideas' of how to treat them).
Glenmora
To the surprise of many, Cranston Snord was put in charge of the defense of Glenmora by Jamie Wolf. His Mech Battalion, between the Phecda haul and Katrina giving him a decent upgrade shipment from the Helm Cache on top, was probably the most well equipped unit with Lostech in the Inner Sphere giving him incredible striking power. His skills as a mobile fighter were also peerless, having honed them against the Free Worlds League for decades now and the 5th Galedon Regulars, expecting to come up against 40 damaged Mechs at the most (albeit Mechs piloted by elite Mechwarriors), instead came face to face with over 100 fully repaired, mostly upgraded and incredibly pissed off Mechwarriors.
Snord had thus generously decided to give the DCMS a special preview of their future.
Contemporary Combine Mechwarriors will now, of course, recognize the 3050's nightmare of ‘If you can catch it, you have no hope of killing it and if you can’t catch it, it will shoot you to pieces from long range’ that Snord introduced the Combine to. And as it so happens, some of the tactics informally then formally adopted by the DCMS during 3028 to try and counter the mobility of TSM units were surprisingly quickly dusted off in 3053 when the Clans came calling for real.
His units may not have been mounting Clan weapons, but the SLDF upgrades (including two dozen Gauss rifle equipped units) combined with TSM did let him move and shoot in a terrifyingly close simulation of it. Leading two Trianies of Alpha Mechwarriors personally, Snord slashed in and out at the Regulars, encouraging the Dragons and Jenners to chace after him in pursuit before suddenly turning on them, even as 5th slowly tried to close a net around him. Before they could, Snord with shocking speed regrouped and spun around, concentrating and punching through the overstretched 5th and making for a nearby dead end valley, into which his dropships were already arcing down. Clearly, he was aiming for a fast pickup to relocate elsewhere on the planet and start this all over again.
Stung by the losses and determined to stop the Dragoons from ‘getting away’ the 5th regrouped and moved into a fast pursuit, determined to be close enough behind that they could catch Snord trying to load onto his ships, always an evolution that could go catastrophically wrong under fire. And indeed, it surely seemed from their point of view that despite his stunning speed, the Mercenary commander had finally cut one quick-extraction a little too fine as he charged up the valley with the 5th close to hand behind him. And at the appropriate position, the 5th Galedon moved into the target valley - and the order was given to let them have it with all the firepower the Lostech upgraded units could throw down, even as Snord skidded to a halt and reversed course while Alphas assault units swung in to cut off their retreat.
There were no survivors on the DCMS side.
Combine Front Conclusions.
By the time Jamie Wolf had arrived back at Glenmora from Terra, the Dragoons had defeated all three of the DCMS attacks - and had done so with such speed and horrifying application of firepower that all the Combine knew from their spies on planet was that their units had dropped, there had been a battle … and the Dragoons had walked away from each of them casually dusting themselves off.
Or washing off the soot in the case of Epsilon and Gamma.
Attacks were launched by the Combine against other nearby planets such as Marduk, Klathandu IV and Galtor III at roughly the same time, with mixed results. The Terran corridor theater also started to heat up as a limited attack was made by the DCMS, in obtainable support of their CCAF allies, although between the Lyrans shocking progress and the defection of the Northwind Highlanders (at the time put down to yet another 'Death to Mercenaries' blowback although the reality would later prove to be more complicated) that attack quickly bogged down, then was turned back.
In the Galtor Thumb however things were somewhat more mixed.
The defenders on Marduk were a Mercenary unit recently hired personally by Hanse Davion; the Grey Death Legion. Rumors (later confirmed) suggested that their contract had been overly generous to a point of absurdity; offering a landhold with noble title, excellent pay, salvage rights and command rights. Yet another mystery in the face of so many, but what cannot be doubted is that it was yet another excellent investment by the First Prince. The Legion, augmented by the highly enthusiastic local militia, ran the 2nd Amphigean Light Assault Group around in circles leading them into ambush after ambush which ground them down with an extremely impressive grasp of combined arms tactics the DCMS struggled to counter. Most notable was the loss of an entire company of Battlemechs to an ambush by anti-mech infantry supported one tank platoon in the town of Winter falls, ten klicks outside the main strategic target on the planet; the Norse BattleMech Works plant. The 1st Amphigean who had attacked Galtor III were quickly called off from their conquest and brought into reinforce the beleaguered 2nd, with the 10th Deneb Light Cavalry in turn being committed by Archduke Sandoval to support the Legion in what could have been the start of a 3rd Succession War battle of attrition.
However unwilling to play that game, Hirushi Shotugama ordered the units to pull off shortly after and, following orders from the Coordinator, sent the mostly intact 1st and two thirds strength 2nd across into Galedon, to regroup on Marlowe's Rift with the two regiments of the Proserpina Hussars and 60% strength 8th Sword of Light into the beginnings of a task force.
MIIO took notice of the regrouping units and the Eridani Light Horse were issued orders to move from Robinson to Royal, a more forward position to react to any major incursion or counter attack against the worlds the Combine had taken. Jamie Wolf was also warned and after consideration, pulled all three of his units back to Crossing, seeking to consolidate in case he was the target.
But before any new attacks were launched along the border, the war took a very unexpected turn as the Genyosha, who had to the great private concern of Davion and Steiner vanished months ago, now reappeared. And not as anticipated, going after the Kell Hounds, but materializing at a pirate point at Sakhara V - with two Regiments worth of Dropships. Frantic DMI analysis confirmed that the new ships, until very recently, had belonged to the Ryuken-ni and eventually it would be determined that the survivors of the Ryuken had in fact been evacuated from Misery, with the ISF playing an effective shell game on that ice ball of a planet to convince Davion spies that the DCMS troops had been all but abandoned there in disgrace.
instead, even before the wedding of Davion and Steiner, the survivors were secretly brought to the Genyosha and offered a chance to redeem themselves - a chance the DCMS troops had seized with both hands.
Yorinaga Kurita had returned. And a great many worlds through the Draconis and Cruicis Marches would deeply regret that fact before the guns fell silent.
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*claps* More please. :D
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Very well done.
The assassination of Theodore Kurita (let's e frank here) was probably the most grevious loss the DCMS suffered, given the 'big picture' we (and Mr. Smith) have. But ... damn.
Mind you, the prospect of the Feddies getting hold of Theodore and trying to do a Tormana Liao might have been amusing.
(And yes, I get it - it's a pro-Davion story. But enjoyable nonetheless, for the good writing.)
W.
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there were a lot of little hints in this one. I so can not wait for more.
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Brilliant!
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Magnificent! And the Combine's taken a kicking and lost probably their most innovative leader.
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and long term for the DC the loss of Theodore will hurt for the DC as the clans come in
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The problem for Smith is how he's going to deal with Yoringa pulling a Sherman-style March to New Avalon. He might feel guilty that he didn't see his butterflies causing this.
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The problem for Smith is how he's going to deal with Yoringa pulling a Sherman-style March to New Avalon. He might feel guilty that he didn't see his butterflies causing this.
If he feels guilty, I'm sure someone will tell him that this was a butterfly, it was DMI's job to see this coming, and to shut up and soldier. He can be shocked at the reports, but after that he is supposed to get over it and try to help figure out where Yorinaga will strike next.
Plus planning the repair supplies to deal with the aftermath of the attack
Now for someone to mention 'a wounded dragon is still a dragon'
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The update today is simply awesome! It's posted on Spacebattles.
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huh what update?
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Link to the update on spacebattles please :D
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here you go. pop some popcorn and enjoy the ride >:D
https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-415
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Totally worth it. 35,000 words? And he cut some out?
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A mammoth read but sooooooooo worth it!
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A mammoth read but sooooooooo worth it!
You can understand why I cry cross posting here, this forum software *really* needs an upgrade!
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Chapter 14: Hurry up and Wait!
Theodore Kurita, was dead.
The Son of Takashi Kurita, Heir to the Draconis Combine and all around acceptable standard bearer (if you didn’t look too closely) for the Draconis Combine in the Tabletop Game … was dead.
The roaring and cheering, clapping and downright racious celebration was slightly disconcerting to me. Granted, I was in a bar that was inside an institution that was, as a rule, filled with Hyper-Patriot Davionist supporters, but it still felt ... tacky … to have everyone cheering wildly with the news.
On the other hand, I could remember vividly when the announcement had come through of Osama Bin Laden being shot by SEALs not terribly long before I had been dragged into this reality and the spontaneous outbreak of cheering and public celebration taking place in parts of the USA. So perhaps that was just my bias in regards to the news speaking rather than yet another 31st century cultural ‘thing’ I was going to have to get used to.
Of course, to the students, staff, and guests of the NAIS around me cheering and slapping high-fives; Theodore was the Heir to the Dragon. The most hated of foes to the Federated Suns who had waged a centuries long war against them. An enemy who who would continue their eternal struggle to burn down the Inner Sphere and remake it in their own image, if it meant they could rule the ashes uncontested. Or so said Davion PR (not exactly inaccurately either).
To me though? Theodore was … complicated.
In the original timeline, it was undeniable that Theodores combination of daring, leadership and innovation using minimal forces during this war had earned him enormous credit with the DCMS. So much so he had been granted (or more accurately, forced his father to give him) the title of Gunji-no-Kanrei or Deputy for Military affairs and authority over the entire DCMS. Not quite a palace coup, Theodore none the less from that point on was clearly the driving force of military and political power inside the Combine, ultimately saving it in the 3039 war from collapse at the hands of the FedCom.
But for all my scorn for how much ‘Teddy’ had been put on a pedestal and whitewashed in the tabletop game (unlike say Minobu Tetsuhara whom I still felt genuinely torn up about not being able to find a way to save), he was a living breathing human being. One who had, if nothing else, shown he could at least think outside the Kuritan box and admit there was value there ... which put him clearly ahead of 90% of his family line who were known to drink deeply from the Kool Aid. He had made what changes he could against the huge inertial forces in the Combine that fought his every attempt to impose real change in its trajectory. And even if you thought it was damning with faint praise (and it was); he was the ‘best’ of the Kuritas in power for a very long time.
And that was the problem. In multiple ways.
Be it the Kurita extended family, the Warlords, the wider DCMS, the nobility, the Black Dragons, the other Black Dragons who didn’t know about the first Black Dragons, the Yuzuka, ISF groups turning on the Coordinator… the truth was that there were just too many factions too invested and committed to the status quo inside the Combine. It was a perfect balance where any attempt to push things too far would create almost inevitable ‘corrections’ by the others. Theodore had tried (sort of) and only gotten as far as he had because of the overwhelming threat of the Federated Commonwealth and then the Clans giving him breething space and justification. And as those threats had receded, so too in tine had his few attempts at social reform … while he and his father's military reforms were mostly kept meaning the Combines threat had only increased in the long run. Making them as ruthless as ever but considerably smarter in how they used their ruthlessness.
Good guy or just smart guy, Theodore Kurita had singularly failed to meaningfully reform the Draconis Combines culture or society in the long run in any way. Instead, about all he had managed to do was save the Combines rotting corpse from finally snapping under the external pressures it was facing. Keeping the zombie safe just long enough to out-shuffle the threats that might have finally put the miserable culture and government out of humanities misery or forced it to change and evolve in positive ways. Ensuring it endured into the next century.
Robbing hundreds of billions of poor SOBs slaving away twelve hours a day for the GLORY OF THE DRAGON all their lives of any kind of hope of a better future and ensuring they would be around in the ‘dark ages’ to have a crack at the whole ‘Dragon SHALL rule the Inner Sphere!’ thing one more time...
Simply put; the Combine had to be eliminated as a threat. And to do that … Theodore Kurita had to die.
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Alone in the packed bar, I sipped broodingly at my cocktail as the cheering and clapping and hooting in the bar slowly gave way again to a tense murmuring as everyone strained to listen to the woman on the screens as she confirmed that over two months, ago Theodore Kurita, son and heir of Takashi Kurita, had been killed in action as the Combine had just announced.
Yvonne Davion however took great pains to flatly refute the rest of the Combine report; stating that he had not died in a treacherous and cowardly ambush of a convoy of civilian wounded he was escorting to their dropships. Going down fighting and taking half a company of Battlemechs with him and all that.
Clearly that line was just for internal consumption in the Combine and the Voice of the Dragon didn’t really expect it to be taken seriously outside the Combine. It was so ridiculously over the top I was half surprised the Combine hadn’t gone so far as to make the civilians monks on a pilgrimage for peace in honor of Hanse and Melissa's wedding or something. No-one outside the Combine would buy such a story - probably. Outside of perhaps the Confederation, but even they would probably clean the story up to something rather more believable - say what you will about the capellans but they have their citizens at least some credit...
But, just to make sure no-one brought the bullshit; Hanse Davion had approved a release of the Battle ROM of the engagement tonight. Word of the planned announcement had leaked like an Age of War dropship and, unsurprisingly, it seemed almost every cadet at NAIS and most of the rest of the students were waiting and watching breathlessly.
The Princes Champion vanished now to be replaced by a Battle ROM I had seen, frankly, too many times taken by Dan Allards shiney new Wolfhound WLF-2x. The image was a strictly visual feed from his Mech’s vislight systems, focused in on a half dozen Combine Mechs all wearing the white and red with grey highlights of the Legions of Vega. All standing on the edge of what looked like a broad, mostly dry riverbed in a tight formation in front of one of their number. They had clearly been in intense combat, with mud splattered over their paint and weapons mounts blackened from repeated firing, with the telltale signs of armor damage layered on top. And to give them full credit, despite finding themselves surrounded and hopelessly outgunned, they were standing tall and not flinching.
Of course, that was probably because of the specific Mech they were standing around and readily shielding with their own until, clearly with reluctance, they shuffled aside to let it step out to face their enemies.
The Orion of Aleksandr Kerensky. And now Theodore Kurita.
The Lostech machine had been recovered by O5P - somehow - from a periphery world the Exodus fleet had dumped a lot of stuff onto on their way out of the Inner Sphere. I doubted Kerensky of all people had dropped his Mech off by mistake, more likely it was meant to be a message that he would no longer need it or something for his followers.
Too bad his ****** son didn’t take the hint and take up botany or something useful I thought with a silent snort, glaring at the machine. Anyway, now it was the Mech of Theodore Kurita. Refurbished in most of its Lostech glory thanks to some favors called in with the Free Worlds League by his aunt; a great statement of his destiny or something.
It would also be the last Mech he would ever pilot.
To be fair Theodore had made the Lyrans work hard to earn this moment against rather stiff odds, the reports I had read made that clear. He had managed to stay ahead of the howls of the pack for a time but the sheer numbers against him (under vastly more than competent leadership then in the original timeline) had simply been too much.
With a brief flicker the video started and a hissed crackle of a radio transmission started. A man speaking in quite fluent Japanese that I didn’t need the helpfully provided subtitles to understand … having read them many a time.
[[Tai-sa Kurita. I am Lieutenant Colonel Patrick Kell. You are surrounded and outnumbered with no hope of escape or relief. I therefore must ask, with respect for how well you have fought, for the surrender of you and your men. I promise full honors regarding the fair treatment of prisoners of war.]]
There was a bit of a reaction from the crowd to that I couldn’t quite place. Perhaps bloodlusted disdain for giving him the option of surrender when the Combines attitude towards POWs was well known. Or perhaps approval that he was being given the option. Of course, the bullshit the Combine called ‘Bushido’ (which had about as much in common with the real deal of feudal Japan as Mechwarrior 2 had with real Mech piloting) made it clear that surrender was not an option - not for someone of Theodore's station and position.
If he surrendered or was captured and didn’t kill himself, it would immediately discredit him in the eyes of the DCMS, his family and the Combines high society making him irrelevant as a power player and surely make him untenable as the heir. Most Mechwarriors might be able to get away with being ransomed back to the Combine (so long as they still had their Mech anyway) but everyone in the analysis team I worked with on Tuesdays and Thursdays had agreed when reviewing this video that there was no way Takashi could (or would) have acknowledged his son being captured by the enemy and enduring the humiliation of paying a Mercenary unit marked for death money to get his son back.
But then I suppose the difference between ‘them’ and ‘us’ was that at least a good man like Patrick would still make the offer of an honourable surrender to Theodore and mean it.
‘Colonel Kell, my compliments to you and your men’ Theodore's voice came back in English, and I couldn’t help but feel a chill as I knew that this would be the last time it would be heard … and for all that, it was not angry or defiant or enraged. Simply polite and matter of fact as if they were discussing the weather, just perhaps a little tired (understandably as I doubted he had gotten any sleep in the last few days). ‘I must however, with the same respect, decline your offer. The yellow bird may be the enemy of The Dragon ... but the Dragon and its sons do not turn from facing it’.
The yellow bird. Theodores cousin, Yorinaga Kurita, had named Morgan Kell the Yellow Bird. The mythological nemesis of the Dragon. Patrick wasn’t said bird … but he was his brother leading the Kell Hounds until Morgan got back from Terra.
And perhaps that was enough. A Kell and a Kurita. A hopeless battle for one side, with only honour remaining as Kurita offered Patricks Thunderbolt a silent bow that Patrick returned in a chilling echo of the legendary duel all those years ago.
But Theodore was a realist and certainly knew which of the two figures he was cosplaying here - and it wasn’t Morgan. As was made clear moments later by his final words, in Japanese. Which came through very clearly, given that the bar had gone completely silent. With subtitles once again for those who, like me, didn’t speak snake.
[[‘Trees bow to the wind. The typhoon pushes the grass … but the sun will rise’]]
And with his death-poem delivered, the five Combine Mechs charged, the lighter machines moving instantly forward at maximum speed to selflessly draw all fire on themselves. The only one of them with a long range weapon (an LCT-1M probably salvaged from the AFFS in some long ago battle) spat two flights of LRMs that raced on an arc towards the nearest enemy off to the side of Dan’s point of view, even as the others bounded forward to come into their own weapon ranges.
It was magnificent and disturbingly engrossing to watch the Kuritan pilots charge to their death. And, after taking a moment perhaps to acknowledge the valor of the enemy; Dan returned fire.
His ER-Large Laser discharged, the intense cobalt beam ripping out at the speed of light to connect his right arm with a battered looking Jenner; the very enemy the Wolfhound had been designed to kill. His aim was exceptional despite the fringe range and fact that the Jenner had started to jump, slicing into the damaged torso and detonating the unfired SRMs. I cringed yet again as I watched the inferno rounds erupt and the Mech burn from the inside out; a misfiring jump jet sending the flaming hunk of metal spinning off to smash into the ground where it promptly set a perfectly innocent tree on fire.
There was a kind of verbal ‘wince’ and hiss around the bar from the Mechwarrior cadets therein, with several closing their eyes or even muttering things under their breath that sounded almost like sympathy.
That may have been a ‘Drac’ Mechwarrior on the screen, but even so...
“Not the best way to go” a familiar voice murmured from next to me and I turned in to note the man I was waiting here for had, finally, arrived. I nodded in greeting but he had already turned to try and flag down the bartender so I turned back to the vid to watch the action continue to unfold. The Kell Hounds battle line already finished the remaining Combine Mechs with outstanding accuracy and unsurprising effects given that multiple lances were firing at each of the rather light Mechs.
Not one of the pilots ejected.
And, not one of the shots touched Theodore.
Dan’s point of view now tracked around slightly to show Patrick Kell stepping out of line on one side and Theodore in the distance on the other - despite the (inaudible) protests from Salome Ward. Theodore was predictably swift to realize that he hadn’t been touched with even one stray missile because Patrick was giving him the honour and dignity of facing him in a one on one duel - as he clearly had hoped from their earlier bowing. And seizing the opportunity with both hands, Kurita slowed his all-out charge to a more controllable ‘jog’, striding past the wrecks of his escorts. He waited a heartbeat for the sake of decorum for Patrick to reach the valley floor clear of the Hounds, aimed, fired-
-and missed completely.
I mean it wasn’t an easy shot; a combination Gauss and PPC salvo against an evading target when you were also moving wasn’t exactly childs play (and I could very much attest to that!) ... but that wasn’t the reason Theodore had missed. Not that the people in the bar knew why, as they simply jeered and clapped mockingly at the miss.
In reality, the reason Theodore had missed was probably because a second before firing, as I think Psyckosama had put it back on Spacebattles during a Battletech RP; Patrick Kell ‘had just gone UpUp - DownDown - LeftRight - LeftRight on his control stick’...
“Any joy figuring that out?” I queried softly of the newcomer next to me as he took a deep gulp from his just delivered beer after he shot one supremely irritated look at the live feed, now showing Kells LRMs arcing into the evening sky to crash down on Kurita before his large laser sliced into its chest, my question almost lost in the cheering and whooping like this was some Solaris match.
God help me I think I could hear some of the CMS cadets over yonder actually placing hurried bets with each other!
“It makes absolutely no sense” the other complained, in a low tone that mixed exasperation with befuddlement in a way I found highly amusing. Glaring at the screen, then taking another angry gulp of his drink. “We only have passive vis-light, audio and vibration readouts - everything else EM that should be directly radiating or reflecting from other active sources … it's just not there! It’s not even like its a black hole or null reading, it’s … it’s like its transparent! Frankly” he added after taking another gulp as his other hand waved accusingly at the vid, “it makes even less sense than you! And that’s saying something!”
I snorted at that comparison - but did so with a smile on my face, not in any way offended. Dr Ben ‘Buckaroo’ Banzai (or BB to his friends and students of which I was proud to say I was both) had been studying the Battle ROM since it had been hand delivered by pony express several months back from Dan to his Father. He and his best people had, after extensive and systematic study come to exactly the same conclusion about it as they had come to about me and my unlikely emergence to upset the status quo from a HPG prototype misfire.
He had put that conclusion onto the report he hand-delivered to Hanse Davion.
Said conclusions taking up exactly one line on one page.
‘Sire; this is pure bullshit’. With a postscript highly encouraging Hanse to arrange for either Morgan or Patrick to be ‘encouraged’ to visit NAIS for a whole ****** [/I]of experiments to be run.
There were considerable advantages to being his Mad Scientist in Chief to Hanse Davion, one being that you could get away with stuff like that.
Honestly, very little seemed to phase the man. I mean, unlike almost everyone who knew the truth about me, BB was entirely at ease and comfortable around me. Even people like Ardan and Melissa I could tell, at times (even if they would surely deny it) would pause and have to think when something reminded them of the reality of my existence and the still daunting questions about what that meant for both them and reality itself. Dream or the dreamer and all that - that was something I of all people understood far too well and tried not to take personally ... even if it was arguably a rather personal thing by definition.
Such questions (you’d think) would go double for Dr Banzai and his team, given that they were a blatant person-for-person homage by the original Battletech developers to the movie ‘The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai’. Meaning he and his people were not simply a fictional creation where I came from … but an homage to one fictional universe inside another fictional universe.
It should have been enough to give them all headaches.
Instead, the general feeling from Team Banzai’s command Lance towards me was simply annoyance that I did not have a copy of ‘The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension!’ on my iPad when I was yanked into this reality. Well except for Sid - who really did look exactly like Jeff Goldblum and so had delighted in ID4 to a point of smugness that had driven the rest of his team to distraction. His only annoyance being that the movie was in fact still classified (apparently some of the people at NAIS were extremely interested in the few shots of B2 stealth bombers therein and wanted to play with the design, much the same reason as Bayformers I had been kept back as they used CAD tools to study the F-22) so he couldn’t show off his likeness publicly.
The Phantom Mech situation was the only thing thus far that had genuinely annoyed him as far as I could see. My lack of an explanation for it didn’t help his mood on the subject, although he had poured cold water all over the half heated retcon attempts to say it was some kind of magical lostech mumble mumble something something - take that Battletech Line Devs!
Presently we both turned back to the screen as Theodore gamily held his line and whipped an arm up, hurling a bolt of lightning downrange.
Again, he barely missed as Patrick floated to the side, the particle beam passing so close that some of the static electricity actually arced across the side of the Thunderbolt in passing, doing cosmetic damage (and for a split second as I recalled, causing Dan’s Scanlock 347 to flicker with a pulse of data at Patricks location before again insisting there was nothing there although again none of this was shown to the public now).
Patrick returned fire with his laser -his LRM rack was still reloading- and sent the beam slashing across Theodores chest, the Kuritan already spinning his torso and arm expertly to keep the strike away from already damaged areas and minimise dwell time - but sparks still flew as the beam cut into the right shoulder in a tender spot.
Ignoring the damage, Theodore came back around as the distance closed, sighted-
There was a hiss from the crowd as this time, the Gauss rifle slug (his last gauss slug as it so happened) not giving a toss that its target was invisible smashed into Patrick’s leg. The massive kinetic power of the hypersonic impact sheared armor plates off in every direction and destabilized the Thunderbolt, forcing Patrick to stumble to a fast a walk and focus on not falling over.
Seeing his chance, Theodore pushed his Mech to speeds beyond its design limits that would start to rip his myomyer threading in a matter of minutes - but he clearly didn’t think he would live long enough for his Tech to scream at him. A salvo of SRMs erupted from his launcher at just beyond effective range - but even as they rocketed out, they sprayed an impossibly quickly expanding cloud of dirty grey/black smoke into the air - into which Theodore vanished.
Again, there was another collective gasp through the bar, as if they didn’t already know how this was going to turn out but I’ll admit, it was good theater.
It was also a pretty neat tactic.
While Theodore didn’t exactly vanish, his exact position became rather more fuzzy because Battletech Can Into Space, but Cannot Into Sensor Fusion (something else the good Doc and I had had a few long talks about) gaining him an incredibly valuable few more seconds as he closed in … before bursting free from the smoke at least twenty meters to the left of where Dan, based on his crosshair jerk, thought he was going to be.
Now, tactics dictated that Patrick (having the ultimate ECM and decent long-range weapons) should have moved backwards. Keeping the range as open as long as possible to beat Teddy down with steady fire once he emerged.
Instead, he floored it.
Moving in at over ninety kilometers per hour as he pushed his triple strength muscles to their limits, having recovered from his stumble. The Dragon's Heir might be a much harder target to get a track on inside the sensor obscuring smoke, but Patrick was conversely now completely invisible to Theodore. Clearly Theodore hoped to get close as possible to Patrick for what was probably going to be his last chance; firing from the hip as it were and making every shot count - but he would need to reacquire Patrick fast to have any chance.
He just clearly hadn’t anticipated that his target re-acquisition would be in the form of Patricks fist already swinging at his face as he burst through the smoke.
Who has the Magic Bushido Hands now, Teddy?
With an impact speed of something like a hundred and twenty klicks an hour, the Thunderbolts fist braced with enhanced myomers punched right through the damaged Orions shoulder; taking the arm off with a scream of metal audible to Dan’s external microphone pickups - not that you could really hear it over the wild cheers through the bar. A simultaneous burst of medium lasers from Patrick into Theodores chest and then the two titans recoiled away from the collision to deal with physics having its say on issues of inelastic collisions.
The impact combined with Theodores instinctive evasion (that had kept that fist from hitting his cockpit) was too much for his gyro at his flank speed and the Orion spun to the ground with bits and pieces flying everywhere as it rolled wildly, finally coming to an inelegant halt on its face with sparks streaming from its torn open shoulder and black smoke pouring out from the chest.
Patrick who had also almost fallen over again from the sheer physical impact managed to stagger to a stop and spun around in a crouch with his weapons ready, clearly expecting Theodore to be getting to his feet… except the Orion wasn’t moving.
The excitement from the crowd stilled into a tense sort of expectation with everyone leaning forward and by some unspoken signal, BB and I glanced at each other then stood up, the former dropping a 20-pound bill on the bar and standing after finishing off his drink, the two of us starting to make our way out of the bar. A few patrons shot us disbelieving looks that we were leaving now of all times but I ignored them, knowing exactly how this was going to end.
Patrick, closing in on the Mech, slowly.
Patrick reaching down with his (somewhat mangled) hand to flip over the Mech onto its back and look into the cockpit.
Patrick then gently lowering the Mech back to the ground, taking a step back and bowing his Mech to Theodores. A gesture the rest of the Kell Hounds would follow on his lead.
I just hoped, for the sake of dignity, they didn’t include the still picture that had come with the report I had seen. Of Theodore Kurita still strapped into his Mech and with a surprisingly peaceful expression on his face … his hands still grasping the sword he had thrust into his chest.
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“Ah, Friday evening. The best evening of the week. Some things never change, right John?”
“Well to be completely honest; most evenings for me are much the same” I answered BB with a bit of a shrug as we walked into Team Banzais apartment building, swiping ourselves in past security. Even in the NAIS residential areas security was tight with a concierge pulling double duty as a security guard (or possibly vice versa, it was hard to tell) keeping an eye on us as we scanned in and made our way past his desk. “And weekends? His Highness seems to think that it's an excellent time to get into an exoskeleton and jump into simulated infantry combat - dragging me along with ‘the boys’”.
I tried not to sound too sarcastic, which wasn’t easy. Being woken up to go out running around combat ranges with Hanse, Ardan, Quintus, Morgan and a few other people in his inner circle at oh six hundred when I’d much rather sleep wasn’t exactly my idea of a saturday morning. Playing with Mauser-970 rifles was fun at first but there were only so many times you could set cardboard targets on fire with a laser and be entertained at 06:30 in the morning. But Hanse insisted I keep my fitness and skills sharp for when I resumed my formal training. Plus, as Melissa had pointed out to me, he invited me because he liked me- it was a pretty select group. Even if I would have preferred to be in the non-select group sleeping in...
In other words, my weekends, weren't.
Which was especially annoying given that I wasn’t exactly sitting around the Davion Palace sipping ice tea these days. Tuesdays and Thursdays I was bouncing between a small desk in the Fox’s Den and countless subterranean meeting rooms. Switching between being Hanse’s ‘Five Year Old’ per the Evil Overlord list for his various evil schemes, offering commentary on the war and all manner of other things Hanse wanted my opinion on. Wednesdays I was in ongoing Battlemech training with any number of people including Morgan Hasek-Davion, who was honestly just about as terrifying in a Battlemech as he was in Battletech canon and Mondays and Fridays were spent at NAIS. Often with Team Banzai, occasionally even over at the CMS sitting in on classes. Leaving precious little time to myself for anything ...
In all honesty I was greatly looking forward to 3029. In February I’d finally transfer into a second year of cadet training at CMS, getting clear of Hanse Davison’s work ethic. It was no ****** wonder that despite the best medical care in the Inner Sphere being just down the road and an average senior noble life expectancy of over a century, the man had died of a heart attack at sixty-nine.
“Hmm. I’ll have to have a talk with Hanse; we really need to get you out of that palace more often” BB huffed as, eschewing the elevators, he turned for the stairs and starting taking them two at a time up to the third floor. Rolling my eyes, I followed, grumbling over the fact that he also happened to be a fitness nut in perfect shape on top of everything else. Wasn’t it enough that he was a highly skilled unit commander and Mechwarrior (his unit had earned their ‘Elite’ rating honestly), exceptional surgeon, exceptional engineer, guitar hero and pretty damn good racing driver too?
I mean, the man had women in every direction giving looks whenever I saw him in public...
“I mean Smith, when was the last time you went on a date anyway?”
At that I blinked - the question taking me quite off guard and derailing my train of thought quite neatly.
I mean, it was not a question anyone had actually asked me since … well, ever?
Bizarrely enough, on reflection, I realized I had been running so non stop since materializing into existence that romance had never been on my radar. Between the somewhat chaotic first year of my new life involving me trying to first come to terms with the situation then dealing with the consequences of coming clean to Hanse and kick-starting Operation ‘Help The Federated Commonwealth Cheat Like A Bunch Of 30 Year Olds Playing Monopoly’ ... well, dating had really not been a thing. Then had come military training and nothing had exactly stood out in the middle of learning how many pushups I could do before throwing up. Then the Dragoons, the run-in to the 4th Succession War … and now the actual Succession War, which seemed to be going about as well as we hoped but still kept me busy waiting for the shoe to drop ...
BB took my silence (correctly) as my answer.
“Well, we’ve got to see about fixing that tonight kiddo” he determined as he headed inside and closed the door behind him, clearly planning something.
Which was not a threat I took lightly, him being a mad scientist and all that.
And dammit, I wish he would stop calling me kiddo. Depending on how you counted, I was either barely five years younger than him or over over a thousand years older!
After a moment I snorted and shook my head before walking across to my own room. It was a tiny two room deal with a single living/bedroom area and a bathroom - my real room was actually a full scale apartment in the Davion Palace I always felt mildly embarrassed about living in from its sheer opulence. But the practical issues of getting in and out of the NAIS meant that it was easier to just have a spare room here to store all my stuff and so I was able to quickly strip out of the ‘business casual’ clothes I tended to wear on campus, picking out my chosen clothes for the Reception. Trying not to think about what might happen with a Mad scientist ‘planning’ my Love Life.
I reserve the right to bail on this whole thing if I hear him screaming at any point tonight ‘IT’S ALIVE! ALIVVVVEEE!’ ...I silently decided as I slipped on the jacket and started working on my bow-tie, swearing softly as my first attempt to tie it up failed miserably and I as forced to start over.
One of ‘the’ social events of the year (at the end of the year funny enough) on New Avalon, the NAIS Reception was a one of a very few times people got ‘inside’ the NAIS who didn’t have an otherwise crystal clear reason to be there. Mostly the cream of high society of the Federated Suns or their representatives (and a substantial number this year from the Lyran Commonwealth); the guests were here for faculty, top senior students and final year military cadets to show off a lot of their work from this year that was about to go public. Sort of a special preview of what was going to be officially announced over the next year too.
Originally the event had been set up by Hanse to encourage investment from the nobility into NAIS and promote its value to them during the early days as it was under construction. That aspect had diminished and then flipped rapidly as the NAIS (with some excellent licencing agreements) had actually started to turn an increasing profit each financial year from 3018 onwards - but even so, the event was a hot ticket item.
Although amusingly, it was now less about the NAIS begging for money from rich people and more about rich people begging for NAIS to throw some of their attention at this or that pet problem they had...
Predictably; NAIS security (not so secretly) loathed this event - even though it was held in a very specially constructed building right on the edge of the NAIS campus. A cunningly camouflaged perimeter soft-isolated it from the rest of the campus but even so, it was still letting a LOT of people who had only had prefuncionary security checks into the third most secure site on the entire planet. Quintus had even cheerfully told me that NAISSEC always found tiny electronic bugs on the clothes and items of staff heading back into work after the ball, which every year seemed to grow in frequency. And between ROM, the ISF and the Maskirovka there were a LOT of people who enjoyed trying to punch through security at these events. Not just by bugging people, but good old fashioned grunt work of finding certain scientists and chatting away (preferably while they were drunk) - as guests of House Davion.
I mean, the bloody foreign ambassadors were going to be here tonight (well, at least the Combines and Leagues were, the Confederation had understandably declined the invitation, having withdrawn almost all their staff from New Avalon after Hanses wedding present announcement), along with large chunks of their delegations, 90% of whom were almost certainly ‘unofficial-official’ spies.
But then, that was just the way the Inner Sphere rolled. And I supposed breaking off diplomatic relations in a centuries long war was just impractical, so...
MIIO for one was looking forward to the opportunity to feed disinformation via carefully selected (if they knew it or not) plants in the academic staff and even just having fun ‘hanging out’ with their counterparts and talking ‘shop’ on neutral ground with the official spies with diplomatic cover.
So sure, the high society drones and the spooks might delight in this night.
Me?
I was totally with the security teams in planning to loathe it.
This was not my idea of a relaxing Friday night. It was also not optional for me to attend.
So, I got dressed into my tux (I had been told to not wear my cadet dress uniform given that it would just raise too many questions), double checked my invitation was present in its pocket and headed down to the lobby where I waited as patiently as I could for BB and his people.
It was only ten minutes later when the Hong Kong Cavaliers came bouncing down the stairs looking surprisingly sharp in their dress uniforms and carrying their instruments, looking as eager to go as if they were heading out on campaign. While my musical skills were a bit rusty, I had none the less joined in on a number of jam sessions with the band - in between discussions around what I remembered of Network Centric Warfare concepts, then Cloud Computing fundamentals - and those times had been one of the few genuinely fun things I got up to these days. But they were well out of my league as musicians (yet another thing they were just that ****** good at) so I’d never actually play with them, so I was just hitching a lift to the place really.
Outside, their team bus (yes, his regiment had a modified coach for when the band left NAIS to play across Albion which may-or-may-not be coated in milspec armor and may-or-may-not have a weapons locker sufficient to fight off a platoon of DEST Commandos hidden inside) was waiting for us and other members of his regiment who were going along to work the floor and show off a few of their projects, all busy loading up the last of their gear. But as I moved to follow BB towards it, a man in a suit emerged from the crowd to intercept us.
“Ah, Mister Smith. Agent Corran. Your ride to the party with the Princes Complements” the agent greeted me and gestured to a Limo just down the road patiently waiting. I blinked at that, staring at the sunglasses covered eyes of the impassive agent. No-one had said anything about this to me, let alone Hanse...so...
“Very kind” I greeted the other graciously as I approached while, as casually as I could, my right hand happened to extend with my thumb tucked behind the palm, showing four fingers…
And almost immediately the left hand of the agent flashed two fingers back to me and I relaxed a little. The ‘day count’ for today was six - a quick and dirty way to verify the identities of the counterintelligence agents who were responsible for security around the Royal Family and other critical VIPs. It was hardly foolproof of course, but this deep in NAIS it was a pretty safe indicator to convince me to get into the car, so...
I turned and shrugged at BB.
“Sorry ‘dad’, looks like a I’ve got a ride” I apologized using the name I had tried to stick him with from the way he looked after all his people and he nodded at me…
And then suddenly he grinned. Oh no-
“Carry on my wayward sonnnnnnn!” he belted out.
Instantly, everyone in range else joined in, sounding in perfect in harmony.
“There’ll be peace when you are doonnnne!”
Oh for God’s sakes...
I turned away rolling my eyes but unable to help the internal smile, I strode to the Limo, their voices all carrying across this part of the campus.
“Lay your weary head to rest - don’t you cry no moreee!”
I barely resisted the urge to throw a one finger salute over my shoulder as someone who sounded like Tommy Lester started to belt out a baseline with his voice and everyone joined in loudly and proudly (and seriously, was that the sound of women cheering from the balconies on the other side of the road?)
You make one bloody joke about them being a 1980s rock band, leave them along with your iPhones playlist…and they choose a song from the 70s?!
Although I suppose from their perspective, a decade is hardly a meaningful difference of time after near a thousand years-
“Well it’s about time!” a woman's voice of considerable aristocratic tone huffed as I dropped into the back seat of the Limo, turning my taken aback gaze through the rather dim limo to seek out the source of the complaint as the door closed beside me, killing any quick escape.
“Do you know how long you’ve kept us waiting here?” the source of the complaint snapped again as I blinked dumbly at her. “This is a disaster! I’m going to miss the reception line thanks to you! My grand entrance, my moment, ruined forever! Spoiled! All this way and all this effort for nothing. Nothing!” and with that final high pitched cry the woman flung herself back into her chair and her arm up over her face as she started to fret (in an over the top sort of way).
Leaving me sort of frozen in place with my mouth stuck open.
Through sheer willpower I managed to secure my mouth and shifted my eyes around from the dramatically furious aristocrat (who else could it be in that kind of court finery … and with that kind of attitude) to the perfectly calm and amused looking other aristocrat beside her.
This one, I knew very well. Partially from various Battletech sources, but mostly from her pounding my head into the training room floor with great frequency, enthusiasm and energy on alternate Saturday mornings, Hanse had appointed her as my official close combat, small arms, urban combat and general ‘work Smith out until he collapses begging for a mercy kill’ combat instructor shortly after getting back from Terra … because he could be a dick like that.
“Um, hi Kym” I tried to greet her - and like a triggered teenager, the woman on the other side of the car from her bolted upright as if shocked by a live cable.
“Hi? Hi! Hi Kym?!” the first woman spluttered, her face looking outraged and appalled as she snapped back with whiplash speed from her frantic ‘woe is me!’ pose to glare at me. “Cadet” she didn’t quite snarl at me in a way that set my hair on edge, “you are speaking with the Countess Kym Sorensen! In the presence of another member of the nobility! You will not speak so informally to her!”
I blinked at her outraged face then switched to Kym - sorry, Countess Sorensen- whose perfectly MIIO trained poker face only showed neo-Feudal amusement at my situation and offered zero help. And deciding that until I knew what the ****** was going on it was best to tread carefully (I swear to God if BB had set me up with this woman he’d need to invent an overthruster to get back from where I would send him) I offered what I hurriedly recalled would be roughly a correct bow of apology to a noble with a sweep of my arm; holding my gaze at the floor as the Limo got underway (and noting that Sorensen’s shoes were incredibly elegant yet subtly practical in a way that meant she could easily move in them if needed)-
“My Ladies” I stated simply because I had no idea who this was, “my deepest apologies for my behavior and tardiness. I do pledge here and now to do everything and anything I possibly can to assist in making your night one you can enjoy in full”.
There was a long silence only broken by the near silent fuel-cell engine puring under us and I flatly told my body it was not allowed to start sweating as I held that bow...
“Well that’s all I needed to hear” the unknown noble cheerfully agreed in a completely different tone and I wondered wildly if I had gotten into the car with some of kind schizophrenic cousin that Hanse Davion had palmed off onto me.
‘The Davion we don’t talk about’ …
Cautiously I raised my head back to normal and looked over at the other woman who seemed perfectly calm again - but highly amused too. There was something familiar about that expression but I just couldn’t place it. Her green eyes and red hair should have been highly distinctive but her accent was hard to place too and … wait …
Wait.
I knew that smirk.
I sighed, closed my eyes and thumped my head back on the headrest to glare at the Limo ceiling, barely resisting the urge to facepalm as my night suddenly became a whole lot more interesting … in the Chinese way.
“Well, he just got it” I heard Kym observe - sounding far too amused for me liking.
“Took him long enough - which I suppose bodes well” the other woman sniffed in response from her side of the car and after taking a deep breath, I set myself and sat back up. I took a moment to marvel at how very much unlike Melissa Steiner-Davion she looked until I really focused in on that smirk, like a picture out of focus that caused things to sort of fall into place. Even the very shape of her face was different in a subtle way and her voice lower in tone - somehow. And with that scarlet hair a shade darker than Hanse or Morgan's hair and elaborate styling … she looked about as far from the media saturation of Melissa in her wedding gown or reception dresses on Terra as you could get.
Which was clearly the point.
“Mel; the hell?” I sighed in exasperation as what amounted to an evening of walking around a formal New Avalon Reception on my own to at least have that experience … turned into something very very different.
But on reflection, I realized I had only myself to ‘blame’.
It still took me aback at times, the way I had found myself in the ‘inner circle’ when Hanse and Melissa had arrived back from Terra. At first I had concluded my presence was as much as anything simply because as I knew Melissa was here anyway, I might as well make myself useful and help keep her company ...
But the truth was actually considerably simpler; Melissa wanted a friend. No check that, Melissa already considered herself my friend after our amusing interactions on Tharkad where I had, in a breathtakingly clumsy way, thrust myself between her and her fiance to ‘protect’ her from being forced into anything. Seemingly greatly annoying her on that day, but in the long run very much endearing myself to her.
That was a bit of a surprise to me of course. I had expected most people who knew both who and what I was (and just how much I knew about them down to their deepest most private thoughts) to be so uneasy and unsure about me that they would prefer me to be out of sight when I wasn’t actually needed.
But Melissa? Or Mel as she let me call her when secure? Because it was either that or ‘kid’ and ‘kid’ drove her nuts...
She had simply accepted me for who and what I was. And, after he had been brought in on the secret, so too did Morgan Hasek-Davion engage increasingly casually with me until it was like we had know each other for years - even if at times I found myself feeling like a slightly exasperated big brother to him as well, like I was a babysitter for these damn kids…
Even Hanse himself seemed to enjoy just ‘hanging’ after a hard day at the office on Fridays (although HE at least was not someone who needed overwatch). Over the last month we (Hanse, Morgan and I) had been doing so over episodes of Generation Kill once a week -and that had been … interesting.
For example, Hanse’s hilarious squeeing when Jim Mattis (or at least an actor doing a pretty damn good impersonation of ‘Mad Dog’) appeared on screen was endearing; the General apparently loomed larger than life in the service log of his legendary ancestor Arthur Davion. During the Second Soviet Civil War, Mattis had been Davions immediate superior, the ‘tip of his spear’ as Hanse proudly put it of the Northern NATO thrust. Arthurs journals were treasured possessions of House Davion, speaking very highly of his CO - and in turn, his CO’s lauding of his actions had been a very big part of Arthur Davion being made a peer of the Realm and starting House Davion off all those centuries ago...
Ergo, Hanse had totally geeked out over seeing him on the screen as he kicked asses and demanded results (and boy had Hanse not liked me criticising the tactics Mattis had used in his ‘speed is life!’ drive for Baghdad). But beyond that, he and Morgan were honestly fascinated by both how much and how little warfare had changed - and the subtle but very real differences in the way the troops of ‘my’ time fought to the troops of similar time periods in this universe. Said conversations were also kept in limits now, after the first week had kept us up past midnight and resulted in an annoyed Melissa storming out of the bedroom, grabbing Hanse by his hand and without a word, dragging him back inside. Leaning Morgan and eye looking at each other before we carefully shut everything down and silently left the Royal Apartments.
Point made loudly and clearly. Do not keep the First Prince up past his bedtime.
In any event as insane as it sounded to me when I actually thought about it, Melissa had turned into something of an adorkable kid sister to me. Which sort of fit given how I had behaved like an overprotective big brother in the lead up to our first meeting, without asking her opinion or anything logical like that…
BUT, none of that history explained why the hell Kym and Not-Melissa-Steiner-Davion were in a Limo with me right now … like this.
“We’re going to a party. Or didn’t you have them back in caves and trees when you came from?” Melissa arched an elegantly styled eyebrow as she answered my question, drawing my attention back … and scoring one more on snarkboard in her favor.
Yet her sarcasm couldn’t quite hide the almost giddy excitement I could feel coming from her.
“Very well, allow me to rephrase that” I deadpanned. “Why am I in a Limo heading to a party with you, who looks nothing like you, alongside ‘Miss Concussions Thirty Twenty Eight’ - rather than with BB and his people?”
“In order; because Hanse assigned you to be the perfect gentleman escort for a visiting young noblewoman from his valiant Lyran allies, accompanied by a appropriate ranked noble of the Suns as a chaperone. And because while Melissa Steiner-Davion is of course not on New Avalon; there is no way Hanse would ever let me go out incognito without someone he trusts keeping an eye on me ... especially after someone suggested to him that letting his wife get some time out of the palace among his people would be both a well calculated and manageable risk and a very worthwhile endeavor. And that accordingly, that someone could deal with it”.
Her tone was still snarky - but the expression on her face was now so infectiously excited and gleeful in a way that painfully reminded me she was only eighteen years old - and had spent a lot of her life cooped up in the Triad.
And I mean a lot of it. So...
“...alright” I sighed, “Who are you exactly?”
-
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*
“From the Lyran Commonwealth; the Baroness-Designate of Cliffton, Katherine Marsden. The Countess Kimberly Sorensen from Logandale. And Mister John Smith of New Avalon!”.
The guy announcing our arrival at the head of the receiving line in wasn’t phased by the fact I had no title at all - a majority of the guests at the ball tonight didn’t have titles as it so happened. Or even that ‘Katherine’ was from the Lyran Commonwealth for that matter. As I had heard, a lot of Lyrans had been invited - but they had mostly come in with the Lyran ambassadors party. Unsurprisingly by far the largest group and bulging with senior representatives from Lyran megacorps. All of them looking for access to and partnerships with NAIS, now that post wedding clauses in the FedCom treaty around technology access and transfers were kicking in.
Our party on the other hand was probably by far the smallest to get a personal greeting with our host, most of them averaging about twenty people and there were still a half dozen groups behind us who would get a personal audience before the receiving line closed for the night.
‘Katherine’ was hanging lightly off my arm with Kym looming behind us as we started forward. Her burn-identity was that of a Baron's-sons-wife from Gallery, a world held by the ruling Steiners as a personal fief that perhaps made slipping in the required records easier, ensuring she could pass a modest background check. LIC had apparently planted a number of fake identities for Melissa to use, spread out across the Commonwealth and she had chosen to bring ‘Katherine’ out to play tonight. Taking on the persona of a young, just married young ranking noble woman, whose husband had departed New Avalon a week ago to head home for critical business while she remained for this final event. With me assigned as her date by House Davion as a trusted retainer to escort this honored guest to have a good time.
Yes, that was apparently a ‘thing’.
Kym in turn was tagging along as our ‘chaperone’, with the ‘official-unofficial’ implication that her presence was a failsafe to start breaking my bones if I got in any way inappropriate with the VIP guest of the First Prince. Apparently she couldn’t simply escort Melissa herself as at formal court events like this; it was expected a gentleman would be made available by the First Prince escort such a woman. As the daughter of a Duke who, per tradition, had his heri the Countess of a continent (that Kym rarely visited, leaving everything in the hands of a highly trusted and effective regent with considerably more democratic involvement from her people than most nobles would entertain); Kym had a title she used when it suited her and ignored when it didn't. And for today, it let her be 'herself' as a highly strict offical escort here to make sure there was no hanky panky between the maried woman and me.
Yes, that was also apparently a thing.
Seriously; Battletech was just ****** weird at this level; the FedSuns seemed to track along 20th/21st century cultural norms for me … and then suddenly, it was a jump back to the 1600s!
Of course in practical terms, Kym was just taking advantage of the custom to stay close to Melissa without being obvious about it. Because even in an incredibly secure event like this, there was no way in hell Hanse would let his wife out in public, even incognito, without some level of protection. And as far as close protection went, there was little doubt Kym was quite competent - and her impressive gown offered both many places to hide weapons and could be ditched in a matter of seconds, with her emerging in a skintight body glove that would give her maximum freedom of movement to generally punch shoot and stab a path out of here for Melissa as necessary.
In any event the bodyguards standing outside didn’t react as we went inside to find Hanse and Morgan waiting patiently, with a couple of more bodyguards in the corner of the room. And it amused me that ‘Katherine’ was reacting exactly like one would expect a foreign low level Noble being introduced to a House Lord to act; almost vibrating on my arm as her face did an artful impression of someone overflowing with awe and excitement yet trying to play it cool…
Have to admit, she’s a good actor...
‘Katherine’ gave a perfect curtsey as she halted and I bowed formally in time with her, forcing myself to keep my face neutral and calm as Morgan cleared his throat to announce her off the small computer tablet he was holding.
“Highness; the Baroness-Designate of Cliffton from Gallery in the Lyran Commonwealth” Morgan intoned formally - but his lip was twitching in a way that suggested he was holding back his snickering with considerable effort as he stood there looking all too dashing and proud in his Davion Guards uniform.
And honestly, standing next to Hanse with their matching Davion Guards Mess Dress and near identical red hair and Morgan’s technical position as the heir presumptive on top of that; the kid honestly looked like Hanse Davions Son.
A deliberate message I’m sure that would not be lost on Michael Hasek-Davion when he reviewed the footage from this evening.
“Ah, my Lady Marsden. You are most welcome” Hanse Davion offered a nod of exactly sufficient depth to a minor visiting dignitary as he accepted her offered hand and kissed it lightly, causing Melissa to blush prettily. “My great pleasure to see you here this evening”.
I kept my face masked, but it took some effort as the two newlyweds started their little ‘lie by telling the truth’ game with each other, even as I wondered how Melissa kept managing to ‘blush on command’ like that...
“I am so very pleased you were able to attend as Our guest this evening - even if your husband could not escort you” Hanse concluded his remarks with a warm smile - and dancing eyes.
Oh brother… I thought with a sigh as the games began.
“The pleasure is mine Highness - I am so very happy and deeply honored to be here in this exalted facility at your invitation” Melissa smiled with the kind of giddy awe all over her face you would expect of a relatively low level member of the nobility (especially foreign nobility) getting a chance to ‘chat’ with the First Prince of the Federated Suns. “And my thanks for your assigning such a handsome and charming escort to me this evening” she continued with a glance at me and a smile - and something in her eyes put me on guard as she turned back to Hanse, her face a mask of innocence. “My husband is so busy right now with critical work that we have had precious little time together recently. But he selflessly insists that I enjoy myself and the hospitality of the Davion Family - and so I am extremely grateful for you providing such a trusted servant to escort me through this event with him, alas, unable to”.
“It is a great privilege to do so and, truly, the very least I can do” Hanse affirmed with such gravitas I thought he was right on the verge of chewing the scenery … before he paused and switched to a far quieter, more personal tone with his wife. “I too know the pain of being separated from one's spouse by necessity Lady Marsden … and I pray that you and your husband will be reunited openly, swiftly and safely”.
Not that Hanse and Melissa were separated (standing as they were one point two meters away from each other) but for the sake of politics and security it was considered best to still have Melissa officially in the Lyran Commonwealth while the war waged. Partially to keep some of the more touchy Lyran nobles on-side, but mostly because it would ensure no-one was watching as the real Melissa got to work with Hanse to conceive the future Archon-Prince. Because, as Consequences had in his infinite wisdom noted, apparently turkey basters and DNA testing were lostech in the 31st century or something (mental note; ask someone other than the happily married couple about this later, such observations might be crossing snarking lines that were never meant to be crossed).
“Coming from you Highness, that means a great deal ...” Melissa brought my attention back as she nodded into a shallow bow, her tone filled with equal hidden meaning as her head came back up...
Uh oh. I knew that look.
Accordingly, I shifted from ‘on guard’ to ‘Battlestations. ‘Trollisia’ was inbound on an lateral attack run.
“... and I pray the day when our pain will end comes soon” she continued - her phrasing completely legit for both Melissa Steiner talking to her husband and Katherine Marsden empathising with the First Prince. But her gaze turned intense as it locked in on his eyes as her placidly held hands came to gently cradle her stomach before she broke the gaze and poinedly looked down at her hands. “But I do take heart in the news I received from my doctors only this evening that a part of him will be right here with me until we stand as one again…”
I would have taken an oath on the Unfinished Book that the the ghost of Eduard Khil at that moment started to echo in the background of the universe as Hanse Davions jaw dropped faster than the Sian Stock Exchange had on news Tinkinov was under massive attack.
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The NAIS Exhibition Centre was, unsurprisingly, an architectural masterpiece. Built on a scale that dwarfed any other similar structure I had ever been in, it could be reconfigured into various configurations in a matter of days as needed. For tonight, things were laid out like a hexagon with five sub-floors around a central floor, plus the entrance and security areas making up the sixth side of the active areas. Each of the five floors (which were big enough to be impressive enough venues in their own right frankly) had been given over to the NAIS colleges to setup displays and demonstrations and provide a bit of a sneak peak behind the curtain NAIS drew around itself. Although the College of Political Science and The College of Finance were sharing one hall while the The College of Mining/Metallurgy and College of Chemistry were sharing another.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise that upon descending to the main floor ‘Katherine’ veered straight for the ‘money and politics’ subsection. My snarked observation that the Lyrans always went right for the money earned a (playful) glare and suppressing a sigh I followed along with Kym ghosting near us - to my amusement, the crack spook still looked just slightly wide eyed over the revelation she was not just protecting Melissa but the future Archon-Prince of the Federated Commonwealth.
Melissa, having had her fun with her husband, was now focused on making the most of this very rare night out of the palace and efficiently cornered and pinned Professor Samuel Muyskens; the Dean of the College of Finances. She then proceeded to shamelessly monopolize his attention from a number of (theoretically) more senior nobles as she quizzed him closely on his latest work on Macroeconomic Policy in the Outback - even daring to challenge some of his conclusions.
The Professor wasn’t insulted by her aggressive analysis though. In fact, he was seemingly delighted with her questions and even the nobles doing a poor job of standing nearby impatiently waiting for his attention grudgingly just settled down to just listen in interest to the back and forth. Most of it went well over my head but if I was getting it right, came down to questions on the viability of jumpship redeployment from the Lyran Commonwealth and the opportunity cost to said Commonwealth to support economic development in the Outback … I think.
Part of my brain was sarcastically telling me not to listen or watch, just in case the unleashing of FASANOMICS! caused everyone in the room to be set on fire Raiders of the Lost Arc style but I nonetheless tried to politely stand by and look interested as Melissa hyper-focused.
Eventually I got her attention and pointedly looked at the long line of other Barons, Counts and VIPs waiting, causing her to blink in embarrassment before shaking it off and telling the professor she hoped to continue their conversations at a later time and with an enthusiastic agreement and handshake she pulled away onward towards the College of Engineering.
“You thinking of applying for a job in Ways and Means, My Lady?” I muttered as we moved through the crowds, Kym drifting behind us.
“Not as such” she shrugged with a smile. “But economics is a bit of a hobby of mine and there are a lot of people pushing theoretical models for how the Federated Commonwealth treaty will play out economically long term. And I’m eager to start canvassing opinions”.
“I didn’t know Gallery was such a trade hub, My Lady” I noted as casually as I could and I saw the flicker in Melissa's eyes as she belatedly remembered she wasn’t the Archon Designate and wife of Hanse Davion who had the finest training in such things the Lyran Commonwealth could provide (not to mention having enough pocket money to buy and sell planets) … but a Barons daughter from some underground town on Gallery.
Predictably, she took my implied criticism … and ran with it.
“Well, Gallery has pretty poor agricultural output to be sure - even with hydroponics technology left from the Star League eras underground, we import a lot of food. But we also export a great deal of high technology equipment and are self sufficient in raw materials…” and to my chagrin I realized I had just given her an excuse to reaffirm her cover by lecturing me about the import/export cycles on her aunts holdings ... for the next five minutes.
If there were any spies around wondering if she was legit, seriously, they would have probably ticked her off and moved on after thirty seconds. I don’t know why I kept forgetting that Melissa Steiner-Davion actually tested as having a near photographic memory...
So I sighed and rolled with it as the young woman enthusiastically ran through jumpship trade links, hostile takeovers and capital reserve changes throughout most of Donegal and everything else I neither needed nor wanted to know … and in doing so, gained the attention of a number of Lyran nobles in turn who all started chatting together with ‘Katherine’. I tensed up despite myself, thinking she had every chance to blow her cover now but luckily this cluster were from Trelshire and far away from Gallery. And even better, were seemingly delighted in discussing the possibilities of the technological transfer agreements that were due to come into force with the Federated Suns.
And while Melissa was mostly just playing to her cover … I realized as I watched her that she was genuinely enjoying her evening. She was alive, her eyes sparkling in a way I had never really seen her before as she went back and forth on these topics and I realized for the next Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth and wife of Hanse Davion, this was very much her bread and butter. And being able to chat away like this with lower ranked nobles, incognito, getting their point of view on things was something she had probably rarely done - if ever done.
So I told myself to shut up, stand back a little bit and politely stand there, smiling.
Tonight is not about me. Tonight is about her.
Standing around also gave me time to introspect a bit as it started to dawn on me just how much trust Hanse Davion had extended to me. I mean, holy shit; I was escorting his wife incognito with minimal security into a public event.
Granted, a public event inside the most secure facility on New Avalon after Castle Avalon and the Fox’s Den with most of a regiment of Jump Infantry ninety seconds away.
But even so, that he thought enough of me that he was willing to put Melissa's security somewhat into my hands - not to mention that of his heir he had found out was also coming along for the ride tonight...
In hindsight perhaps it was the universe being ironic - or perhaps it was BROB being an ****** - but as my attention drifted reflecting on how I was being so trusted to keep Melissa safe, I drifted to my right as I circled around he to keep her in sight - and ran right into someone, almost falling over.
I could just hear the sarcastic clapping right now. Smooth John, really smooth!
“I’m terribly sorry” I apologized as I recovered, feeling slightly red faced as I silently hoped this wouldn’t be some stuck up himself Noble fully prepared to sneer at me-
Then I saw who I had actually bumped into. And suddenly wished it HAD been a stuck up Noble incited to yell abuse at me.
Because the man in question was instead just wearing a simple (but very high quality looking) red robe.
Strike One.
The men and women behind and around him, clearly of the same party, were also in robes of the same style ... all yellow.
Strike Two.
And all of the robes were clasped together at their throat by a double circle fixture with a downward pointing trail in silver (and gold in the case of Red Leader here) - and each of them had a Greek letter on their collar along with a Roman Numeral.
Strike Three! I’m out-
“Not at all - it is a little crowded here” ‘Red’ said smiled cordially in response to my initial apology leaving me feeling like a fly stuck in a web as a horrible spider smiled at me - but as I started to give serious thought to attempting a strategic withdraw from the area (read, running like hell screaming like a six year old), Melissa reappeared as if from nowhere with a cheerful expression on her face.
“John, have you heard about the water purification technology on display?” she gushed like an excited kid. “Such an amazing - oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had found a friend!” she said with an overly taken aback blick as she sized up the man I was standing next to. “And, uh, is it … Adept?” she frowned in polite confusion at ‘Red’, drawing all attention to herself as she moved ever so slightly to edge in front of her without looking like she was moving in front of me.
If not for the twin facts that she was a very happily married woman (both in her current persona as well as reality); I could have kissed her.
As it was, I snapped out of my ‘dear in headlights’ mode. Forcing myself to calm the ****** down and put my ‘pleasant, non committal generic smile during annoying social interactions’ I had practiced in a mirror many times onto my face.
The red robed man she had addressed and (clearly) deliberately misidentified simply smiled the kind of charming, tolerant and faintly amused smile that the public face of the order on New Avalon would be expected to deliver on command.
“Ah, no, I am afraid not my good Lady. Precentor Huthrin Vandvel of the First Circuit of ComStar, at your service” he offered a brief bow before gesturing behind him. “And these are my associates, from the New Avalon HPG Station.”
Rho-Gamma I concluded flatly as I ran my eyes over the kindly smiling Adepts with my own smiling face that was probably just as honest in its implied offer of friendship and goodwill as they offered shallow bows. ROMs diplomatic branch who attended events like this for the express purpose of HUMINT. Which is good - I Doubt Rho-Rho would ever let their people dress up formally and go to events where files could be opened on them as identified ComStar agents...
“And I am certain I have not had the pleasure My Lady - no man could have possibly forgotten a woman as beautiful as you” Vandvel continued his conversation with a smile at Melissa that caused her to blush (seriously how does she do that?!) and she offered her hand to him almost like a shy young woman meeting a full blown rock star.
“Katherine Marsden - daughter of the Baron of Cliffton - from the Commonwealth” she identified herself and Vandvel kissed her hand with exquisite manners - and I congratulated myself for not putting my fist through his face then and there, even as a part of my mind wondered if he could be delivering a bioweapon through his lips with a Toxin Effuser or something. No matter how many times I told myself he wasn’t a Manei Domini wanabe … probably.
“Charmed, of course” he smiled in a grandfatherly way - and now I was pretty sure he had no clue who she really was - before turning to me. I forced myself not to react, feeling a little safer as I spotted Kym calmly and casually drifting into a backstop position behind the gaggle, her hands folded inside her robe in a way that looked utterly natural but strongly suggested to me she was armed and perfectly ready to make mincemeat of the Toaster Worshipers if they started anything near Melissa and damn the diplomatic consequences. “And who is your friend?”
“Oh - he’s not really my friend” Melissa giggled a little. “My husband had to leave New Avalon a little early and Prince Davion was so very kind to assign someone from his household to escort me” she said in a mildly dismissive way - and bless her, she was trying to push me aside as if I was simply a servant, exactly as a snobby young noble would.
“How typically galent of the First Prince” Vandvel agreed and he extended his hand to me. “Precentor Huthrin Vandvel” - clearly he expected a name. Damnit. Why hadn’t Quintus set me up with one? 20/20 hindsight I guess...
“John Smith” I supplied, taking the hand and shaking it firmly - and was that a flash of recognition in the man's eyes?
A chill went down my spine even as I kept my face cordial, a chill deepened by the way a couple of the ROM drones behind him suddenly seemed to focus in on me.
“Well met Mister Smith” he smiled and I felt my skin crawl at the look on his face, like he was genuinely delighted to meet me.
Said the spider to the fly. Delighted perhaps to put a face to some ROM file?
“So very kind of you to escort Miss Marsden here tonight? Spending your evening escorting a guest of the Commonwealth through this event? Clearly Prince Davion has great trust in you” he nodded at me in with all the jolly tone of a friendly grandfather.
On the plus side, I got the feeling that ‘Katherine Marsden’ had all but vanished from his attention at this point. On the other hand, the reason she had vanished-
Don’t panic Smith. You’re probably just overreacting I scolded myself as I let go of the man's hand. And even if you are compromised, giving away more by panicking is not going to help anyone!
“A duty and a privilege, Precentor” I answered with an abbreviated bow that was somewhat more like a nod as I mentally yanked my own choke chain and forced myself to calm down, once again realizing that against my image of myself as some kind of James Bond super spy, I really wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. “As I’m sure your presence here comes from an equally privileged duty in service of the Word of Blake”.
Achievement unlocked! Burn the Toast(ers).
“Kindly said Mister Smith, I thank you” Vandvel gave me an approving, perhaps even surprised nod. “And a very refreshing attitude I must confess; I do fear that this evening my brothers, sisters and I have been the target of polite social scorn by many of the people in this place who, alas, fail to understand that ComStar exists in neutrality to serve all mankind. That we serve as beacons of light in the darkness during these times of war and trouble that all too often plague mankind …”
I would take an oath to BROB at that point that I started to hear the ‘Hallowed are the Ori’ theme from SG1 start to play over the room as the Prior - sorry, Precentor- spoke on. His tone, bearing and delivery were all changing in a subtle but real way, probably entirely unconsciously, as he spoke about his holy mission…as were the bearings of his colleagues behind him as they bowed their heads slightly like he was holding a ****** religious service in the middle of the NAIS...
Yeah, I could see why the room was making him a target of polite social scorn if this was the way he and other Precentors behaved at parties.
On the plus side, at least this wasn’t Waterly. I would have honestly struggled to not punch her in her stupid face.
I pushed past that thought - and any thoughts of trying to engage with this man in a verbal fencing match. I liked to think I learned from my mistakes and the cockup I had made engaged with Kerensky on Robinson was forever fresh in my mind. Disengage Smith, disengage!
“That is unfortunate - but I still hope you have had an enjoyable night?” I suggested when I had a second to cut in and the other seemed to blink, come instantly back to himself … and smile again at me in a way that I really didn’t like.
“Oh, quite so Mister Smith” he assured me. “Quite so indeed.”
“Then if you’ll excuse me Precentor, I believe that the Lady Marsden wished to move onto the next gallery and inspect the water purification technology there. The Peace of Blake be with you all” I finished with as glance at a nod to the group as a whole as I held my arm out, Melissa lazily sort of latching on as she too offered a courtly nod.
“And with you” the Precentor -and those behind him- replied, seemingly on reflex. And for an instant all looking amusingly nonplussed that I had ended the conversation with that line rather than him as I led Melissa away, forcing myself to keep to a slow, casual pace out of the area. Yet somehow feeling the gaze of Precentor New Avalon burning into my back like a TAG laser even as we faded into the crowd.
“And are you having a good time My Lady?” I asked Melissa, eager to start normal programing again, still feeling my skin crawling from my first meeting with The Enemy.
The real enemy. The Combine, the Confederation - even the Clans were, ultimately, geopolitical, military enemies. ComStar on the other hand unlike all the other bad guys that started with the letter C were fanatics above and beyond everyone to all mankind.
“But of course! Let’s move on - I really want to see this water purification technology they are bragging about” she smiled brightly - but for an instant her hand came down onto my forearm and Melissa - not Katherine- gave it a brief squeeze that said without saying a word that she understand how unsettled that little meeting had made me and was offering me her support.
I made a mental note to at least double the length of the hug I was going to give her when we got back home.
After of course I really washed the hand I had shaken the Toaster Worshipers hand with, wondering if Hanse would consider me too paranoid if I asked it to be screened by counterintelligence on the way out for any nanite-tech microphones or something...
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“You know, these are really good” Melissa noted to me as she scoffed down another slider with surprisingly little thought to her royal dignity, making me think she was simply delighting in being able to throw out her table manners for a night (and/or pregnancy cravings happened much earlier than in the 21st century). As it turned out, hamburger sliders had come and gone in fads at different points in different names on different planets cycling from ‘high society’ to ‘low society’ and back again, but nothing like them had been seen in the Royal Courts on New Avalon or Tharkad - at least during her lifetime as far as Melissa recalled.
My conversations a week or two ago with the Davion kitchen had fixed that right up. Sometimes it was good having entire battalions of servants whose only job was to make whatever the hell you wanted to happen, happen, hanging around...
“Not bad at all” I agreed as Melissa finished wolfing down her slider and I had to work hard to stop from bursting out laughing at the mess she left on her face - succeeding insomuch as I toned it down to a sort of strangled snicker. But it got her attention.
“What?” she demanded with narrowed eyes and I didn’t say anything, just handing over the napkin that I had picked up with my sliders and getting my meaning, she hastily went to work on her face before using a conveniently polished brass covering on the wall to check and then wipe her face down some more to clear away the mess, looking hilariously frantic.
“Oh har har, funny very” she sniffed once she had (eventually) gotten the sauce off - but I could tell her haunted aristocratic tone was pure sophistry. She was having a ball tonight as ‘Katherine Marsden’ - even something as casually funny as getting sauce on her face was just so different to her normal life. She had dragged me in an arc through the entire series of displays put on by the colleges from start to finish and I couldn’t help but be slightly awed by her intelligence as I trailed in her wake. I knew she was smart and had been given the finest education possible in the Lyran Commonwealth but she honestly surprised me nonetheless how broad her knowledge was as she talked like an omni-discipline student, leaving a trail of genuinely impressed academics in her path.
The hall occupied by the college of Engineering, for example, had been (perhaps unsurprisingly) far busier than the ‘money and politics’ sections. With very little Lostech on display, but lots of other 'new-tech' was. Including an example of the Triple Strength Myomers on display side-by-side with conventional fibres to show off the dramatic differences in strength (and unsurprisingly gaining considerable attention given how it had gone public with wave two of the AFFS crashing into the Confederation including just delivered and genuine combat footage from McKinions daring drop into Tikograd with him running absoloutly wild behind the lines). But by far drawing the most attention was a massive (as in at least three stories tall and a hundred meters long) block of glorified fusion powered plumbing; an industrial hostile water purification system that NAIS was almost ready to deploy to select test planets. Using a new artificial compound called ‘filtrum’ (an entirely uninspiring name in my opinion for something so revolutionary) the technology shown off tonight had been something of the holy grail for a lot of the Inner Sphere for centuries. It had the potential to, quite literally, change the lives of a hundred billion or more people around the Federated Commonwealth states and probably three to five times that many around the rest of known human space by providing easy. access to purified drinking and agricultural water. Something that, horribly, was far from a given in 3028.
In all honesty, it represented probably the greatest contribution yet the NAIS had made to mankind - myself included.
Unknown to even most of the project team, it was also one of only three active technological projects to gain (carefully washed as ‘new data from the Halstead Station collection’) technological input from the Helm Core. Although while the data from Helm had helped solve a few critical problems, the massive thing on display tonight was not a recreation of the late generation Hegemony water purification systems (which were near two orders of magnitude more efficient) … and would be about as much more expensive for that matter and incredibly hard to maintain.
This SOB was far bigger, bulkier and less elegant … but it was also tough and relatively cheap. Ragnarok proofed to be able to be built and maintained with a 3025 technology base instead of a 2750 one - with a simple solution of being able to build more and more of the modular units side by side to make up for the relative efficiency difference - once filtrum manufacturing was brought up to industrial levels, something NAIS was ready to now look for partners to help them with...
The hoard of Lyran industrialists concentrated in this room (it seemed they could sniff out money making opportunities) had quickly come to the obvious conclusion after gawking through the presentation the engineering team had given; whoever cornered this market with an exclusive manufacturing contract with NAIS would have a Royal Remit to all but print money for the next fifty years.
Accordingly, to my great amusement (and Melissa's clear-to-me embarrassment) the engineers showing off the technology were effectively under a polite form of siege as the barbarian horde made up of reps of Lyran Megacorps pushed and pulled at each other at the velvet rope line of a castle wall; each fighting with determination to get close enough to deliver their own variant of ‘Shut up and take my Kronor!’
Clearly exasperated at her countrymen and women living up to every stereotype you could think of, Melissa had grabbed my hand and dragged me off into the next hall, occupied by the College of Military Sciences, as I tried not to laugh.
And failed - but at least keeping it at a level of a snarking-snickering.
We drifted through more displays but eventually came the announcement that Prince Davion was about to deliver his keynote after which Team Banzai would rock the place out so we drifted back into the increasingly packed main hall along with thousands of other latecomers to find the main floor was already pretty packed. However three concentric ‘C’ shaped tiers of ascending space adjacent to it were set aside for increasingly senior nobility and here having a Countess for a chaperone was very handy as we were easily able to find standing room on the first of the tiers with a good view of the stage, claiming an empty stand-up table just as the lights dimmed, with fruit juice for all (Kym was on duty and I was in solidarity with the pregnant princess) as a brief trumpet sort of fanfare played - then a voice came over the grand cavernous room.
“Lords and Ladies, honored guests; the First Prince of the Federated Suns” it said - and with a shockingly loud cheering from the crowd, a spotlight fixed Hanse Davion as he confidently strode onto the stage.
The crowd's volume was a little intimidating and I exchanged a sideways glance with Melissa, seeing in her eyes that the sheer exuberance had taken her aback as it had me, but a warning poke in our backs from Kym to both of us had us quickly beaming and joining in just as loudly as the roaring, clapping and cheering echoed from the hard walls with the more restrained and polite clapping from the nobility around and behind us.
And kept clapping.
And clapped some more.
Seriously people, this isn’t the Combine. Security won’t shoot the first person to stop clapping… I thought but eventually Hanse managed to get things under control.
“Good evening” Hanse finally started, his face dropping from his famous grin to a much more serious look as he took in the tens of thousands of people around him, his face broadcast above the stage on a massive holographic projection that, as much as everything else, was about showing off NAIS’s technology. “Tonight's reception, was intended to be a celebration. A validation, once again, of the incredible strides the New Avalon Institute of Science has made and continues to make in pushing humanity back from the precipice we danced upon. Tonight, you all need only look around to see just what marvelous progress we have made and continue to make shoving mankind away from the abyss!” he said, earning a new round of cheering and applause that took another good ten seconds or so to stop. “However … however, as you are also well aware, a great war now rages across the Inner Sphere. A war that has caught a great many people by surprise both in the unleashing of it and the fact that Katrina Steiner and I would launch it on the day of my wedding to Melissa Steiner. In a strange way, the New Avalon Institute of Science is at the heart of this war and so I fear I must speak to these events now” he said and the rapt attention of the crowd was almost a physical thing in the room as Hanse finally stepped up to talk about events that had unfolded since that day.
And I’d frankly admit I was also fascinated at what Hanse was going to say.
The public reaction on the ‘street’ to the launch of the 4th Succession War had been huge of course. Shock and disbelief … followed at whiplash speed by glee and continual snarks wondering how exactly Hanse and Melissa would ‘split the China’ if they got a divorce. To my surprise there were even a few voices loudly decrying it as a gross war crime against peace comparable to the destruction of the Star League. Although said groups were extremely fringe and -as was later explained to me- known for making such claims seemingly to try and get a rise out of the AFFS cult more than because they seriously believed it. Yet they were loudly celebrated (almost smugly) as champions of the freedom of the press the Federated Suns held dear compared to their enemies...even as what they said was mocked by the vast majority of the press and snickered at by the vast bulk of the population.
The cynical information-age part of me however wondered if these ‘fringes’ were in fact quietly controlled (or at least very carefully influenced) by the Government, to be a caricature of a opposition point of view. Making it harder for a real opposition to get their voices heard should one form...
But in any event, my biggest surprise at the public reception of the news was that the question of why Hanse had unleashed this massive all-out offensive … wasn’t asked. Glib as his ‘wedding present’ was, no-one actually seemed interested in digging into real reasons. Astonishingly -and perhaps alarmingly to me- it was simply accepted that the Capellan Confederation were the enemy and thus, it was righteous and good that Hanse was slapping them silly and offering them as a gift to his blushing bride.
As if public support for interstellar war should be that casually absolute and unequivocal!
But finally it seemed Hanse was determined to get out in front of things before the narrative changed. And with Wave 2 of Operation RAT coming to a close and wave three accelerating its preparations, it was probably as good a time as any.
“As I am sure many of the people in this room, across the Suns and indeed across the Inner Sphere expected; in the early years of my reign my attention and desires for military redress were focused greatly on the Draconis Combine. Until recent events took place, I can say I was focused on them - and indeed, perhaps focused too closely on those who had killed my Brother. For while certainly I did not ignore the threat of the Capellan Confederation, I clearly underestimated them. It was a grave mistake that almost cost me my life and the Federated Suns far more” he said, causing a ripple of unease, distress or perhaps just worry in general to flow across the room, tinged with confusion. As everyone clearly paused to try and think about what the hell he was talking about - and came up short.
Holy shit, was he about to go public about that, I wondered, unable to help myself as I glanced at Melissa - but her focus was entirely on her husband so I quickly changed my glance back.
“And to explain why the decisions have been made that led us to where we are today; I must present the guests of honor of tonight; the First Prince Hanse Davion and the Heir to the Capellan March, Morgan Hasek-Davion” ‘Hanse’ finished, turning to gesture to the side, causing a sudden eruption of confused noise … then gasps of stunned shock as a second Hanse Davion, this time with Morgan marching beside him, strode onto the stage. The hologram above refocusing slightly as the two Hanse Davions closed in and stood next to each other, shaking hands.
Body doubles were a thing of course, but up close and side by side they were generally quite easy to tell apart. Their job was to fool snipers and take car bombs for the team and ‘close enough’ was perfectly good for that. Even the best doubles who had taken surgery when side by side generally could be seen to be two different people - even if you might get confused as to which was the real one unless you them personally. And of course, their voices and ‘presence’ were rather different.
Not here. Not this time.
The first and second Hanse … well, it was incredible how perfectly identical they were.
Which reminded me...
“Admit it” I murmured in Melissa's ear as I leaned in closer, far too low in volume for anyone else to hear me. “You’ve have this exact dream-”
The kick that bounced off my shin was totally worth the scarlet flush I earned on her face. One that this time I knew was not a planned reaction. And I took the point earned and leaned away, before my twitch of a smirk faded away as Hanse 1.0 … changed. And spoke up, timedly.
“Did … did I do it well, my Prince?"
The way the ‘fake’ Hanse seemed to all but collapse in on himself, becoming so small as the sheer presence of Hanse Davion he had so naturally projected collapsed into an almost childlike uncertainty shocked the room into a unified stunned silence as Doppelganger Hanse was gently reassured by Real Hanse that he had, before being passed off to a number of handlers who had discreetly followed Hanse and Morgan. Helping off the stage the man who had moments ago convinced an entire room of the most senior people on New Avalon without trying he WAS ‘The Fox’ … leaving only the real deal in place who turned back to face the crowd.
Okay, gotta admit as entrances went, that was pretty damn spectacular...
“Many of you here tonight are no doubt wondering why I chose to move against the Capellan Confederation instead of the Draconis Combine” Hanse begun with a shocking bluntness and volume that sliced across the room. His bearing and manner implacable and almost chilling in the icy gaze from his eyes. “He was the reason. Three years ago, my close friend Colonel Ardan Sortek, during a mission on Stein's Folly, stumbled onto what we would later determine was a forward staging ground for a Maskirovka operation named ‘Doppelganger’. An attempt, as I’m sure you have all worked out, by Maximilian Liao with the aid of some traitors in my household to replace me with the man you just met”.
The audience reeled with an understandable gasp of shock at that revelation, but Hanse kept going over the top and everyone rapidly shut up as he continued laying it all out.
“Ardan was badly injured in the process of stumbling onto this facility, having been forced to eject from his Mech after being separated from his unit and was in poor shape when recovered days later. Badly injured and delirious without any evidence for his seemingly wild claims, I and others around me - several of whom I would later find were part of the conspiracy - foolishly dismissed his warnings and sent him to recover on Tharkad as a guest of the Archon, who had sent a hospital ship as a gesture of solidarity with the Federated Suns. There, he spent considerable time with Melissa Steiner, being one of the very few people, at that time, who knew she was to be my wife. With compassion and determination, she helped Ardan recover. With intelligence and wisdom vastly beyond her years, she was far less inclined to simply dismiss Ardans claims. Proving even before we got married” he said with a smirk, “that The Wife is Always Right”.
The crowd erupted in laughter and cheering at this, letting loose a little of the tension with his wry grin… while next to me, said wife facepalmed - but I could feel the embarrassed smile at his praise for her behind her hand.
I still made a distinct whip-cracking sound that until a few months ago probably would have just confused Melissa, but now earned me another kick to the shins. But I’d take it for another point on our little scoreboard.
“Suffice to say that Ardan returned with the help of the Archon and her daughter, gathered a number of 1st Davion Guards Mechwarriors he absolutely trusted and proceeded to investigate his suspicions, even in the face of my dismissing the threat as I left for a routine trip to Argyle. After finding some hard evidence to back his claims, Ardan raced to warn me, but arrived on Argyle just in time for the conspiracy, which included several trusted members of my household staff, to make their move…”
Hanse was one hell of a storyteller, I’d give him that. He had the entire crowd (and would probably have over half the Inner Sphere too once this went out via ComStar) eating out of his hand as he laid out the events of The Sword and the Dagger with Ardan.
The shock of confronting the man who had just been on the stage with him.
Their failed attempt to escape.
The imprisonment and torture that he told in a matter-of-fact way as the conspiracy tried to extract key knowledge from him to refine their double, generating a great deal of distressed noises from the crowd who listened on in horror.
And he even sidetracked to speak about said double with sadness, regret and then rage - but rage directed solely at Maximilian Liao, with great sympathy for his double. And I understood that. Because I had made the stupid mistake during my debriefing years back of asking Quintus if I could see the reports on what NAIS had determined was done to said double after he came up in conversation. To make him so like Hanse to the point he had genuinely believed it.
That report had been pure high-octane nightmare fuel.
Anyway, a great cheer went up from the crowd as Hanse told how he and Ardan were busted out by the heroic Lance of Davion Guardsmen (who needs special forces when you had Mechwarriors after all?) before finishing with the race to confront the double and conspiracy ringleaders on New Avalon and the final defeat of the plot and assurances that the traitors had been executed while the heroes had been rewarded - and would be now publicly acknowledged as soon as practical.
Hanse then took the time after the applause had died down to stress in a matter-of-fact way just what damage the double had managed to do - and how much more he had barely been stopped from doing. The Galtor campaign had turned into a complete mess thanks to him being out of action; conveniently forcing Yvonne Davion to leave New Avalon and go sort things out personally by the time the double got back to the capital, keeping her out of the way of him getting settled in. The double had also openly declared to the Lyran Ambassador his intention to withdraw from not simply the Federated Commonwealth alliance, but all treaties with the Lyran Commonwealth - near declaring war on them, only the fact that Katrina and Melissa were already onto the conspiracy and had placed their trust in good ole Ardan had prevented a derailing of the whole FedCom accords! The arrest of several members of the privy council for a time (that had been successfully kept quiet by first the conspiracy and then Hanse and said Council) had gotten a shocked reaction from the more senior nobles around us, who had not heard anything about this (and pointedly made it clear that Max’s pawn would have moved against them) … it went on and on.
But the takeaway was that Maximilian Liao had come breathtakingly close to destroying the Federated Suns. Or at least to leaving it so weakened with internal strife and chaos the Confederation and Combine could have come walking right in.
Probably I thought grimly, with Michael Hasek-Davion making his move and starting a civil war, with both sides being puppeteered by Darth Sidious on Sian...
“In short, it became clear to myself and the Archon that, despite our hopes borne from her peace proposal, the Federated Commonwealth states would never be tolerated and allowed to live in peace by the Confederation and Combine” Hanse said (I did like the way he didn’t mention the Free Worlds League, an omission I’m sure that would be noted). “And while in my heart I had felt the Combine was the true enemy, only a fool turns to face the Samurai brandishing his sword while there is a dagger being held right at your back”.
There was a rumble of agreement and a wave of nodding at the turn of phrase (while I just rolled my eyes at the unsubtle if accurate reference to a certain book probably inserted just to screw with me) but couldn’t help but note it was an apt description...
“And today, I have the glorious news that we have taken a major step in dulling the edge on said dagger” Hanse continued with a full ‘Fox’ level smirk. “Four hours ago, I received world from Field Marshal George Powell that Tikonov, the most critical industrial world in the Capellan Confederation, now flies the flag of the Federated Suns!”
And just like that the roar, charged with the energy of a crowd who had been told how close to catastrophe their nation had come only to be told it had hit back in the most spectacular way, was back.
It continued for some time.
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You know, it might be another troll against me, but as Team Banzai kicked into the fourth of their nights ‘salute to the future of the 1980s’ with a very familiar song; I couldn’t really find it in my heart to care.
Because their cover of this song was awesome.
And from the way she was bopping along, Melissa seemed to agree.
“This is a very catchy song” Melissa confirmed that thought as Team Banzai started to sing while, before them, the vast sea of students bounced up and down in time with the music. “Reminds me a lot of the twenty-four hundreds electrofusion era…”
“We’re leaving together … but still it’s farewell…”
“This song is one of the very best of the 1980s … in my humble opinion” I agreed with a smile, leaving unsaid that I was arguably the only person in the universe who had any kind of authority to speak on such matters - having lived through said decade.
“And maybe we’ll come back … to Earth who can tell?...”
Or perhaps I was leaving it unsaid because it was really hard shouting over the noise of the music. NAIS has clearly found a way to dial it up to 12 instead of merely 11.
“I’m sure” Melissa yelled, clearly understanding the direction of my thoughts. “It has a good beat - you can really move to it …” she reflected, before turning and leaning over the balcony at the crowd (and despite the fact that the metal railing was certainly considerably more than merely ‘adequate’ to hold her and she wasn’t leaning that much, I still felt a wild terror in my chest as she did so. We had moved all the way up here after Hanse’s speech as, with Team Banzai coming out to play, things looked like they were going to get a little too party-happy down below. Instead, we had ascended to the Ultra-VIP level with most of the nobility; a large sort of lounge that circled the facility just under the roof which also had a balcony ‘inside’ looking over that main floor - that was mostly empty. Clearly few nobles desired to have their eardrums blasted by the noise ... or perhaps, they were politely protesting the very bourgeois music on offer by retiring to the soundproofed lounge.
If so, ****** them I snorted as BB declared this was, indeed, the Final Countdown. Or perhaps, I thought with a grim smirk, they are all still trying to come to terms with the revelations Hanse dumped on them? There certainly seemed to be an extremely large number of people skipping the wine for glasses containing hard liquor inside…
Anyway, the long and short was that we were about twelve stories above ground, just under the massive dome roof … and Melissa was leaning over the railing like a fascinated child. Wearing heels. And causing my body to produce considerable amounts of epinephrine. And as much as I kept reminding myself I was not Melissa's Father let alone a helicopter parent to an eighteen year old...
“Can you please not do that?” I finally yelled - and she just threw an amused look over her shoulder that said ‘seriously?’ without the slightest need for verbal communication. Or slightest care about how her body twisting like that seemed to unbalance her just a little more…
She has to be doing that on purpose to get a rise out of me.
...
Well, it was working!
But she took pity on me and clearly decided she had had enough fun at my expense, standing and backing away from the edge.
“You know” Melissa politely yelled at me, her face distant, “this is my first music concert that doesn’t involve a full orchestra?”
The surprise was apparently clear enough on my face that she nodded at me.
“I was restricted to classical concerts with Mother. Mostly because tradition had enough of the nobility attending that security was already tight” she said with a roll of her eyes that was like six different layers of teenage scoffing. “Where as she would NEVER have let me go incognito and it would have been a security nightmare to go publicly - and my experience there would be sitting in an armoured box away from everyone anyway…”
Pregnant Married Woman Archon-Designate or not, it was hard at times to forget how young she really was...
“By the time I was sixteen I swore if I had to sit through another running of Beethoven's first six symphonies I was going to have the national concert hall bulldozed when I took power. But this? This is fun - oh, that looks really fun!” she suddenly leaned over the railing again making my heart jump, but I bit my lip and leaned forward to try and see what had gotten her attention … nuts.
Ah. A few of the more enthusiastic and less upper class types were crowd surfing their way towards the side of the pit with enthusiastic support from the jumping mosh bit rocking to Team Banzai - and if Melissa thought for a nanosecond that she was going to be doing that-
“Oh stop jumping like that ‘pappy’” she yelled as she rolled her eyes, clearly reading my mind as she stood while Tommy on the drums banged through his bridge ... and BB strode up to the edge of the stage. The spotlight on him with a massive grin on his face … and let loose the legendary guitar solo.
There were a great many screams of delight from the crowd as he rocked out hard through the extended rift and I couldn’t help but bang along in time with the clapping from below that started below keeping time with the beat. And Melissa, if more reserved, gleefully joined in to bob her head along in time as the song came to its conclusion to a roaring adulation that honestly sounded louder than what Hanse had received from announcing Tinkonov had fallen. And with their final song sung, the Hong Kong Cavaliers took a bow together and moved offstage - and after a quick glance at each other, Melissa and I also took as our que to move off as well, striding towards the doors back into the VIP level beside which Kym was sulking in the shadows.
“I suppose I’d better get back to playing my part” Melissa sighed as we regrouped and headed through the doors and there was a very subtle shift in her body language as she mentally ‘put on’ her Katherine Marsden persona before the inner door opened and we walked into GAME OF THRONES - IN SPACE!
The horseshoe shaped lounge was impressive; with floor to ceiling mirror glass walls on both sides allowing those inside to see out but not vice versa and it had been built thick enough and soundproofed well enough that you couldn’t even hear the music from downstairs. A series of stand up bars divided both sides of the room all away around, serving the finest drinks and vastly more fancy food than had been offered downstairs (give me a bloody Slider anyday over a chunk of squid and odd sauces over a cracker!) while the outer wall provided a very charming view of the NAIS campus at night. A campus very well illuminated in fact, supposedly as sign of how the light of knowledge would never go out but really to make it easier to spot any Ninjas sneaking about.
Few people seemed to care about either view however.
They were gathered in clusters. Whispering and talking with wide eyes and frantic gestures and seemingly concentrated on a rather predictable topic; Hanse Davion being kidnaped and coming within a hair's breadth of being replaced by a Liao puppet. Kym and Melissa found themselves dragged into a group of couple of dozen minor members of the nobility from the Crucis March (Knights and Barons and the like). Probably mostly because eighty percent of them were young men struck dumb by their stunning beauty - although the clear wedding ring (not her real one but a gold band Hanse had given her for situations where a more subtle style was appropriate) kept people away from Melissa. And as a Countess among Knights and a few Barons, the clear rule was ‘you do not hit on her, she hits on you’ so it seemed the kids were eager to just see who they were dealing with and what may or may not be possible.
Seriously, I didn’t understand any of these rules - and I didn’t want to. Instead I kept back from the crowd waiting and watching for any threats - but then as was proven a short time later, I didn’t have any context to know what the hell a threat was.
Except people in robes. They luckily were not present. I think. Wonder if they would go home disapointed they hadn't run into Professor Greth Tefier, the lead scientist behind 'mum' as I called the HPG project they were still working at. I recalled from House Davions handbook that ComStar were at least broadly aware that HPG reserach was going on and it would be a considerable understatement to say they were not terribly happy about it, but had no real proof to confront House Davion about it.
They would probably be even more unhappy (as in Myndo screaming loudly enough to be heard from Terra) if they knew all the scientific data on all K/F technology from Helm had been delivered promptly to his team within a month of Helm and thanks to that, progress reports had been 'excellent' according to a smug Hanse. Man who after my own heart, clearly went to bed with happy thoughts each night of the day he would be able to turn to Quintus and say 'Execute order 66!', sending troops marching into every one of ComStars stations-
“Well well! My Lady Sorensen! What a surprise to see you here today?!” a newcomer said as he interjected himself and I snapped my attention back and away from happy dreams about Battlemechs marching in timed lockstep to John Williams 'Order 66 and the Jedi Temple' into the New Avalon HPG station, watching as the man stepped boldly not quite into Kyms personal space through the ring of people before looking her up and down in a way that didn’t endear him to me. At all. And clearly annoyed the young aristocrats who had been talking with Kym and Melissa - but after one look at him they quietly gave him the floor aside a little rather than protest.
Meaning whoever this guy was, he wasn’t a nobody. Making him … a somebody?
A half drunk somebody anyway I thought eying the mostly empty glass in his hand with the dregs of a golden liquid inside it..
“Count Vitios” Kym nodded in a friendly enough way but I could sense her wariness as she faced the man - and with very good reason given who she had just revealed who this was.
Count Anton Vitios was the man who had led the crusade to arrest and prosecute Justin Allard on charges of Treason - on falsified evidence - with him furious Justin had ‘escaped his just fate’ of being executed. Vitios had a loathing of the Capellan Confederation (and Justin as the son of a Capellan Noble was thus guilty of the loathsome crime of being a Capellan anyway) that was genuinely impressive, even by my standards. An emotional investment only matched by how much he yearned to kiss the ass of Michael Hasek-Davion, whom he thought was the greatest anti-Capellan noble around.
Of course, that begs the question of why he was here and not on New Sytris kissing said ass?
Because honestly, right now, Hasek-Davion needed all the help he could get. For a supposed political genius, he had been having a shocking time of it since he had headed home from Terra. First, he had gotten home a week late due to a highly convenient helium seal failure and a lack of any spare Jumpships heading his way, forcing him to wait for repairs to be made. Then on arriving, he had found masses of protesters outside his palace and all across the Capellan March demanding unequivocal support for this war against the Confederation.
Attempts by Michael to both try and play the loyal Davion while also not fully committing himself behind the attack on his Marches most hated enemy had only made him sound terribly indecisive - and based on the poll numbers I had seen, the Capellan March population were entirely unimpressed. While the polls in turn put even money on Hanse having a statue of him making his wedding toast going up on every damn world across the March...
If the polls were real or Hanse was taking a page out of The Bitches book I didn’t know and certainly didn’t ask - but in either event Hanse was not holding back. He had also mobilized a broad cross section of middle-level nobles, popular commentators and what amounted to 31st century ‘influencers’ ridiculing his brother in laws position and exhorting all True Sons of the Capellan March to give their full support to their glorious troops. Military commentators too took to the airwaves to laud the genius in Hanse’s strategy; that rather than launching out of the core of the Capellan March like Liao might have expected, Hanse was drilling down from the ‘top’ of the Confederation. Loudly proclaiming the sheer brilliance of GALAHAD to position his troops without anyone suspecting a damn thing and achieving incredible results thanks to the strategic surprise - clearly this was no impulsive move but a carefully constructed strategum reaching its conclusion yada yada...
Seriously, Rupert Murdoch would have been impressed with the way Hanse had seized the narrative and refused to let go. Even tonight, I realized in hindsight, had been at least in part targeted specifically to wreck the only thing that Michael’s puppets had been able to get cut through on; the fear that after taking some worlds around the Terran Corridor to open a path to the Lyrans, Hanse would declare victory and turn his full attention back to the Combine, leaving the Capellan March hanging in the breeze with a damaged but furious Confederation.
But after tonight?
After tonight, the only concern would probably be just how far Hanse was willing to go against the Liaos. Still, none of that explains why Michael's right hand is on New Avalon right now instead of busy on New Sytris jerking him off or something...
“A welcome home I think is in order, Countess” he grandly greeted her, waving his glass alarmingly but managing not to spill anyway.
I had to admit, he had a hell of a voice, mixing sneering and politeness in a way that reminded me greatly of Tom Hiddleston going full Loki.
Except, you know, drunk...
“The last I heard of you, why, weren't you on Solaris? Spreading your legs for Justin Allard ... oh I’m sorry, that’s Justin Xiang now isn’t it?” he said, his face twisting in an impressive way for a second as he didn’t quite spit out the name before a wild grin appeared on his face and he laughed at his joke as if it was hilarious. “Everyone's favorite traitor! Servant of the man who tried to replace our Prince!”
Okay, again I knew I was a complete novice at this whole Neo-Feudal court thing. Julia and the gang back on Sark had despaired at the fact that I clearly had zero knowledge or skill in etiquette and protocol around these things. Compared to them anyway, which I felt was a bit unfair given that almost all of them were scions of mid-to-high level nobles who had been trained from birth how to deal with courtly affairs. DD had almost gone nuts over how long it took me to learn how to tie a bow-tie properly - never had seen the man facepalm like that.
But.
I was still reasonably certain that out-and-out walking up to someone and calling them a slut sleeping with traitors was somewhat out of bounds of polite behaviour for these events. And from the shocked gasps and even one near spit take (fortunately back into the wine glass the poor lady was holding) the court agreed with my line of thought.
Kym however wasn’t someone easily intimidated despite her youth and relative inexperience.
“I never spread my legs for Justin, Anton” she replied in a tone that both chided him and suggested she was utterly unphased by his crude insult. Then she led the breathless silence hold for just a second longer than one might think before continuing with a tiny smirk. “Most of the time I was on top. A couple of times he took me from behind and one memorable time was up against the wall but I never spread my legs for him”.
Okay, we’re beyond ‘shots fired’ to ‘airstrike inbound’ I thought, in shock, glancing for a millisecond at Melissa - but she was simply watching this in what seemed to be genuine fascination.
Although I suppose the times she had been at Court, no-one would have dared act anything like this within two hundred meters like this of her or her mother...
“How creative of you” Anton finally managed to bluster with a sneer - and a large gulp of his drink. “So, you ****** the traitor in the bedroom, then he ****** you in the wallet after you brought him a Mech and dumped you!” he smirked like he had just scored the winning point in this little argument, ignoring the way the guests around him cringed, scowled and otherwise socially made their displeasure with him clear without saying anything. “I hope” *hickup* “your fun was worth it!”
I suppose it was a fair enough point of view of those in the room who didn’t know what I, Kym and Melissa did. Kym had been nominally sleeping with the enemy after all and I didn’t know how she was going to get out of-
“More or less” Kym shrugged, continuing in amused indifference, almost like a cat playing with a mouse.
Okay, she clearly had this.
“Frankly I had hoped for far better efforts from from Wolfson and Philip Capets people. Suffice to say, Justin was entirely right about their skills. Even with the Prince offering them a planet and Justin's Autocannon…” Kym paused and smiled to herself as if in some private joke, “unfortunately jamming at a critical moment, Wolfson was nowhere near good enough to turn the tide. A pity really.”
The gaggle that had formed around us hissed in no small amount of shock at that statement - even more, to my amusement, than her explicit descriptions of exactly how she and Justin had bonked each other’s brains out.
After all, casually talking about sex positions in a Court event was one thing … but the suggestion that Kym might have rigged a Solaris match and destroyed the purity of the glorious Mechwarrior on Mechwarrior combat?
Shocking, just shocking I say!
“Wait … are you … are you saying that you sabotaged the Mech you brought him-” Anton babbled in confusion through his tispy haze - but Kym shut him up with a look.
“I didn’t say any such thing” she scolded him with a chiding tone and for a brief moment I knew he caught, a deadly serious flash in her eyes. “All I said was that Wolfson proved to be a horribly inadequate Mechwarrior. Traitor or not traitor, Justin is without the slightest question an exceptional Mechwarrior. And he was not terribly happy with the … quality … of his second hand machine and, accordingly, I parted ways with him after his match with Wolfson.”
Many of the people around us were staring at Kym with wide eyed looks as she casually didn’t quite suggest she had seduced Justin for the express purpose of arranging his death. If not for the fact that Natasha Kerensky would (and had) defended her trademark with hyper-violence, I know what some people would have been thinking of calling her right now...
Personally, I couldn’t help but be mildly impressed. If this was what was was run with on Solaris, it would certainly have helped both his cover and provide yet more justification for his happy acceptance of a position with Maximilian Liao himself to get revenge. That his girlfriend hadn’t simply been a Davion spy, but had apparently tried very hard to stage a fight where he would die at the hands of a ‘glorious’ Federated Suns champion, destroying Justin's defiance and legacy just as much as the man himself…
On the face of it, it sounded so much like something The Fox would do to eliminate a ‘pest’ like Justin that people like Tsen Shang would no doubt have delighted in the failure, driving Justin into their arms without any work necessary.
I also ‘knew’ that it wasn’t the truth - it seemed canon was running on rails there for reasons I really didn’t want to look into with his AC/20 failing (guess they brought the same Mech I’m guessing it was a repair or refurb flaw neither of them had been told about by Quintus) - and Justin was just that ****** good that with only two Medium lasers to his name, he had taken on a Mech 10 tons his senior and brutally ripped it to piece.
But as far as House Liao was concerned, that Justin won despite his Father and/or the Fox trying to get rid of him at the hands of a ‘Federated Suns Champion’?
It was a plan worthy of the Fox - whose failure they would take maximum advantage of.
Without realizing that that was in fact Hanse Davions plan all along. Mwahahahaha!
Anton however just gaped like a fish in the way his mouth open and closed, clearly struggling to keep up with the turns this conversation had taken and how deeply he had dug himself into a hole with his brain somewhat mushy. But he was relieved of any need to think when a six foot two mass of muscle in Davion green seemed to somehow materialize out of the crowd to slap a hand on his shoulder.
Anton almost fell over from the blow and with a snarl on his face he turned on instinct to let loose at whoever had dared to do that … and predictably said absolutely nothing as he saw just who that was.
Then he swallowed and tried again in a tone probably significantly more respectful than he had been planning to use.
“My Lord Hasek-Davion” he said … then hiccuped … and seemed to cringe to the point of getting shorter under the look Morgan was giving him.
Bloody hell. I’ve seen Assault Mechs that looked less intimidating than Morgan did right now.
“Count Vitios” Morgan stated flatly. “You’re drunk”.
The Count hiccuped again instead of replying and with a sigh, Morgan stepped back, snorting in disgust, not quite dragging him into the arms of two ‘servants’ with a flick of his mighty wrist.
“Take the Count somewhere to sleep this off” Morgan ordered them and with a nod the two men (even bigger than Morgan) took a firm hold of Vitios’s arms and didn’t quite frogmarch him away towards the exit. Morgan shot a final glare at the mans back that must have really been something from the way people looking from that direction shuddered and looked away before he shook his head to wipe the attitude away. Turning instead to face Kym and stepping up to her, his face becoming far more friendly (almost to the point of being bashful) as he took her half extended hand and kissed it gently.
“My Lady” Morgan addressed her as he offered a bow. “My deepest apologies on behalf of the Capellan March and our host for the Counts appalling behavior. Clearly he has had far too much to drink, and I promise you he will be appropriately chastised - when he is sober enough to appreciate it.”
It was all so very dashing and Knight in shining armor from perhaps the ultimate example of that stereotype the Federated Suns had. And I could see a lot of ladies of the court who had drifted in with Morgan moving this way silently sigh and stare longingly, hold a hand on their chest … or otherwise just politely glare in unrepentant envy at Kym as Morgan unleashed his maximum gallantry on the stunning young woman instead of them.
“My Lord Hasek-Davion, my Thanks” Kym finally replied - and God strike me down if she wasn’t actually blushing just a tad. Nor was she seeming to be in any rush to let go of his hand … and Morgan didn’t seem to have a problem with that either. Which was exactly what one would expect of a young woman getting the personal attention of the the Federated Suns most eligible bachelor - and thus might have been put down to a MIIO agent playing her part for those in the know...
It wasn’t.
Melissa (who was subtly smirking like Palpatine doing his ‘everything that has transpired has done so according to my design!’ thing right now from the side) had put in considerable effort to ensure she had total control of the rudder on the Good Ship Kym+Morgan.
No seriously - Melissa clearly thought she needed a project to occupy her time and it seemed she had chosen Morgan and Kym. Whom she had organised the onboarding of them both into the biggest secret of the Federated Commonwealth (aka me), dealt Morgan’s understandable … issues … with the revelations about his father smoothly and with enormous empathy and subtlety organised for Kym and Morgan to start getting in close proximity to each other (by BOTH beating me up on the ****** training room floor!)
And after the initial awkwardness and ice breaking had come them chatting and laughing about their original history and future like it was all a big joke. Kym doing wonders with her smile and spirits (and sparing; have to admit to vindictive pleasure when she came off second best to Morgan a few times) to help lift Morgan out of his perhaps slightly too focused escape of ‘duty, duty and more duty’ post revelations.
Then came the two of them ‘hanging’ without the rest of us around at NAIS. Totally casually and not meaning anything, right?
Then they had gone to beat each other up in Battlemech simulators, which was almost like a 31st century example of ‘coming over to help with homework’ as while Kym was a qualified Mechwarrior, it was hardly her key skill set and of course she would take advantage of Morgan’s galant offer to help sharpen her skills, right?
…
I honestly found their continued insistence that they were just friends having a good time increasingly hilarious and eye roll worthy as time passed, as Morgan smiled more and more, as Kym’s MIIO mask seemed to slip off more and more...
Melissa broke the moment before it got socially unacceptable with a polite cough behind her fist and Morgan smoothly turned to face her, only a tiny twitching of the hand that Kym had just been holding betraying his emotions.
“And you my Lady, I do apologise for the appalling display by a senior noble of the Capellan March you were forced to witness” Morgan offered a surprisingly perfect Lyran style bow with a click of his heals and all.
Again came the mix of sighs and glares from the women in close proximity.
“No apologies necessary My Lord - Argyle Scotch is a hell of a drink … and I’ve seen far worse when I visited the Royal Court at the Triad anyway” Melissa giggled sweetly, earning a bark of a laugh from Morgan and a sycophantic chuckle from the crowd in turn.
“You are far too kind and gracious My Lady” Morgan smiled. “But I must insist on making up to you for this unpleasantness” he said, as his face brightened with a sudden grin. “Now, I do recall when we spoke earlier tonight you mentioned you both hoped for a chance to meet Doctor Banzai? Well he has finished his sets for tonight and I was just about to go downstairs and have a word with him. So if you and the Countessa would like to tag along I would be delighted to introduce you?”
“Really!” Melissa almost squeaked in shock, exactly like the Gods knows how many fangirls he had running after him, blissfully unaware that BB was in a very serious relationship already. “You’re serious?”
“Always” Morgan grinned.
Melissa paused long enough to shoot an adorable look at Kym, like a kid begging her big sister to let her pet the puppy and with a smile, Kym nodded and that was that, the three of us falling in with Morgan and his bodyguards as we made our way through the crowd. From my place a little back I caught looked directed at our group that ran from ‘All of my hate to you’ and ‘Oh God isn’t he dreamy and so wonderful…’ and ‘OMG she gets BB and MHD?!’
Mostly though I was frowning inside. While Morgan might enjoy playing white knight to Kim, taking us down to see BB seemed like little more than an in character reason to get us clear of the crowd with him…
I kept my mouth shut like a good drone though as the lift dropped us to sub-level 4, the underground secure garage. The lift doors opened - and I stepped out into enough bodyguards to know Hanse had to be around here somewhere … ah, there. He was standing next to a painfully young looking Captain in the uniform of the Davion Guards with a briefcase attached to his arm via a handcuff (yes they still did that apparently) and Hanse gestured us over.
“What happened?” Melissa asked, ‘Katherine Marsden’ vanishing into nothing as she stepped forward to her husband.
“Nothing local” Hanse immediately said as he too stepped up to Melissa, the two holding hands for a moment. “But we’ve just gotten some news from the Draconis March that needs attention. We need to head home and everyone except you Agent Sorensen - you can take the rest of the night off - tomorrow too for that matter”.
“Thank You Sir!” Kym snapped a salute Hanse returned with aplomb and we all started moving for the car.
I however felt more than a little nervous right now though. Kym had been due to legally beat the crap out of me tomorrow...why was Hanse standing her down?
-
*
****
*******
****
*
The answer to that question was delivered half an hour later, after I sat down at the ‘Adults Table’ deep inside the Fox’s Den.
The ‘Den was a massive subterranean complex built deep underneath Mount Davion serving as both the primary strategic command centre for the Federated Suns and the main planetary command post for New Avalon. It had been built in the 1st Succession War when the DCMS got a little too close to New Avalon and everyone on the planet belatedly realized they didn’t actually have a secure command post proof against orbital fire or infiltration by enemy special forces.
I had been diverted after our arrival into a side chamber where an orderly had helpfully laid out a duty uniform and I hastily switched clothes before hurrying to rejoin the party in one of the numerous secure briefing rooms. As the door was closed behind me I resisted the urge to swallow, instead snapping to attention. Hanse, of course, was at the head of the table with Yvonne Davion on his right and Quintus Allard to his left with Ardan at his side while Morgan was next to Melissa - who had dumped the wig she had worn and ditched the contacts that had hidden her distinctive grey eyes. Morgan was also at the table and I tried not to wilt as everyone looked up at me as I started to salute-
“Stand easy John, have a seat” he said and I immediately went to a higher state of alert. Hanse cutting in and pre-empting my salute like said that he wanted this meeting informal and friendly.
A snap meeting in the Fox’s Den …
Annoyingly mixed messaging really, I thought as I sat down at the closest chair, next to Morgan. On one hand I had been rushed to the Fox’s Den of all places ... and on the other I was being told to take it casually?
“John I’ll come straight to the point” Quintus was the one to start, his gaze locking in on me and making me have to again fight the urge to squirm. “Four hours ago we received a priority message from Sakhara that four Combine Jumpships materialized at a transit point inside the orbit of Hathor and popped enough dropships for two full Regiments of Mechs.”
The words were perfectly clear … but they … didn't make sense. Which book did this happen in again?
“... on the timestamps, they would have landed two hours ago and the initial burn track strongly suggested they were heading for Sakhara Academy” Ardan continued in a grim tone, the wall screens flipping through a handful of long-range stills from orbital surveillance satellites according to the legends, the bulbus orbs of Unions and Overlords distinctive. “Imagery has confirmed the lead Dropships belong to the Genyosha - but DMI have confirmed the trailers, while bearing Genyosha insignia, are Dropships originally assigned to the Ryuken corps...”
...no...this … this never happened.
“... is that they are the final survivors from Misery rebuilt into a second Genyosha regiment by Yorinaga Kuritas people while he was on Terra…”
From an external frame of reference, John Smith was probably sitting there stoically. Listening to the report. Or at least seemed to be.
In reality, my mind was stuck in an infinite loop. And I felt as if someone had whacked me in the back of the head with a two-by-four, stunned beyond the ability to gather a coherent thought.
This never happened in the original timeline I pieced the thought together as I stared at the dropships burning hard for Sakhara. Which meant...
My friends in classes at the academy when the General Alarm suddenly went off. Confusion giving way to barely controlled chaos as drills were put into action, the staff hastily evacuating the younger cadets to secure dispersion sites around the planet while the far, far too ****** brave senior cadets mounted up with the instructors to defend the place. Scared but angry and confident in the way green troops were … only to be swept aside like children on a beach in the face of the tsunami that was the Genyosha. With an invisible Warhammer in the lead casually strolling through them all as frantic fire reached out and refused to touch it until it turned its guns at me-
“...John?” suddenly it occured me someone was saying my name and I seemed to snap back and shake off the dizzying feeling … to see everyone was looking at me.
“...I” I started then paused and bit my inner cheek, hard, embracing the spike of pain to centre myself before clearing my throat. “Sorry, I didn’t quite get that?” I managed, trying to not think my face was flushing in embarrassment.
Crack up on your own time Smith I scolded myself even as I reeled from the news and had to feircly fight the urge to want to find a room and scream. Right now; focus.
“I was just saying that you don’t need to be here - we just thought you should hear it from us directly” Quintus said, his gaze level and not judging in any way.
But I’d be damned if I fell to pieces. The dead would wait, the living had to be worried about first.
“Thank you Sir - I’m fine” I replied and with a fierce mental effort, shoved everything to the side. “Okay. Sakhara is several jumps from the border - Kurita must have used uninhabted systems to make his trip?” I guessed and there were several cautious nods around the table at that. “Okay. So, if he’s willing to risk that, he could have kept going deeper into the Federated Suns and hit a bigger target. Why stop at Sakhara of all places?”
“He might be willing to risk a few jumps to get past the border, but the deeper he goes the greater the risk he could lose one or more of his ships in an uninhabited system - or deep space for that matter if he chooses to charge off his fusion drives” Ardan pointed out. “Sakhara is a good place to emerge, recharge and make contact through ComStar back home. And while it's not a big military target, there are a lot of very senior nobles scions at the academy and supplies to raid…and if he is looking for a high profile attack to pull units off the border after him, it’s ideal.”
“But why go past the border at all?” I protested. “The Genyosha are crack troops, probably the best Takashi has got. And what's left of the Ryuken are just about as good - and will integrate easily - especially with Yorinaga in command” I pointed out, thinking furiously as I stared up at the large star map showing the Draconis March clearly. “They could have turned the tide in any number of engagements…”
In the original timeline, the Genyosha had been given an enormous amount of latitude to engage as Yorinaga saw fit in his single minded quest to find, face and kill Morgan Kell. Probably because as they ran around trying to find him, they kept destroying pretty much every unit stupid enough to get in their way. But with Patrick Kell and the Hounds having knocked off Theodore Kurita months back (even if the news was only going public today) they had their target - especially as Morgan had probably rejoined the unit not that long after Patrick had made himself public enemy #1 for the DCMS.
Hell, given how badly the Lyran theatre was going for the Combine, this unit SHOULD be over there desperately trying to buy time for the DCMS to regroup! Yet here they were in the Draconis March, having swiped the Ryuken from under MIIOs noses to buff themselves into a two Regiment strike force … and hit Sakhara?!
Why?
“Please don’t take this as ego” I said as I took a breath as a thought occurred, “but could-”
“-they be looking for you?” Quintus finished the thought with a slightly wry smile. “We considered it, but it's unlikely. Not impossible, but the ISF are competent. If they knew who you are and were willing to send two regiments of troops to kill or extract you, they’d know you left Sakhara a considerable time ago” he pointed out in a matter of fact way.
It didn't really help me avoid the horrific feeling that I had brough this battle to my friends as I continued to just feel a crawling numbness at this news.
“In the original timeline” Melissa stepped into the tense silence with a thoughtful expression on her face as she delicitly tried to push past, “Yoringa was obsessed with Morgan Kell. But they’ve already had their showdown really, haven’t they?”
“Correct, My Lady” Quintus noted. “Kurita approached Morgan during the fight on Styx - he seemingly thought his not being targeted was a gesture of safe passage rather than standing orders not to bother trying to engage him issued by Patrick Kell. He approached the Kell Brothers but before he could open communications he was hit with a NARC missile beacon system Katrina had provided Daniel Allard, who successfully landed a hit at point blank range. At that point, the Kell brothers and their command company hammered him with an LRM barrage sufficient to force Yorinaga to eject and his unit to retreat in complete disarray. He did confront Morgan on Terra about the events, but Morgan made it clear he considered their business concluded. That when he came out of exile for the single purpose of trying to kidnap…” his eyes now glanced back at Melissa with a slight smile “...you, he ceased being an ‘honorable’ opponent worthy of a duel and was now in Kells eyes nothing more than a bandit who would try to snatch the only child of one of his closest friends. And accordingly, would be treated as such on the field of battle”.
Okay, that surprised me just a bit. And had to have been Patrics doing.
After all he would have died there in the original timeline, a fact he knew full well. Morgan had very much been 100% into the whole ‘destiny’ thing about facing Kurita, so it made sense that Patrick (with a bit of forewarning) had instead decided on dealing with him in a somewhat more direct way with good old fashioned cheasy SLDF Bullshit.
Perhaps my sneering at the Phantom Mech threat on Tharkad had actually done some good … and driven Kurita away from his obsession (but focused obsession) with Morgan Kell into attacking my friends to start a rampage against the Federated Suns that would be far more damaging?
Nice ****** work Smith I snarled to myself before shaking it off again almost physically and focusing.
Okay. Yorinaga’s vendetta with Morgan had started when the Kell Hounds had shown up and shoved him ‘ruined’ his triumph over Ian Davion. Because rather than accept the honor of having slain the First Prince of the Federated Suns in honorable combat, the ****** thought he was a failure because he hadn’t been able to go full Brad-Pitt Achilles, dragging Ian Davion back to Luthien to be hoisted up as a trophy-
…
Could it actually be that simple? Mallory's World?
“Mallory’s World? You think he is heading there?” Morgan replied, cutting through the chatter around the rest of the table and drawing attention back on me and I blinked, then quickly shook my head as I realized I must have spoken aloud..
“Literally? No. That would be suicide given how most of the AFFS is only a few jumps away right now. But…” I paused for a moment to try and pull my thoughts together. “I mean, let's think back. Yorinaga’s whole obsession with Kell started when he was a Battalion Commander in the 2nd Sword. He killed Ian Davion on Mallory’s World” - and I couldn’t help but glance at Hanse, cringing a little inside as I brought up what had to be a very sore subject.
His expression however was pure professionalism and encouraged by that, I kept going.
“... which should have been the greatest point in his career. but Yorinaga considered the victory flawed because rather than be satisfied with victory in an honorable duel, he was obsessed with grabbing Ian’s body and dragging it back to Luthien to place before the Coordinators feet. That plan was ruined when the Kell Hounds crashed in and drove his unit off, recovering Ian’s body and leaving him empty handed. Yorinaga was still promoted and honored by Takashi as a hero but Yorinaga considered himself disgraced by the Hounds intervention. So he became determined to avenge himself on the Hounds. Then when he finally got his rematch with Morgan, he was defeated by Morgan rules lawyering Combine tradition alongside his use of the Phantom Mech and exiled by his cousin after he withdrew rather than press the attack with the rest of his unit. He was formally denied the right to 'atone' " - and I hope I was putting enough scorn in my voice for what I thought about slicing yourself open to 'correct' a mistake - "for his failures, left to obsess about it for years until he finally gets his second chance against Morgan. Who just refused him a duel and declared his side of the fued done on the grounds of him lacking the honor for a duel. A big deal for someone who is literally holding his swords, figurativly his honor. So, what’s left for him then?” I asked as I groaped my way towards the point, looking around the room. “If he’s going to try and reclaim his honor, looking past Morgan-”
“You think he’s coming for the First Prince” Yvonne cut off my long winded speech with the sharpness of a knife and breathtaking bluntness (and accuracy) as she skipped to my conclusion, her eyes sharp as knives. “Coming here”.
I simply nodded.
“We came to much the same conclusion” Yvonne frowned mightily - and on reflection, I decided trying to teach the Grandmother of the AFFS to suck eggs was probably not a good idea.
The DCMS took after Imperial Japan from the Second World War in a lot of ways (bad ways that is). Hell, the Kuritas claimed descent from Takeo Kurita, the commander of the Centre Force at the Battle of Leyte Gulf who had tried to (yet again) apply the delusional belief that if the IJN could just force one critical decisive action, they could yet turn the tide of the war around. All it needed was fighting spirit, audacity and crazy levels of reality warping …
And now it seemed that Yorinaga had embraced the same crazy as his ancestor. Charging past the border on a one way trip to try and win the war in a single decisive battle...
Everyone in the room now followed the Champions gaze to the massive wall mounted map of the Inner Sphere and with a casual wave of her hands on her controls, it zoomed out and refocused to show New Avalon at the bottom and the Draconis border at the top, troop concentrations marked with tiny unit logos, inhabited systems with golden dots and dead/abandoned/uninhabted systems with black dots.
And now it became clear that Yorinaga actually had a chance - a slim one but a real one - to pull this off. The map making it painfully clear how weak the interior of the Crucius March was right now with the bulk of units normally on station busy ripping the CCAF to pieces over yonder...
“It’s six jumps and two, perhaps two and a half months, minimum, to New Avalon. If he takes the most direct route” she observed.
Not even having to run any calculations or ask the computer - literally just looking at the map and eyeballing it. Man she was good.
“If he’s stopping to hit soft targets on the way and is willing to go a little out of his way ... it could easily double that.”
“Stopping to hit targets would also let him check in via ComStar and the ISF” Ardan pointed out with a scowl at the map. “He could get updated target lists, warnings about us moving units to counter him…”
“I’ll cut orders for all stations within two jumps of his known location to monitor any known ISF cells or be on the lookout for unusual activity around HPGs” Quintus agreed after a moment of reflection. “If we’re very lucky, the ISF will trigger a compromised cell and we’ll get a heads up”.
He didn’t sound terribly hopeful of that happening though.
Silence came across the table again as everyone regarded the map.
“We could pull the Light Horse back and send them after him?” Morgan finally suggested, looking at the Light Horse insignia on Royal which flashed to highlight its position, where they had been shifted forward by the Archduke. “It’s exactly the kind of work they are best at…”
“And that is, exactly, what I’m sure Takashi is hoping we’ll do” Hanse observed, silencing the table as he spoke up for the first time since I had sat down. “Pull them off the border and backstopping the units fighting there to give him better odds? No, Yorinaga might be coming for me, but he might also take a right turn and head straight for Robinson - or even double back to hit the Dragoon’s from one direction while more units hit them from across the border. So we won't make any rash calls. We have a little time to consider our next move … I’ll run this by high command in the morning once we’ve had a nights sleep.”
Everyone nodded at that - except for me, because I couldn’t help but think there was on thing they had all forgotten.
“And … Sakhara?” I asked in a small tone as I stared at the black-ocean insignia defiantly sitting on its marker - and the entire table looked at me, their faces grim and not even bothering to hide it.
Hanse at least looked me dead straight in the eyes unflinchingly. With the empathy of a man who had so many times had to watch troops he sent out fight and die from a long distance, but unflinchingly none the less, I’d give him that.
“Pray for them John. That’s all we can do”.
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If anything drove home for me the difference between wars on Earth back home and wars here, it was waiting around on New Avalon able to do nothing but pace as the reports started coming out of Sakhara over the next few days. Starting at ‘bad’ and moving steadily to ‘grim’ - and then horrific.
Couldn’t the DCMS start one ****** campaign against the Federated Suns without defaulting to war crimes?
Granted the last part wasn’t really Yorinaga’s fault, much as I wanted to blame him. Unlike most of the DCMS who wouldn’t have batted an eye - or simply looked away and told themselves they could do nothing; he had rapidly stepped in and had his troops shoot the ISF infantry who had kept to DCMS traditions of invading the Suns by executing a whole hanger full of POWs. He had also personally beheaded the head of his ISF detachment - and it had not been an honourable atonement - and arranged for the survivors to be shipped under a flag of truce to the nearby major hospitals before his troops had packed up and left.
Perhaps understandably, the Federated Suns media wasn’t ignoring his stepping in like that, but they were rather downplaying them in favour of pointedly blaming him for bringing the ISF to the Suns in the first place. And all I could do was wait. And wait. And wait some more. Hurry up and Wait was something taken to a whole new level in Battletech.
Well that and destroy several punching bags, find sealed soundproof rooms to scream in anger as I vented and otherwise just rage that thanks to changes I had made to the timeline, now I was getting the bad to go with the good. That I certinally wasn't a God or 'writing' this story; that the enemy always got a vote and that for all people could point to the far more successful Lyran front or the Capellans getting torn to even more small pieces than in the original timeline or the fact that the Free Worlds League still hadn't jumped into the war with enormous pressure on the Captian General to stay the hell out of it after Davion had gone public with the Liao usurpation attempt, with no small number of provinces reported to be very quietly and conveniently massing Jumpships in a way that totally was not going to be used to attack the Capellan Confederation, no sir!
Call me a selfish SOB, but when the conformation came from Sakhara that most of my class had died either fighting off the overwhelming attack, or, had been gunned down casually by the ****** ISF after a week of sleepless nights...
Back on Earth, information could get to any member of the human race in a matter of seconds from almost anywhere on the planet. Military force (at least in the case of the major powers) could be put on the ground around the globe inside a day. Strategic aircraft could stage around the world to start lobbying cruise missiles against targets in hours and if you really wanted to escalate things, you could wipe out an appreciable fraction of the human race in thirty minutes or less if the ballistic missiles started launching...
But that wasn’t Battletech. The sheer logistics and time it took to do anything here was hammered home to me now more than ever before. There were people who I cared - had cared I suppose - about in much more than an abstract way on that planet … and all I had been able to do after they pressed the panic button was wait and listen for the next update. The DCMS had committed two regiments of Elites in this attack and a force concentration to take them on simply did not exist and even if it did, we didn’t have any jumpships to get them there in time to do a damn thing!
All I could do was wait as the reports came in, reading them I stunned shock as I mentally shrugged off every attempt by Morgan, Melissa, Ardan and even Hanse to note this was not my fault.
Time however waited for no-one and the months rolled on painfully slowly in a crazy bubble of normality (for a given value of that) as the war waged on. Broadly as I recalled from canon but with a few more surprises other than the Genyosha starting a Kamakazi run at New Avalon. For example, the Michael Hasek-Davion situation was ended in January of 3028 … without Michael running off to Sian to be executed by Justin.
Or more specifically, with Michael trying to run to Sian, only to find his Jumpship was under new management courtesy of a strike team led by one Major Jackson Davion of the Crushers who was pleased to escort Michael Hasek-Davion to New Avalon where his brother in law wanted an ‘urgent word’ with him...
The outcome of those meetings and the public announcements in the first week of 3029 by the two men, side by side, was still sending shockwaves through the Capellan March - to say nothing of the number of mid and senior military commanders in Capellan March Command who were suddenly deciding to take early retirement or accept transfers to new positions as Yvonne Davion with a slightly evil looking smile on her face went to work ripping out root and stem all of Michael's people and promoting and transferring pre-selected and trusted people in their place.
But as amusing a distraction as it was to think about the look on Maximilian Liaos face at Michael being unwillingly ‘flipped’ against him, the Genyosha continued to zig and zag their way towards New Avalon. They had indeed made a quite creative diversionary stab at Robinson; jumping in and burning for the planet … but covering only about a quarter of the distance before suddenly flipping over, burning to a halt by about the halfway mark and returning to their jumpships and jumping onwards to Dewitt. The ‘fakeout’ tactic was suspected to have been an attempt to flush any ‘hovering’ reinforcements in a few jumps away. Forcing anyone waiting to jump to do so if they were going to get to Robinson in time to intercept.
A clever move ... but ultimately pointless as we didn’t have anything chasing them.
My suggestion for stopping them had been more indirect. Scrape together enough Zero-G light infantry and a couple of dropships from somewhere to drop in after Kurita hit a planet and disable or capture his Jumpships. Trapping him on a planet far behind the lines to be dealt with at our leisure, but it seemed that option was firmly off the table. A ‘diplomatic note’ from the Combine in the aftermath of Yvonne playing ‘Grand Theft Jumpship’ had first demanded the return of the jumpships stolen from the DCA but had more pointedly made it clear that any further actions along these lines would have serious consequences to the Inner Sphere that they felt didn’t need to be spelled out.
No-one wanted the DCMS or CCAF to start blowing up jumpships in retaliation, that kind of activity would spin out of control faster than a Stingers Gyro. And so until such time as the Jumpships were sitting completely unguarded over New Avalon with the troops who had been using them all dead, my plan was a non starter.
In any event, Hanse had refused to commit the ELH to a futile stern chase that may or may not be able to catch them before New Avalon. Instead, he had doubled down on his existing plans; sending in the ELH to clean up on Klathandu IV and Breed while deploying the 71st Light Horse Regiment along with the 10th DLC to hit and reclaim Paris for the Suns. A political gesture as much as a strategic one, making sure the Draconis March didn’t think he had forgotten about them. And that Hanse wasn’t going to sacrifice them for the sake of his Capital. The local Combine militia offered only token resistance as Davion and Sandoval looked to to consolidate their hold around Galtor, scraping up enough ships to move in conventional units to establish a firm presence while on the other side of the Galtor Thumb, Wolf’s Dragoons (or Wolves Dragoons as some in the know were now calling them quietly) were getting increasingly impatient. They were still sitting on Crossing, waiting for Takashi to send people to play with them, but he had seemed to rage-quit his little deathmatch with them, screaming ‘HAX!’ at their Pay To Win lostech mechs ...
Heh, reminded me of a couple of bad drops in Mechwarrior online where I had done exactly that against ****** Clanners...
Indeed, the lack of follow up Attacks against the ‘goons from the Combine was a bit worrying. MIIO had been watching carefully as a multi-regiment task force assembled on Marlowe's Rift around the slowly rebuilding 8th Sword of Light … and then it had vanished in November. Packing up and jumping deeper into the Combine, appearing briefly at a jump point on Kawabe before vanishing again. The best guess from MIIO was that Takashi had recalled that task force to make haste to the Lyran border as it finally dropped on him that the Lyrans were playing for keeps, relying on the Genyosha deep strike to force Hanse in turn to pull units back … but neither MIIO or LIC had any indicators one way or the other. And if by the new year nothing had happened, hanse had promised Wolf that he could deploy at his discretion along the Combine/Suns border to go looking for trouble.
In any event, Hanse’s focus on pressing (read; dismembering) the Confederation meant the Genyosha had a clean shot to New Avalon - so long as they kept moving and keep moving they did. They were just about ready to jump out of Kirklin in fact, which would put them only a single jump from New Avalon itself. The raid there had been the first really serious clash they had been in and it had been conducted with Kuritas depressing tactical skill. First, sending one of his Regiments to tie down the militia holding the capital while he himself led his own unit in a surprise attack against the Kallon Industries facilities, with ISF agents having quietly sabotaged the early warning radars to let his ships sneak in far closer than he should have been able to. Despite a spirited defense, the corporate security troops had been pushed back firmly to the final defensive fortifications around the key factories themselves … which was apparently all the DCMS troops had wanted as they secured the spaceport outside the campus and called in their dropships, loaded up a pretty significant amount of cargo from the warehouses there before the entire force had left the planet in a great hurry.
Apparently, they had raided the place for material to repair and refit for their final run on New Avalon - or so said the press who also wasted little time in sneering at them as little more than Pirates. Hanse apparently thought they had been after something else, but had been annoyingly cryptic - even for him - when I asked him what that might be. But whatever the case, it was clear what was left of the two units -roughly one and two thirds regiments of Mechs with most of a wing of Aerospace fighters and a battalion of armor- would probably be fully repaired and operational when the final stand came on New Avalon.
Something that didn’t make me terribly happy.
And I wasn’t alone in that.
More than a few people who had cheered the war loudly and proudly were now bitching over the fact that the war was coming straight to them and that Hanse Davion seemed disinclined to throw everything he could in the path of this attack to stop it away from the capital - as he should!
The public slapdown from Hanse on that attitude had been Patrick Stewart Speech worthy.
Rebuking anyone who seemed to think that the very beating heart of the Federated Suns would show less courage, determination or will than border words that had thrown back the Combine and Confederation for century after century; a textbook example of how shame and pride in a martial culture could be highly useful levers to pull and push. Even reframing the threat to note so much the better that two of the most dangerous Combine units in the DCMS were happy to ‘vanish’ into the Federated Suns and die here. That the entire Federated Suns was watching as were their Lyran allies and Concord enemies - and if the Capital itself was found wanting, the shame that would be upon them all…
And so RAT continued on schedule, without any units pulled back as Liao and Kurita had probably hoped. A slice of the war was now almost on New Avalon's doorstep and a planet never attacked in the Succession Wars for all its glorification of war was a sea of nervous energy as preparations were made. Hanse and Melissa had also had their first fight of their marriage when the unstoppable force crashed into the immovable object as Melissa flatly refused to leave with a careful selection of senior officers and politicians for Markesan to setup an alternate command post should things go badly wrong
Yeah, no surprise who had won that argument. If Ardan had still been on the planet instead of heading off to Tikonov, he probably would have flatly told Hanse not to do something so stupid as that. But, as Hanse was so fond as saying, sometimes true lessons had to be learned ‘the hard way…’
But while I could understand how worried Hanse was for Melissa, it wasn’t as if the planet was in critical danger. The planet had three line Mech regiments with plenty of supporting forces - two of whom rated as Elite. The New Avalon Crucis March Militia RCT (plus their conventional forces) were decent troops - and had a lot of hardware, all modern and well maintained. Team Banzai were excellent (although I couldn’t help but remember how in the original timeline the Genyosha had torn them to pieces - and I was sure BB was thinking much the same). And then there was Morgans ‘Davion Honor Guard’ who were elite to a person and fanatic in their loyalty, even before Morgan had been put in charge and spent most days vigorously drilling and pushing them as hard as he pushed himself.
Throw in two dozen mechanized infantry regiments with tank support from the planetary militia, all fully manned and equipped with the latest production run from the factories and a solid core of semi-retired veterans for officers and NCOs and we were certainly not lacking for hardware or bodies.
Of course, both the March Militia and planetary militia units were scattered across the planet around key strategic targets and cities rather than concentrated. Team Banzai had a battalion at the NAIS backing the static defenses leading another battalion of senior cadets (who had been drilling non stop the last few weeks) while NAIS executed its contingecy plans to offsite backup everything, evacuate all staff and load up a lot of the ‘hotter’ items into three specialized dropship that had vanished into deep space. Banzai’s other two battalions were across on Brunswick with Tommy, covering the massive industrial complexes there while Morgans troops the key; already loaded onto Dropships and ready to make a suborbital burn. When Kurita committed himself, they would go full Blood Ravens ‘Steel Rain’ on their asses, with Banzai and the New Avalon Militia following as soon as they could to drown their LZ in Mechs. And we had high hopes Kurita wouldn’t even make it to the ground; with three Aerospace wings on and around New Avalon against barely a squadron still intact by best estimates on Kurita’s dropships, plus a dozen squadrons of lighter conventional aircraft dirtside for airstrikes.
So, on paper, we were ready and would win this handily, if not easily … which made me incredibly worried.
Whatever you would say about Yorinaga Kurita, he had earned his position as a commander of elite troops honestly, long before he had told the laws of physics to go screw themselves. He might be on a suicide trip to try and die with honor or something, but while he would gladly -even eagerly- spend his life for the Dragon, he was not the kind of guy to throw it away casually. The ISF, despite Quintus’s best efforts, would surely have at least a broad idea of what kind of force was waiting for him and that at the very best he could only hope for a meat grinder that Davion could reinforce vastly easier.
So if he was still coming … he was coming with a plan.
I said as much to anyone who would listen and while people took my insights seriously, everyone also pointed out that there wasn’t really much we could do exact have everyone at their best to receive him and deal with whatever his plan was … unless I had anything useful to suggest?
Appropriately chided I tried to keep distracted as I spent as much time in the Mech simulators that were in high use right now, facing off against other Elite pilots and trying not to terrify myself at the skill gap between myself and them. I had outright told Morgan that he should give my OP Battlemech to someone far more qualified to make maximum use it - there were at least a dozen Marauder jockeys in the line units on planet after all who would no doubt jump at the chance to upgrade to my ride. And their Mech in turn could be given to a much more experienced disposed pilot. Suggesting that I could deploy with the infantry teams defending Castle Avalon or something?
The suggestion had clearly shocked everyone in the Mech ready room when I made it to Morgan - that I would willingly dispossess myself and join the bloody infantry?!
I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes at the Mechwarrior cult coming out again. It was simply military prudence; give an incredibly potent platform to the best people who could use it!
But Morgan (whose command I had nominally been placed under) had told me that he wanted me to hold in reserve here at Castle Davion as part of the ‘Princes Company’. Along with Hanse and three Battlemech piloting bodyguards, a significant number of New Avalon locals had not quite beaten down the door to Castle Davion to demand they be allowed the honor of serving in the Prince's Command Company and had been accepted. Among them was Jackson Davion of all people, who had stayed on New Avalon ‘visiting his mother’ (probably to bitch about the Crushers not getting in on the Capellan Curbstomp as yet). And, perhaps predictably, he had creatively delayed his return to his unit conveniently long enough that he was still hanging around and so had been allowed to join the ad-hoc unit, despite his rank meaning he really should not be running around playing Mechwarrior.
Clearly the allure of serving directly with the First Prince during this crisis beat the hell out of going back to do paperwork with the Assault Guards.
Can’t say I didn’t have mixed feeling about the man and his future ironclad loyalty to Katherine until near the end of the FedCom Civil War … but as I had told Nondi Steiner, the future wasn’t written yet. And he was a hell of a Mechwarrior so I was glad to be with him.
And so we prepared and waited and billions of people held their breath in fear of one leading a few hundred arriving … and then Kurita vanished.
Literally; his four Jumpships under observation at the Kirklin Zenith point had warped space and time as expected … and not shown up at any system within 30 light years. To no small amount of consternation in High command and barely restrained alarm on military Vid-shows that had been getting their best ratings ever as they tracked ‘countdown to invasion’ through each jump...
The only logical systems for him to jump to were Coloma or Delavan, both within 30 light years of New Avalon. I mean the 30 light year limit wasn’t actually a hard one, you could jump 32 or 32 without that much more risk if your jumpship was in good repair, but any more then that and the possibility of a miss jump skyrocketed. There were not any ‘dead’ systems within range but there were easily a dozen uninhabited systems that would serve the same purpose - not to mention deep space itself. While always a risky tactic, it seemed that Kurita didn’t want to risk a reaction force at New Avalon jumping him once he committed himself. And that he would make his assault jump to New Avalon from deep space.
Or so everyone concluded.
Tension rose across the planet in a subtle way - the ‘deep breath before the plunge’ as Gandalf had put it in Return of the King (a line Hanse promptly stole for his own press conference as we reached the end of day 7) with the planet on edge …
And nothing happened.
Day eight came, then day nine, day ten and so on without the Genyosha showing up anywhere. Predictably in the absence of information speculation exploded and tension rose. Some people hoped Kurita and his merry men had missjumped entirely and were gone although sensor logs from Kirklin showed the outbound jump signatures were all normal. Other people thought angrily he was just screwing with them, hovering in deep space until the alert units stood down or something like that as days ticked over and indeed after another week had passed everyone started to wonder if he was skipping through deep space to reemerge somewhere else in a few months … but that was not to be as he finally arrived.
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Entirely unfairly I thought, the invasion alarm went off in the middle of the night.
My time at Sakhara had made me very good at snapping awake when alarms went off all over the place and I was rolling out of bed and getting dressed rapidly as the room lights under computer control shot to full day illumination. Stripping out of my sleepware quickly, I staggered half blind to where my combat gear had been laid out - I had been keeping it laid out now every night against the probability something like this would happen. The alarm tone - three deep howls followed by one sharp short one indicated this was a planetary invasion alarm, something I doubted most of the palace had ever expected to hear despite everything over the last months that had taken place.
Fortunately the alarm tone was not four quick bursts over and over which would indicate a palace invasion alarm and that the enemy was right here right now and I may have to shoot my way to either a bunker or evacuation tunnel. Even so, I was careful as I pulled on my BDUs and stomped into my combat boots to pull my laser pistol from the draw, double checking it was loaded and safe then put it into my holster before taking three seconds to look for a brush - before I remembered I had been keeping my hair cut short for the sake of my neurohelmet.
Not that my SLDF grade system actually required me to cut my hair, but it was a bit of a habit I’d gotten into at Sakhara and it was good practice anyway to get the tightest fit. Plus oddly enough I had gotten somewhat used to the short cut...
Stepping into the hallway I was both surprised and annoyed to see Morgan Hasek-Davion already out of his own room and clearly waiting for me. Unsurprised because it was a combat alert and if there was one thing that could get even a half Davion out of bed and looking like a kid on Christmas day, it was the possibility of a glorious battle against heavy odds. Annoyed because even after just being woken up in the middle of the night, the man still looked like a bloody poster child for the AFFS, what with his perfectly pressed BDUs, sickeningly perfect hair tied back into a ponytail that simply helped to make him look like a hardass and the ivory handled Federated gryopistol slung in his thigh holster he had earned graduating in the top 1% of his class at CMS...
“Looks like this is it” I greeted him as he jerked his head and we fell into a quick jog through the hallways as staff moved with purpose but not panic towards the other end of the Royal wing where Hanse and Melissa's chambers were as the klaxons finally cut out and a voice over the PA announced that this was a planetary invasion alarm and not a drill.
“Looks like. You ready?”
“Not in the slightest” I said with absolute honesty and he smiled wryly at me.
“Good - I don’t think you can be ready the first time you go into combat. Just stick close and let the training kick in - you’re a better Mechwarrior than you keep giving yourself credit for” he insisted as we came around the corner, narrowly missed a lot of palace servants looking ashen as they were escorted by palace security towards the access lifts that would take them deeper into the palace.
I simply nodded at Morgan’s reply as the reality started to but that I was about to go into battle.
Real, no holds barred, kill or be killed, battle.
This wasn’t a game of Mechwarrior where I slaughtered my way through Lances and Stars casually, respawning if I fell. This wasn’t a tabletop game where the closest I would come to pain was the thought of having to pack everything back up and find all the dice when I was finished.
This was as real as it got. Some young Kuritan high on patriotism and kool aid out there, but still a living breathing human being nonetheless who I might have to kill before he killed me-
No. Bad thoughts. I mean, good to remember there is a human in there, bad to forget that you don’t get handpicked by Yorinaga Kurita because you were a green conscript being handed a rifle and told to man the line or die. They were here because they were fanatical killers more than ready to make a one-way trip to New Avalon to wreck as much as they could before they could be stopped.
…
Yeah, come to think of it I’d rather face the PBI conscript if I’m being honest...
My pre-combat jittering was put on hold as we approached the Royal Apartments. The normal guards were still there but they were now joined by a half dozen members of the 1st Davion infantry battalion who never left the palace in full field combat gear, cradling their rifles at the ready and glaring suspiciously at us as we moved in before one nodded and then reached back and knocked twice on the door they were guarding.
The door to the Royal apartment opened at that point and while the two duty Guards snapped to attention (along with Morgan and I) the rest kept watching us and down the corridor as Hanse and Melissa came out. Hanse was dressed like Morgan and I in Mechwarrior BDUs while Melissa was …
Um, okay, she was dressed in the full field kit of a member of the 1st Davion Guards, balaclava and all, even if it was pulled down right now.
Okay, wasn’t expecting that.
And how the ****** had she gotten dressed that fast into full field kit, body armour and all?!
“...wish you would reconsider” Hanse was saying with a pleading look at his wife. It was the kind of look puppies would have applauded and daughters wish they could pull on their weak and gullible fathers … and had about as much impact on Melissa as a beanbag shotgun would on 95 Toner.
“Hanse, not happening” Melissa said emphatically, returning his look with the kind of look I had seen on her mother's face that said the subject was closed. “But I promise you if looks like the Castle might be compromised, I’ll execute the escape and contingency plans without delay or hesitation.”
He nodded at that with a bit of a stiffness and then his expression softened slightly as Melissa stepped close and put her hands on his shoulders and seemed to drag his complete attention to her - and I could finally see in that moment the tension both of them were trying to hide.
“Don’t need to go out of your way to face him” Melissa said softly. “Ian doesn’t need you to avenge him personally”.
“I know” Hanse assured her as he reached up to place his own hands on hers, gently stroking her fingers. “I loved Ian, but I’m not blind to his faults. I’ll not shy from defending my people but I have no intention of offering Yorinaga Kurita another Davion target. Besides” he said with a gentle smile. “We still have to finish our conversation”
“I look forward to it” Melissa smiled. “But until then...” and with that she closed the gap, pushed Hanse back against the wall as she stood on her toes-
Uh, wow.
That wasn’t peck on the lips for luck. Nor was it an appropriate but real kiss from wife to husband.
Melissa Steiner-Davion had just pushed Hanse against the wall and was full on Frenching him in front of all of us without the slightest restraint or care in the world and, after a second or so of surprise in his body language, Hanse was pulling her in and going for it full throttle.
So uh … this was … um ...okay then!
It was a bit of effort not to snicker and I glanced across at Morgan - and then couldn’t help but snicker as I saw his face was bright red and he was looking everywhere but the happy couple, clearly wildly unprepared for his rulers acting like a couple of horney teenagers.
Finally though, Melissa released the man and stepped back, staring into his eyes as she gently held his hands.
“Don’t get killed Hanse” she told him simply, seemingly understanding that war was here and the Federated Suns needed the First Prince now - but understanding wasn’t the same thing as liking the necessity.
And with that done, she backed away, turned and quite deliberately walked away from Hanse to the NCO waiting there, accepting a rifle and helmet from him that she slung on her back and put on her head. And as she pulled her balaclava covering up up she ceased being Melissa Steiner and turned into just another member of one of the roving fire teams who would be patrolling the palace as they escorted her to whatever secure bunker she had been assigned, falling in as the fire team moved out. Our eyes met as she passed me - and behind all the camouflage I could feel the fear. Fear that the man she had genuinely started to move from affection to love with, was going to get himself killed - and then she was passed.
And I mentally sighed.
Well okay then, that tears it, I guess I just got tagged in on the ‘keep Hanse alive’ team...
“Alright, lets go” Hanse ordered as Melissa's fire team vanished around the corner, the three of us plus the remaining two conventionally dressed guards getting into the private elevator already waiting with another guard inside and after it sealed itself, we dropped.
And I almost literally meant dropped, like a damn orbital drop pod.
This thing when it needed to move didn’t quite go into a freefall but it was impressive close, the better for a security detail to get the Prince from his bedroom to a bunker before a nuke hit or something. A few seconds later though the lift stabilized and I was glad it was pressure sealed as we plunged from the top of the castle through it to the top of the mountain, through it and then down into a sub basement where a brutal 2G deceleration wrenched us to a stop.
“We should sell tickets to that thing” I muttered and there was a snicker from Morgan and an amused look from Hanse as we exited into what amounted to a tiny underground maglev station and strapped into a single-car tube. This in turn blasted through the crust of New Avalon at ludicrous speeds and in less than two minutes we halted and exited at an ‘executive’ entrance to the Fox’s Den. Which, after we passed a fortified security checkpoint even an Elemental point would have had second thoughts about tackling, led us to an internal tram ala Black Mesa that took us finally to the main foyer to the Den. And a quick power walk later, we were finally at the main planantery command centre, guards saluting and opening the blast doors for us.
Okay, it was impressive, I’ll grant you that. It was like something out of War Games, with a series of tiers of control stations and consoles, walls of screens and a massive holotank at the front ‘stage’ projecting a pretty big hologram that hovered over the officers at the level of the senior people at the back.
Unsurprisingly, the air was tense and everyone seemed pretty damn busy as Hanse, two at a time, took the steps from the entrance on the left front along the wall and up to the level where I could see the flag officers were sitting. I followed Morgan up that way -as no-one had told me otherwise- and took a few glances at the master display that showed the alarm and frantic activity here was quite justified. Sitting above New Avalon were four scarlet diamond tags I knew meant ‘Hostile Jumpship’ with a text box attached to them tagging them as four Invader class Jumpships. Moving away from them were a dozen crimson rectangles following a scarlet line to the planet of their tentatively projected landing zone; their tags showing them as eight Union class ships, three Overlord class ships and a single Excalibur class ship. Smaller triangles grouped in circles near them indicated Fighter squadrons in escort formation with them with the count looking like about twenty, give or take.
This was not a drill - this was as real as it got.
“Highness” Yvonne Davion greeted the Prince calmly as he stepped up to the main command station. The Princes Champion had taken to all but living out of the Den over the last fortnight, handling pretty much all aspects of getting New Avalon ready to receive and destroy the force coming for it while Hanse had been the public face of ‘Keep calm and carry on’ and dealing with the political fallout of giving Kurita a free shot at the capital. Per standing orders, the staff otherwise didn’t react as they remained focused on their consoles although a few seemed to stiffen slightly as they realized The Boss was here. “All Twelve dropships have been positively identified as the Genyosha strike force. Estimate fifty minutes until they hit the atmosphere at their current burn and course, it looks like they’ll be landing on Brunswick - unless they try for a flight around the planet after breaching. Alert fighters are up, the full wings should be up and ready for a close-insertion intercept”.
“Very Good” Hanse said after a quick glance at his repeater displays, not bothering to sit on the chair but leaning on the back of it as he studied the massive holographic image with an unhappy face. “Looks like he is going for our industry.”
“Agreed” Yvonne agreed, glancing at the status board. “All Force Commanders have come online at full combat alert and public evacuations and announcements are proceeding as planned.”
“Good. And Walker?”
“MI6 was moving ninety seconds after I had conformation of the Combine Jumpships” Yvonne assured him. “Every agent and cell Quintus has identified for elimination will either be in custody or dead within ninety minutes, the Marshal guarantees it.
“I just hope he remembers that this is our planet and not someone elses” Hanse groused. “We’re probably going to have a big enough cleanup bill without some overly eager MI6 agent collapsing a skyscraper or two”.
“I’m sure he will sire” Yvonne answered tactfully in a tone that she too had concerns about the Rabid Fox's ability to restrain themselves before she moved on. “Civilian traffic is a bloody mess, but the flight controllers are clearing it as best they can, trying to get everyone around the planet and down safe from where the combat zone is most likely to be. But … we can expect significant damage from falling debris nonetheless to civilian structures.”
Hanse’s face hardened at that. The Den had been built into the bedrock well under the mountain range Mount Davion was a part of and built in the very early 1st Succession Wars based on SLDF Castle Brian engineering. It was proof against a couple of angry McKennas unleashing a weeks worth of temper tantrum. So too were the factories over in Brunswick for the most part heavily reinforced and often having the key production lines underground, with ‘expandable’ structures on the surface.
But a fragment of a drive unit or chunk of a side of a dropship landing into a suburban backyard…
“Commit the fighters once they are massed, try to pin the escort and focus on the Excalibur first, then the Unions. Let's try to crack as many Eggs as we can” Hanse said smoothly with a glance at a man in the uniform of an AFFS Aerospace General. Accepting the consequences of his decision, moving past it and focusing on defending his capital.
At times like this I suppose you had to be cold. Either he risked collateral damage from chunks of dropships coming down, or, he let them get a far better shot at getting a lot more units onto the ground. Not exactly an easy decision - but I'll grant him that he made it quickly and decisively, without hesitation.
“Sir!” the man snapped a salute and turned to start giving quick and crisp orders to his staff as more and more officers started to ascend to Hanse and Yvonne as battle drew near. Feeling in the way I fell back down a stairwell to Morgan who had taken over a spare console a couple of tiers lower and as busy using it to obsessively make sure his unit was absolutely ready to launch the second he was back with them.
Which was just make work really. The man had been obsessively making sure his unit was ready to go twice daily and his people had gotten the planetary invasion alert at the same time as us. But it was a way of dealing with that most universal of military traditions; ‘Hurry up and Wait’.
For lack of anything else to do, I joined him, getting a distracted nod as I settled in on a chair off to the side as the timers and clocks on the hologram both moved too slow and too fast, the scarlet icons steadily eating up the distance between the planet and themselves as green orbs of friendly fighter squadrons constricted inwards on them from three different directions.
If I was reading this whole thing right, then it looked like the hostile track and all three aerospace formation tracks would converge right about at the atmospheric interface, which made things … interesting.
Engaging during atmospheric interface was a bit of a no-go. You generally only got one shot after all due to closing speeds and trying to breach a dropships hull in one salvo was always a tall order, even without the shockwave of plasma around them that almost acted like pseudo shields, tending to disrupt the coherency of PPC blasts, blooming laser beams too much and often scattering projectile and missile fire. Hitting incoming dropships just before or during atmospheric interface on the other hand, was a high-risk, high-reward tactic. If (like now) the dropships were coming in fast and relying on the planetary atmosphere in part to assist with an aerobraking maneuver to minimize their interception window, opening up hull breaches on them or otherwise compromising their aerodynamics after they were committed could cause rather significant problems.
The Robert Davion in later Battletech canon could certainly attest to how playing chicken with a planet's atmosphere rarely ended well after all.
It was high risk though because the timing had to be exact and even a slight shift in maneuvering could ruin your interception like a matador yanking the red cloth away. But as the clock ticked down, it seemed that the defenders would indeed be able to hit the snake formation in a multi-vector assault with each formation having as many fighters as the entire DC force. The Combine fighters, despite being Slayers and Shilones, brutal birds with heavy firepower, would be forced to defend themselves, defend their charges and do so outnumbered 3-1 if they split to cover all sides … yet the Combine ships didn’t seem to be in a serious hurry to do anything about it.
And that … bothered me.
Everything was unfolding … exactly as it should for the good guys. Kurita would be lucky if he got half his ships down. The risky pirate point jump had gotten him close to New Avalon and his high speed burn would minimise the interception window … but it wasn’t enough. Not with the planet already on full alert, his charge wasn’t anything like enough to beat the scramble time.
…
This was bullshit.
This should not be going ‘exactly as planned for the defenders!’
Battle Plan and contact with the enemy and all that?
Yorinaga Kurita was many things but most of all, he was good. He had led his men across a third of the Federated Suns with both considerable skill and exceptional agility to this point as he had worked to throw off any attempt to intercept him.
Yet now he was just charging in exactly as one would expect your average Drac out of the book to do…
Out of the book … the book …
The nagging thought made me frown as somewhere in my brain an association was made in my subconscious … ah yes, Tom Clancy. Not the Entry with a Bang verse, but one of his works - his better works. Red Storm Rising. A good book because besides being co-written by Larry Bond, both sides were allowed to show their tactical genius chops which made for a far more compelling read.
One of the best examples I remembered (with unease increasingly turning to a kind of dread as the parallels started to tick up) had been a Soviet Naval Aviation attack on a NATO Carrier group. The Soviets Bombers had come in ‘dumb’ on the exact vector and timing the USN had expected - with heavy jamming support- looking to bravely try and bash their way through and ripple their missiles.
The vaunted Tomcat + Phoenix Missile combination had been committed and started ‘wiping the bandits off the board’ exactly like in the wargames to the smug satisfaction of the fleet commander, kill counts handsomely jacking up …
Then the sky fell as a Tomcat closed in and saw they had not been shooting bombers out of the sky but target drones. And with the interceptors neutralized as a threat, the real bomber formation, coming in from the other direction now lit off their targeting radars to reveal their presence, took a good look at the now naked fleet … and fired off a hundred and forty anti-ship missiles.
I looked hard at the display as the memory in my mind fought to the front. Now, the inbound tracks were not drones of course, but ...
“Morgan” I said softly and the man in question who was sitting with clearly barely controlled urges to move/act/do/punch looked up at my call.
Something in the way I was staring at the screen must have gotten his attention though as his frantic energy seemed to be pushed to the side as he took in something in my bearing or attitude...
“Talk to me” he ordered - and there was no more 'Morgan' here, just 'Brevet Major Hasek-Davion who might have been horribly young for his rank, but few people didn't think he could handle it.
“This isn’t right” I said, staring at the chaotic pattern of tracks in orbit and trying to make some kind of sense of it, find a pattern or anything. It really didn’t help that the orderly lines of tracks that had been inbound from both of the systems primary jump points had warped; outbound traffic goosing the throttle a little to get clear and inbound traffic goosing the throttle a LOT to abort their orbital insertion for a far higher orbit the hell away from the fight that was about to break out. While in low orbit itself, like a ripple from a stone thrown into a pond, ships were frantically burning away from the region inbound Kuritan ships were going to pass through, with dropships and shuttles hurriedly evacuating low orbit facilities and getting the hell out of the way of the furbull about to break out. Civilian traffic control probably having no small amount of headaches trying to stop everyone running into each other…
“Yorinaga is coming in dumb - and he’s not a dumb commander! This kind of frontal assault is just going to bleed him white before he even gets his feet on the ground - let alone force Hanse to face him. He has got to be up to something else here…”
“Well, he doesn’t have many options...” Morgan pointed out although I could hear in his voice my comments had made him stop and think.
That was good. Morgan in Battletech had a rep of being near as much of a tactical genius as Hanse at his best - and unlike Hanse, he was free to talk to me right now.
“A straight in attack from a pirate point is actually his best bet to get to ground-” Morgan started to say but I shook my head firmly, trying to make him understand even as I wondered if i was just being a paranoid idiot.
“Then what was he up to last week?” I demanded in a low, controlled, tone. “The longer he waited, the better the chance we’d reinforce New Avalon. Why is he going for Brunswick rather than Avalon City if this is him looking for a rematch with Hanse? What if all this” I gestured at the master display showing the green and red icons closing on each other, “is just a … a flagbang?”
“A decoy...” Morgan considered - damnit why did I say ‘flashbang!?’ - his gaze hard as he tilted his head and his mind considered the possibilities. “It would be very, very expensive bait…” he observed, his tone considering but dubious and my non-Battletech mind moved quickly on that, suddenly making a leap that perhaps Morgan couldn’t casually make.
Dropship were not Jumpships, they were actually replaceable and not Lostech ... but only up to a point. The unsaid but generally accepted rules were that you more or less left each others alone in standard raiding backwards and forward and Overlords were rare enough that no-one would just throw them away, Excaliburs even more so even if they were, frankly, an overpriced POS. And Kurita had essentially all but sacrified another four Invaders which, the note from the Combine aside, no-one would object to being seized, what with being in orbit around New Avalon. Even if it would probably be diplomatic for Hanse to turn them over to ComStar to hold in escrow or something pending a ransom, it was still putting incredibly valuable jumpships beyond immediate use...
But this wasn’t in any way, shape or form a ‘standard’ raid. This was the 4th Succession War.
“This is already a one way trip” I pointed out, forcing myself to keep my voice calm and steady and not racing along at high speed as I tended to when I got excited and things started to fall into place but by bit as I talked it out. “In fact, all those ships - and the fighters - are expendable directly or indirectly to get his force to the ground, They still have a job to do though; if they fight hard, they can still cripple Davion aerospace cover enough that they won’t be able to do much against any ground troops that made it.”
“So obvious question; without ships how does he get his ground - that's it” Morgan suddenly cut off his own line of thought, his eyes going wide … as his fist hit his consoles frame with considerable force, a protesting groan of metal suggesting his might have done structural damage with that.
I simply stared at him. Okay, he skipped a step in the logic there for me-
“He transferred! He transferred his Mech units off these ships” he stabbed a hand to point accusingly at the scarlet blips getting increasingly close to the projected combat intercept point, “to another ship or ships waiting for him - with a charged jumpship - in deep space!” he hissed, his expression flicking back and forth between a bizarre mix of anger and grudging admiration. “He then jumped that ship into the system and-”
“-moved in like any normal civilian ships. Then when he reaches the point he would be near needing to submit to the orbital cargo checks required under the current threat level, the ‘invasion force’ arrive and everyone gets told to land - and so they land…”
“....and out comes Kurita all guns blazing while our fighters are getting chewed up stopping the decoy thrust and our response forces are already moving-”
“Okay. Morgan, you are now Yorinaga Kurita” I cut him off quickly, with a raised hand as Morgan seemed about to go charging up the stairs to Hanse, but we needed more than a theory that happene to fit the facts. “There is your decoy” I jerked my head at the crimson icons “about five minutes away from engaging the AFFS aerospace fighters - where would you want your dropships to be, right now?”
Morgan blinked … then understanding hit him as to what I was asking and he spun back to his console and in a blur of motion switched it over to a repeater display of the traffic display, spinning the globe around from the cluster of red and green icons
“If I want Hanse Davion…I’ll have to come here, there isn’t anywhere else he’ll be in the middle of the night” Morgan muttered, seemingly taking the ‘you are Kurita’ thing rather literally as his gaze focused in like a laser on the crazy orbital ballet around Albion and New Avalon, his gaze flickering like mad as he looked at the timings, the positions as I wondered if I was in fact just becoming paranoid to a crazy degree-”
“Here! This! This is him!” Morgan snarled as he stabbed his finger on the CRT screen - which protested with a wave of distortion as I leaned in over his shoulder to look.
“Those three Mules?” I double checked him carefully, painfully aware of how careful we had to be here...
“Look at them, just look at them” he breathed as he ‘rock and rolled’ the feed, winding it backwards and forwards at high speed, the three blue dots highlighted to show their tracks to the planet and then manouvering through the complete chaos in orbit. “There are plenty of other convoys coming in, they all scattered and then regrouped as everything went to hell! These guys didn’t! They held their formation perfectly, line astern, like a military convoy, then turned off their track, through the chaos until instructed to head for their nominal LZ on Rostock - on a route that takes them directly over Avalon City in … twelve minutes! Exactly as the engagement starts on the other side of the planet!”
As I watched that track was getting closer and closer...to here.
Morgan and I exchanged a look - and now we bolted.
Ten minutes and change later as I strapped myself hurridly into my Battlemech, I watched on one of my secondary displays as a live long range military telescope on the top of Mount Davion showed a picture of three three Mule class dropships … exploding as they descended into the stratosphere.
The explosion was deliberate I saw at once. Symetrical with parts of the ship being carefully blown away by explosives to open up and show the inside and as I started my Battlemech into motion, following Hanse and the other ten Mechs of his Command Company to the massive lifts that would get us to the surface, I couldn't help but feel a spike of admiration for the man leading this raid. Tying to land and unload from civilian ships would have been pointless; they simply were not set up for fast offloading like military Mech carriers were. It could take an hour or more which was more than enough time to turn the ships into their graves.
Instead, as the ships skin disintegrated the cameras point of view zoomed in to show motion inside. Like a rotten egg falling to bits now exposing the parasites swarming inside.
And moments later, by the dozens, Silver and Grey painted Battlemechs leapt from the ruined ships into the night sky as Yorinaga Kurita, slayer of Davions and invincibile champion of the Combine finally accomplished that which his family had been trying for a very long time, as he led his two regiments of the finest Mechwarriors in an invasion of the capital of the Federated Suns.
And thats it. Gonna
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As Bobbie Roode's theme song goes "Glorious!"
An absolutely AMAZING read, the characters, the setting, you nail it perfectly. Also I love the humor and nods, the references and other bits and bobs, they had me chuckling away whilst reading. But now..crunch time.
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damned nice work
now wheres the next 10 sections?
:-P :-P :-P :-P :-P :-P :-P
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The most basic of deceptions, executed by a true master: Let the enemy see what they expect to see, so they pay no attention to what else is happening.
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A good book because besides being co-written by Larry Bond, both sides were allowed to show their tactical genius chops which made for a far more compelling read.
A good read :thumbsup: At least it's not pseudo-Death Commandos this time.
(Although having pseudo-Death Commandos emerge in the middle of this would be amusing ;) )
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Great update!!! More PLEASE!!!!
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Wow! Smith's got more problems than solutions... although Precentor New Avalon walked away with more questions. ROM's going to be even more seriously interested.
Chris' writing is exceptional and he captures each character uniquely and gives them their own voices. Thanks for sharing!
Am I the only one visualizing Megatron's attack on Autobot City in Transformers the Movie? What a glorious sound track in that movie.
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A good read :thumbsup: At least it's not pseudo-Death Commandos this time.
(Although having pseudo-Death Commandos emerge in the middle of this would be amusing ;) )
now we just need a squadron of planetbusters from the militia whose capt flies passengers when not activated
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Tagging this to follow over here, too, beyond just SB.
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so Smith and someone was training in exosuits?
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Questions, Questions, Questions...
Number One: When will notion that COMSTAR causes the Clan Invasion be discussed?
Number Two: Will COMSTAR, itself, still discuss/conceive the idea of creation of the Free Rasalhague Republic to the Draconis leadership? or will the idea come from the FEDCOM for political Lolz?
Number Three: If COMSTAR is not to be informed in any measure about The Clans, will any Explorer Corps vessels be hassled to prevent them (and specifically the Outbound Light) from travelling?
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Great read, very well done, looking forward to more. Wounder if he is actually a much better mechwarrior / commander than he gives himself credit for. Wounder who he will get tricked into liking?
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Amazing new parts. The crap is hitting the fan and Yorinaga is getting to show why he was one of the biggest hitters of the 4SW. As always, loving Smith's interactions with Hanse and Melissa.
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Wow! Smith's got more problems than solutions... although Precentor New Avalon walked away with more questions. ROM's going to be even more seriously interested.
Chris' writing is exceptional and he captures each character uniquely and gives them their own voices. Thanks for sharing!
Am I the only one visualizing Megatron's attack on Autobot City in Transformers the Movie? What a glorious sound track in that movie.
...
Not now, you're not. Might make an outstanding summer blockbuster in 3030 that is *sort of* based on how things actually happened...
*starting with Morgan and Kym about to kiss for the first time at a lookout on one of the secondary peaks when she frowns at something over his shoulder*
Kym: "Morgan look - there's a hole in the dropship!"
Morgan: "What?" *has a close look then jumps to his feet (the wind carefully blowing his magnificent hair in a heroic way), "Genyosha!"
*Commence 'Dare'*
*Jumps into his Battlemech with Kym in the Rumble Seat and opens fire blowing the cover of the attackers who pour out with a shouted 'ATTACK!' from Kurita, Morgan charging back to Castle Davion with some headbanner wearing Kamakazi LAM pilot chasing him in an awesome chase sequence shouting 'PATHETIC FOOLS, THERE'S NO ESCAPE!' which the LAM flying into air mech mode after them down a tunnel (Morgan having played Mario with a pair of hovering Panthers on their jump jets to get across chasm of course) - realizes it just got trapped and having to blow its foot off in a scream of rage to avoid the secondary blast door closing and crushing him*
Meanwhile at the NAIS BB tooks a look at the massive numbers of Mechs dropping in the near distance.
BB: "Prince Davion! A cursory examination of Draconis capabilities indicates a distinct tactical deficiency!"
Hanse: "In other words Doctor?"
Yvonne: "We're outnumbered" *everyone hits the deck as the crazy LAM streaks by making a strafing run*
*fast forward to the Genyosha making their big push at the palace, Melissa upstairs snarling that she has better things to do today then die as she flings off a number of Arrows from a convenient launcher at DEVASTATOR (which they apparently pulled out of NAIS in passing even if in reality it was safely moved to a secure hanger elsewhere) as it smashes down the front door roaring 'PREPARE FOR EXTERMINATION!'. But just as Kurita breaks it open, a roar sounds as a Dropship whips by overhead grabbing everyone attention. Smash cut inside to;
Morgan Kell: "Kell Hounds; destroy Genyosha!"
Patrick: "Me Patrick love challenge!" (Yeah he hasn't been getting much sleep since he took over the 3AM feedings of his kid but he can still fight like the best of them!) as the Hounds pour out and smash into the Genyosha in a collision that shakes the planet. Then as the ship lands an Archer steps out and spots a jet black Warhammer pushing into the Davion palace in search of its quarry with his bodyguards...
"Yorinaga must be stopped ... no matter the cost" *The Touch starts playing as the Archer sprints across the grounds and simply smashes through the first couple of Combine Mechs trying to follow their liege, gets a frantic volley from the rest who all miss as it leaps into the air and with impossibly precise (and seemingly OP) laser blasts knocks out Mech after Mech in an awesome showing of combat ability before landing and having Kurita turn around to face him in shock*
Yorinaga: "Kell!"
Morgan: "One shall stand! One shall fall!"
Yorinaga: "Why throw away your life so wre-"
*a pair of particle beams whip in left to right straight into Yorinaga's cockpit and cut off the villian speach as well as the music and all sounds of combat as everyone turns in shock to the Maruarder standing there, its ERPPCs smoking*
Morgan: "Smith ... the ****** dude?"
Because Smith gives zero ****** about glorious honor duels ...
...
Yeah going to stay away from this while I write the battle :p
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ROFL ;D
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...
Not now, you're not. Might make an outstanding summer blockbuster in 3030 that is *sort of* based on how things actually happened...
….
Yeah going to stay away from this while I write the battle :p
I bow in the presence of the master! ;D ;D ;D ;D
Now I have to queue up that whole soundtrack.
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WOW, what an update Chris.... :clap: :clap: :clap: :rockon: :beer:
And the 3030 Blockbuster :excited: :excited: take my Cbills
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.Yeah going to stay away from this while I write the battle :p
(https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/940/633/409.jpg)
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*a pair of particle beams whip in left to right straight into Yorinaga's cockpit and cut off the villian speach as well as the music and all sounds of combat as everyone turns in shock to the Maruarder standing there, its ERPPCs smoking*
Morgan: "Smith ... the ****** dude?"
Because Smith gives zero ****** about glorious honor duels ...
Because Smith has seen this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kk36yr5jxBU
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(https://i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/newsfeed/000/940/633/409.jpg)
now I have a vision of Weird Al driving a mech
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He's probably working for Team Banzai.
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I approve of this batte :D
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I approve of this batte :D
Me to, and the wait is killing me!!!!
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I have a feeling the speculation about Smith having the Phantom Mech ability is pretty much nonsense - Chris has proven he has a pretty high bar for realism. I suspect we will see Smith take part and have to deal with killing somebody, probably as part of a Davion victory.
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I might have missed it on the first couple of re-readings, but which Hanse did Melissa drop her incognito babby bombshell on?
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Real, I'd imagine. The double would be kept isolated, to reduce the possibility of successfully impersonating him.
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I was imagining an electronic alarm bracelet, with a shaped charge liner.
Then I remembered the size of BT electronics ... ;)
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The fake one is barely capable of basic human interaction after his complete mental breakdown in the aftermath of The Sworf and the Dagger, he couldn't have handled the reception.
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Chris,
this is an amazing tale ... and I really do appreciate you undertaking the effort crossposting here as generating an epub e-book for offline reading on an e-book reader is very easy here but it is quite impossible scraping off over at SB.
Long train hours have been made short by this tale ... thank you so very much.
Best Regards,
Christian
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Yea what he said. Thank you for posting it here.
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Incidentally, I'm editing the story so far - all the bad grammar, punctuation, and spelling was SO distracting - and I hope to offer it to him after the story ends. It'll be up to him to approve posting it, though, and I don't think he knows I'm doing it.
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and I don't think he knows I'm doing it.
Red?
Just by posting the above, he'll see it...
TT
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It's not like it's the first time, TT. On SB the pages were whizzing by so fast I think he missed me mentioning it, and I don't think he comes here regularly.
Really doesn't matter - I just find myself so distracted by the small things in the Word file I change things just so it's easier to read.
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Wounder if he is actually a much better mechwarrior / commander than he gives himself credit for.
Well, the below is my back-of-the-napkin thoughts on the subject I originally posted at SB.:
Since everyone else has had a crack at guessing how Smith will do in battle, I figured I'd throw in my 2 C-bills worth.
Firstly, psychology.
The simple fact is that not everyone is cut out for combat. Even with all the best screening and training IRL, some people are going to freeze or crack up under fire. Assuming that Sakhara is at least as good as a 21st century military training program, I think they would have concluded that Smith is capable of functioning in combat, since they kept him in the program. This does not mean he will not hesitate on initial exposure to combat, or that he will be capable of a "You Shall Not Pass!" stand against impossible odds, but I think it is likely that he will be able to move, shoot, think, and follow directions under fire.
We also have in-story references to how Smith has been conditioned by his training to react immediately to certain stimuli (like alarms). Like modern day fighter pilots, MechWarriors need to be able to perform complex cockpit tasks with little to no conscious thought in order to keep "head space" for dealing with the situation in front of them. Smith has mentioned that Sakhara forced him to find every control in the cockpit by feel, and execute critical checklists from memory. He has had another year's worth of practice with his Uber-Mech. This is more reason to believe that he will be able, at least initially, to manage his 'Mech in combat.
Next, he's been assigned to the Prince's Company in the Swordsworn. If I'm reading the story right, he's attached as a fifth member of Hanse's Command Lance. Early in the story, Smith made the conscious decision to swear allegiance to Hanse. Later, Katrina Steiner forced him to weigh up whether he could risk his life in defence of the Federated Commonwealth. I think he will try his damnedest to keep up with his lance-mates, if for no other reason than safety in numbers, but also because he's silently promised his adopted troll kid sister that he we would be on the "Keep Hanse Alive Team".
Finally, Smith is an unreliable narrator when it comes to his own abilities. He understandably dwells on the enormous skill gap between himself and elite MechWarriors, but remember that he almost survived the Sakhara gauntlet run on the second go - something that only five out of 36 of his class did. That does not make him an elite, but he's not as bad as he thinks he is. As another example, he constantly struggles with himself to not say the wrong thing, but has been shown to be able to say the right thing at the right time - such as at the Christmas Party at the Triad.
Secondly, technology.
Other people have broken this down better than I could, so just the highlights. Smith is driving a tougher, cooler-running and longer ranged BattleMech than many of his opponents will be. Some of his lancemates will also have LosTech on their 'Mechs. Even if he misses more than he hits, enemies are not going to casually walk through his fire arcs.
Thirdly, the expert opinion.
Smith is at least an auxiliary member of the Swordsworn. Morgan Hasek-Davion has been working part time as his combat instructor, and is his Commanding Officer. Morgan is confident enough in Smith to allow him to take the field. Yes, the defecation has hit the fan and they need every warm body they have, but Smith could easily have been assigned to use his 'Mech as an extra turret on the walls of Castle Davion.
Fourth, the terrain.
It sounds like the Genyosha is coming down right in Avalon City and making for Castle Davion. Castle Davion is separated from the rest of the city by Davion Peace Park, which, we've already seen in the story is basically open plains with light woods and some water features. This will favour the longer-ranged weapons on Smith's ride.
Fifth, his role.
All the members of the Prince's Company really only have one role - keep Hanse Davion alive. We know from canon that Hanse is not going to hang back - and here he has no choice, because he's got to buy time for the rest of the Swordsworn to arrive. That being said, unless Yorinaga has given orders that "Hanse Davion is MINE!", we could see Kuritan MechWarriors fixating on that BattleMaster, which would free up the Prince's Company a little to shoot back without getting shot at so much (I'm assuming that at least one of the company will valiantly intercept fire meant for Hanse during the battle).
So, looking at all that, I think Smith will be able to hold up his end, or at least, not impede his comrades. He might momentarily freeze under fire, but he will shake it off, remembering that his team needs all the help it can get, and he did make a promise to Melissa. I don't think we're going to see him rack up huge kill counts, but he might lame an on-rushing enemy enough for his lance-mates to finish them off. Given the nature of the opposition, I'm actually expecting him not to escape unscathed, both physically and psychologically. He's a minor-leaguer prematurely promoted to the big leagues.
And in the end, I'm wondering if this battle will be the excuse Hanse and Katrina need to ennoble Smith...
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That... is a EXCELLENT commentary. I would be shocked, by the actual end of this story, that he is NOT knighted into the Nobility Caste...
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I think the term should be Baronet first, as he kinda earned that title...
TT
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I think the term should be Baronet first, as he kinda earned that title...
TT
maybe the Baronet of Outreach? >:D
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Bet he'll give Smith some leeway time on Solaris 7 for them fights!
TT
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Also another thing in smiths favour is that he has spent a lot of time thinking about the phantom mech bs and is not likely to be caught by surprise by it. This able to use his pair of mark 1 eyeballs to connect the ppc to enemy mech dots.
Excellent story. Can’t wait for more.
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I'm thinking much the same. Still, can't wait for that juicy mech-on-mech action.
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I believe his only real issue will be the first time he get hit hard or knocked down,
part of him is still wondering if he isnt dreaming back on earth
and so to him its still a game, once he gets smacked hard enough he will shake that off
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As for Yorinaga´s plans, I wouldn´t be surprised if at least part of his force heads to NAIS in order to destroy what they can. It´s not like the defenders have any forces to spare to deal with that - and even if Yorinaga has his troops fail to kill Hanse Davion, losing NAIS would definitely hurt the technological progress of the FedCom.
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Not really - all the databases are already backup-ed in safe places, all the prototypes / rare items moved away and the personnel evacuated.
Destroying NAIS right now do little damage / delay.
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The only thing left NAIS is probably just the buildings and whatever personnel that decided To stay. Hanse probably has back up facilities already set up after his talk with John Smith about the fake Deat commando attack in the OTL. The units assigned to NAIS has probably trained to make the campus as much of a death trap to the incoming DCMS forces as possible.
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I believe his only real issue will be the first time he get hit hard or knocked down,
part of him is still wondering if he isnt dreaming back on earth
and so to him its still a game, once he gets smacked hard enough he will shake that off
I get the impression that he's come to terms with actually being in the BTU, but you're right that the first hard hit will be a reality check. He's been practicing in full motion simulators but for obvious reasons they don't replicate the full force of a 'Mech hitting the ground
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I assume he screwed up and face-planted at least once in mech training.
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Smith is probably the person most prepared for this. As I see it this battle is going to play out like a video game mission. You and your nonrepenishable troops facing wave after wave of never-ending bad guys watching the clock tick down till help arrives. Thus is the kinda stuff we all know all too well
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Smith is probably the person most prepared for this. As I see it this battle is going to play out like a video game mission. You and your nonrepenishable troops facing wave after wave of never-ending bad guys watching the clock tick down till help arrives. Thus is the kinda stuff we all know all too well
Things are different when it's for real. Smith's already discussed his awareness that there will be no respawning for him if rhings go wrong.
Not to mention he's up against live MechWarriors whose tactical sensibilities are not dictated by the limits of a PC's processing power
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Well, yes.
Terrain effects will probably be even, naturally with a slight advantage for the defenders.
Ditto forces will favor the attackers, at least at first until Morgan, Banzai, and the rest of them can move into the combat zone.
Hanse/Morgan and Yorinaga might balance out, but Smith is a wild card.I
No matter what I suspect his biggest contribution will be in terms of strategy and tactics gleaned from books. The long range of those ER-PPCs will help protect him, at least at first, before Chris has his way with him to further the plot.
SO looking forward to this.
Dang - I just realized I'm looking forward to this MORE than IlClan or Shattered Fortress. Hurry up, Chris! :excited:
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No matter what I suspect his biggest contribution will be in terms of strategy and tactics gleaned from books.
I certainly hope the still-shines-like-a-civilian doesn't outperform Morgan "Genius who trained his whole life for this" and Hanse "Former regiment/brigade commander with a ton of combat time"
There's protagonist power. Then there's setting breaking to the point of mary suedom. Outperforming those two in tactics would approach the latter.
Edit - heck, maybe he'll skip over the battle entirely and just deal with the aftermath. Serve us right.
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Of use another excerpt from a textbook to describe it. Darn it.I
I have a feeling no matter Smith's contribution, it's going to be invisible to the IS at large.
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Chris - and Smith - is well aware of Smith's actual combat ability. Doesn't mean irrelevant - no-one remembers who felled General Sedgwick, but he still died.
W.
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The fake one is barely capable of basic human interaction after his complete mental breakdown in the aftermath of The Sworf and the Dagger, he couldn't have handled the reception.
You say that like Hanse hasn't had years to get the doppelganger the best psychological help in the Federated Suns. The poor man will likely never fully recover from what was done to him, but I can definitely see him becoming functional enough to help pull this off. Exposing the crimes of the men who destroyed everything you were via torture and mutilation would doubtlessly be a powerful motivator.
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Smith is probably the person most prepared for this. As I see it this battle is going to play out like a video game mission. You and your nonrepenishable troops facing wave after wave of never-ending bad guys watching the clock tick down till help arrives. Thus is the kinda stuff we all know all too well
I'd see Smith using fairly basic tactics by partnering up with someone who is good in short-ranged combat. Smith uses the PPCs to plink enemy Mechs from range, luring off one or two to deal with with him. Then when the enemy Mech gets close enough someone else in a ML/SRM/AC20 boat pops up and savages the enemy Mech. Smith might use his medium lasers to help finish the target off, then they go back to Smith plinking at enemy Mechs.
But one of the attackers is going to get behind Smith, exposing rear armor thinking that Smith cannot hit him, without risking the rest of the force. Instead Smith turns the Large Pulse Laser around to the rear, and fires at the enemy Mech's rear armor, punching through to get a critical hit.
One thing I expect to give the attackers unexpected trouble is that most/all of the defenders will be piloting Mechs with double heat sinks. This will give the defenders a much greater advantage in firing rates, so expect the defenders to be taking the riskier shots with energy weapons, because energy weapons never run out of ammo, and thanks to double heat sinks they can fire far more often.
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Then when the enemy Mech gets close enough someone else in a ML/SRM/AC20 boat pops up and savages the enemy Mech.
Couple of SRM carriers hiding behind shrubbery should do nicely.
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If i remember correctly, Hanse pilot now an Royal Battlemaster. That 'toy' also have 2 ERPPC - see BLR-1Gb - that made him a good pair for Smith. Four ERPPC are not a thing that i want to encounter in the battlefield, brrr.
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Chapter 15: The Battle of New Avalon. Part I
Oh Lord, please don’t let me ****** up … but feel free to encourage the other side to ****** up as much as you see fit!
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“Estimate enemy Bravo-Mike count is one five zero plus. Projecting drop into grids Echo three, Echo six, and Echo eight through nine. There is still considerable clutter in the air - we think that the DCMS may have released decoy pods with their hull components - expect the picture will clear at minus six zero seconds to estimated grounding...”
I listened to the watch officer from the Fox’s Den with only half an ear as she ran a commentary on the death falling from the sky towards us, nudging my Marauder a little bit to keep in tight with Jackson Davion’s Archer (technically his Mother's Battlemech he had borrowed for the Battle) as we stomped away from the Davion Palace into the deserted and darkened Peace Park - an irony of a name I’m sure would be pointed out many times in history books going forward. With our company spread out over a couple of hundred meters running at 60KPH, it would actually be quite easy to drift out of formation if I got distracted by the radio chatter.
Of course, I didn’t really need it.
The Marauder line had long been a favorite of Battalion and Regimental commanders for a very good reason. Even the monkey-model downtech versions built in the Succession Wars had exceptional communications and sensor gear making them ideally suited for the role of a Command Battlemech and my modified Royal Command variant unsurprisingly improved on that reputation by leaps and bounds. Sure, it wasn’t the equal of the legendary Cyclops and its B-2000 computer … but it really wasn’t that far off either and the tech was astonishingly intuitive. Granted, I still felt trying to command anything more than a straight Mech Battalion from a Battlemech was the height of 31st century idiocy, but I would freely admit my C3 systems gave me rather outstanding tactical awareness.
With that said, a large part of me wished I didn’t have the state-of-the-Star-League secondary console given that it was cheerfully showing a rain of scarlet icons with red diamonds ahead of us - the tracks of probable Battlemechs in the air heading for the deck. And although the screen didn’t show it, I knew all those tracks represented fanatics willingly on a one-way trip looking to gain a kind of immortality through this attack.
I grimaced. This was not going to be pretty.
“Update on tracks Delta one through three” the voice continued as we brushed through a line of trees onto a line of general-purpose football fields, completely ruining the immaculate lawns. “Tracks are holding course for terminal impact five kilometers offshore and thermals suggest they have just SCRAMED their fusion drives - checking … confirm. We have multiple escape-pod launches, C-SAR is making them for recovery.”
Okay that was good news; the three Combine dropships that had been ripped open to rain Battlemechs down upon us (or at least the crippled hulks of them) were seemingly locked into a controlled crash trajectory into the ocean with their crews abandoning ship - although they were dropping plenty of debris into the air in their path, thankfully mostly small bits and chunks and away from inhabited areas mostly.
Given that I’m sure plenty of other DCMS units would have gleefully crashed (flipping and burning if they could) straight into the Davion Palace, Avalon City or the NAIS?
Yeah, I’d count that one as the DCMS being, by their standards at least, magnanimous. Or at least Yorinaga being much smarter than average DCMS commanders in knowing War Crimes were a two way street if you went too hard and the Combine was not in any position to be encouraging Houses Steiner and Davion to take off the Kid Gloves...
And besides, when you get down to it, Kurita wanted a glorious final duel with Davion ... not a massive body count for the sake of one. And the safe ditching of the dropships may have been a message to Hanse to that effect. A sort of quid-pro-quo; ‘I don’t commit war crimes against your capital, you stand on the battlefield against me’...
To my exasperation, Hanse was dead set on giving him what he wanted, even if only by being on the field and reachable, no matter how critical it was that he stayed alive. I knew it was fashionable (I’d almost say cultish) for Davions to be all Winfield Scott Hancock and live by ‘there are times when a Corps Commanders life doesn’t matter’ … but it seemed the height of idiocy for him to be anywhere near this battlefield.
Then again, this was 31st century Military-Feudalism, not 21st century Military-Pragmatism (exhibit A; me being here) no matter how much the AFFS went on about its vaunted professionalism. As a Feudal Lord -the Feudal Lord- and a Davion, Hanse was obligated to defend his capital. Especially after making the point several times that New Avalon all but welcomed Kurita on a one-way death wish because the planet would show itself just as determined and hardcore as any border world had through the Succession Wars in seeing the threat off...
So, here we were, running to the sound of the guns … or, more accurately, to a holding point south of the Davion Palace where we were going to wait and see how the situation developed before moving in.
The wider AO was shaping up into something like an elongated triangle on my TACMAP with the northernmost point being the Davion Palace and Avalon Cities CBD. Ten klicks South across Davion Peace Park and the NAIS training grounds was the New Avalon Institute of Science itself, with Albion Military Academy a short distance beyond that. The third corner of the triangle was halfway between both first points but ten or so klicks to the West where the southern reaches of Avalon City gave way to the mountains that ran West along this part of the continent; Kuritas LZ.
In a pure tactical sense, the chosen rally point of the Combine Mechs was perfect. Trying to come down just outside NAIS or the Davion Palace directly would have minimized reaction time, but it would have also exposed his force to the maximum possible defensive firepower from anti-air weapons emplacements. Emplacements designed to rapidly stop flying tanks on suicide runs. Most of his Mechs (based on the after-action reports from the planets he had hit) were not designs with integral jump jets, meaning they would be forced to use bolt-on rocket packs to land safely. Effective systems for what they did, but being lightly constructed and, you know, filled with rocket fuel, even shell splinters from flak bursts had a decent chance of disabling one and dooming the Mech to be Sir Isaac Newton's latest bitch.
Hence, his coming down off to the side like this where he would also have plenty of room to form up free of immediate threats … and still obscure his final target while being close enough to strike quickly. Keeping the initiative without us able to do a damn thing about it. I mean, if we still had aerospace fighters, they could have done horrible things to the falling Battlemechs which were near helpless in a drop like this. Or if we had an artillery regiment handy, well, if you knew which grid squares they were arriving in, grid square removal was a perfectly valid option...
And while I was wishing for what we didn’t have, why not wish everyone in our company was driving Hellstars too? I silently snorted to myself. Or a friendly singing Battleship in low orbit? I mean, some heavy Naval PPC fire to the DC LZ would be really handy about … now!
…
No seriously, drakensis, if you are around, now's the time.
…
Well fine then! Guess we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way!
Wishes for M6 Self-Insertion ortillary aside, the order of battle seemed to match the expectations - grim as they were. Kurita by our reports would have a hundred and Seventy Battlemechs to play with, giving him a glut of forces able to hit multiple locations at the same time if he wished, leaving big questions about how he was going to play this. NAIS was an obvious target as was the Davion Palace. Both were equally accessible across the Peace Park at roughly the same distance - and both were targets likely to draw Hanse Davion out onto the field. Albion was more of a secondary target and while Avalon City itself had innumerable targets of political and economic value that could be hit … that didn’t feel right.
I mean, if this had been a Sword of Light unit, I’m sure at least a battalion of fast movers would have been sent with orders to move through the city and set as many soft ‘targets of opportunity’ on fire with inferno rockets as they could for the Greater Glory of the Dragon.
But that wasn’t why this Kurita was here.
Accordingly, we were expecting the main thrust of the first attack to be against the NAIS itself. It was both the single biggest strategic threat to the Draconis Combine in the long term and it held the biggest defensive force in the AO. Kurita would want to crush them as quickly as he could with his full force because if he could pull that off - trashing as much of the NAIS in the process as he could - then he could regroup and look to advance on Mount Davion by daybreak, without the risk of being hit from behind.
Standing in his way was the NAIS defense force. Built around Team Banzai’s lead battalion (‘The Hong Kong Cavaliers’) they were backed up by a significant amount of static-defenses Hanse had quietly installed just in case ComStar had come calling and a scratch battalion made up of the very best NAIS and Albion final year Mechwarrior cadets in their machines. Green and untested, they were also -to a person- volunteers.
Aggressive volunteers in fact - who had come dangerously close to insubordination in their insistence to be allowed to join the battle rather than be evacuated to New Scotland with the rest of the cadet corps.
They were led by a mix of their instructors and a handful of AFFS officers activated from the reserves - low-level nobility who had kept up with their training enough to be considered deployment worthy. Mostly to gain access to the AFFS logistics machine for their family Battlemechs I’m sure, but they had jumped at the call so perhaps I was doing them a disservice.
Even so, I’m sure Hanse hadn’t intended for them to do more than backstop Banzai and mop up whatever survived the aerospace cordon and the Swordsworn ... but you know, ‘No Battle Plan survives contact with the enemy’.
Two thousand years and Moltke the Elder is still taking everyone to school I thought with a snort.
There were also two units from the New Avalon Crucis March Militia edging onto my tactical map. One was coming out of the Davion Palace hangar like us; a company of tanks rolling out into the night after us to provide backup and/or a backstop if we ****** up. Over in Avalon City there was a mixed regiment of much lighter urban combat vehicles of various kinds plus one Battlemech company of trooper mediums for heavy support moving with a purpose towards the enemy LZ from the North West.
Not that they were insane enough to charge it … I hoped.
Their orders were to screen the city against intrusion - and even that was a rather tall order for them given their light combat power. Still, in theory, they should be able to pull back in a fighting retreat if necessary. Hopefully slowing the enemy down long enough for Morgan to drop at some pre-selected emergency LZs deeper in the city. And if Kurita did as we expected and threw his full force North or South East?
Well, a Pike or a Scorpion might be a bit of a joke, but if they kept up a constant rain of light shells on your rear armor while you were trying to focus on a bigger threat…
In any event, their job was to contain, not to confront. That ... was our job.
Yay ****** us...
I mean, by 3025 benchmarks, we were running some very nasty units. Hanse was in the lead with three bodyguards, all of them in identical Battlemaster BLR-1Gb’s from Helm to help him confuse headhunter units. Even by 3060s standards, those Mechs were nasty front-line platforms, with near identical weapons to my design and even more heat sink capacity and armor. The second lance was made up of a quartet of CN9-A Centurions fresh off the production line at Corean's factory. No advanced-technology, but solid troopers with their pilots drawn from the pool of qualified but dispossessed AFFS Mechwarriors on New Avalon (who had been almost disturbingly emotional about being given a chance to pilot a Battlemech into action again when asked, I’d never get the damn Mech cult).
The final lance was led by Jackson in his mothers Archer, with me at his side and two Enforcers piloted by a couple of Hanse’s old war buddies from the Avalon Hussars; Jonny and Jimmy, rounding out the unit. Contemporaries of the titans who had fought with Hanse in the 3015 days (in fact, former members of Dana Stephenson’s command lance) they had not stayed in the AFFS like Ardan or Ran Felsner but had taken early retirement to become test pilots on New Avalon for NAIS Advanced Projects at Hanse’s invitation.
Their sudden arrival had been a surprise until it was found out Ardan had, after reading through the events of the 4th Succession War, tagged them in to keep an eye on Hanse if he was off world and someone came knocking to New Avalon … and so, without so much as a ‘by-your-leave’, they had dropped in and assigned themselves into his Command Company, to the Princes tolerant amusement.
Privately, they had told Morgan and myself a couple of days ago they were here because, as Ardan knew well, Dana would have wanted them to protect Hanse. That Melissa was by all accounts an entirely worthy and wonderful woman who did not deserve Hanse ‘doing something stupid’ (Ardans words, not theirs) and ‘pulling an Ian Davion’.
Heartwarming sure, but honestly, I was just happy that their well-known skill next to me meant a better chance of living, rather than having two of the hordes of questionable nobles who had been trying to squeeze their way into the last slots in his command company, as if this was a bloody photo op they could leverage down the line…
Yeah, no.
This was never going to be a cake walk, even before Yorinaga Kurita had played us all for chumps. And now? Well, the enemy had landed in the darkness of night, intact and in concentrated force. A one way trip where success was not measured by being alive when the guns went silent, but by how much damage they could do before they died. There were dozens of high-value targets in the area whose loss would cause no end of problems for the Federated Suns, which we had to at least try and defend. Fully half of ‘our’ team were green rookies with reinforcements a considerable time away. Oh, and there were millions of civilians in the region who could easily be targeted in the crossfire - with Hanse Davion himself, the most HVT of HVTs, on the field and running to the sound of the guns-
“... I’m charging right into an X-Com Terror Mission” I muttered to myself as we waited, shaking my head in exasperation for a moment - then deeply regretting my indirect taunting of Murphey moments later when the Watch Officer declared the start of the ‘hidden movement’ phase.
“Alert! Enemy infantry are attacking the Davion Palace! I say again, enemy infantry - some kind of air-mobile force using gliders or parafoils - are HALO dropping onto the palace and breaching the upper levels! Estimate thirty plus, they came right out of the damn sensor clutter, we didn’t see them until they hit! We have multiple breaches…”
Ah, so that’s where the surviving DEST teams went …on reflection, perhaps it was a good thing I hadn’t sat this one out in my bedroom?
The Watch officer sounded rather outraged at the sheer chutzpah of the enemy in making such a move and from the hisses over that company feed, I got the feeling that most of the people around me were of the same mind as several Battlemechs twisted to look back at the Palace still looming over us, bursts of light from the very top that were probably high explosive breaching charges going off visible even from down here.
Personally, I couldn’t help but be silently impressed as the enemy commandos went full Command and Conquer Shadow Team on us. Flying in behind the lines, using the massive sensor clutter of the dropships debris trail -possibly seeded with decoy pods spitting out electronic hash and chaff bursts - to breach special forces in while everyone was looking downrange at the massive force of Battlemechs...
How had Peptuck put NODs MO in Tiberium Wars? Oh yeah; ‘Distract with a broadsword, then stab with a dagger.’ Sounded legit.
Say what you will about the man, but Yorinaga was damn well making his last battle a magnum opus that would probably be studied for years...
“Home-Plate, confirm Blue-Ultimate in effect” Hanse personally cut into the line and while his voice was as cool and in command as ever, the fact that he had just broken radio silence (albeit by LOS lasercom) told me all I needed to know where his thoughts were going.
Melissa…
“Knight One, Home Plate, confirming Blue-Ultimate is in effect” the man replied after a few seconds, his voice crisping up and putting aside the emotion, as if chided by his Princes calm response. Blue Ultimate I think meant that Melissa’s ‘get offsite to a black safehouse out of the city’ plan was being put into operation.
There was no real risk to her, given she was deep inside the mountain and the DEST were hitting the very top, but …
Damnit Smith, stop taunting Murphy!!
“Counter-assault teams are moving to engage enemy infiltrators in the castle and we are sealing the Den. Threat Status; Zulu” the Watch officer concluded the report.
I dared not tempt Murphy again by mentally dismissing the infantry action as anything more than grandstanding ... but unless they had backpack nukes, it was hard to see how they could do much real damage beyond the purely symbolic. A platoon of commandos against an entire battalion of crack assault infantry on their home turf - with plenty of our own special forces teams and entire regiments of elite infantry ready to back them up if needed?
On the other hand, as far as glorious Kuritan gestures went, shooting up Hanse Davions Throne Room and blowing up his office or something would go a long way in ISF propaganda…
Gods I was already cringing thinking about the horrible movies they would make of this whole invasion. I had seen a couple at Sark in one of my classes and bloody hell they were more over the top
“Sire, do we head back?” one of Davions Bodyguards asked carefully on the open command channel. And I strongly suspect Hanse was tempted - it wasn’t just Melissa who was in danger, but it was his home that was being attacked.
But he was made of sterner stuff than even most of his peers - and was ruthlessly pragmatic on the battlefield to boot.
“No - we can do much more out here. The Guards battalion can handle it” he said in a confident tone, as if the invasion was nothing but a minor sideshow - which I suppose it was, but damn - “we have our own work ahead of us”.
Well, at least they’re not Chryssalids I mentally thought, trying to see the positives. And I’m sure that Hanse openly putting his faith in the Guards infantry like that will rev them up something fierce…
“I have a visual on enemy burns” Jackson Davion cut in curtly, drawing our attention back into the dark of the night sky. Dread filled me now as hundreds of falling points of light appeared as Jump Jets and Jump Packs ignited in the distance. Seemingly too low and late, but at the last second each of their plunges seemed to slow ... then cut out.
“Enemy Mechs are touching down, Grids Echo Three, Six and Seven” the Watch officer stated flatly. “Count now revised to one-seven-zero. Stand by for tactical feed update …” and true to her word a few seconds later my board flashed as it switched from the air-defense feed to a ground defense feed, mashed together from innumerable sensor systems across the AO from below ground to low orbit, firming up as the last of the dropship clutter started to fade away.
It … was not a pretty picture.
With depressing speed and efficiency that rivaled anything I’d seen from the Davion Guards, the Genyosha had already formed up and were moving out - even before the last of the Mechs had touched down. Against all statistical probabilities, it seemed that every one of their Battlemechs had landed safely, despite their rather unique dynamic entry.
Magic Bushido Hands or not, that was ****** impressive and reinforced, if I needed any more sphincter clenching hints, that these were some of the finest Draconis Mechwarriors around from a culture that took ‘Cult of the Mechwarrior’ to obscene levels.
Professional too; they didn’t even take a minute to give a few ‘Banzai!’ cheers of praise to the Dragon for being the first DCMS troops to invade the capital of the hated-yet-NOTICEMESEMPAI Federated Suns.
In less than ninety seconds the picture was presenting to me at least four clear units of Mechs moving with a dreadful purpose … and faster than they should be moving.
MUCH faster. Hang on a second-
“Alert; analysis of sensor data is confirming enemy units are moving significantly faster than expected. We have a high confidence assessment that a large proportion of the enemy are running Triple Strength Myomer technology…” the Watch officer confirmed my sudden suspicion and I resisted the urge to scream ‘HAX!’ down the open line like a Counter Strike Beta 5 player, cira 2000...
A stock take of the warehouses the Genyosha had hit on Kirklin confirmed enough TSM refit kits had been looted to just about refit their entire force. But opinion had been divided of if they would send it back to the Combine for analysis and refit (with major arguments at the time about how much the Capellan Confederation had shared with the Combine from Justin Allards highly successful raiding missions) or, if they actually had the techs on hand to retrofit their force …
It seemed we had the answer. It was not the ‘good’ answer.
I had taken cautious optimism (or perhaps just had blind hope) that my Mech - also retrofit with the TSM technology as were all the other defenders - would be fast enough to keep the distance open and abuse the hell out of my ER-PPCs range, firepower and ‘Mechs Freezers to grind down enemies.
That … now looked to be rather less certain.
Of course, the conformation that the enemy was using TSM now parked a McKenna sized elephant on the battlefield for Hanse and I couldn’t help but glance over at his Battlemaster a couple of hundred meters away. If our good friends in the Genyosha were all (or even mostly) running TSM...then we now had an option to, as Grand Moff Tarkin would say, ‘Crush the Genyosha with one swift stroke!’
But … I knew that wasn’t going to happen. And I had only myself to blame.
Sure, it would win the battle in a minute … but at the cost of robbing Hanse of Operation Lactic, the final act of the 4th Succession War Hanse had been meticulously planning ever since I dumped my knowledge onto him.
I was the one who had loudly criticized Hanse Davions whole TSM plot with Justin as an overworked and ultimately underperforming gambit after all.
Although my objections seemingly had done little but get Hanse Davion in direct competition … with himself. And at least on paper, LACTIC promised to be spectacular.
So, I could see that holding back the catalyst gas was absolutely the right decision to make on a strategic level - and if this was a Battletech RP, I’d probably have made the same one without hesitation in Hanse’s place.
But, I couldn’t dispute that things looked a lot different from the front line.
In any event, increasing data was flowing in about the four Combine units and I redirected my focus there, where it belonged. A Two-Company sized force was pushing for Avalon City and the light industrial areas nearest to their LZ, much of which was made up of companies subcontracted by NAIS to build useful bits and pieces for them (no doubt the ISF had given them a list of what factories would be the best to blow up). The Brigade of the Crucis March Militia was moving forward hard in response and good luck to them - they were going to need it. A second DCMS force was heading south east from their LZ, looked like four Lances worth moving to sweep for any hidden units and possibly push on Albion. The third force was heading North but also shifting East - so at us I was happy to note - putting themselves in a comparable position to screen the main body and possibly come at the NAIS from the North.
And that main body…
It looked like a full Regiment was on the march, neatly forming into three battalion sized groupings close enough to concentrate, but loose enough to render any long-range artillery or air strikes of limited use (not that we had either to hand, but they didn’t know that). The designs were very thin on lights, mostly mediums and heavies clearly mounting TSM - or at least their slower Mechs had been upgraded, because their formations ground speed was holding at over 60KPH including Assaults, which would put them in contact with the outer defense perimeter at NAIS in … eight minutes?!
Christ, that was way too fast! Morgan wouldn’t be here for at least thirty!
Hanse Davion, unsurprisingly, had clearly done the same math. And reacted as only a Davion would.
“Knight Company, we’re going in. Kick it up to seventy and stay close. Maintain passive posture until I say so” and with that, the Battlemaster in the lead started stomping off.
Unsurprisingly, Jackson Davion was right behind him (proving it had to be genetic) in punching the throttle as I advanced my own stride with a sigh that would have done Kif Kroker proud, moving across the peace park, dodging the numerous monuments there as we headed South-East at high speed.
The northern DCMS screening force seemed to be pulling apart now. A company was moving forward very aggressively, it indeed looked certain they were going to try and circle around and hit the NAIS from the North - in conjunction with a mirrored attack from the southern flanking force and the main body, a multi axis-attack they would split the defenders attention three ways. A lance was trailing them and ‘floating’ a bit more North, seemingly screening the entire force for anything coming at them from the palace.
Like, you know, us.
Here however the home ground advantage counted for a lot and Hanse was clearly eager to make every use of it as we left the Peace Park behind. Between the end of the park and the NAIS itself were the training grounds used extensively by the College of Military Science for exercises. They were covered in all manner of remote sensors at ground level to keep a track on the cadets latest facepalm worthy attempt to reenact something they’d seen on a Solaris video and the buried fibre optic feeds were going straight into the Fox’s Den, meaning the staff were able to keep very exact track of the enemy was without us needing to use any active sensors. With that advantage and running passive, Hanse was able to guide us around a cluster of sensor null-zone hills … and right onto the six of the trailing Lance with perfect timing, accelerating into an attack run as we climbed a hill, edging around slightly as they changed course onto their seven o’clock.
The data feed updated steadily to show that we were chasing one Catapult in the rear, two Dragons ahead of it and one Vulcan drifting beyond them to the North, clearly the picket unit ready to spot and call down long range fire if it saw anything heading their way from the palace, having missed us as we slid through the shadows of night.
With a deep breath, I transferred the tactical feed into my fire control systems, four boxes materializing on my HUD where the enemy would be after we cleared the reverse slope we were charging up. Seconds later a flashing orange circle snapped onto the red box outlining the Catapult meaning I had just been assigned that as my target and I adjusted my torso accordingly, trying to stop myself from squeezing the grips too tight as everyone called in their readiness. Orders came in; engage assigned targets at acquisition and my entire world narrowed in on that holographic picture as we crested the hill -
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That was what I always would remember.
That it happened so fast.
-No conscious thought, no thinking at all really as the distant enemy Battlemechs materialized, the red boxes on my HUD shifting ever so slightly to fix themselves on the vaguely humanoid things in the distance as my active sensors went online and corrected the firing solution. The floating crosshair of my primary interlock flashed gold as the crosshairs moved perfectly into place, a low tone in my ears confirming target lock-
I’d like to say that I hesitated before I tried to take a human life for the first time, reflecting that if I did this, there would be no going back, ever. Realizing this wasn’t the tabletop; real people were going to die now …
But that would be a complete lie,
I’m honest enough with myself to admit that much. I didn’t see a man just starting to react in a panic to the sirens no doubt screaming in his ears. I just saw a target like in oh so many Mechwarrior games or training simulations. The training took over and, to quote Shinji Ikari, ‘I positioned the target in the centre and pulled the switch’.
Twin violet particle beams ripped downrange, their glare briefly washing out the green night vision image as they were joined by eight other identical streams from the four Battlemasters next to me, the collective volley of raw energy smashing into the rear of the enemy at a range just barely inside that a standard PPC should have been able to hit but for me, was optimal range.
The poor bastard didn’t have a chance.
Even a Clan Assault Omni would have balked at getting hit in the back by ten ERPPC blasts simultaneously and a Catapult -as well a designed machine as it was- wasn’t that. A massive explosion washed my screen at that point for a moment as the unfired racks of Long Range Missiles inside the Mech detonated, tearing the Mech appart without any possibility that the man had been able to eject in time.
I just didn’t think about that at the time, smoothly switching my track as the CPLT icon vanished and my ERPPCs started their cooling and reset cycle. LRMs were already in the air - I hadn’t even noticed them being fired- but I tracked them now as their rocket motors burned out high, the missiles tipping over to come falling back to New Avalon with increasing speed as they homed in on their distant targets.
Long Range Missiles moved considerably slower than PPC blasts, meaning the Dragon pilots had enough time to A) Notice that the Catapult behind them was being dispersed in a considerable number of pieces, B) Their EW gear was screaming LOCK-ON warnings at them and C) A whole buttload missile tracks were heading in rather more than their general direction. Accordingly, I was entirely unsurprised that the two Dragons immediately split left and right, forcing the missiles to choose a target and spend some of their limited momentum correcting. Then, at the very last second as the warheads plunged down, the pilots pushed their machines to the limit to haul around back at us, accelerating to try and duck under the incoming salvo in a skidding turn.
It was a tactic taught in most Successor State academies, mostly as a ‘do not do this!’ lesson because it was of limited effectiveness unless you were Godlike in a Mech or the enemy was a bad shot on the edge of range and you could react in time. Battlemechs had far more inertia than a missile after all and trying to out turn them more often then not just resulted in you falling over and doing more damage on top of the missile hits..
So, it was with some degree of awe that I watched the Genyosha pilots actually pull it off, managing to dodge two thirds of the missiles with a last second twist and acceleration, taking the scattered impacts without any care. My EW board chirped as their targeting sensors sent live, the Mechs now running back at us as we ran at them, their signals focusing-
Oh shit!
The shells from the Dragons Imperator-A autocannons were being fired at very long range - right on the very edge of effective range really. As a result one missed completely, the tracer zipping past at ludicrous speeds. The other shell nicked my side torso, the angular framework of my Battlemech saving me as the arcing 60mm shell failed to bite into my Ferro-Fibrous armor and simply glanced off. It left a battle scar in my khaki paintwork, but no penetration that would cause any serious armor ablation.
The scream of the impact right next to me however was mildly terrifying for how loud it was, making it pointedly clear that someone had just tried to kill me.
I guessed that with a split second to pick a target, a modified Royal variant Marauder standing alone seemed to stand out a little bit as a possible command mech for this company given its reputation?
Well … that wasn’t good...
In any case, I honestly got off rather lightly for my first ever exchange of live fire as the LRM launchers on the Dragons now threw their own Delta Dart™ missiles into the air to hit broadly across our line, clearly trying to rattle or distract all of us as they sprinted forward at full throttle.
A bad tactic that; twenty LRMs sprayed indirectly across twelve units was thin coverage with few hits - but it provided a distraction as they closed.
Yes, despite being outnumbered 6-1 they were charging us, rather than using their superior speed to disengage…
And targeting me!
“Drop to forty and engage by Lance, orient at your discretion” Hanse snapped the order and with that the Enforcers opened fire, cobalt blue laser beams slashing across into the ‘left’ Dragon and ripping armor from its right arm and torso as we decelerated to reduce the closure rate. The damage didn’t dissuade its pilot however, the Dragon dancing almost lightly off to its left, bobbing and weaving with incredible skill as it zigged and zagged an evasive course as it closed in. I mentally cursed the pathetic Battletech fire control technology as I tried to swing my arms in response, the PPCs having recharged but the enemy stubbornly refusing to give me a clean shot, magically flowing away from my crosshairs as I tried to line it up!
The second Dragon was trying to do much the same - right until it took three nearly simultaneous 80mm shell bursts at the worst possible time. It’s pilot spectacularly failed their piloting roll as the shells tore off armor in every direction and unbalanced it, its foot slewing and sending the Battlemech crashing to the ground in a heap, dirt spraying everywhere as it rolled to a stop in a way that would surely have left the pilot feeling like a rock in a rock tumbler-
BANG!
This time the autocannon impact was much squarer, the armor piercing explosive shell smashing into my Mech. I was rocked back - but my training and/or the advanced SLDF neuro-gyro link did its job - and jerked my attention back to my Dragon where it belonged. A snatched glance at the armor display in my HUD showed the shell had struck the thickest part of my armor that covered my Mechs hip actuator and flaked off some of the Ferro Fibrous protection with a yellow smudge, but it was hardly worth noting. All hail the Vampire who hath given its life to protect me!
It was still mildly aggravating, given that they didn’t make that armor anymore. And now mildly aggravated I snatched my arms up, finally got the target lock indicator, fired-
- and I missed.
Don’t know if the ****** had seen the twitch of my arms and dodged to the right, like I was cosplaying Vlad Ward and he Phelan Kell, but his timing was perfect as the beams ripped past him to explode some poor inoffensive tree that had been minding its own business.
This guy was good - I mean, not physics breaking like Natasha Kerensky had been without even trying hard, but clearly someone who had earned his place here on considerable merit. Indeed, alone, I was entirely convinced this guy would hand me my ass on a platter.
But as Galadriel had pointed out to Sauron in ‘The Battle of the Five Armies’: I was not alone.
A barrage of particle beams again overloaded my night vision as the Battlemasters tore into him from the side; six of the eight PPC blasts smashing with brutal thermal and physical force into the Dragon, sending half deformed plates of armor flying in every direction.
Again, showing off his skill, the Draconis Mechwarrior managed to sort of skid and stagger to a halt and not fall over. Of course, this was something of a mixed blessing as it left him a near stationary target just within medium laser range. And as he was being so agreeable, a barrage of scarlet beams reached out from Jackson’s Archer and the Enforcers to my left to tear through the damaged armor into the creamy nougat center.
But again, somehow, the Dragon didn’t fall.
Oh its right arm was torn away as structural members liquified, smoke was pouring from breaches all over its torso and it looked like ammo was dumping out his back ... but the crazy ****** refused to eject … and now was trying to bring his left arm around at-
****** that! Die Puff!
Heat spiked into my cockpit as coherent light crossed the distance between us over a couple of hundred nanoseconds, ripping into the mangled machine. There was a loud crack and a spark of white that flooded my night vision yet again - then, like a puppet with its strings cut, the Dragon collapsed to the ground in a heap. A heartbeat later, its twin joined it off to the right. It had somehow managed to get back to its feet despite the Centurions gleefully raking their own medium lasers into it, slicing off armor and structural components, but it was the four Battlemasters that twisted their torsos in unison to add a precisely targeted barrage of pulse laser fire that critted the reactor and sent it face planting into the ground.
“Reform - and move out, standard speed!” Hanse ordered without missing a beat and just like that we were stepping over and past the burning wrecks - and dead Mechwarriors. Notations appeared on my tactical map - the work of either Jackson or Hanse - for three destroyed enemy Mechs and I knew infantry would eventually arrive to check on the Mechwarriors and see if they were alive, but somehow, I knew none of them had survived that brutal encounter. The heat had not quite reached the level in my Mech to impact my movement and was fading fast anyway so I had no problem reforming the line as we marched onwards, automatically falling into line with the rest of the company as I ran my gaze over-
Then I blinked.
It only hit me then that I had just helped kill several people. And not in some abstract way from a war room, but on the battlefield with my own direct weapons fire.
And I didn’t really feel … anything. Not good, not bad.
And ... I didn’t know how to feel about not feeling.
“John, you okay?” a voice cut into my channel - Jackson Davions - and I snapped out of my introspection, running a tri-sweep over my armor status, internals status and system status readouts.
“Minimal armor damage - no internal damage, heat in the green” I responded automatically. The medium laser blast so soon after the PPC discharge had pushed my heat beyond the ‘neutral’ level but not quite enough to impact my Mech’s performance and the Freezers were already sucking that right out and venting it into the night air.
There was a pause - I belatedly realized Jackson had been trying to check something other than my Battlemechs status - but a ping sounded in my earphones along with a flash on my HUD and the line promptly closed as he also got the sensor update. And I took the chance to push any concerns about my mental state to the side. If I lived, there would be plenty of time to Shinji Ikari, right now, I really wanted to survive.
And the only way to do that was to kill the other poor bastards before they killed me.
“Contact, Vulcan, twenty-five hundred at zero seven five” Jimmy called. As the closest Mech to the target, it was on him to validate the contact. “He’s stationary, scanning us”.
“Identified” Jackon confirmed as his torso twisted slightly, the two armored covers on his massive LRM racks snapping open.
I quickly twisted my focused sensor feed to bring it to zero-seven-five and magnified, switching over to thermal imaging … yes, there it was on top of a rise in the distance. Looking right at us, the cheeky bugger. He was also out of ER-PPC range but at this closing speed he wouldn’t be so for long - damnit!
“He’s moving off, very high speed” Jimmy pointed out unnecessarily as the tiny anti-infantry Mech spun and shot off like a bat out of hell, seemingly not wanting to be the recipient of the attention of an entire company of Battlemechs that had just made mincemeat of his lancemates.
“He’s spotting for the rest of the company” Hanse observed. “Keep on course for NAIS for now”
The Vulcan appeared twice more over the next minute, holding roughly the same separation and clearly keeping an eye on us as we closed in on the NAIS and onto the tail of the enemy force also heading for it, waiting to see how they would react as I very much doubted they would let us sandwich them between our guns and those of the NAIS defenders.
Big surprise I ended up 100% right on that call.
“Knight company, be advised the Northernmost battalion of the main body is breaking off a company in your direction - and your primary target is shifting course” the distant voice of the Watch Officer came back and indeed on the tactical map I could see twelve red blips peel away from that formation on a course for us - at high speed, curving around the extreme range of the NAIS defenses - to come after us. Meanwhile, the unit we were chasing was starting to break off and come around...
“Excellent” Hanse said and I could hear that grin in his voice - as if he had been waiting for this. “Full throttle people!” and with that, we started to move pushing our speed up close to 80KPH as we pushed our enhanced muscles to their operational limit as we pressed harder against the enemy we were chasing.
Move, counter-move, counter-counter-move and so on. It was like a game of speed chess and now the lead enemy company was edging North, looking like they planned to swing wide around our flank as we charged in before engaging us from there, perhaps presuming we had no active track on them. We in turn shifted our course to intercept, then the Vulcan jumped into the air again, saw our move and that we were cutting the corner and the enemy promptly kicked into full speed sprint North for a couple of minutes, before starting again to curve to the West.
Their counter move was clearly designed to bring us back towards the East in pursuit, into the path of their buddies coming up from the South. My guess was that at the right time, both companies would start to engage us, breaking up to hit with the kind of fast slashing attacks the DCMS loved to engage with, thinking they could use their superior agility to offset out superior mass and firepower.
Clearly, they didn’t appreciate almost half of us were running Extended-range heavy weapons or that we were tracking them in real time.
But it was a textbook example of how to isolate and deal with a much heavier but slower Battlemech Force and so it seemed we had played directly into their hands … right up until Hanse Davion showed them that he was in fact on very good terms with the ghost of Moltke the Elder.
Thirty-six projectiles moving at just under Mach 5 tore through the Combine formation with no warning or time for the Combine Mechwarriors to appreciate their fate. That the end result of their efforts of trying to ‘cunningly’ lure us into a trap … was for Hanse Davion to promptly twist their maneuvering into a part of his maneuvering and lead them into a trap … from behind.
Apparently, this was the kind of thing you just learned to roll with when you were in Hanse Davions command company
Downrange, the lead two Phoenix Hawk Battlemechs were nailed with five and six direct hits respectively, obliterating the gyro on the lead Mech and demolishing the torso structural integrity on the second through sheer blunt force trauma, as it were. In both cases that level of damage would have been catastrophic ... but given they were both running at near 100 KPH at the time?
Huh. So Battlemechs could dig their own graves by falling over at high speed. Guess I owed DD fifty pounds...
The Shadow Hawks flanking the two lead Mechs were no better off though. One died as its fusion reactor was not quite torn open, a burning halo of silver plasma blazing for a moment with flashes of discharging static electricity before it too spun to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, rolling wildly along the ground and sending salvage in every direction. The second simply exploded as one of the slugs managed to find an ammo bin. And even though the hypersonic projectiles were not explosive per se, an inelastic collision of that force was still more energy than the cannon shells wanted to deal with and the Battlemech was flung through the air as the ammo bins chained, crashing to the ground in an impressive shower of dirt and rock as it went literally head-over-heels.
And with that, the lead enemy lance (and presumed Commander) was dead. Not one of the pilots had ejected, not one of the wrecks on the ground was moving.
The last two Mechs targeted, Wolverines each leading a trio of Jenners, were rather luckier. One ‘only’ had its arm wrenched and immobilized at the shoulder and a great deal of armor torn through shearing forces from its chest, while the second, as best as I could tell, had all the rounds targeted at it zip past it in clean misses through some kind of black magic.
After that display, if I wasn’t already a card-carrying-member of the Cult of Gauss, that display would have probably convinced me, no question. The Alacorn Mark VI Assault tank was the next best thing to a 28th century Tank Destroyer (or more specifically, Mech destroyer) that existed in Battletech. Mounting three massive Gauss Rifles in a turret with plenty of ammo, armor and excellent electronics, it was a deadly machine in the Star League days and would have been so again in the post Clan Invasion timeline when reintroduced by the FedCom in canon. There was an elegant simplicity to its design that could make even hardened Cult of Mechwarrior types, absolutely confident in their latest Omnimechs superiority, stop and think very carefully about their next move upon sighting one. Those who didn’t tended to flip the tabletop over screaming ‘HAX!’ when they were head capped before all their cheesy Clantech could be put into proper use...
But in 3025? Damn thing was an apex predator!
Out of the darkness, they now rumbled forward from the hull down positions Hanse had ordered them into and they had just barely reached, firing purely off their turret optics on manual control with commendable accuracy, as he ‘chased’ the DCMS forces right into their gunsights with carefully calculated course changes in our pursuit. Their turrets were already swinging to track their next targets with their fire control systems going active as the Mechs continued to charge towards them, the Mechwarriors now faced with a cruel choice. Either they held their course and tried to engage head on with their much shorter ranged and lighter weapons (aka suicide by Coilgun), or, they tried to evade and flank - which was problematic given that at full TSM speed, their gyros would probably snap if they tried any major course change -
… huh … right. Okay, they could also do that I suppose.
Funny thing about jump jets - what Battletech would call their ‘jump value’ was more or less the distance you could hop from a standing start on level ground. However, experienced Mechwarriors could get a lot more play out of their jets - if they were running at full speed and then triggered and used them carefully, you could move a lot further than strict Tabletop rules suggested you could. A stock Phoenix Hawk for example could easily fly over three hundred meters if it got a full speed running start. Not quite Mechwarrior 2 levels of hilarity, but a surprising amount of ground nonetheless. Or, you could burn them harder to go much higher, while still moving forward on inertia … like they were doing now.
All eight of the surviving Combine Battlemechs becoming visible to us in the air as we charged over a rise into extreme range of them. Our four Centurions had peeled off to the right to pincer the Vulcan that had suddenly realized it was trapped - and from the sharp heavy barks of Luxor D-Series autocannons in that general direction, they were engaging with gusto. I in turn tried to lead one of the Jenners in the air and fired (it wasn’t as if my ERPPCs needed ammo l) but missed cleanly along with Hanse’s three bodyguards who made similar attempts.
Hanse (of course) didn’t miss, nailing his Jenner with a pair of ERPPC blasts to its right leg that sheared it clean off. Although the flight control system quickly killed the other jump jets, it wasn’t fast enough to stop an immediate yaw to its right developing that could only end one way. The Mechwarrior however, showing truly impressive focus and dedication cooly twisted his torso in mid-air to keep on target and get his shots off before punching out.
The four missiles - joined moments later by a barrage from every other Mech in the air, had just enough range from their boosted launch height to reach out and splatter all over the twelve massive assault tanks - and I winced, forced to kill the thermals and go to a straight visual as the image washed out in white light.
On the Tabletop game, Inferno SRMs were pretty much the ‘make those annoying vehicles go away!’ button players mashed to keep the game one of giant walking robots, not tanks. In reality (at least this one) it was a somewhat more nuanced weapon in that role - although still just as horrific to PBI’s. Infernos could be absolutely lethal to ICE powered vehicles (especially the more simplified vehicles used in the Succession Wars) whose combustion engines had to suck in constant streams of oxygen and vent gas. Lighter vehicles tended to just die if covered in the stuff and the less said about a hovercrafts life expectancy when covered in inferno gel, the better.
Heavy fusion powered armored vehicles however were a very different beast in reality. Of course, in 3025 fusion powered combat vehicles were rather thin on the ground - and well designed ones like Defiances new Patton and Rommel were even more rare. So it was understandable when confronted with an unknown vehicle that the DCMS troops responded as all Mechwarriors were trained to; ‘apply fire liberally and mark that location for a burial detail to visit later’.
Unfortunately for them, the Star League Defense Force had set down the design specs for the massive 95-ton Mech Killer after lessons learned the hard way through the Reunification War. Lessons like ‘skimping on vehicle robustness was a good way for a very expensive, very valuable tank to be lost to some ****** with access to a SRM-Launcher, apartment window and major hard on for killing Terrans’. So it was that after a few moments, all twelve tanks rolled out of the inferno.
On fire mind you, but pretty much no-selling the attack joke the less, inferno gel dripping onto the grass and leaving a trail of fire as their turrets seemed to swing around wildly for targets-
“Gold Company, back up, now!” Hanse Davion snapped and from the sheer command in his voice the tanks stopped and then threw themselves into reverse with the kind of torque only electric engines could provide, back into the fire! What the-
Ah. Right. Newton.
My momentary confusion over why Hanse had ordered them back into the fire was answered as eight Battlemechs crashed into the soil of New Avalon, some just barely missing the tanks they had clearly been aiming at.
Realizing their mistake with the SRMs and/or just wanting to make sure, the Combine Mechwarriors maximum height jump had sent them plunging down in a Death from Above Attack with barely enough gas in the jets to lock in their course at the apex of their leap. And with the tanks visual, IR and Night Vision systems blind thanks to the coat of flames…hell it might even have worked.
If not for Hanse Davion.
I’ll give them credit though, every single one of the Mechwarriors yanked the ejection lever, getting clear just barely in time. A couple of parachutes even came terrifyingly close to dropping right into the fire before a gust of wind blew them clear … and that was it for these twelve Battlemechs.
No, make that thirteen - that Vulcan trying to run to the East had just died from heavy metal poisoning. Not surprising given the sheer amount of depleted uranium the Centurians had just injected into it...
“Home plate, Knight one, we have eight hostile dismounts at my position, note for pickup” Hanse called out on the command frequency before switching to us, clearly not wanting to waste time, having dealt with this Northern diversion. “Knights, stand by to halt and reserve course on my mark … by the left … mark!”
At that we all pulled our throttles back as rapidly as we could without falling over. I bit my lip as I felt my Mech stumble a little on less than sure ground, but held steady as I decelerated into the turn, staying glued to Jackson Davions side before we finished and pushed the throttle back up to 40KPH.
“Knights, we are going in with Gold company” Hanse got back on the radio as the four Centurions hastened back over to join us as the twelve Tanks in turn shook themselves off and rumbled quickly after us, ignoring the DC Mechwarriors sort of standing around as the last of the inferno gel burned itself out, their paint job ruined but their combat capacity unimpaired.
Come to think of it, that was interesting.
The Dragon pilots had gone all out Kamikaze but these MechWarriors had, high risk attacks aside, been fully prepared to eject rather than die a futile death?
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I pondered the contradiction before dismissing it in favor of concentrating ahead. The low sky ahead of us took on a hellish orange glow now as thousands of long-range rockets rippled in sequence into the sky, a counterpoint manmade thunderstorm of PPC fire only adding to the awesome yet terrifying scene as Kurita started his attack and the NAIS defenders returned fire. We were still about four minutes out – but given the speed of these things, it should be just enough time for us to get into position to the North of the enemy and, with the massive open grounds around the NAIS, make maximum use of our Gauss and ERPPC’s terrible range to wreak havoc and start drilling into his flank.
All we needed to do was slow down and delay Kurita long enough for Morgan. Just slow him for Morgan … it was a mantra I kept repeating to myself.
Of course, in hindsight what I should have been repeating to myself is ‘okay, if Yorinaga Kurita is cosplaying NOD, what would you do next when attacking a well-fortified base?”
Because it was well fortified – especially by 4th Succession Wars timeframes. Most of its security was against hostile infiltrators, but the threat assessment done when it was under construction had included the possibility of a suicide one-way surprise attack. The outer perimeter wall had been constructed specifically to frustrate a Battlemech charge, all too high and thick for any Assault Mech to smash through or climb. The buildings close to the wall had been reinforced grossly over anything remotely necessary even by 31st century milspec standards, able to support Assault Mechs tap dancing on their roofs - and conveniently give a firing platform over the walls – as well as the possible results of MAD SCIENCE going wrong inside.
And that was just the passive defenses!
There were a couple of dozen anti-aircraft turrets on key points along the walls and spread out on high buildings across the entire campus too. Essentially Kallon ‘If its flying, we are personally offended!’ Industries Partisan turrets with quad AC/5 autocannons, they were still quite lethal against ground targets - but by necessity they were spread thin around the perimeter so that less than sixteen of them would be able to fire on the incoming Combine hoard in support of the defending Battlemechs. Not much firepower, but not something to dismiss either.
Hanse however, after reading about the crazy ComStar raid on the place, had taken the step of very quietly augmenting the defenses somewhat after the war broke out, equipping the guard force with some secret toys, stashed in the perimeter warehouses. They amounted to automated field guns; fragile and easy to kill pseudo-turrets that none the less put out AC/5 firepower and with twenty of them emplaced near each gate quickly after the invasion alarms had sounded and all facilities had gone to the highest operational defense condition?
Well, combined with one Elite and one Green battalion of Battlemechs … it was still nowhere near enough to stop Kurita. But, they might just slow them down long enough for Morgan to arrive and play hammer to the …
What ... the ****** ... were they doing?!
Confusion and disbelief waged a brief war on my face as the entire Combine Mech that had been skittering at the edge of weapons range suddenly surged forward! Even as I asked myself the silent question, their salvo of LRM missiles detonated short of any hits on the outer defenses, instead pouring down a cloud of heavy dirty smoke over their line of advance-
“Pick it up to seventy” Hanse snapped and without hesitation I pushed my throttle back up to its TSM enhanced limits. “Everyone gets to the mark and engages – LRM units, start suppression fire now. Break. Gold Company follow us in and hook around to our right, I want you to start putting the pressure on as soon as you can acquire…” Hanse gave several rapid-fire orders before switching over to a private channel, apparently with the Den as we closed in quickly, coming into view of the NAIS as both Jackson and the four Centurions rippled their LRMs indirectly at the estimated ‘blob’ of enemy forces charging into and through the smoke. At our ten O’clock, the defenders at NAIS, both Battlemech and Turret, were really starting to amp up the firepower and heat as well, green and gold tracer rounds of long range autocannons and the manmade static of PPCs and stabbing beams of lasers sweeping into the smoke in a way that would never do any concentrated damage, but, would hopefully start to rip up armor on the leading ranks as they moved through the smoke-
Then the enemy exploded out of the smoke well ahead of where they should be and I swore several highly blasphemous statements in rapid succession as my eyes went wide in shock. They had rotated their formation, somehow, inside the ****** smoke with zero visibility, pulling off a leapfrog of their much faster mediums ahead of the heavies that had been apparently tanking the firepower. Fanning out rapidly, the ****** opened fire, focusing fire on the wall mounted turrets and ignoring the Battlemechs now tracking and blasting at them, with some success in both directions as quad cannons around the massive gate detonated from furious fire, even as a lance of Combine Mechs collapsed or shattered as increasingly intensive firepower from closer ranged weapons started to dig in. LRMs rocketed out of the smoke to start landing on the outer turrets and blowing them sky high almost casually, probably launched from sensor data from the forward Mechs but others kept firing, ripping armor plating as the enemy pushed grimly onward out of the smoke in a completely bewildering banzai charge…
Still, I ask, what the ****** are they doing? They still couldn’t get over the wall and trying to pound through it with the defenders above and behind it raining fire on them with no cover? Not to mention they must see us and know we're maneuvering for a clean shot and that we must have backup on the way-
When it happened, it happened fast.
And I mean super-fast. As in WTF, I blinked, and it had happened! And I only understood what had happened later on reply.
One second the DCMS force looked to be charging into an ever-increasing barrage of firepower as the cadets now started to find their feet and laid into the combine units with crisp firepower concentrations just like Team Banzai had been doing, the Combine Mechs getting battered but moving superbly to throw off the aim of the defenders as they tore apart the static defenses.
And a second after that four brilliant dots of fire were ripping out of the smoke at incredible speed.
I didn’t know it at the time of course, but the ‘streaks’ were in fact four modified STG-10 Stinger Land-Air-Mechs that had been hiding inside the formation in the smoke. And at the right moment, they had jumped into the opaque air, pulled their Macross-slash-Robotech lever into ‘Aerospace fighter mode’ and at maximum overthrust, roared straight ahead. Unswervingly.
And right at the massive, thick, anti-Battlemech gate, barely ten meters off the ground.
They didn’t fire their weapons – later it would be determined that they didn’t have any, having been custom modified for this one task that their regiment had worked so very hard to get them into position to do. They also didn’t reach Sufficient Velocity – by definition that would mean they could have gotten away with just using one after all.
But they did reach about Mach 1.1 in the short distance they had to travel … and with the only four AAA turrets that could have engaged them with the computer driven reaction times and accuracy needed to stop them burning wrecks, they were not even singed before they smashed into the anti-mech gate and detonated the couple of tons of Pentaglycine that had been shoved inside the things.
Simultaneously.
I take it back, I thought in pure shock as the mushroom cloud erupted at the gate, a dozen defending Battlemech icons going from green to red and another dozen going yellow as I felt the shockwave buffet my Mech a little and the crack of thunder, even at this distance. He’s not ****** cosplaying Kane, he’s ****** cosplaying Saruman at Helms Deep!!
Even as I stared in numb shock at the sudden reversal as night briefly turned to day, the Combine Battlemechs surged, the defending fire having slacked off to almost nothing as they poured forward for the hole in the wall – several Battlemechs having been knocked off their feet by the blast wave struggling to their feet as their comrades charged in after him, the very first of them kicking their jump jets into gear as they took to the skies to leap the wall, laser fire ripping into them as Team Banzai snapped back to their fleet and started frantically throwing everything they had at the breach even as the Combines non jump-capable mechs with sickening professionalism lined up and started to sprint for the burning hole.
“Knight Company” Hanse Davion’s voice came down the line, sounding just as cool as ever. “Belay my last. We’re going in’.
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Excellent work there.
Expecting Drakensis to pull your chestnuts out of the fire, he's sitting on your shoulder laughing as you go into combat. ;)
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man what a ride!!!
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Well it'd be more than a 260 year wait for Thomas Praetorian. That might be more time than he'd be willing to commit to the Inner Sphere.
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:beer: :rockon:
help not coming
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Is there perhaps another company or two of Alacorns in NAIS, hidden behind shrubberies?
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Now this is how victory is earned, with the opponent pulling out sneaky tricks one after another, and being good enough to suddenly change whole formations on the fly.
Now the question is what is the plan for those Kurita mechwarriors who punched out?
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Absolutely superb! And the way they all went for Smith makes me think they know who he is, or at least have an inkling of his importance. Perhaps they think he's some wunderkind of Team Banzai or something and perhaps the local phone company mentioned this to the Combine.
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Marauders are traditionally used by commanders (aka, valuable targets) and a custom Royal one is equal to a very valuable target. The bad side of using such good mech is that it paint a big target on you.
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Marauders are traditionally used by commanders (aka, valuable targets) and a custom Royal one is equal to a very valuable target. The bad side of using such good mech is that it paint a big target on you.
The same is true for BattleMasters, though, and those are custom Royal ones, too.
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So true, so true.
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Also, marauders are squishy compared to battlemasters.
Yeah, Hanse is probably in a battlemaster, but squishing a marauder with its 17 armor over a torso bomb isn't an unreasonable investment. If nothing else, it gets rid of a big chunk of the long range firepower.
Yes, I know that even normal royals are tougher than that, and he isn't in a normal royal.
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Glad to hear from you. The story has been missed.
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Well that was exciting
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And intense.
Very nice :thumbsup:
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love the story so far...keep it up!!!
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Outstanding job, Chris, remarkable job reading BT fans in. Thank You for sharing with the BT fandom.
So Banzai Banzai attacker’s oh no what to do?
If you know the target it can easily become a trap.
With months of prep time, obstacles and mine placement.
AC 20 rigged on a pressure plate , in areas you channelized the enemy.
Even pit traps with mech equivalent of punji stakes.( collapsing buildings are my bane in game anytime I try to jump on one).
Never stop prepping your AO for battle with the enemy.
Just had an image of the roads around NAIS covered in a super lube and mechs trying to run on it.
or
Infantry in buildings with paint claymores or paint hoses that spray EM dampening paint to malf mech sensors.
Really need all the nobles with mechs that wanted to fight with Hanse at the NAIS, hidden and waiting to counter attack.
Propaganda coup, Federation nobles fighting to save technology vs. Dracs trying to make whole IS into their peasants.
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Hey Chris will we see the return of Mechs like the Hammerhands or Battleaxe as updated models?
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Is there perhaps another company or two of Alacorns in NAIS, hidden behind shrubberies?
So, Yorinaga is cosplaying Saruman, while Hanse is cosplaying Creed?
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There is apparently a 'Steiner Guard' company of refitted Banshees, -X-FC, I think. I've been keeping track of his posts and he went over the available forces, but that was the most surprising one.
I get the feeling it's going to be over soon, in story terms, since Smith knows Morgan is now less than 30 minutes out. At one point I wondered about city services getting involved, but the action seems to be moving too fast. I wonder if we'll see any ASF getting involved, though.
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Hanse Davion has the dracs right where he wants them 8)
I am really looking forward to the next update ...
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Quite the opposite, he has them where he doesn't want them, in New Avalon, NAIS to be specific.
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Quite the opposite, he has them where he doesn't want them, in New Avalon, NAIS to be specific.
At a heavily fortified, isolated, sensor-filled area with both garrison forces and static defenses? With a massive, mountain-shaped fortification in the near distance designed after the Star League's I grant you he might prefer them not to be there, but, well - they have a plan, too, you know?
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I'm just eagerly waiting for an update :)
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I could like him again, lol. It worked last time!
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More please more!!!! Love this story.
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You could poke him over at spacebattles, but I don't think he'd appreciate it.
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You could poke him over at spacebattles, but I don't think he'd appreciate it.
The mods would appreciate it less, and they're already in need of therapy. They'd ModHammer you and lock the thread.
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The mods would appreciate it less, and they're already in need of therapy. They'd ModHammer you and lock the thread.
Nah, not worried about them, they have enough fires to put out.
Irritate the writer, and... His last response was one word; "No.". I'd say let it wait.
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I just wanted to pop in and say that this is fantastic. Sure, it's a fanboy's wet dream about what the Federated Commonwealth COULD have been... but it's done with such flair, attention to detail, and lighthearted fun that I found myself stuck to my chair reading it for five fracking hours.
It's not perfect, of course. There are some noticeable recurring errors. Your use of punctuation and quotation marks are, at times, rather problematic; the period does not go after the quotation marks, for example. Also, you frequently use the word "unphased" but I'm pretty sure you mean "unfazed."
However as a fan-made work, such criticisms are, in the end, a lover's quarrel. Again, well done. Looking forward to more.
Uh... also, count me in as a member of the Katrina/Smith crowd.
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I actually just poked the writer. Two days later, no answer. So we wait.
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try via the threads here for Fed suns reborn or the Quest he seems to enjoy those,
but my assumption that he will posy about 5 pages of stuff when he is ready, which hopefully is soon, let him chill, he is infrequent buy damn its worth it
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Agreed. Still working on editing his story for a pdf for my tablet, getting close to catching up.
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The minor grammatical tweaks and professional editing catches do not detract at all from my enjoyment of going for a ride along his story.
My only complaint is the cliff hangers waiting for him to finish the next chapter. This seems to be a common one that I have with all good writers. My voracious reading out paces their writing.
Until he posts more I along with many others will wait and wonder what is next for Mr Smith.
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Here's the Story So Far in epub format ...
https://www.dropbox.com/s/khdbyygl268nh1a/It%20Was%20Easier%20on%20the%20Tabletop%20-%20Chris%20Farrell.epub?dl=0
Easy to convert to PDF via Calibre.
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Here's the Story So Far in epub format ...
https://www.dropbox.com/s/khdbyygl268nh1a/It%20Was%20Easier%20on%20the%20Tabletop%20-%20Chris%20Farrell.epub?dl=0
Easy to convert to PDF via Calibre.
How does one do that? *is not computer minded*
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a) Load Calibre on your computer.
b) Load the file.
c) Select Convert, then Convert to PDF
Or
a) say "Could I have a PDF copy please?"
Epub's (to me) a superior read, and Calibre will also let you read books. If your tablet is Android, I highly recommend fbreader (Free Book, not FaceBook) which lets you read epubs & others. PDF has the issue with wanting to cram one whole page on screen; epub (and mobi, and azw) work far better for text, PDF for image-intensive books like TROs where the formatting is important.
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And voila! PDF version.
https://www.dropbox.com/s/5dadrp1rwql7ij2/It%20Was%20Easier%20on%20the%20Tabletop%20-%20Chris%20Farrell.pdf?dl=0
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just down loaded a copy... great job
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Thank you for the conversions!
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Where's the pictures?
It was promised with pictures!!! :D
TT
:thumbsup:
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so the GDL now have a land hold on Hoff. They will have a BN (?) repair area call it 36 bays. they also so will have General Circuits and Friden Aerospace park (prototype testing facility?) looks like Grayson might have an opening to start gray death Technologies a little early and without getting cooked by WoB.
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so the GDL now have a land hold on Hoff. They will have a BN (?) repair area call it 36 bays. they also so will have General Circuits and Friden Aerospace park (prototype testing facility?) looks like Grayson might have an opening to start gray death Technologies a little early and without getting cooked by WoB.
Here's the danger: Things that went into motion to create the 3050 timeline ARE GONE. Its a whole unwritten world. Major stepping stones might not occur now. Think about it. What if, the COMSTAR's 1st Circuit is given a clinical version of 3050+, with major censures but with enough INTEL to tell them to STOP all EC operations towards the Homeworlds. No outbound Light = no Go Vote for a 3049 Operation Revival. It might still happen in the next few years after by sheer will... but it wont start in 3049.
The ripples might even be consequential. If two people didn't snuggle on that one night (or lunch break quickie, behind the bowling alley), then you might not get certain kids later on. Maybe a boy instead of a famous girl. Maybe twins?
maybe some instead is still borne and thus never does their part in history later.
My point is, is maybe the reason we have not heard much since June is because he's gotten to that point that it requires him to think about how far does his story really go? and should it?
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I agree with your assessment. Smith's dollop of foresight gave the Federated Commonwealth an unbeatable advantage, but it's an advantage that will become less and less relevant as time marches on. The timeline is already starting to skew in a major way.
There are still two huge unresolved wildcards. The first is ComStar, of course. The second is the Clans. If the Clans arrive early, united, and without all the stupid honor rituals, it won't be pretty, especially if they let their Warships have free reign instead of holding them in reserve. I still think the Fedcom would win in the end due to sheer mass, but yeah... not pretty.
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Just read the PDF version again.
Can’t wait for the next chapter.
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There are still two huge unresolved wildcards. The first is ComStar, of course. The second is the Clans. If the Clans arrive early, united, and without all the stupid honor rituals, it won't be pretty, especially if they let their Warships have free reign instead of holding them in reserve. I still think the Fedcom would win in the end due to sheer mass, but yeah... not pretty.
There's a line in one of the sidestories "...in 3053 when the Clans came calling for real" that gives us a clue when the main invasion begins. It should be interesting to see how Hanse & Friends handle Comstar and prepare for the Clans.
This is definitely one of the best FanFics out there.
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There's a line in one of the sidestories "...in 3053 when the Clans came calling for real" that gives us a clue when the main invasion begins. It should be interesting to see how Hanse & Friends handle Comstar and prepare for the Clans.
This is definitely one of the best FanFics out there.
I think its less of how they are handled and more how do they get Comstar, Frederick Steiner and the Real Thomas Marik involved. It's imperative to have 'Focht' be tapped to lead the ComGuards because of what his military skills bring to the table (once you convince him). It's imperative to have Comstar behave (and not have its schism anytime soon) and still make its military assets available eventually. The hardest part is House Marik. History says that Thomas gets the nod from Janos instead of the D-kids and they do the typical thing in rage. How do you prevent that? ALL of that (the assassination attempt, Real Thomas having Robot Jesues into his life, the fake guy being better at the job, etc)?
maybe that's why the story has been idle (besides everything else I've speculated on this subject) ?
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I think its less of how they are handled and more how do they get Comstar, Frederick Steiner and the Real Thomas Marik involved. It's imperative to have 'Focht' be tapped to lead the ComGuards because of what his military skills bring to the table (once you convince him). It's imperative to have Comstar behave (and not have its schism anytime soon) and still make its military assets available eventually. The hardest part is House Marik. History says that Thomas gets the nod from Janos instead of the D-kids and they do the typical thing in rage. How do you prevent that? ALL of that (the assassination attempt, Real Thomas having Robot Jesues into his life, the fake guy being better at the job, etc)?
maybe that's why the story has been idle (besides everything else I've speculated on this subject) ?
Pretty sure by the time the Clans come calling, the FedCom has already taken steps that have seen Freddie remain with them and Comstar being neutered. Hanse, Katrina, and Melissa will have a plan for dealing with the Clans, and they won't need Comstar for that.
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Pretty sure by the time the Clans come calling, the FedCom has already taken steps that have seen Freddie remain with them and Comstar being neutered. Hanse, Katrina, and Melissa will have a plan for dealing with the Clans, and they won't need Comstar for that.
Hmm. Well - you know, I've been wondering if I should open a new thread about how you'd end this story.
But, yeah, I figure Hanse will come up with some method of convincing Comstar to contribute 'Mechs from their storehouses to keep the DC from collapsing in the '39 war. And a bunch of other stuff, maybe I'll start that thread.
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As I recall from SB thread, Chris mentioned that Clans will invade in 3052 and it will take full Comstar support to prevent Draconis Combine to completely collapse.
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As I recall from SB thread, Chris mentioned that Clans will invade in 3052 and it will take full Comstar support to prevent Draconis Combine to completely collapse.
But will the insert-character want to prevent it?
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But will the insert-character want to prevent it?
If I remember that chapter right he was talking about the DC being held up by the remnants of the ComGuard when the clans invaded.
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But will the insert-character want to prevent it?
I mean, substituting Clan caste-system for the Draconis caste-system doesn't seem to make anyone's lives particularly better off, and Luthien's factories are a much larger threat to the FedCom if they're retooled to pump out Clan-spec ERPPCs and XL engines. So no, I bet the SI wouldn't want the DC to just fold and become an early-days Wolf (or Smoke Jaguar or Ghost Bear) Empire.
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Don't forget Christian Kell prevented the leader who could have given the best possible response to the Clans. In Theodore's absence, who becomes Heir to the Dragon?
I'm assuming the Davions will let the Clans blunt themselves on the Combine, before counter-attacking.
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Don't forget Christian Kell prevented the leader who could have given the best possible response to the Clans. In Theodore's absence, who becomes Heir to the Dragon?
I'm assuming the Davions will let the Clans blunt themselves on the Combine, before counter-attacking.
Christian Kell was only a toddler at that point.
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Sorry, Patrick
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I mean, substituting Clan caste-system for the Draconis caste-system doesn't seem to make anyone's lives particularly better off, and Luthien's factories are a much larger threat to the FedCom if they're retooled to pump out Clan-spec ERPPCs and XL engines. So no, I bet the SI wouldn't want the DC to just fold and become an early-days Wolf (or Smoke Jaguar or Ghost Bear) Empire.
Considering the Dracs have intentionally kept at least one world a backwater 1800s-era planet [on purpose] just because it was populated by "roundeyes"?
I honestly think the Clan caste-system might be an improvement for the population of the combine.
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Depends on the era of combine, and which flavor of clan.
I'd say a lot of people would be better off under the Ghost Bears than their grandparents were under Takashi's dad, Hohiro I. However, that is a remarkably low bar.
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I just found got recommended this today from a new story at AH.com I had forgotten about this site and my account was deleted for inactivity. I am replying in the hope that it subscribes me to this story.
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Chris posts here and at Spacebattles. Normally, SB first. No idea when the next installment will come, he isn't answering.
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Best to stop bothering him then.
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For the benefit of those of you that don't frequent Spacebattles I thought I'd let you know that a new chapter was just posted there: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-487#post-63291002 (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-487#post-63291002)
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So, TLDR version; not dead, just painfully slow coming.
This chapter is complete, but REALLY is part 1/2 because it leads directly into the next one. Hopefully it will be available before Christmas if we have a bit of luck...
Chapter 16: The Battle of New Avalon. Part 2
Even as the explosion from the Kamikaze LAMs slowly dissipated, the Combine formation was moving. The lances in the screening force that had been bird-dogging the defenders took full advantage of the cessation of defensive fire to stop their evasive maneuvering and charge for the breach. Several lances equipped with jump jets went first, simply leaping over the wall and pouring firepower into the beleaguered defenders nearest the wrecked gate. A half dozen blue transponders ringed with yellow or red on my board turned black as the Combine Mechs ruthlessly picked off cripples to clear the gate breach, a move the pragmatic soldier in me honestly couldn’t find fault in ... even as fury spiked as people I knew and even dared to call friends were gunned down without mercy.
Several of those DCMS Mechs were in turn all but flayed open in mid-air by Team Banzai Mechwarriors still on their feet. A bit over half of their Battalion had been outside the blast zone and they were already regrouping to concentrate towards the new threat and cover their damaged lancemates as they brought fire and fury to bear on the Combines Forlorn Hope.
But it was taking time.
Too much time in fact as the rest of the Combine vanguard now dared the flaming wreckage, pushing through the breach fearlessly - a Cicada even tripping over in the rush to get through. The remaining jumpers took the opportunity to return to the sky, bypassing Team Banzai to start tangling with the reserve cadet line that was trying to move up, throwing them into chaos, a confused brawl rapidly unfolding as one side attempted to hold the door open and the other tried to slam it shut.
The defenders had the numbers and tonnage advantage, but the Combine Mechwarriors were both fanatics and didn’t need to actually win. All they needed to do was tie up the defenders - even at the cost of their own lives, because a lot more DCMS Mechs were inbound.
And rolling in hot to see what could be done about all of this…
*
***
*****
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*
“Ten and eleven, over the wall and wait for the call. Twelve, stick to my lance - Nine, come over and take over second lance. We’re advancing to phase line India” Hanse shot rapid orders and just like that, my lance ceased to exist as I shifted to form up with the Battlemasters, Jackson Davion’s Archer pounded its way East to take charge of the Centurians on our right and both Jonny and Jimmy's Enforcers looped away from us to do … whatever it was Hanse wanted them to do I suppose, as they leaped over the wall. Leaving me alone on the left flank.
“Twelve little Battlemechs, head to war again” I muttered to myself as our formation shifted around. “Two ran off that way and then there were ten…”
I blinked as I realized what I just muttered and resisted the urge to facepalm only because it would force me to give up my death grip on my two control sticks.
Great, now I’m rhyming like a Jade Falcon most famous for a heroic last stand against overwhelming odds...keep away from those damn negative waves John!
Hanse Davions voice remaining calm and cool however drove such thoughts back, keeping me assured he had a Cunning Plan to deal with the unfolding chaos - although if he did, there was little time to put it into play. Kuritas main formation seemed to already be collapsing in on itself from their original battle lines drawn up facing the wall, the better to start ‘squirting’ lances through the gap I suppose. And as they pulled in together, they made themselves an increasingly hard target to try and take on with a handful of Battlemechs.
If, on the other hand, the damn planet had more than one lousy battalion of field guns to go around that we could focus onto this ****** choke point...
I allowed myself exactly two seconds (as we smashed our way through a line of perfectly inoffensive pine trees) to indulge my frustration before suppressing it, knowing we had to win this battle with the tools we had.
Including the terrain, it would seem as I started to guess at what Hanse was planning.
NAIS was split, by terrain, into the North and South (colloquially called ‘uptown’ and ‘downtown’) zones by a mild elevation difference from a granite ridge the bisected the campus. It had apparently been pure murder to dig into, but the location had been chosen specifically because the ground provided exceptionaly good armour for super-secret-underground-labs, being highly resistant to even strategic ground-burst nukes. That ridge extended well outside the facility more prominently thanks to geo-engineering, expressed here as ‘Phase Line India’. A rocky embankment with a very wide access road running straight into a secondary access gate into NAIS.
If nothing else, the embankment would provide something akin to a Battlemech sized trench for us to fight from. So with more haste than I felt comfortable with -it was stepper than it looked and chicken walkers were not the best for hills- we hit the ten meter incline and clambered up to the top-
“Incoming!”
A series of distinct beeps sounded in my ear as my toso cleared the rise, overlapping the urgent call from Knight Eight. That sound had amused me greatly when I first heard them in training, because it was pretty much identical to the ‘incoming missile’ alarm that went off in Mechwarrior IV.
It wasn’t amusing now, hearing a dozen overlapping each other in rapid succession before I muted them with a flick of my pinkie. Enemy Battlemechs materalized onto my HUD as they stepped out from behind trees and other cover ahead of us like ****** CREEEED! was in charge over there - and I swallowed heavily as they started to be named as big boys, serious platforms with considerable firepower.
Clearly, Kurita had either seen us coming, or, had anticipated someone might be coming and wanted to protect his flank.
Beyond the closest hostiles, I could actually see the massed thermal blobs of the Combine Battlemechs consolidating towards the breach in the NAIS perimeter wall. And from this position, we were ideally placed to start showering said blob with massed volleys of LRMs as while we were still outside effective LRM range against point targets, we were well within LRM strike range if you wanted to just lob masses of missiles at a grid square. Like the one the enemy regiment was crowding into...
Unfortunately, the same rules applied for the enemy LRM units and there were a ****** of missiles in the air heading right for our position - although thankfully only from the closest units, not from the mass behind who seemed to be busily firing over the NAIS wall. Nethertheless our options for dealing with the incoming barrage were limited. Either we charged forward and ducked under them before they got here (which would force us to abandon the only cover we had, surrender our range advantage and risked more Combine Mechs breaking from the main body to pile in), or, we dropped back down the slope to take cover in our wannabe trenchline to engage these units. Which would neatly keep us from interfering while the DCMS charged into the NAIS. Which was also a win for the bad guys.
Either choice seemed poor, but as the only other option would seem to be staying put and soaking up a shower of LRMs-
“Stand fast!” Hanse Davion boomed and my training kicked in automatically as I halted and squatted my Mech into place, my upper torso just visible behind the rise.
Then I realized what I had done (damn you Pavlov).
Committed thus, I could only watch the incoming fire with increasingly clenched teeth as hundreds of bright dots on my thermal scope hung briefly motionless in the pre-dawn sky; an illusion I knew meant they were heading straight for us - and me!
And just to top it off, a new buzzing from my sensor board showed a second group of hostile contacts breaking off from the big happy family, reinforcing the others to make it … 16-10 odds. Great.
I cut my angst off as the missiles tipped and dove at us as their rockets burned out, locking my legs and switching my lower actuators to automatic compensation as I braced for impact, taking a somewhat useless deep breath-
Then the sky …
Well, it blew up.
The LRM barrage and the eternal hatred Kallon Industries held for anything that moved through the air came together in an explosion of fire and my jaw dropped as the LRM barrage was all but shredded before my eyes. Belatedly, I realized that the defensive turrets in the Northern quadrant of NAIS were still very much intact and, against unguided ballistic LRMs...
Always remember I reminded myself firmly as the smoke cleared and my displays reset to show the incoming Combine Battlemechs hesitating and slowing to regroup at the casually contemptuous no-sell of their massive LRM barrage; if the tactics look crazy under this CO, they probably are crazy.
Crazy as a Fox.
“First Lance, lock my target - second lance, overwatch. Smith, with us” Hanse ordered crisply, his Battlemaster stepping up off the slope to get clear lines of sight as I unlocked my legs to pop up from my squatting position - chicken walkers rocked, yo!- swinging my crosshairs onto the designated target. I pauses as my fire control system confirmed the target was in ERPPC range and chewed down its firing solution before flashing gold-
“Shoot!”
Given the lack of evasive bobbing and weaving I would have expected from a veteran Mechwarrior, I suspected the one in this Awesome was either a complete idiot (highly unlikely in this unit), or, more likely, he was unaware that we were playing L2 while he was stuck with intro-tech.
If so, the cat probably got irrecovably out of the bag when nine PPC blasts from at least a third again past maximum even remotely effective PPC range reached out to rather casually ****** him up.
Nine, because my left PPC just barely missed as I misjudged the way the Awesome was rolling in its stride, damnit! Not that it actually mattered much in the end…
For all it’s (well deserved) reputation as a zombie that just kept on going no matter what you did to it, the Awesome had never been designed to stand up to that many simultaneous particle beams. Only the fact that the beams were spread out along its torso probably saved it from simply dying then and there really. As it was, the war machine staggered to a halt in a cloud of vaporized metal and dropped to a knee, steaming coolant pouring from breached heat sinks like blood pouring from mortal wounds.
One of the most feared Battlemechs in 3025 … crippled in a single salvo.
God I felt like such a Clanner right now. Two Stars of us - a Binary!- shooting the crap out of Inner Sphere Mechs with impunity from long range…
I was sure Hanse had been hoping to nail the company commander with that salvo - but if we did I didn’t see any impact on the enemy response as they charged forward, clearly determined to stop us just parking under the anti-missile cover and raking them with extended-range weapons for as long as our heat sinks held out. The pair of Dragons and the Lancelot that had been pacing the Awesome moved together, breaking to gain space for maneuvering but staying close enough to each other for mutual support as they charged. Following them in, the other Mechs on that flank were spreading out to split our firepower while on my side of the battlefield the rest of the force was rushing ‘along the wall’ in two lances and so I focused on them.
My sensors marked the slower designs in the rear as a pair each of Thunderbolts and Crusaders while the vanguard was a lighter lance made of a Trebuchet, Kintaro, a Dervish and a Griffin. All LRM toting designs temporarily stymied of their primary weapon by the defensive firepower covering us. But I knew once they were close enough, they’d switch to direct trajectory shots that the distant AAA turrets wouldn’t be able to engage...and they carried a LOT of ****** missiles-
“First lance, engage at will. Jackson, nail the Dragons!” Hanse issued new orders sharply and fire erupted from our line as dozens upon dozens of rockets launched from Jackson’s unit, the purple whips of particle beams lancing out of Hanse and his group at the same time, scattering explosions downrange.
And with no specific orders - and personally considering it unwise to let the eight Battlemechs running down the wall charge in without taking any fire- I directed my attention (and ERPPCs) at the Griffin that had accelerated ahead of all the other Mechs in the best overconfident Banzai Charge traditions, fired-
And … I missed.
Okay, either this ****** was some kind of newtype Anime physics bullshit Mechwarrior or he was lucky as ******. Because even as I pulled the trigger, the Griffin sidestepped - while spinning his torso - to let the blasts just sail right past him by mere meters.
Hax! I call SUPERHAX!
Then, without missing a step, the enemy Mech spun its torso back and-
My Mech jolted, restraints digging into my shoulders as an electrical discharge crackled along my cockpit window, several of my secondary sensor feeds cutting out for a few seconds as their systems automatically reset from the electrical overload.
Okay … I had just come within a matter of meters of taking a headshot.
Probably only the fact that the shot was at extreme range meant he had ‘missed’ the head and the beam did much less damage than expected...
This did not feel like a game anymore.
Ah; so there’s the balls-clenching terror of impending mortality that had been missing from my life until now-
“Last salvos and back it up!” Hanse ordered briskly, snapping me out of my brief freeze as he discharged his own PPCs one last time, slagging the knee joint of the Lancelot despite its best attempts to evade, causing it to crash spectacularly to the ground as it lost access to bipedal locomotion while at TSM enhanced high speeds. The Centurians on his flank were also smoothly disengaging under modest long-range fire as they fired off a last missile salvo, Jackson dropping back with them onto the slope as he sprayed LRMs downrange - paced by the four Battlemasters - as I forced my attention back to the Griffin ahead of me. I was sure I could get one last shot in as my PPCs cycled to ready and I aimed, fired -
The DCMS Mechwarrior evaded the beam once more with his bullshit Jedi-level precognition, but this time I had accounted for that and he ran smack into the second beam as I staggered my fire a half second apart. I had hoped for a torso shot, but to my surprise (and glee) the beam nailed the front-face of the bazooka-like LRM launcher on the Mechs shoulder. Hopefully, it slagged the launch tubes enough to foul them and put the weapon out of service.
It was a complete fluke of course, but I’d take it as I kicked into reverse, gripping my joysticks tightly as the sickening feeling of a Mech in freefall hit me, if only for a split second before I slammed into the slope and skidded down to the ground, my seat vibrating like mad from the rapid oscillations of the gyro as I leaned forward, my torso scraping the rock as I sort of slid down it. Even the advanced Star-League gear and high-fidelity neurohelmet link was barely able to keep me upright as loud warning sirens ripped into my eardrums.
An idiotic move? Perhaps. Reckless? Certainly.
But, I felt vindicated in my choices as a salvo of autocannon and PPC fire ripped through where my head had just been a second ago.
Steadying on my feet, I spun around as fast as I dared and slammed my throttle forward, hurrying to reform with the rest of the Company who were already in motion, carefully pointing our backs to the enemy as Hanse ordered us to sprint on course 000, best speed ... away from the only useful cover in the area.
Saying it like that makes it sound like a bad idea I thought dryly as I brought my Mech up to its maximum stable offroad speed, leaving the hard ferrocrete behind as we smashed back through the treeline in a way that would probably earn us the eternal hatred of the NAIS School of Botany as I slowly closed the small gap with the others. And as we thundered through the dark, I tried to grasp my way through Hanse Davions plan. Conventional logic says we should have stayed at the phase line and slugged it out; it was the only useful cover in range and even if the enemy were closing, we had tonnage and heat sinks to trade that fire - and plenty of close range fire too - especially if we could get under the minimal LRM range inside which the missiles couldn’t really track at. Instead, we were being pushed away from the main enemy force - and being pushed away onto the open field where the LRM boats chasing us would have a field day - bad pun intended. Glancing around my tactical boards I tried to see if there were friendlies nearby but the only friendlies on the scope out here were Gold Company’s assault tanks, who were already a long way off trundling west under orders to go and provide some hefty firepower in the battle still raging through the light industrial parks of downtown Avalon City.
Thus, as best as I could tell we were going to be caught dead to rights, in the open, by a large number of Missile Boats-
“Alright, that’s enough. Knights; come about, speed sixty, engage on my command. And Twelve, get back in line!” Hanse snapped out a rapid fire series of orders and I almost fell over as I cut my throttle back harshly (while the nine other Mechs ahead flawlessly slowed and spun on their left foot in perfect, parade unison).
I killed the somewhat petulant urge to bite back at my CO and Liege that I wasn’t a frigen elite Mechwarrior able to make my Mech tapdance like him through. Even beside the gross unprofessionalism inherent in doing so, I knew this was not the time to jostle Hanse Davions elbow.
So I swung my Battlemech around as best I could (amusingly my tardiness worked out well as I fell into formation entirely correctly as a result) then I swallowed hard as I saw what we were heading into. The enemy vanguard - eight Mechs total - were just about to hit Phase Line India. We’d be about 500 meters out, without any effective cover then. They could rain LRMs on us from the high ground, out of line of sight, with the lighter units popping up and down to spit for them.
Hanse Davion had, in effect, given the Combine a ‘free hit’ against us. That made no sense at all and, bizarrely, that thought gave me hope. Because if Hanse Davion was doing something that looked to my eyes to be incredibly stupid, it meant he probably had a reaso-
And in an impressive blast of noise and light, my hope was proven well placed.
Rocket packs were one of those ‘duh!’ things I had fast forwarded the reintroduction to. Incredibly simple really - especially as the New Dallas core in fact had a number of technical schematics for such weapons. It had been the work of merely weeks for NAIS to update the designs for the modern era, using infantry one-shot LAW rockets as the base and with that, a new weapon had been born that seemed to be of dubious value at face value.
I mean, rocket launcher pods were, in almost every way, inferior to LRM launchers. The rockets were unguided fin-stabilized projectiles with far less effective range compared to an LRM - let alone an LRMs absolute range against static targets - and each ‘pod’ was a one-shot weapon.
With all that said, there was one attribute which, in their own niche, made up for these shortcomings in spades.
They were ridiculously light and compact compared to almost every other weapon out there against the raw damage they could do.
Seriously, the 10-tube Mech and Vehicle mounted units that had been rushed into select Operational Test and Evaluation units weighed just under half a ton for the launcher and its ammo and was incredibly compact. You might only get one shot of it compared to a reloadable weapon ... but who said you only had to mount one?
Case in point; NAIS had taken a couple of Phantom jet fighters (locally produced knockoffs of the classic ‘Defender’ jet fighter) and played with the designs in an Advanced Refit Lab - the dark place where mad scientists gave way to obsessive engineers and just downright insane test pilots. And after a couple of false starts, an entirely new paradigm had taken shape, with six squadrons of jets from the Crucis March Milita rebuilt over the last few months to give Hanse a new card to play. Each fighter, instead of a couple of LRM and SRM tubes, now carried six, 10-cell rocket packs internally - plus up to another four on wing-mounted hard points that could be dumped after firing.
A hundred rockets at full war load - rockets that could be fired a pod at a time … or, could be flushed in one salvo that would have made Maximillian Jenius toss off a salute in appreciation.
And in their combat debut, they choose the latter option as two flights ripped over our enemies at just over Mach-1 and unleashed everything they had.
I doubted that much damage was done to the units facing us. Four fighters making a pass spraying rockets at everything didn’t drop any Mechs, but it did a spectacularly good job of throwing the enemy into confusion and distraction as hundreds upon hundreds of rockets rained down around and on them like an explosive hailstorm. So much so that by the time the Snakes had started to sort themselves out and looked to reacquire, they found us already crossing under minimum effective LRM range right at their feet-
“Shoot!” Hanse snapped and following word with deed he obliterated his chosen target; one of the two Dragons. It had already taken considerable damage from both earlier sniping and the rockets scattering across it. And even at full strength a Dragon frankly had no damn business taking an Alpha Strike from a Lostech Royal Assault Mech. Between blinks, the machines torso was transformed into something that charitably could be called ‘abstract artwork’ before it crashed to the ground, brewing up quite nicely as unfired munitions cooked off.
The other three Battlemasters followed their Lieges lead with considerable enthusiasm; carving up first a poor Blackjack belatedly looking for more aerial threats instead of what was in front of it, then a second Dragon which had its hips and upper torso separated from each other and finally, a Kilo variant Wolverine. To its credit, the Mechwarrior in the Wolverine managed a defiant snapshot with his large laser that lashed across Hanse Davions torso… a split second before it's cockpit became a crematorium as the PPCs and lasers converged with lethal accuracy.
Then came the price that had to be paid for pressing the Alpha Strike button as all four Battlemasters slewed to a halt; glowing white on my thermal display from the waste heat saturating their cooling circuits radiators. The cockpits had to be saunas right now, but I was sure Hanse and his people were well used to it - and probably happy enough with the results as four hostile contact indicators vanished from my TACMAP.
Even so, I held my fire as I came to a halt on their flank as the temporary fifth member of their lance, watching for any threat trying to take advantage of their temporary incapacity as weapons fire erupted everywhere else in every direction.
Jackson Davion might not have had the sheer power of the Assault Mechs to work with, but that didn’t seem to phase the veteran battalion commander. All five of his Mechs opened by focusing their direct firepower onto the Phoenix Hawk anchoring the Combines flank. A 1K model according to my warbook, the added protection over a stock version didn’t seem to help as withering laser and autocannon fire flayed its torso open and cracked the reactor - but perhaps it let it stay upright just long enough to unleash a vengeful Alpha strike of it own that amputated one of the Centurions legs at the knee.
Even as both Mechs fell Jackson’s Lance shifted fire, sending LRMs in shallow arcs over the ridge to smash into the front of the Trebuchet. Just barely outside minimum LRM tracking range, the lighter missile boat took a hell of a battering but somehow held its ground and returned fire, joined by the Dervish. The return salvo looked quite pathetic in comparison ... but moments later they were joined by far more LRMs that slashed down over the DCMS Mechs to splash on and around the AFFS Mechs in reply.
Clearly the lead mechs were spotting for their big brothers further back … and happily, both the spotters were ignoring me down here.
So much the better I mentally shrugged, starting to bring my gun-arms up - at which point the reason they were ignoring me became quite clear as a PPC blast ripped into my left arm and my good friend, the Griffin, materialized out of the smoke of the missiles crisscrossing the sky, arcing gently towards me off the ridge in a blaze of jump jets.
Conclusion; in about three seconds, those two very solid looking feet would be firmly planting themselves on my ribcage-
I didn’t remember deliberately swinging my arms and flipping the lower arms up so I was holding both of them up in front of my cockpit (a move that had been hammered into me by Morgan over the last couple of months). But, I suppose that was exactly why he had taken the time to force me to repeat the move again and again until I could do it in my sleep. Because my arms were suddenly up without me having to think as I braced my feet-
BANG!
My seventy-five ton Battlemech took the attempted DFA directly to both arms, driving them back into my torso (and just barely missing smashing into my cockpit). My Gyro promptly did its ‘I give up’ alarm that sounded suspiciously like the original NES ‘Mario died!’ chirp and all I could do was hold on for dear life as my Battlemech spun to the ground with an almighty CRASH!, my head bouncing off the side of my ejection seat.
...
Ouch.
I think I might have actually been out of it for at least four of five seconds because the cacophony of the crash suddenly ended between blinks as I shook my head to try and push through the sharp pain. The world seemed to spin wildly at ninety degrees, making me think I might have a concussion despite the padded neurohelmet … until I realized the Mech was on its side and I was strapped in, now lying parallel to the ground.
Funny thing; as a much younger kid I fondly recalled the Virtual-World pods, for those few glorious years they had been around in Sydney. And how I and my friends were all of the unanimous agreement how much cooler they would be if they were mounted on something that would spin and move them around, letting you feel the Mech stomp and get knocked over and so on.
With some new perspective on that matter, I was confident in saying kid-Smith was full of shit.
Pushing past the disorientation, I sought out the diagnostic board and felt some relief that there was no critical or major damage indicators, just more yellow spots on my armor board. The lower-arm components of the Marauder line were heavily reinforced - hence my using them to shield myself - and it looked like they and their guns were intact. Say what you will about the Star League (and I tended to say a lot even when I shouldn’t) but bloody hell their best toys were built to crazy levels of engineering excellence - something I was admittedly thankful for right now.
“Twelve is okay - I’m getting up” I called out over over lance channel in case someone was worried about me.
I hoped the lack of any answer was just because Hanse and Jackson were busy and confident I could get off the ground and not because they were dead or something, but that was 20-seconds-in-the-future Smiths problem.
Focusing instead on my situation, I carefully pushed on my Battlemechs right arm, applying steadily increasing pressure like I had been trained, forcing myself to do it right. A creaking and groaning chorus reverberated around me as weight shifted (and a worrying clang suggested something had fallen off) before my Mech moved, rolling forward with a bit of a crash onto my front. Focusing, I pulled my legs into a crouch, flexed the ankle joints, then pushed back ‘briskly but not forcefully’ with my arms as my instructors had taught me.
My Mech hesitated as it tilted back … and then all of the sudden it rolled onto its feet, moving fast enough that I had to ‘lean’ forward at the torso to stop from crashing onto my back. Arms on the ground, I suddenly looked like a giant turtle that had pulled itself into its shell.
And as blood started flowing around my body in the correct way relative to gravity, everything felt much, much better.
Stable, I slapped the big yellow button to my right and with a clunk followed by a low screaming, the Battlemechs gyro unlocked and started its spin-up cycle - without any grinding or alarms going off, to my great relief. Veteran Mechwarriors may be skilled enough to spin up the Gyro and stand in a single smooth motion, but I knew my limits - and that here and now was not a good time to push them-
“Smith, on your Seven!” Hanse Davions voice sharply cut into my thoughts and I immediately cursed 20-seconds-in-the-past Smiths decision to take it slow, bringing my holographic HUD back online which showed me…
On the plus side, the Griffin looked like it had landed brutally. Unsurprising that; a ‘failed’ DFA attack tended to end up badly for the Mechwarrior attempting it - as my trainers back on Sark had needed to beat into the heads of some of the more ‘yahoo’ cadets after simulations. This cocky bastards flying kick deal had ended worse, seemingly deflecting off me to smash into the ferrocrete face first with a lot more momentum to deal with.
Yet even as I watched in growing alarm, the thing was just now getting back to its feet, like some kind of ****** final video game boss you thought you had killed that came back twice as pissed…
Heh. Peter ‘Griffin’ verses the Giant ‘Chicken’ - Walker. That was hilarious-
Then it actually struck me, for reals, that I was actually in genuine mortal ****** danger, with a fanatic Kuritan was in my rear arc.
“Shit”.
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Profanity done, my eyes raced across my controls, knowing it would be at least ten or fifteen seconds until I could move - and a side glance at a bunch of Battlemasters on fire suggested Hanse had his own problems to deal with. Crouched like this, I couldn’t twist my torso to bring my arm mounted weapons into play - I was a sitting duck!
At least its PPC was sparking in a very unhealthy way and the LRM racks tubes looked fouled enough that firing them would be a very stupid idea … but its its battlefist was perfectly intact and its ‘fingers’ were flexing ominously as it stomped towards me with an unstable gait that told me its Gyro was damaged ... but not enough to keep it from moving over to punch through the back of my Mech and rip out that expensive bits inside.
Or me.
I eyed my ejection controls for a moment before beyond them seeing one of my weapons status readouts and a lightbulb went off over my head. Immediately, my thumb snapped a hitherto unused hat switch down two settings down on my right control stick and I slapped the stick right, a purple crosshair on my compressed HUD moving around rapidly from my front arc to the rear.
Pulse laser technology, as the name rather implied, unleashed its energy in a rapid series of pulses rather than a beam - although to the naked eye it certainly looked like a single -albeit flickering- beam. It gave better damage output, mostly because each pulse gave a brief window for the laser optics to refocus and adjust to ensure a very tight spread of damage rather than the ‘slashing’ across armor that tended to let armor diffuse and waste a decent amount of a conventional lasers power. The refocusing also gave better accuracy, letting the weapon compensate (to a degree) for both target movement and platform drift to mark a precise point and rip through the armor much better than a normal laser.
However that accuracy came at a price. Laser technology it seemed could be calibrated for static range focus, or, with the use of sophisticated adaptive optics, to refocus with lightning speed … at a much shorter maximum range.
Well, unless of course you were a Clanner. ****** munchkin bullshit Clantech...
Anyway. The idea I was about to put to the ultimate test had come -with many others- from one internet Battletech thread or another and had required some fancy coding work from Team Banzai that had worked great in theory, but never tested in practice. My Battlemechs HUD helpfully overlaid a wireframe schematic on the Griffin as my gun came into line, bright splotches of ‘blue’ inside the red wireframe showing where a GRF-1N’s ‘vital organs’ were, as it was. And as my crosshair settled on top of the Griffins Gyro where armour had been torn away; I squeezed the trigger. And prayed.
I called it the ‘LBx/Laser’ - Patent Pending - even though Tommy Lester had continually protested the name given there were no actual ballistics involved. But then as he had rejected ‘Laser Shotgun’ as well? Honestly, there was just no pleasing some people!
In any event, instead of focusing the pulses on the same point , the cannon sprayed a more rapid cluster of five lower powered pulses within a one-meter radius circle of my aim point where the armor plates had already been torn away...
And I hit paydirt.
The Griffin stumbled as its Gyro tore itself to pieces, the war machine crashing forward onto its arms with black smoke pouring from its chest, landing heavily … then, to my sheer astonishment and mild awe, after a beat the crazy bastard Mechwarrior started to try and crawl towards me on his hands and knees!
Maybe I shouldn’t have made that Family Guy Chicken Fight pun I thought in shock, but then with a beep my own Gyro finally signaled it was ready and I leapt to my feet and floored it, barely dodging its left hand as it reached out to try and grab my ankle!
Feeling slightly bewildered at the Combine Mechwarriors seemingly suicidal determination to come to grips with me I moved off, looking for something else to shoot even as the Griffin gave up the pointless chases down shut down.
Happily, two volunteers immediately presented themselves.
The Trebuchet was down - but it had been replaced by two beefier Thunderbolts who had more than picked up the slack in firepower (but were certainly taking an impressive amount right back in their faces from Jackson Davions group, both sides being in range of all their weapons and just engaging in an all out slugging match). That left just the Dervish and Kintaro backstopped by the two Crusaders - but one of the Crusaders was presently fighting for its life against Jonny and Jimmy who had apparently come back over the wall in an attempted backstab, while the other was splitting its attention, throwing LRMs out with the Thunderbolts while volleying its SRMs down at four Lostech Assault Mechs.
On paper, it was an absurd mismatch. Unfortunately, it seemed the Combine had set the paper on fire by throwing a double metric ******[/i] of inferno rounds at it.
Even Freezers had to obey the laws of physics and if their radiators were ****** up by the ‘Hell-Gel’, the heavily energy dependent ‘flashbulb’ Mechs were stuck trying to vent the earlier heat from their alpha strikes. And with the Combine Mechs running through their SRM magazines as fast as they could reload their tubes and damn their heat sinks...
The Prince's Bodyguards had shifted their formation to try and shield Hanse, but in doing so they had given the game away for which Mech was the most important and the Combine had reacted at once. The Dervish and Kintaro, despite how overheated I could see they were getting on my thermal scope, were trying to edge around the formation counter-clockwise while the Crusader provided cover fire (while occasionally throwing some more LRMs at Jackson Davion), clearly trying for an angle on Hanse directly. All three Mechs ignoring the sporadic medium laser fire raking them back in return even as it steadily added up.
Happily, not one of the trio had seemed to notice my Mech getting back to my feet.
Warning klaxons went off and my heat indicators snapped straight from the green zone into the yellow zone as I discharged my weapons at less than a hundred meters range into the side-rear torso of the Dervish.
Perhaps it had seen me and simply dismissed me in the fog of war as a standard Marauder? Inside minimum PPC range, the MAD-3R would arguably be a threat that could be ignored for a time in favor of doing as much damage as possible to the Assault Mechs while they were incapacitated.
If so however, I’m going to guess the Mechwarrior deeply regretted his decision when both my ERPPCs and four medium lasers slashed in on his already damaged side with the kind of hideous focus my more advanced fire control made possible.
There was an old joke back on Spacebattles design threads that CASE wasn’t about saving the Mechwarrior; that was just a bonus! The real benefit was about saving as much of the precious precious Battlemech as possible for when the salvage teams came looking.
Or as Gunther ‘Deadeye’ had put it in Mech 2: Mercs; ‘kill the meat; save the metal!’.
I saw first hand now just how horrifyingly that played out at point blank range as my salvo, barely slowed by the armour, cored straight into tons worth of unfired munitions. And without CASE technology to try and direct the force of the explosion out pre-weakened structural panels, the reinforced outer shell became its own worst enemy as it instead channeled the eruption into the interior of the Mech. Chaining between blinks with other ammo bins until finally it became too much and the Mech was torn to pieces under the force of several tons of ammunition going up, sending chunks of torso and limbs (and probably half vaporised Combine Mechwarrior) to batter me with terrific force, staggering me backwards.
It was a valuable lesson about staying a safe distance from ‘ammo bombs’ when they went off. Even more so because, as it so happened, the blast and impacts also did a very good job of hiding the fact that other, rather more dangerous things were hitting me from a different angle until Betty cut in to yell at me.
“Warning; armor depletion. Left torso, left arm” she called as the aforementioned sections on the display strobed orange and red as I belatedly realized I was being fired upon! Snarling, I wrenched my now somewhat sluggish Battlemech around to face the direction the attack had come from, walking myself out of the line in the process and causing a clutch of SRMs to rip right past my cockpit, close enough to see any ‘Made proudly on Luthien’ stickers that may have existed as I tried to track the enemy through the smoke. It took precious seconds with my thermals and visuals both screwed from the explosion though and by the time I flipped over to MAGRES, the Kintaro had closed the distance.
Sprinting right at me-
“Oh for ******-” I spat out as I snapped my right ‘wrist’ across and spun my torso desperately, my Mech still too sluggish to try anything but the backhand strike as I desperately tried to set my feet-
Crunch - BANG!
Annnnnd with that, there was that horrible freefall feeling followed by what felt like a Highlander crashing on my ribs … and I was down on the ground. Again.
The wind was knocked right out of me this time and I gasped for air in pain as my head throbbed - but I had no time to waste. I pushed my ‘Mech around as fast as I dared, with groaning and squealing noises suggesting my primary structural framework was starting to get rather annoyed at the treatment it was receiving but I ignored it, pushing off and silently pleading with it to hold together.
Thankfully the damn thing did as I fell onto my front and arms for the second time this morning with a cough forced from my lungs at the move. The Gyro hadn't needed to spin to zero from this impact, so I hurriedly worked through the motions to push to my feet and stand, checking my heat readout and saw it was quickly dropping down (God I loved Freezers!) before searching for the Kintaro-
Ah, there it was. On the ground. With a Battlemaster (now only smoking, not burning; a significant improvement!) looming over it with one foot firmly on its chest … and a PPC aimed at its cockpit. Oh, and both the PPCs muzzle and the Kintaros cockpit were smoking and the Battlemech was not showing as an active threat anymore on my HUD.
The First Princes bodyguards, handpicked Mechwarriors from the Brigade of Guards, did not ****** around with his saftey.
Mentally ticking off the Kintaro from my threat list, movement from above caught my attention as the Crusader that had been supporting the light Mechs raised its arms, clearly wanting to get off one last salvo as it started to back away from the edge - and it was with no small surge of terror that I realized it was aiming all of its considerable guns right at me-
Then … well, its head suddenly blew up rather violently. And unexpectedly.
Decapitated, the Crusader toppled like an ancient pine tree sliced by a lumberjack, crashing over the edge of the rise it had been standing on and falling towards us. Rolling, sliding and tumbling down with a crashing cacophony audible even inside my heavily soundproofed cockpit, it finally skewed to a halt at the feet of the lance of Battlemasters it had helped set on fire, unmoving. Even after Knight Three stepped up and kicked it a couple of times to make sure.
Then, with a thud I felt through my Battlemechs feet, a hundred tons of heavily modified Mackie-9H crashed to the ground right where the Crusader had been standing in a flare of strap-on jump packs, its massive right gun-arm still smoking.
Very few Mechwarriors would be crazy enough to fire a 180mm autocannon while in mid-air, seconds from landing on jump packs. And of that rather select group, few would be able to not simply land the shot, but nail the back of an enemies head from above like that.
Luckily, Morgan Hasek-Davion was both that ****** crazy and that ****** good. Thank God.
More and more Battlemechs fell from the sky as the 1st Battalion of the Davion Honor Guard dropped into battle. Morgan was clearly doing the ‘Davion Thing’ and leading from the front (like we didn’t have enough of those idiots here already!) but his people were following close behind. Sheets of laser fire from them ripped mercilessly into the two Combine Battlemechs still standing (looks like Jonny and Jimmy had already polished off their Crusader without any trouble) and tore them to pieces with neither mercy nor hesitation, but not before the Thunderbolts got off a final spiteful salvo off as they went down that snapped the left leg of Jackson Davions Archer and sent him spinning into the ground.
I involuntarily inhaled sharply as it went down and did not move … but relaxed moments later as a profane tirade on my Lance channel assured me he was very much alive.
Sounding both pissed off and embarrassed (and probably terrified of what his mother would do to him when she saw what had happened to her prized Battlemech), but alive nonetheless…
And I’m sure his mother would forgive him the mess made of her Mech, given that she wouldn’t be burying yet another son who had given his life in the service of his Prince.
“Morgan - nicely done” Hanse complimented his nephew, the Battlemaster stomping up the slope as the Davion Guards formed up smoothly into first lances, then companies as they fanned out and secured the immediate area, checking on downed Mechs. “Knights, regroup and call your status, reverse order - that means you first Smith”.
“Twelve” I obeyed after a glance at my status display, ignoring both the hand holding from the First Prince and the way I was shivering slightly, my hands shaking slightly on the tightly held controls. Damn cooling vest was overdoing things it seemed, despite how stuffy my cockpit felt. “Heat nominal, no internal damage. Moderate armour depletion in some areas, all weapons operational.”
Jonny and Jimmy seemed to have taken very little damage at all - but had burned through all of their autocannon ammo while Jackson sounded more than a little miffed at having to report ‘immobilised and combat incapable’ as he climbed out of his Mech. Two of the Centurions were down, the other two mostly untouched and running half ammo. And aside from a badly scorched paint job and a few antennas and external fittings burned off, the Prince and his bodyguards hadn’t taken much more than some mild armor damage and were ready (even eager I’d say) to get on with the fight.
With nothing else to do as Hanse switched frequencies to talk with Yvonne Davion, I decided I might as well make use of all my Battlemechs impressive command systems to get a ‘big picture’ view of the battle, realizing I had become so focused on this fight I had lost track of the ‘big picture’.
Yet again, proof of why command Battlemechs and commanders being on the front line was a frigen stupid idea-
Then any feelings of relief that I had managed to survive this battle vanished in a second as my displays refreshed.
Hordes of red DCMS Mech indicators were already well past the breach and spreading out across the map of the southern part of the NAIS. And as I looked up in shock, building after building was already exploding into fire.
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How much do you want to bet that Jackson Davion is gonna hop in sombody's back-seat? Maybe, say, a command battlemech with a cadet driving it?
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good to see you back... and a great update. to bad Smith could use a few insults to get some of the DC mechs to come looking for him. nice way to draw a few mechs into a trap.
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Welcome back. Another great chapter. :thumbsup:
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Santa Chris does think We’ve been good this year!!!
Thank Chris, I always enjoy your work.
It’s nice to see our hero not getting too much author fiat and having a realistic time of it. And the overview of the villain being smart about his goals and using surprisingly good strategy.
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We missed you but... I have to sorta, kinda, curse you: I tried to explain this story (and how awesome it's turned out to be) when she tells me to stop. She picks up her phone, calls some Gamer Place... and asks "how much for a PS2? *pause* The cheapest"... it seems that the backstory from Heavy Arms ("Wild Arms")(Whatever..) resonated with her upon hearing my description of this story. I blame you for that ;)
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Remember stumbling accross this story on Space Battle Forums, Glad it is being updated.
Smith has issues with leaders, leading from the front, or should I say commanders leading from the front :o
I am working on a fanfic cross over in which his son makes General Hal Moore's statement from we were "Soldiers once and young" look 'timid' "that I will be the first on the battlefield and last to leave" in which Victor is always first on the surface and last to leave the fight. I know Smith would not consider that a 'wise' use of time and command talent, but Paul, Andrew, Ian, Hanse and even Victor, they are all DAVIONs, they to quote Melissa Steiner-Davion"believe their name means Messiah" so they will lead from the front and command from there as well. If I was a common Soldier, Guard or other commander on the emotional level my morale from having those that need not fight fight alongside me and fight well would be boosted to the stratosphere. Of course it limits the information and direction of the battle, but being in a TOC, or even Mount Davion you could be jammed or bomb(nuked) and taken out of the battle as well. Additionally by knowing where you are and how your are fight well trained and intelligent subordinate Commanders can pick up the ques from your fighting without you issuing orders.
Great story keep it up!
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Well that was a great update :)
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Well, as usual with updates of this story, that update rocked.
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Did Chris ever establish John’s age? And this apparent age in the current world?
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Next chapter on SB (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-563#post-65193868)
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that was epic.
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:) Yes the latest update in SB was awesome and epic!!! :thumbsup:
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Chris has done it again. Epic battle :beer:
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that was epic.
THAT's the understatement of the week. What I find humorous is that Yorinaga Kurita seems to share DNA with Vandervahn Chistu, at least in terms of using cheap methods to win at all costs...
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"THE POWER OF CRAY COMPELS YOU!"
LOL
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I just wonder what Smith's kill board will look like.
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Alright people, BIG chapter here.
This will wrap up the New Avalon Battle, we'll have an aftermath chapter which will also advance things after this.
So you might want to get some snacks :)
Chapter Seventeen: E=MC^2
Something between two-thirds and three quarters of Kuritas main body managed to get through the gap in the NAIS perimeter by the time Morgan was ready to bring them directly under fire.
Morgan’s original battle plan (throw that on the planet sized mass of military plans that had not survived contact with the enemy) had been to deploy his force right on top of Kurita. Of course, a Hover-Drop maneuver with an entire Regiment was rare to see executed in the 3025 time frame - especially by the defenders. Partially because it was quite high risk both in execution and if the enemy realized what was happening, partially because only the most elite units generally had both the training and equipment on hand to do it. Few commanders would also have the stones to drop onto another elite unit as opposed to grounding further away and advancing to contact.
Morgan however had mercilessly drilled his Swordsworn for months in the technique. Putting them through both simulated and real drop maneuvers until the poor troops were probably dreaming about falling through the skies. And with the enemy out of position and divided, it would have been a textbook perfect drop that Indrick Boreale himself may have given an approving nod to … if not for the minor fact that he had needed to divert his Battalion North to pull his uncle out of the fire (literally and figuratively) at the last second.
In Battletech however, Morgan Hasek-Davion had been said to be uncannily good at adapting on the fly to changing situations on the battlefield and turning them to his advantage. I saw the first hints of that today as Morgan deployed, crisp orders streaming out as he read the battlefield and anticipated the flow of combat. While he dropped directly to stop his uncle (and me for that matter) getting char-grilled, he sent 3rd Battalion down to the East - to enter the NAIS in a more conservative drop that would let them get into NAIS without enemy interference, keeping a piece on the board in reserve. 2nd Battalion however he had kept more-or-less on target, if not right on top of the enemy anymore, dropping close to the gate where the DCMS were trying to push through.
Of course, this also meant Morgan had divided his force in the face of the enemy.
That was one of the biggest ‘no-no’s in warfare according to every military textbook - and one that all soldiers were conditioned to jump on faster than your average Lyran on a lose 100 Kronor bill they saw on the footpath. Taking advantage of the Davion ‘mistake’, a Battalion of Genyosha who would never make it inside had assembled and charged off right at 2nd Battalions LZ as they came down, clearly wanting to engage them in isolation before they could link up with 1st Bat and press on the wall. Intending to buy enough time for the last of their comrades to get to ‘safety’ inside and slow the Davion counterattack.
Of course, even at near numerical parity this ‘omega battalion’ had to know the odds were not exactly on their side. 2nd was Morgan’s ‘big stick’, made up of a Company each from the Davion Assault and Heavy Guards plus a Company of the Lyran Royal Guards handpicked by Katrina, while the DC unit was made up of mediums with a couple of heavies and a lance or two of lights.
Even so, the odds of survival (or at least dragging out their deaths and inflicting as much damage as they could for as long as possible) would be much higher if they could engage 2nd in the kind of mobile freewheeling battle the DCMS preferred rather than a slugging match pinned against a wall. Indeed, they might even have felt a brief moment of genuine hope as they came into the visual range of the center company they were aiming at … and they saw it was made up of Banshees.
Honest to God Banshee-3E’s!
Assault Mechs with the firepower of a Medium Mech, they were a bit of a joke only seen in third tier units where any Battlemech was better than no Battlemech. To the DCMS MechWarrior’s, they must have looked deliciously for all the world like a ceremonial Lyran unit on the Federated Suns capital pressed into service for the emergency, what given their immaculately perfect Royal Guards dress paint contrasting against the Davion Guards far more utilitarian thermal suppressing field camo. And indeed, on paper, if the DCMS could smash through them first and fast, they might just have a chance to split the Heavy and Assault Guard companies from each other, then wheel and engage those units with superior numbers in the kind of mobile running fight Yorinaga’s people excelled in.
It wasn’t a crazy Banzai charge though - or perhaps it was, but, executed with undeniable skill, professionalism and purpose. Executing a formation change with parade ground precision as they oriented on the Lyran Battlemechs and accelerated, shaking out into a tight wedge that made it hard to miss hitting them but conversely let the Combine troops concentrate a massive amount of firepower forward making their intentions clear. A logical tactic; ‘wrecking-ball’ through the Banshees with massed fire tactics, then wheel either left or right to engage one of the flanking Davion companies in isolation. Sort of double divide-and-conquer, continually reducing the overwhelming might of the Swordsworn down into manageable chunks where you could bring local superiority to bear in an outstanding display of taking an enemy’s mistake and exploiting it ruthlessly.
Really, the only problem with the tactics … was that they were exactly what Morgan had hoped they would do.
Explosive bolts fired as the Banshees came to a halt and the trap was sprung; vis-Mod coverings painstakingly attached with thousands of man-hours of tech work at NAIS flung away like Neo flinging open his long coat to reveal … guns.
LOTS of guns.
A barrage of particle bolts and gauss rifles had slammed into the tightly packed DCMS force at range with crushing force, knocking out a half dozen Battlemechs and causing the entire Combine formation to shudder as it tried to avoid crashing into itself like an upset house of cards. To their credit, again the Combine MechWarrior’s reacted near instantly with the Mechs on the edge of the formation spreading out and returning fire as they tried to cover for the rest of the unit, but it really wasn’t any use. Shrugging off the scattered return fire, the Lyran’s fired as soon as their weapons cycled without any concern for heat, carving into the beleaguered center of the enemy formation as swarms of LRMs started to rain in from the flanks into the Combine Mechs trying to engage. The Davion Guardsmen now pressed in at a full FOMO sprint, clearly affronted at the idea that the Royal Guardsmen would steal all the kills, expertly collapsing the kill box collapsed around the enemy...
By the time Morgan arrived with both his Battalion and Hanse’s people in tow, the slaughter was all over. Third lesson for the day; massed formations of Assault and Heavy Mechs were ****** terrifying in how rapidly they could dismember lighter units stupid enough to put their head on the block in front of them.
Wasting no time, Hanse had reformed and wheeled around. Sprinting back to the NAIS as fast as he could. And that was when it happened.
A transmission had been broadcast from inside the NAIS over a general channel. A transmission in the unmistakable voice of Yorinaga Kurita … giving voice to a Haiku in English.
The circle is closed.
Return to the beginning.
To find the ending.
Was it a death poem? I had no idea. Was it ominous? Just a tad! Pretentious? Oh God yes.
Did it piss Hanse Davion the ****** off? You betcha.
The Prince took up the implied challenge and smashed his battalions through and over the breach in the perimeter like the mother of all battering rams … only to find Kurita wasn’t even bothering to try and hold the other side of the wall against pursuit. No, the bastard had marched straight into the heart of the NAIS and unleashed his people with clear orders to spread out and go full 1st Succession War on Hanse Davion’s pride and joy - presumably as much to gain a reaction out of the First Prince as to destroy the critical strategic facilities. Starting with the massive campus of the College of Engineering and flinging infernos around like fireworks on New Year’s Eve.
Well, if he wanted to get a reaction out of Hanse, he had succeeded.
Once again, a First Prince of the Federated Suns and Yorinaga Kurita had squared off - although ironically with Kurita in Ian’s place as the Combine Troops kept working to slip away and buy time in a hopeless battle. The Genyosha were not standing their ground like many of their idiotic ‘not one step back!’ peers may have but were performing a fluid defense with immense skill. Smashing their way in and out of buildings to surprise the advancing Guards, hitting the spearheads before falling back as they played out space for time using tactics that also happened to smash and burn the NAIS at the same time - ****** Japanese efficiency hard at work. Making the tactics devilishly effective was surprisingly effective radio and sensor jamming that had started up as the Combine troops had come into contact with the Honour Guard, making a hash of tactical radios and sensors inside the urban jungle as the snakes weaved their way through it. While initially countered by the NAIS communications network being tied into the battlenet, that had only lasted until a burning twenty story building in the College of Finances had collapsed and done something to the underground conduits that routed in that area.
Yeah, idiotic design with single points of failure still happened even in the 31st century at the NAIS of all places and Murphy remained equal opportunity. Go figure.
The communications network had died along with the main power grid, not simply cutting the Mechs off from each other at any real distance but cutting everyone off from the Fox’s Den’s Star League era computers that had been mashing together a complete tactical picture together. In that moment, Command Mechs tactical displays had switched from a crisply rendered image of where everyone was into a ‘fog of war’ - and the enemy was making maximum use of it. The words ‘slippery ****** snakes!’ seemed to be in use an awful lot by company commanders right now as Hanse split off from Morgan, leaving him in charge of one flank while taking the lead on the other to compensate as they adapted to try and pincer the enemy.
The paradigm had shifted when 3nd Battalion had arrived and cut into the dance, checking the Combines vanguard as they pushed (literally) through the Materials Engineering laboratories, rocking them back on their heels in a sudden barrage of firepower. Having landed on the Eastern edge of the campus grounds, Major Green-Davion had expertly maneuvered the much more mobile Battlemechs of the 3rd, 5th and Light Guards through the NAIS. The lighter and faster medium mechs had hit with exquisite timing, many leaping from rooftop to rooftop to spot for fire support lances just as the Genyosha had been about to push out and into the College of Chemistry. Their sudden intervention throwing the Combine troops back on themselves in confusion...
For about fifteen seconds. Give or take.
*
**
******
**
*
While Hanse and Morgan had gone running to the sound of the guns, I … well, I was sent to the rear.
I mean, the orders were a bit more subtle than that, telling me and the rest of my lance to recover our dismounts with the help of a hover APC coming out then head to the CMS campus which was the designated rally point for all NAIS defenders. But translated from that, it was pretty clear we were being sent to the rear. And with Jackson dispo … err, dismounted as well as Jonny and Jimmy out of ammo? It made sense for them.
But why me? My Mech was more or less fine and I didn't have any ammo concerns - and surely they needed every gun on the line?
Most probably I guessed Hanse didn’t think I was up to the bar brawl that he knew was about to come when two elite units smashed into each other with quarter neither offered nor given at point blank range.
Hell of it was, he was probably right.
With my person removed from the immediate danger (even if I tried to keep watching in every direction simultaneously on my 360-degree display) my mind started wandering back over the battle. The adrenaline and training that had gotten me through the first engagements on autopilot was thinning out and leaving my mind going in increasingly small circles as, bit by bit, it sunk in just how close to dying I had come this morning. The crackle-hiss of the PPCs lightning clawing at the edge of my cockpit, the visual of the implacable Griffin stomping towards my immobilized Battlemech...
No video games save-scumming. No reset buttons. No tabletop do-overs. Just … dead.
In any event, I parked those thoughts as our little group approached CMS, following the Hover APC through the gate. Being the nucleus NAIS had been built from, CMS (or NAMA as the alumni still stubbornly insisted on calling it) retained an internal perimeter wall separating it from the rest of the campus (mostly because it would just be too much damn work to demolish it) complete with - limited - static defenses. It also had a fully functional command center with landline uplinks to the Den, an independent power grid, plenty of hard open parade ground reinforcing dropships could land on in a pinch and all the infrastructure to support the cadets military hardware, making it a logical fallback point and/or final redoubt. Indeed, the last known orders BB had given as the DCMS had stormed into the NAIS were for Team Banzai and the Cadets to fall back and regroup here … meaning they should have beaten us here.
They were nowhere to be seen.
They might still be alive, but if so, they were somewhere in the middle of the massive cloud of jamming hanging over the NAIS like an electronic counterpoint to the thick black clouds of smoke, ****** over communications and what datalinks the 3025 era AFFS used. Listening in on the command net, several of the more technically inclined members of Team Banzai’s support staff in the local command center here had positively identified the interference as coming from multiple Capellan EW systems - the prototypes of which they had already seen on a couple of salvaged Ravens brought back to the NAIS late last year.
How in the hell Kurita had gotten his MAGIC BUSHIDO HANDS on that technology?
No-one knew. And as far as I could remember, nothing on that level of technology transfer had happened in the original timeline between the Kapteyn powers, making it another butterfly I had caused. The NAIS communications grid was still down despite frantic attempts ongoing to get it back up again and the steel jungle that made radio unreliable even in normal times was increasingly covered and filled with thick smoke that obscured overheads too; the end result being that outside of close range high-frequency radio links, we were playing double blind rules.
I ****** hated double-blind rules.
It didn’t seem there was terribly much I could do about things as they stood, however. Jonny and Jimmy had run straight to the nearby cadet bays to have their ammo-bins topped back up, an evolution that the crack support staff of Team Banzai could get done in a matter of minutes with the facilities there. Jackson Davion had also gone with them instead of heading for the command post as I anticipated, looking to grab one of the training Mechs that had been left in place as a backup specifically for ‘dismounted’ MechWarrior’s to get back into the battle with.
My Mech didn’t need ammo of course (and I had enough hydrogen in my reactor tank to keep going for months) and while I would have loved to re-armor my Battlemech; this wasn’t Mechwarrior III or IV with field bases to quickly duck into and be back to 100% health in ten seconds or less. Reskinning my Mechs damaged armor would take hours even if they had Ferro-Fibrous armor just laying around (which was something I rather doubted). So when I went back into the battle, I’d have to keep a close eye on where the shots were hitting me...
If I went back into the battle.
I fidgeted a little then as I stood with my Mech on the outer perimeter wall, next to an Autocannon turret diligently scanning for any hostiles, feeling a little disquieted (or possibly disgusted) with myself at how appealing the idea of not going back into battle sounded. When so many people, including the balance of friends I had in this universe, were fighting and risking their lives out there…
So, in an attempt to refocus and with no sign of hostiles anywhere near here, I turned to my command board and brought up the feed from the Fox’s Den relayed via my own SATCOM uplink - and almost instantly stumbled onto a chagrined Morgan reporting into Yvonne Davion, personally via his SATCOM uplink.
She was not happy.
And that was a scary thought.
I mean, I had indirectly seen Yvonne Davion drop her ‘Grandmother of the AFFS who makes epic cookies’ persona once or twice in ‘The Den’. Seeing very senior combat veterans walk out of her office looking considerably paler then when they had walked in and all that. But it was rare, and I had never thought she’d need to put Morgan of all people under the blowtorch.
It was understandable why she was though, given that Morgan was admitting he had lost track of the First Prince of the Federated Suns!
If I was hearing this right, it seemed that having pinned the Combine force (more or less) into the Southern third of the NAIS, Hanse had switched gears and unleashed the infantry NAIS had been keeping in reserve. Using the extensive secure underground tunnel networks, the vast campus had, the infantry had already shifted into place unseen and, when the signal was given, they had popped up all over the place to make a very loud and obnoxious nuisance of themselves.
The actual damage inflicted was limited, but it was rather distracting to have people shooting into your back while you were busy playing tit-for-tat with enemy Battlemechs. And with strict orders to ‘shoot and scoot’, the ‘rat-pack’ had vanished right back down the tunnels and mostly escaped the furious but clumsy retribution cleanly … at which point other platoons had engaged from different directions.
It was kind of like those old ‘whack a mole’ arcade games - except the moles had SRM launchers, LAW launchers and the occasional Manpack PPC or support laser, all chipping away at your armor or even occasionally placing shots neatly into armor breaches they could pick out to wreck things on the inside.
And without their own infantry units to screen then, the Combines possible counters were limited.
The sudden and violent attack that was launched in response was tactically sensible given the situation, very much the best option out of several bad ones. Breaking out of the burning and collapsing Engineering campus that was all but reduced to rubble, two- and a-bit battalions of Combine Battlemechs had still moved as one well-oiled machine, working to collapse whatever was still standing on the way out. Fire support units laid down suppressive fire with the last of their ammo while assault units ripped a breach open in the Davion lines, allowing the rest of the unit to pour through in an attempt to unfold and rip the AFFS lines open from the inside out, all under the cover of their ECM bubbles, often detouring through buildings to try and get around defensive strongpoints. Many of the enemy Mechs out of ammo even carried griders and other improvised clubs from the building wreckage in their hands, clearly planning to use them with TSM enhanced force on the Davion Guards.
Morgan and Hanse, however, had anticipated the move.
With micro-skills a Korean Starcraft Champion would have approved of and banking heavily on Guardsmen subunit commanders doing a lot with very few orders to a big picture, the Swordsworn had smoothly flowed back from the charge, sweeping their units around to suddenly englobe them as their charge became drawn out - before forcing the leading assault elements crash into the stop line at a place of Morgan’s choosing.
Again, the twelve Banshee’s held in reserve stepped forward and again they proved utterly terrifying in the sheer firepower they brought to the 3025 battlefields. Even at close range, for all the undisputed skill of the Combine MechWarrior’s they simply didn’t have an answer to Katrina's fanatic handpicked soldiers in their retrofitted Assault Mechs and the firepower they poured down the narrow choke points as fast as their triggers could cycle. Sure, more than a few fell as their XL reactors were torn open and several others were shot full of so many holes it was a wonder they could stand, but not one of them paused as they kept throwing PPC, laser and gauss fire into the teeth of any Mech stupid enough to challenge the Lyran Wall of Steel. The unstoppable force met the immovable object head on … and this time, the unstoppable force blinked first.
They did not give up mind you. Even as their push ground to a halt, they reformed quickly into defensive clusters of lances and company lines, trying to hold a perimeter around and inside buildings as they probed for an escape route to stay mobile, only to find every direction firmly locked down by tight, interlocking arms of the Honor Guard. They didn’t fight any less fiercely, but the N^2 law and intensity of the combat was now finally catching up to them and everyone knew it. They were running out of ammo, leaving more armor on the ground than on their Mechs and overheating without any break to flush their heat sinks and take a breather. The much fresher Honor Guard were in their element now and they ramped up the pressure steadily as the advantage steadily tilted their way and they pushed the enemy into Combat Loss Grouping.
God knows if there would be much left of the Southern third of the NAIS by the time this ended though.
Then, things went … wrong.
Our glorious Prince had been maneuvering to try and come in on the flank of the enemy main body with his high-technology Lance in the lead. To punch into and cut off an enemy company from the main body and help liquidate it - especially the EW unit hiding there, working to break up the enemies mutually supporting formations. But as he did, a new enemy formation had suddenly broken out of the ruins of the engineering campus, sneaking out unnoticed from the eastern side of the fiercely burning buildings. According to the infantry spotters who had managed to (eventually) get a line in to report to Morgan, it was reported to be a company sized force led by a Warhammer.
A Warhammer that headshotted the two Valkyries on the flank picket with a single PPC apiece, impossibly fast on the draw while seeming to casually walk through the return fire that just flowed around it, refusing to connect to it.
Yeah, no possible confusion over who that was.
Still, even Yorinaga Kurita on the loose with a small force was something that could be dealt with, in time. Nothing to panic about, right?
Well it wouldn’t have been … if not for Hanse Davion chasing after him with his depleted command company!
The man who had killed Hanse Davion’s brother - and tried to drag his body back to Luthien to triumphantly march down Dragon Unity Road and dump it before the Coordinator.
The man who had tried to kidnap his future wife for Gods knows what fate as a prisoner of the Kurita’s.
The man who had led an invasion of his capital to burn down his greatest hope for the future of mankind…
So, yeah, Hanse was off like a bull chasing a red flag according to the infantry who reported his reinforced lance pounding past their position two minutes later, in hot pursuit of the enemy. And as it seemed Kurita had at least one of his units equipped with Capellan EW equipment, because the jamming was disrupting every attempt to reach him or locate him by radio - and with each and every one of the Battlemasters SATCOM antennas destroyed by the earlier inferno rounds...we had a problem.
A big ****** problem!
Worse, even if the Genyosha were being slowly squeezed to death into Combat Loss Grouping, they were fighting like the Elite Combine soldiers they were. Soldiers who also knew they were dead men walking. And so they fought with desperation, commitment, brutality and resolve, furiously thrashing and maneuvering with vicious local counter attacks the instant the Guardsmen gave them a gap, forcing every Davion Mech to hold their ground -often by their fingernails- as the two sides slugged it out at point blank range with Mechs falling on both sides steadily, leaving Morgan nothing spare to go after Hanse with.
The next wave of reinforcements made up of the rest of Team Banzai were still 35 minutes out according to the chatter -and I set one of the timers on my command board to that number- on their suborbital hop and unless he wanted to give the main body a window to break out themselves - and possibly reinforce their master - Morgan needed to keep every single gun on the line.
The fact that I could hear his own weapons firing as he briefed the Princes Champion on the situation rather spoke to that.
THAT, of course was when Jackson Davion had chosen to join the conversation as he jogged his new Mech back out to join me, the two Enforcers behind him matching his pace. And as my stomach started to clench, the man almost happily noted to his Mother that there was now an unengaged mobile unit back on the field, ready to go find Hanse. To back him up.
-
You know, standing in the middle of a street in a war zone, perfectly still, with no cover in a damaged Battlemech was not the way I had anticipated my life unfolding after I had decided to tell Kym Sorenson the truth.
Indeed, I had thought that in all probability I’d be locked into a gilded cage once Hanse understood my true value to him. Living in perfect luxury - but very quietly as I was pumped for information. Something I had accepted at the time because of my decision to do the right thing; a consequence that would be well worth it in the end knowing the cage would eventually unlock (and that it was really a pretty damn nice cage…)
And then? Then I could live out the rest of my life in both freedom and ridiculous neo-feudal luxury in the happy knowledge I had made a difference.
And things had played out exactly along those lines … for about a month.
Then Ardan had insisted that I go to Helm with him - and from there to Tharkad with the overwhelming physical proof that I was the real deal ... at which point things had gone way off track. Specifically; the power duo of Katrina and Hanse had decided to put me into the AFFS ... rather than locked in a room filled with female Canopian stereotypes as I had sort of been looking forward to.
Because they wanted to see what I was really made of.
I mean sure, I had sworn my loyalty and service to Hanse on the grounds of believing in the Federated Commonwealth and what I had given him was unequivocally beyond price towards that end ... but that was me just sitting in an office somewhere throwing information at him.
And perhaps Hanse knew me better than I knew myself - or my attempts to ‘suggest’ and ‘highlight’ things had made it clear I wanted to do more? That I wanted a seat at the table to watch the story unfold?
Or perhaps he just wanted to see how far I was willing to go.
Hanse and Katrina were both very well known in Battletech and here in ‘reality’ as people who had zero tolerance for people refusing to take risks or make sacrifices for the good of the nation in favor of protecting themselves. Of dismissing people who talked a big game, then quietly walked away when the going got tough, be it on the battlefield, in the political arena or even in civilian life.
Or to put it more bluntly; ‘talk is cheap’ - even talk that gets them Star League memory cores. And in my case, it was true; talking had cost me little and gained me, nominally, much.
But putting on the uniform, starting at the bottom and working my way up and standing with everyone else in defense of New Avalon?
That was putting my money where my mouth was … and the thought of losing that hard-earned credibility? And indeed, the respect and friendship of the power players (who in a sad way included my only actual friends in this damn reality?) That meant something.
So as genuinely terrified as I was of being pulped or vaporized, peer pressure was oddly enough a stronger force.
Or perhaps, perhaps, I was standing my ground because deep down I knew that this ****** on New Avalon was my fault.
I was the one who had provided both the Helm cache and knowledge of Kurita’s reemergence onto the stage of the Inner Sphere. Setting up Morgan and Patrick to ambush him on Styx, an event that had both humiliated Kurita and left him in search of a new direction in life. Followed by Morgan pointedly eviscerating him on Terra with a scathing denouncing of his character (fully deserved mind you) and making it clear he considered their ‘thing’ done.
I was the one who had provided all the information that dictated the actions of Takashi (as hilarious as hearing about Hanse casually dropping the existence of his grandchildren on him had been) which in turn had caused his cousin to wash his hands of the Coordinator, sending him on this one-way suicide trip to find Hanse.
I was the one who had snorted and rolled my eyes at the threat of Yorinaga Kurita back on Tharkad all those years ago, openly mocking him as being ‘any kind of existential threat to the Federated Commonwealth’. I think those were the exact words I used. Words that had seemingly caused a pissed off Nemesis to say ‘Hold my ambrosia!’ to Zeus to prove that yes, Yorinaga Kurita could in fact become an existential threat to the Federated Commonwealth!
I was responsible for this mess - or at least a large part of it (although I flat out refused ownership of Hanse Davion ****** playing at Inigo Montoya!). And that wasn’t ego or self-pity, but simple fact. None of this would have happened without my presence and interference - I had the books to prove it! For all the good I had done for the ‘good guys’ - I had to take the bad with it.
Or, as Mordin Solus may have put it; my intervention. My knowledge. My actions.
My responsibility
And if I truly, honestly believed in the Federated Commonwealth… Hanse Davion had to live and I had to find a way to clean up this mess. No matter how terrifying the idea of running towards either the #1 or #2 Warhammer driver in the Inner Sphere was to me, without Hanse Davion this whole house of cards would collapse, and God only knows what would happen then.
No reset button, no do-overs, just a humpty dumpty sized mess.
Hence, why I was standing in the middle of a smoke filled four-way intersection, glaring at my secondary screen and mentally telling it to hurry the ****** up! Because Hanse ****** Davion had taken the whole ‘my responsibility’ thing WWWAAAYYYYY too far in the other direction as he charged after the enemy leader. Not accepting that sometimes responsibility meant sitting in a command bunker out of the battle because you were the ultimate key man risk and if he died, it was all over and thus he had no ****** right to be risking his life like this!
And not just because it meant that we had to now risk our lives to find him!
My Battlemech was equipped with a bleeding edge communications system even by 28th century standards. Lostech in comparison to what was built today, at least outside of the Kerensky Cluster. It had been designed by the Hegemony engineers to try and counter the increasing proliferation of things like the Guardian ECM suite on the late Star League battlefield, which had made it increasingly hard for Command Mechs like mine to maintain open and active data and communications links across the battlespace from ground to orbit, serving as a mobile communications node. Standing still like this served a purpose; providing the maximum stability as a number of small antennas wiggled this way and that way, tasting the electronic screaming in the air around us and with just a little luck-
PING!
Bingo I thought silently as my tactical board updated and a yellow circle appeared on it, shrinking steadily as my system crunched the location of one of Kuritan EW units. Trying to localize a jamming unit like this was supposed to be impossible of course. But fortunately, Terran engineers from the bad old days were bullshit hax in the way they kept all these little optional extras and party tricks for Royal Command units under the hood. I might not have a clue what a ‘phased multi-band H5-type blanket jamming pattern’ was, but luckily my communications systems did and .... there!
“Contact! Looks like the closest Kuritan jammer is in NAIS grid India Four” I declared over the direct lasercom link. As genuinely impressive as the EW Gear was for something the Capellans had built from first principles during the 3rd Succession War, my Battlemech had been designed to deal with far more advanced and powerful technology from the Star League era. Bonus; it seemed the DCMS were running with their IFFs active, configured to work through the jamming. And with my system filtering out the jamming … bingo!
I couldn’t read the encrypted data, but I could localize the signals.
“Looks like it's part of a lance of four Mechs.”
“Good work Smith” Jackson Davion came back at once via the lasercom links my Mech was mediating. “We’ll move in and clear the jammer and see what we can find once it's down. Lets move up on twentieth street until Crucis drive, then we cut across and engage. Everyone stays passive until either they react, or we get line of sight, how copy?”
“Ten” Jimmy conformed.
“Eleven” Johnny was only a second behind.
“Twelve” I signaled my readiness. Before I could find a way to talk myself out of it. Here we go again...
“Execute” Jackson ordered and with that we were on the move, running down the smoke filled yet otherwise perfectly intact streets, the smoke holding a somewhat sinister orange glow from the massive fires raging to the South. Running passive with the smoke chopping down on both visuals and thermals with MAGRES all but useless and seismics swamped with hundreds of feet stomping around and the Kuritan Jamming now working both ways …
Well, we were definitely playing Double Blind rules ... and I was cheating like mad - also in the best traditions of Double-Blind rules. The enemy transponders were not moving more than a few meters here or there meaning they were holding position right in the middle of NAIS’s modest commercial district. They certainly didn’t look like they were adjusting to meet us as we closed in on the final turn...had we gotten the drop on them?
“Alright here we go. Keep it tight. Smith, nail their jammer first if you can localize it, I don’t want it slipping away. Weapons free!”
There was a surge of nervous energy through my body as I double checked my long-range weapons were armed and ready to fire as we approached the corner and I took a deep breath. With our current spacing Jimmy would go out first, then me, then Jackson with Jonny bringing up the rear, the main road having just enough room for us to fit side-by-side across it. And as I burst from the side street hot on Jimmy's heels, I brought my targeting systems up to full active status as I swung my guns downrange...
I swallowed heavily.
Four hundred meters away, just barely visible in the smog to my active sensors, a Kuritan Lance was holding the next intersection, their computer-generated images materializing onto my HUD. They were all stationary - actually a Centurion was really stationary, seeming to have lost most of its leg and being propped up against the corner of a building. A Marauder stood next to it, facing west and firing at unseen targets through the smoke, looking like it was running hot as all hell on the thermal scope. A Dragon was behind them also facing that way and pumping autocannon rounds downrange and my HUD immediately tagged it with a crimson ‘THIS IS THE ****** WITH THE ECM GEAR!’ alert.
Rather more importantly though, a Hunchback much closer at only two hundred meters in a rear-guard position was already spinning to bring its guns - including that great ****** and die’ bazooka on its shoulder- towards us as we stormed out of the side street.
My instincts screamed at me to hammer it before it finished turning while I had a clean shot.
But I didn’t. I had my orders and so I brought my crosshairs past it into line with the unmoving Dragon projection and squeezed the trigger the second they turned gold.
Both my ERPPCs discharged cleanly and two whips of purple light snapped downrange with their distinctive hiss. The Kuritan Mechwarrior was, thankfully, a fraction of a second too slow to switch his ECM modes back from broadband area jamming to the self-defensive ‘Ghost’ mode that might have screwed my fire control and the two shots arced through the smoke to smack into the stationary units rear/side torso clean. Purple fingers of lightning clawed around and through the armor plates and in a sudden white flash, something inside did go ‘boom’.
I was hoping for a reactor hit - but while the Mech staggered, it certainly didn’t die. What did die however, as if a switch had been thrown, was the ECM bubble as all the warning indicators on my HUD vanished, indicating that I had nailed the bulky Capellan EW gear.
I didn’t have much time to gloat because even as I blasted the Dragon, the Hunchback had been spinning around to face us - harmlessly dispersing the laser beams raking over him from Jimmy across multiple armor sections as it did so - before, to my complete lack of surprise, taking aim at the biggest target on the battlefield.
AKA, me.
Of course it’s aiming at me I thought angrily as I violently yanked my Battlemech to the side in an evasive sidestep as Jimmy pushed forward, the frantic high-pitched beeping alarm of a hostile fire-control lock leaving me only the hope that just maybe the Combine Mechwarrior might have gone through all ten shots in the-
New alarms went off as a 180mm autocannon shell crashed into my torso and detonated proving that no, it hadn’t used up its ammo.
My instinct to sidestep had probably just saved my life though as the shell crashed into my right torso rather than my cockpit - but hit at the exact same height making it abundantly clear the DCMS Mechwarrior had just tried to go full ‘BOOM, HEADSHOT’ at me.
The force of the impact still took me off guard, catching me between steps and spinning me with just enough force for me to think ‘oh here we ****** go again’ before with an impressive jolt, the back of my Mech slammed into the building on this side of the road, arresting my fall and not quite knocking the wind out of me. Surprisingly, the building’s facade didn’t collapse, and I shoved back off the building, taking a split second as I did so to look at the damage indicators on the corner of my HUD.
Good news, no penetration, the armor belt had absorbed the massive blast.
Bad news, my right torso was now glowing a very bright red. That one hit hadn’t penetrated, but it had shattered the primary armor glacis leaving that side of my Mech wide open to any further attacks with anything heavier than an automatic rifle. My left torso -which had taken damage earlier from the Griffin and the Kintaro- was also glowing, albeit a lighter orange - it could probably take one medium laser hit if I was lucky, with only my central torso still showing green.
Simply put, any real hits to either my left or certainly my right torso would probably punch straight through. And while I didn’t have any ammo inside that would violently go boom-boom, this wasn’t the tabletop and if an enemy hit either of my side torsos with the right angle, they’d shoot right through the wrecked areas into my fusion reactor or gyro … and even a fluke ricochet could deflect into my cockpit from the side or behind...
All this took place over a matter of seconds and as I shoved off the building, wondering why the Hunchback hadn’t followed up the autocannon with its lasers...ah.
The fact that it had just crashed to the ground, its chest torn open and on fire, might have something to do with that.
Turned out two Enforcers and a Chameleon could put out quite a bit of firepower if they really wanted to, especially in this point-blank slugfest as they pounded past the wreck and up the street, the enforcers autocannon muzzles still smoking.
“Smith, status?” Jackson Davion’s clipped voice cracked into my ears, barely cutting through the noise and I blinked, then belatedly hit the MASTER ALARM RESET switch to kill all the warning sirens.
“I’m operational, no internal damage” I answered, reflecting in a twisted sort of way that at least my damn hands had stopped shaking.
Well, I’d take the small favors when I got them.
“Good. Tuck in behind us, target the Dragon and wait for the shot” he ordered before switching channels. Obediently I throttled up to follow, frowning at what I saw on my now much more clear sensor systems. The enemy Marauder had spun and shifted to put its back to the damaged Centurion in response to our presence, squaring off seemingly against us to protect it, but it wasn’t firing. Possibly because it was reading so damn hot on my thermal scope it didn’t want to risk firing and melting something? Or possibly because the final enemy Mech, the Dragon, had done an about face and was charging at flank speed right down the road towards us.
And Nine, Ten and Eleven were sprinting right back at it in turn.
Playing chicken with Battlemechs rarely ended well. This factoid had been hammered into me during Battlemech training, repeatedly. And with a combined closing speed of something around a hundred and seventy KPH thanks to everyone (except Jacksons training mech, but it was fast enough to keep up on its own) running Triple Strength muscles in their legs, it would be less than ten seconds until everyone smashed into each other here … and at 65 tons, that Dragon had a LOT of kinetic energy to go Kamikaze with!
But these were Elite Mechwarriors ... so even though the distance between the two was decreasing faster than Maximilian Liao’s sanity, I adjusted my aim ever so slightly with each step as they closed, merged - then at the last second Jackson barked an order-
Ah. Right.
In a blaze of fusion thrust all three Davion mechs took one last step and leapt even as the Dragon swung its torso and leaned into the mother of all shoulder charges aimed to slice right through Jonny. It hit nothing but air instead as the Davion mechs casually hurdled over it with a light touch of their jump jets and then, for shits and giggles, opened fire on the the startled Marauder, laser fire ripping into it in midair followed by auto cannon fire as they landed, all without missing a step as they charged right at it. The move clearly took it off guard as it fired its PPCs on reflex but missed everyone as the weapons impacts spoiled its aim, setting a nice coffee shop I had come to like on fire - to my considerable annoyance.
The Dragon meanwhile should have by all rights and the laws of physics fallen flat onto its face.
It didn’t.
Somehow, in a massive spray of asphalt chunks and its left arm catching the front of the buildings down the side of the road and ripping a great gash along them (****** I liked that book store!) the thing managed to skid and slide to a halt, on its feet. Genuinely impressive piloting … that left it stationary precisely one hundred and seventy seven meters from my Battlemech as I too came to a complete stop, my crosshairs having tracked it all the way through its not-quite-fall and glowing the pulsing gold of a solid weapons lock as it came to a halt.
I decided that this was probably what Jackson had meant by ‘wait for the shot’ and squeezed my close-range trigger group.
All five of my lasers discharged cleanly. My chosen target point was center mass; the enormous ‘chest’ of the Dragon that jutted rather prominently thanks to the oversized fusion reactor that gave the design its trademark speed and agility. It was also technically the most well armored point on the mech, but I could see plenty of burn marks and impact craters suggesting it had already taken more than a few hits and all my lasers together should have enough energy to penetrate. And with just a little luck, rip into this fusion reactor or the gyro and knock it out of the fight-
Except right as I pulled the trigger the Combine Mechwarrior ducked.
He must have thought that I was going for a headshot. If so, the irony was sickening because as I squeezed the trigger, the tiny enemy cockpit dropped into my crosshairs, dragging the claws of coherent light upwards as they sliced into the torso, carving straight into his cockpit - and it was all over before I realized what I had done.
The auto-ejection system on the Dragon activated in the milliseconds between the armored cockpit canopy failing and the cockpit being subjected to megajoules worth of thermal energy as my pulse laser punched through, but as fast as the electronics gave the order, the explosive bolts and chemical thrusters took their own sweet time - and by the time it launched into the sky…
I tried very hard to convince myself that I had not seen a person desperately and uselessly trying to slap out the raging fire all over them as the human torch rocketed out of sight behind the buildings.
No matter how many times I had told myself over and over that this was not the tabletop or a video game and these Mechs were not giant robots … it was just so very easy to fall into the trap of thinking you were shooting machines. Not people...
“-Smith, status?” Jackson's voice cracked into my head and I seized the voice like a lifeline, snapping out of it and realizing with a glance at the clock that I had been standing still in a combat zone for over ten seconds...
Jesus Christ Smith, focus! You can Shinji Ikari later! Other people need you!
“Dragon is down, moving to rejoin” I replied, my voice sounding a bit strained to my ears as I pushed my Mech into a brisk jog and tried to refocus downrange, making a notation on my tactical map for a downed enemy mech with an ejected pilot. The enemy Marauder was also down and not moving but the Centurion that had been hiding behind it was dragging itself forward on a gimpy leg along the building it was leaning against, clearly wanting to try and take the fight to us. Its autocannon arm was hanging limply, and it looked like its armor was mostly on the ground ... yet rather than do the sensible thing of punching out, the Mechwarrior was edging forward. The three Mechs facing it were holding in moderate cover to let their sinks flush giving it a poor angle but it fired anyway, sending LRMs and a pair of laser bolts scattering around Jimmy to minimal effect as I drifted across the road and focused in on the near stationary enemy from optimal PPC range, aimed, fired-
Both my PPCs hit dead center - and Jimmy took the chance to lean just far enough from cover to add his right-arm autocannon into the mix; the combined salvo ripping into the exposed core of the Centurion. It’s thermal signature spiked sharply before the Battlemech sort of folded over on itself and crashed to the ground as structural members were severed and I throttled up quickly to rejoin, moving without saying to the right most position as the Lance broke cover and approached the downed Battlemechs in a skirmish line.
As we came together, the cockpit on the medium mech popped open and the enemy Mechwarrior emerged brandishing … were those satchel charges? And a sword?!
Then to my sheer disbelief, the ****** dropped to the ground and sprinted straight at Jimmy, the closest mech to him and although I couldn’t hear him, I could see him screaming ‘Banzai!’ as he ran brandishing his sword-
A burst of 12.7mm machine gun fire from Jacksons two Gatling guns stopped him before he made it three meters. And by ‘stopped him’, I mean turned him into a bloody smear across the road leaving me gawking at the mess.
The complete futility, the waste, the ‘death before surrender!’ attitude …
A whole Star Empire cosplaying the worst parts of WW2 ‘bushido’ Japan all over again (which had about as much in common with real feudal bushido as Mechwarrior 2 had in common with Battlemech piloting) had been sort of darkly amusing in a fictional universe because every story needed a designated villain faction.
But seeing the consequences to humans in real life of Urizen Kurita being a ****** hyper-****** nutter who ensured generation after generation was raised from birth chugging the kool aid...
A priority alert from my command board thankfully tore my attention away from the sickening chunks on the street and I glanced across at said board to see it had recalibrated again with the local ECM unit down and-
I swore in shock before slapping the control to switch the feed into my HUD, confirming … yes! Just as Jackson had hoped, the removal of this EW unit had opened a hole in the enemy net. “Knight Nine - I now have Knight Leaders transponder on my scope!”
The Chameleon out my window jerked around to face me at that news.
“Thank God, where the hell is he?” Jackson demanded.
Good question I thought as I squinted at the readings. The transponders headers included LAT/LONG coordinates that my computer was trying to match to its tactical maps and he was moving, so … there!
“Uh, grid Oscar Seven - looks like he’s moving towards Mallory Park with Knights two, three, four seven and eight” I declared as my display refreshed - this time in a bad way. “And it looks like he's pursuing a bunch of DCMS transponders.”
That was a problem. And from the profanity Jonny just threw out on the lance frequency, everyone else probably agreed as suddenly that damn Haiku Kurita had thrown out a little while ago became clear in its meaning … a meaning Hanse had clearly figured out well before I did.
The circle is closed. Return to the beginning. To find the ending.
Mallory Park was less a park than a forest, a carefully preserved section of the private reserves of the Davion Family that NAIS had been built upon, with the main student dormitories and accommodation buildings at NAIS high around it. It was … almost a private little slice of nature… and it just so happened to be named for the world one First Prince of the Federated Suns had died on, in battle against Yorinaga, to say nothing of being the world Yorinaga had lost his first revenge duel against Morgan Kell with a few years later!
Much as I hated this guy, I had to admit that unlike almost every other member of House Kurita he sure as hell had a sense of panache to have found a way to bring everything full circle here like this.
Not that I had the slightest intention of giving the ****** his do-over.
Slight problem though; between us and the park was a concrete jungle of buildings, mostly residential and too big to easily bash through, with very few paths a Battlemech could take - another factor in the choice as it isolated it and controlled access.
“Smith, I’m still getting nothing on my systems and he’s not answering my radio, can you patch an uplink?” Jackson cut into my thoughts urgently.
“I can try - stand by” I replied, hitting the button that would tell my Command Mech to be a Command Mech and attempt to reconnect to all allied units in range for communications mediation. There was still plenty of jamming in the air that would have made it hard to establish two-way communications with Hanse … except for the fact that he and his bodyguards were running Royal Brigade Mechs like mine with similar boosted communications and if they got a handshake from my systems-
And even as I thought it, Knights One, Two, Three and Four went from grey to green as the link established, bouncing between each of them in a peer-to-peer network. I couldn’t maintain a solid link with any of them, but enough data packets were getting to each I could establish something of an uplink as they pieced it together. Jackson clearly saw the same indicator on his board via my link because a split second later-
“Knight Leader, this is Knight Nine, come in!”
There was nothing for a few seconds but static and I could feel everyone holding their breath to see if the relay would work. Then-
“-ine, we’re **** ily pursuit, Yorinaga is ***** regroup-” he said, the static washing out his message and the connection dropping again for a moment before coming back slightly clearer. “-eat, proceed to Mallory-” then it cut out again and I glared at my board as it declared the signal lost. But it was Hanse, the carrier security encryption confirmed it and from his words, he was engaged with Kurita and he needed backup. Now.
No, what we need to do is grab him and drag his ****** ass out of there! I wanted to scream over everyone, but I didn’t bother to waste my energy. If I could have reached Hanse reliably I might have given it a try, but everyone around me saw absolutely nothing wrong with Hanse running off after his brothers killer, they had made that abundantly clear as we left CMS. Even Jonny and Jimmy whose entire purpose here was to keep Hanse alive were fully on board, simply wanting to join up for the big fight and protect him that way!
Oh I was totally telling on them to Ardan-
Hmm. Ardan. In hindsight, I wonder if that was why Hanse had shuffled me off to the side? Because he knew I’d have no problems citing Galen Cox and Ardan Sortek and blowing his Battlemechs knee joint out the second he started to chase off after Kurita-
“Boss, we can skip over the top and go straight in” Jonny cut into my growing frustration at Hanse even as I reminded myself in the original timeline, he had also done a full LEERROOOY JEEENNNNKINS over to NAIS and taken on the ‘Death Commandos’ single handed in a rage at the affront of them attacking his capital. “We’ve got hard roofs here and if we go up and over, we can be at the park edge in four minutes flat, ready to jump Kurita even before the boss reaches it-”
“Agreed” Jackson cut in sharply. “Right. Smith, you’re going to have to try to follow us on the ground. Ten and Eleven? Up and over! Go!” Jackson urged and with that all three Battlemechs leapt straight up in defiance of gravity like ****** Superman to vanish over the roof of the building above, leaving me standing in bewilderment with a mouth hanging open that was trying to find the words to object to the sheer ****** things had become as Jackson Davion abandoned me.
The only solace that I could find being that if Hanse did survive this stupidity, Melissa was going to make him pay for a very long time for breaking his promise to not ‘run off. And I had great confidence in her ability to make him suffer.
-
Pushing past such pleasant thoughts, I ran a quick tactical query and had my computer estimating Hanse would reach the Southern edge of the park in about … nine minutes. And if I moved around the most direct route North, West and then South … I could make it in about six?
No time to waste then I thought as I spun on a foot and throttled up. The ‘J-Crew’ were rapidly bounding along the roofs on a straight line for the park, the buildings getting steadily taller the closer you got to the park until they hit about fifteen stories. There were a lot of residential and even some commercial buildings that served the students and staff in this part of NAIS, but they were still built to MILSPEC levels with construction allowing Mechs to run over the roof. Assuming they didn’t get seen, they’d have an elevated position to shoot down at Kurita when Hanse engaged … but it’d still be twelve Mechs to nine. Four of them Royal, one of them invisible, everyone probably damaged…
And one that had to be kept alive at any cost.
****** if I could pick who would have the advantage. Frankly, the fight sounded far too even for my liking.
So. If I headed down this street to the West it … ended in a cul de sac two blocks along. Right, but I could take a left just before that, head North two blocks, then West again and then I’d have a straight shot south to the Northern side of the park … and with a little luck, I might be able to find a nice position on a roof I could access to shoot the Snakes in the back a few times.
Well, it was as good a plan as any I supposed as I again dismissed running away as an option or ‘getting lost on the way to the battlefield’; damn this navigation system. Instead, I stomped down the road, killing my transponder and active sensors to try and stay as inconspicuous as a 75-Ton war machine at a dead run could in my attempt to sneak around the back side - man this TSM made things shake a lot when pushing the throttle - but my Gyro readout showed things were still in tolerance. I kept shifting my my eyes over my HUD and passive sensor readouts, knowing that no-one was watching my back this time but it was easy to get distracted and so I had no idea how long that thermal bloom dead ahead had been there before I finally noticed it, focusing on-
BEEPBEEPBEEP! My Battlemech screamed at me as a red warning indicator flashed on top of said contact moments later indicating targeting sensors locking me up.
Morgan's training kicked in without me thinking about it and I swung my torso, my right shoulder just barely interposing itself between a burst of autocannon fire and the giant holes in my chest.
Thankfully it was light autocannon fire as anything heavier probably would have knocked me down for the third time today.
Having deflected that shot with my heart pounding a million beats a minute, I pulled my throttle back as I swung my torso back and brought my crosshairs onto the blob, thumbing the button to scan and designate the target with my FCS.
My targeting sensors went active and in a moment the HUD shifted to project a computer-generated outline of a Blackjack squatting behind some wrecked ground cars and twisted structures, aiming its autocannon arms at me as my own guns shifted slightly to focus their fire on the happily stationary enemy. But as I started to squeeze the trigger from my ERPPCS it suddenly shifted to a blue outline with a bright pink X on top of it. The ‘this is a friendly target and please don’t shoot it!’ sign as my communications systems also automatically interrogated the target and just so happened to trigger a friendly transponder.
This was ‘Rumble-14’, one of the Cadet MechWarrior’s.
“Jesus Christ, you ****** Avalon ******!” I shouted in my cockpit, tension perhaps raising my reaction somewhat beyond professional levels as I yelled the name given to people from NAMA and Albion on Sakhara. “Can’t you read a ******-”
Oh. Right.
“Hold your fire Cadet!” I didn’t quite yell over the general tactical frequency instead as I hit the button to open a channel with the Mech in my crosshairs, pissed now at myself for making such a rookie mistake as I turned my transponder back to fully active status that broadcasted my identity rather than needing to be triggered by a direct friendly data burst. “I'm friendly!”
Well, that would have topped off this wonderful morning wouldn’t it? Being blown out of my Battlemech by friendly fire that though I was the Marauder that had been shooting at them earlier?
“Identify” a somewhat flat voice came back down the line - although I would at least give grudging credit that she A) didn’t fire again B) was challenging me as she should as I continued to close and C) my transponder system pinged as she interrogated it in turn even as she challenged me.
“This is Knight Twelve, First Princes Company” I informed her, figuring that throwing Hanse Davion’s authority by extension around was more likely than not to have her stop shooting at me long enough to read my transponder. Lo and behold it even seemed to work as the Blackjack snapped its arms and the autocannons therein down as it raised itself up from the crouch it was in to more fully expose itself.
Damnit, I knew that DCMS lance had been shooting down this road at someone. Why the hell hadn’t I been more careful?
Easy answer; because until now I had had a whole company working with me who looked after such things. My instructors at Sark would have yelled at me for half an hour for such a rookie mistake and I could not afford to make that mistake again if I wanted to live.
On the other hand they probably would have spent at least a full hour yelling at this cadet for firing on a target without even an attempt to electronically challenge it...
“Oh. Apologies Sir. There was an enemy Marauder down there and -”
“We killed it and the Lance it was with” I cut off the other as I closed, eager to not have anyone else take a shot at me. She - and a Shadow Hawk I could now also see -who had not shot at me- were holding on the other side of the road inside the cul de sac this street ended in, on the other side of an intersection … which was covered in the wreckage of a couple of more Mechs, with impact craters and damage all over the place. The buildings flanking the cul de sac were also looking pretty bloody trashed from this angle with most of the front facade ripped off - these cadets had clearly been on the bad side of a lot of firepower.
I couldn’t dawdle here ... but the possibility of picking up some reinforcements was too good to walk away from as my systems flagged another three … no, four friendly mechs deeper in the dead-end street now cautiously poking their heads out of cover. “I need a SITREP. Who is in charge here?
“...no-one Sir. We - our Six mechs - are the only ones who made it this far to my knowledge out of Rumble and we have no officers left Sir” she replied in a tone so ... steady yet emotionless.
Well, it was rather creepy.
But then, six Mechs total … out of Thirty Six?!
Little ****** wonder she sounded like she had the ‘thousand yard stare’ right now...Jesus Christ!
I knew Hanse had been against sending the cadets into battle specifically because putting cadets, no matter how talented, against Elites was just asking for a nightmare. And that losing a huge number of cadets who otherwise would be scattered across the AFFS to bulk up units and steadily learn to become useful combat veterans and eventually the next generation of key leadership in the AFFS Officer Corps, would just be giving Kurita another victory. He had been convinced only to go so far as to allow a very small handpicked force of final year cadets led by reserve AFFS officers to stand up a force, with the vast bulk of the cadet corps otherwise evacuated to military bases on New Scotland. No matter how high the cadets were on patriotism and outrage, they were officially a third-tier reserve force on the same level as the various Lances and Companies of nobles and their household guards, retired MechWarrior’s and the like who had been reformed into provisional units around the planet.
The truth was that cadets were just easy kills for Elites. Sakhara had proven that and in my training with the Guards I had seen just how outclassed I was. Not simply on a Mechwarrior vs Mechwarrior level, but in how terrifyingly greater than the sum of their parts true Elite units were when they got going. The experience and skill that shone through in the chaos of major engagements as down to the smallest subunit the force moved and acted as a single monster with incredible speed and decisiveness.
Then, add in the chaos Kurita had caused with his jamming units and off the wall tactics today and these cadets had honestly been ****** as soon as the enemy had gotten inside their OODA loop. Experience and leadership at that point told over everything - even hardware. It was as true today as it had been in France 1940.
And Hanse had clearly been proven right given the state of these poor bastards...
“Very well” I exhaled, “how did you all end up here?”
“Sir, everything … it went to hell when the gate fell” a new voice cut in, this one flagged as Rumble-18 and coming from the Shadow Hawk after an uncomfortable bit of dead air from Rumble-14. “Doctor Banzi issued a general order for us to withdraw while Team Banzai -what was left of them anyway- screened us. First company was tangled up, but a lot of us in second got clear as we moved further West, then North. I have no idea what happened to Third. But that Combine lance chased us all the way here - but we were keeping ahead of them until the missile boats opened fire from the North and took out Cadet Lieutenant Hall and Cadet Harris. We took cover here from the missiles - then that lance caught up and, well, we were trapped. I … I thought we were finished. I know we should have tried to counterattack Sir, but-”
“No. Holding in cover was absolutely the right call Cadet - you people did good” I assured them all with a glance around the shattered area, not wanting any of them to think I thought them cowards for doing something smart like finding cover when outnumbered by superior numbers of enemy units throwing massive firepower downrange.
Especially given that except for the Blackjack and Shadow Hawk, all of them were running lights. “If nothing else, your staying alive pinned a full enemy unit in place keeping you contained and out of the battle…” my voice trailed off as something they said finally clicked.
Missile boats? Hang on, there weren't any missile boats in the lance we just nailed...
“Cadets, you said that Lieutenant Hall was destroyed by missile fire ... from the North?” I asked, glancing at my tactical board which was not showing anything but the cadets in close proximity, with a bad rash of red ‘CONTACT LOST markers now across Knight Company’s transponders. Of course, the lack of contacts might simply mean that the DCMS Mechs were hiding passably in the trash returns from the EW units that were still making life completely impossible for any passive sensors inside this urban jungle...
But even so, there was no reason for Kuritan Mechs to be this far North unless they had broken off from the main body and headed that way shortly after entering the NAIS … and why the hell would they do that?
Missile boats were really not terribly good in a close range urban fight on their own (unless you used ****** Clan tech) so why had they run all the way out here? Picking off units retreating to the CMS made some sense ... but there was no way they could have known that was our rally point, could they?
“Affirmative Sir” another Cadet - Rumble-22 -confirmed in a painfully young voice. “From about a Block North of here. They were shooting high-low with indirect LRM fire - damn accurate fire too. We never saw the Mechs, but the volume was incredible, it blew Lieutenant Hall to pieces but a minute after we got in cover, the missiles stopped coming. We couldn’t really tell what was going on through that jamming and the fire coming in from the East keeping us pinned, but I saw seismic shifts that might have been them moving off to the West?”
...And then it all clicked as the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
The Kell brothers had defeated Yorinaga last year by pouring LRM fire into him from ambush. Using a NARC beacon from Helm to bypass the Phantom Mech threat, pounding his Warhammer into scrap in a storm of fire he had been genuinely lucky to escape from. And that after all but inviting him to walk through the battlefield, unchallenged and stand before Morgan as if he was indeed offering him the formal duel to the death as he had dreamed and hoped for all these years before dropping the hammer on him.
Of course, that brutal put down had been about the Kell brothers (more Patrick than Morgan) demonstrating contempt over his obsession for a rematch and an ‘honorable’ duel against Morgan. Because he was (as I had pointed to both Patrick and Katrina years ago) entirely unworthy of one. What with taking whatever dishonorable steps he saw as necessary to force Morgan to stand against him. Be it trying to kidnap Melissa Steiner, cheering on plans to assassinate most of the Kell Hounds in their sleep to goad Morgan into action or just outright cheerfully threatening to blow up a dropship filled with civilians if Melissa wasn’t turned over to him post haste.
Let alone the fact that ultimately this all came down to the fact that he was just butthurt about not being allowed to drag Ian Davion’s body behind his Mech down a parade on Luthien to present to the Coordinator and only had to settle for killing him in a fair fight.
Minobu Tetsuhara, this guy was not.
So, having been burned, twice now by the Kells using the Kuritan fetish for honor duels against him and humiliating him twice, it suddenly became clear to me that it was incredibly sloppy of us to presume he still wanted that. To assume he had learned nothing from our tactics to knock him out and that he had come all this way just hoping for ‘third time lucky they won’t rules lawyer or cheat their way out of this’!
In fact, I could only think of one reason he’d have placed the missile boats up here in secret.
Malloy Park, I realized in dawning understanding, wasn’t exactly symbolic of his desire to redo the duel (this time with Hanse for Ian) … but we were supposed to think it was. To think that Kurita was going for a redo of his confrontation with Ian - or Morgan for that matter- but this time with Hanse. All his actions to pull Hanse up here for a little rematch, playing to his own stereotype … then when he had Hanse in place, he was going to pull a ****** Vandervahn Chistu on him! Win the Mallory’s World battle using our rules against us…
Part of me knew I was throwing guesswork on top of guesswork here … but something in my gut was screaming at me in the same way it had when I had seen Kurita apparently blithefully flying to his death in orbit earlier this morning.
And if I was wrong, well, I was wrong. But if I was right...
-
I looked at my clock - only perhaps five seconds had passed even if it felt like I had been sitting in horror for eternity and I almost ripped the switch on the console off as I switched my radio back to Knight Companies assigned frequency.
“Any Knight Elements, urgent, do you copy?”
Static blasted back at me and I glared at my communications board.
Of course, there was always the chance they could hear me even if I couldn’t hear them.
“All Knight Elements, Knight Twelve. Be advised, Kurita has multiple LRM heavy units in the vicinity of Mallory park in ambush positions. I think Knight Leader is walking into a trap, get him the hell out of there!”
Static remained was my only answer and helpless frustration spiked into my head as I looked frantically over my bleeding edge communications board. A trained communications technician could have done a lot to manually work it and try and break through the jamming - but that wasn’t me. I could run the automatic sequence again, but that would take time and that was the one thing I did not have - wait, the SATCOM link! I toggled it up and - Gods DAMNIT!
Apparently, my SATCOM antenna had been trashed from that Hunchbacks attempted headshot and I hadn’t even noticed. That meant I was cut off from both Morgan and Yvonne Davion so I couldn’t yell at them for help. Running to the Swordsworn directly would take what, ten minutes? Presuming I didn’t run into any trouble of course, then ten back with any backup I could find in a hurry. And it would be about that long to run back to CMS...
Far too long. I ran my gaze left and right across my tactical boards, desperately looking for anything. I was alone, I had no backup no...
I paused and then looked back out my window beyond the HUD. At the the cadet Mechs patiently waiting for someone they thought was a trusted officer of the First Princes command company to lead them to safety.
...
“Sir? We’re ready to move out for the CMS rally” a voice broke into my thoughts - Rumble-16 according to the tag on my HUD, clearly wondering why I had gone so silent.
“Cadets” I said finally, slowly. “Lowest to highest, give me your combat states” I asked as the recovered Battle ROM footage I had watched over and over of the ‘Battle of Sakhara’ as it was being called played before my eyes yet again...
“Rumble-14” the Blackjack called in first, her voice as flat and distant as ever. “Armor state six, fifty percent ammo remaining.”
-My cadet friends, grossly outclassed and outnumbered being torn to pieces by the ash-grey Battlemechs advancing rapidly, expertly taking full advantage of their superior numbers and firepower with breathtaking coordination as they pounded the defensive positions at the wall-
“Rumble-15” the Shadow Hawk was next. “Armor state seven, uh, AC is down to eight shots, LRMs and SRMs good.”
-The chaos on the communications lines as cadets started to panic and talk all over each other as the enemy surged through the campus, seemingly breaching from all directions at the same time-
“Rumble-16” a Firestarter called in. “Right arm is gone, otherwise armor state eight.”
-Cadet Battlemechs falling one after the other as officers tried to hold things together and the attempt to execute the planned fighting retreat started to dissolve into a rout as the Kuritans suddenly increased the pressure to a whole new level-
“Rumble-18” a Valkyrie was up next, the MechWarrior’s voice sounding rather muted. “Eight salvos left, armor state four.”
-My old platoon (who had to my painful pride held it together) buying Dean-Davion the precious seconds he needed with a sudden push at Kurita that forced the Snakes to react, leaving their principal uncovered for precious seconds as DD leaped in from the other flank in his new Hatchetman, roaring over the enemy lines on a perfect angle to plant the massive Hatchet into Yorinagas face with the courage and boldness demanded by House Davion of all its members ... only to be blown off course and crash to the ground as Yorinaga snapped around faster than a striking cobra to blast him in mid-air, nailing his autocannon ammo bin-
“Rumble-19” a deep voice called in from a Javelin, sounding bizarrely like Keith David. “My rear torso is stripped, otherwise I’m good, sixty percent ammo.”
-The security footage from the hanger that Kurita had missed - or deliberately left- showing the ISF commandos ruthlessly lining the surviving cadets up against the wall, including Julia, then starting to shoot them one at a time until Akira’s Orion had stomped into frame and leveled its medium lasers at the ISF officer -
“Rumble-22” was last, a Jenner of all Mechs, surely salvaged from House Kurita in some skirmish. Probably a family Mech. “Armor state nine, four salvos of SRMs left.”
The short answer was yes. I could do this to these kids. Put them through this.
Because I needed them.
“Cadets, I know your last orders were to get to the rally point, but we have a situation” I started, fighting to find the right words even as I knew every second counted. “Prince Davion is heading for Mallory Park in pursuit of the enemy CO, Yorinaga Kurita. Odds are about even, but those LRM boats that blasted you? I’m pretty sure he is sneaking them into the Northern side of the park to make sure this fight ends with the First Prince blown to pieces as soon as he’s in position.”
There was dead silence from the cadets. Which I suppose meant they were listening - wait, did I have my radio set correctly? Yup. Just silence.
Then again, having been a cadet rather recently I did understand that ‘Officers talk, Cadets listen!’ was heavily pounded into one's head.
“The Swordsworn are tied up finishing off the rest of the enemy force, they won’t be in a position to help until this is over, one way or the other” I continued laying out the bad news in as matter of fact way as possible and as quickly as possible. “Our heavy reinforcements won’t get here in time either which makes us the only force that might be able to find and flush this ambush before its sprung.”
Again dead silence. And I didn’t know how to take that but something in me snapped at the silence and I couldn’t help myself as I clenched my jaw and decided to stop dancing around it. To drop the ‘formal briefing’ approach and just give it to them straight up. God knows they deserved to know the hard truth.
“People; this is the turning point. This the focus of this entire campaign. Right here, right now. Yorinaga Kurita has fought his way across the Federated Suns sacrificing everything for this singular moment in history. Perhaps the most singularly deadly Mechwarrior in the entire Inner Sphere and one of the Combines greatest regimental leaders in command of a fanatical bodyguard who will do whatever it takes to help him complete his mission is waiting for our Prince to walk into his trap right now I shit you not!”
Again, silence - although several of the Mechs shifted very slightly in a way that suggested the Cadets were gripping their controls a little too tightly.
Part of me said I really should tone it down a notch … but I couldn’t lie to them. Wouldn’t lie to them. Not after what happened on Sakhara.
If I was going to drag these cadets into this, I was going to play it straight.
“None of you are Guardsmen. Hell, I don’t even technically have the command authority to order you to do a damn thing” I continued to undermine my position grandly. “But … I’m asking anyway” I said, swinging an arm out to point vaguely towards where Hanse was. “The liege we swore our oaths to is in mortal danger and the future of the entire Inner Sphere is going to pivot entirely based upon what we do in the next ten minutes. I’m going in - but that's my job. It’s not a job for cadets - and no-one from Hanse on down would deny you have all done your duty. So … well, I’m just going to leave it at that. You can head for the CMS now - the path should be clear if you just head East for a bit - and follow your orders. Or, you can come with me” I paused for a second as I wondered if I could really push this button before pressing ahead.
“But understand if you come with me, you’re no longer cadets. Come with me and you’re coming because you’ve made a choice … as MechWarrior’s.”
AFFS Cadets, I knew full well, did not formally earn the right to the title of ‘Mechwarrior’ until they graduated and were issued the ‘spurs’ that they wore on dress uniforms with enormous pride (and to make it clear they weren't no damn grunt or crunchie). Cadet mechwarrior’s (small ‘m’) dreamed of the day they would be handed their rank tab and spurs - God knows I had put up with incredible amounts of it on Sakhara. In the entire AFFS, as I had been reminded many times, there were less than fifteen thousand MechWarrior’s in total spread out across the realm of hundreds of billions of people, about half of whom didn’t even have a Mech right now. Some were dispossessed, some promoted to drive a desk; but even without even a Mech, the title meant things. It had a power entirely out of whack with anything I knew from back on Earth.
Unsurprising really, for a universe built off a game whose core was about Battlemechs.
Right now, I was coldly targeting those preconceptions … and mashing the Mech-Cult button so hard it was stuck. I was knowingly manipulating a bunch of kids in the hope that they would follow me right back into the grinder when they had sure as hell done enough this morning …
And as it turned out, it was less than two seconds before the first kid was speaking up.
“Rumble-15, good to go Sir!” the Shadow Hawk pilot was first in proudly and that seemed to trigger the rest of them all at once, with a rapid fire series of confirmation calls, all but overlapping in their haste ending with the quiet but suddenly determined and human conformation of “Rumble-12, ready” from the Blackjack pilot, all of which left me closing my eyes for a second as a new weight crashed onto me.
God forgive me, they sounded eager. In a matter of minutes, I had gone from Shinji ‘I mustn't run away!’ Ikari to Gendo ‘The need is the justification, there are no other factors to consider!’ Ikari as I dragged these kids back back into the fire and threw them at the enemy in the hope of keeping Hanse alive … because he needed to stay alive.
If the Federated Commonwealth was going to have even a ghost of a chance of working and dealing with the shitstorms coming down the line … I needed Hanse Davion alive.
It was that simple.
I allowed myself the luxury of a full two seconds to stew in my self-loathing after the final check in … then I gathered it up and threw it all to the side with all the absolute ruthlessness I could muster. I could hate myself later. Right now, if I wanted to keep both these kids -and Hanse- alive, I needed my A-Game.
“Link in on my handshake” I ordered briskly. “Stay passive on sensors; we’re moving out” and with that I throttled up quickly to a brisk 60KPH jog and obediently the six Mechs fell in neatly behind me as I pushed North. I already had the NAV points to the park and if the LRM boats were hanging around in ambush, they would probably be somewhere along this course. And if we missed them, or if they were in the park itself, we’d be in position to drive right into Kuritas back and see what damage and disruption we could do...so I guess that worked?
Set on my course I hit the autopilot, killed my transponder and turned to my Command Mech systems, activating a pre-built Macro Hegemony programmers had included specifically for this situation - or at least those the SLDF often found itself in during the Star League Civil War. Piecing together company or Battalion sized forces from scattered elements, even from multiple regiments or divisions with the touch of a button. It was a situation the SLDF had found itself in depressingly often as their divisions ground their way through occupied Castles Brian with losses that -by today's standards- were obscene. And while the task here was far smaller, my systems were just as effective. Obediently, the machine interrogated the cadets around me and at my conformation, sent them all the Battlemech equivalent of a friend request. The cadets obediently accepted the handshakes and in moments my computers had a complete diagnostic readout for each mech, had updated their communications systems with a new private frequency and a proposed new callsign and transponder package for out unit from a list that had been preloaded by the techs before the battle for this contingency.
Now we were apparently ‘Pappa Company’ - and I couldn’t help but smile wryly at that.
“Pappa Two and Three” I said meaning the Blackjack and the Valkyrie. “You’re with me in First Lance. Pappa Four, Five, Six and Seven, you’re Second Lance and Four has the lead” I said, grouping the closer range Firestarter, Jenner and Javelin with the Shadow Hawk in the Lance leader position because the Jack of All Trades Battlemech could support them ideally at all ranges. Everyone but me also had jump jets which could be useful, as I tried to frantically come up with some kind of plan - any kind of plan - rather than go ‘seat of my pants’ … but right now all I had was ‘seek and destroy’.
Well, there was something to be said for the KISS principle I hoped.
There was a chorus of acknowledgements back via lasercom and I turned back, disengaging the autopilot as we moved quickly. I switched modes on my passive sensors regularly between visual, night vision, MAGRES/UV and thermal, looking in vain for any sign of friendlies or enemies but there was nothing. No man’s land. And if the enemy were out here, they were rigged for silent running because I wasn’t getting a peep from my communications board’s ELINT systems as we rounded the first turn carefully to start moving West and found … nothing.
One turn down.
The long road looked clear out to where my passive sensors couldn’t penetrate the bloody smoke. Not wasting time (and personally thankful that Thunder-LRMs hadn’t been invented yet as I remembered one brutally long urban tabletop game against an ****** Capellan player who delighted in dropping them on every Gods damned intersection) we throttled up and glanced at my tactical map, zooming the scale closer and rotating it. We were now heading straight West and in about two minutes would be directly North of Mallory Park at the only Mech-sized access road into it from this direction. The logical place for the missile boats to wait in ambush was somewhere between that point and the park because they’d be close enough to cover the entire ground with their missiles, far enough away to be hidden in ambush yet still able to advance directly into the battle pretty quickly if called.
That seemed to leave a lot of possible ground … but ...
Inner Sphere LRM launchers indeed had a ‘minimum range’ like in the tabletop game, a consequence of the way the launchers were built and the missiles were kicked out to prevent fratricide, with a pre-set minimum arming distance to allow the missiles to stabilize as they rippled, often ‘bumping’ as they launched and no-one wanted them blowing up in your face. There was thus a defined minimum ‘bubble’ needed if you wanted to launch your LRMs, especially indirectly ... and the streets around here with their tall buildings were poorly situated for it.
In fact the only real place outside of the park itself from this direction you could put a missile boat and give it an effective field of fire while still keeping it out of sight and not skylined...
Here I thought as my battle computer ever so helpfully ran the problem (turns out positioning units and calculating optimal positions for a given field of fire of certain weapons was something command mechs were supposed to do) shading most of the area in red … with just a couple of green positions. By far the most promising was a block North from the park, screened by a final line of buildings from direct observation. It was really a number of buildings sort of linked together belonging to the Biomedical College, but on its rear the central building had a large loading dock area with a switchback ramp up multiple levels to a large rooftop car park or storage area that would give a perfect but hidden field of fire over the entire park.
And if I was calculating this right, Kurita would already be in the park and Knight Company were only a few minutes behind them. Team Banzai’s Second and Third Battalion were still well over fifteen minutes out – and I still couldn’t help but wonder where BB was, they couldn’t all have been trashed … could they?
“Alright Pappa, we’re going to check out this building” I dropped a NAV point on the building in question as we pounded down the road, the kids two-by-two behind me. “The enemy might be there. If so, we engage and hold their attention on us so they can’t ****** with the Prince. If not, we press forward to the park and see what we might be able to do there.”
I was really hoping the later would not be the case; we’d surely get torn to pieces in short order if we hit Kuritas main force with a half dozen light Mechs.
But as the legendary Commander Adama had said; sometimes you just had to roll the hard six.
“Stay close and pace me until I give the word” I finished and with a flash of ‘SIGNAL ACKNOWLEDGED’ lights, we were off.
Two minutes passed in a blur of buildings in my green night vision mode as the counter continued to tick steadily down, the tension rising in me with each step as I kept working through my logic and found flaw after flaw after flaw with it ... but found I had no better ideas because if I was right...
Finally reaching the designated NAV point, I eased to a stop with the cadets stacked up behind me like a SWAT team without needing to be told before shifting my Battlemech out a little from the building that was blocking a line of sight on the Biomed building. Extending my right arm just far enough out of cover so the forward looking sensors on it could take a peek...
I didn’t know to be terrified or elated at the fact that my gut (well, my SLDF issue battle computer anyway) was dead on the money. Standing atop the building were four thermal contacts that, from the neutrinos being sniffed out by the MAGRES sensor, were four active Battlemech fusion reactor sources.
“Four active fusion contacts confirmed atop the roof, stand by...'' I passed back by LASERCOM, switching modes to raw visual and trying to get an eyeball on them ... but I just couldn’t make out anything through the damn smoke unless I went active - which would instantly let them know I was down here … but it seemed that Murphy took some tiny amount of pity on me then because a gust of wind happened to whirl it away the smoke from there as I was watching ….
Well ****** a duck.
Catapult. Trebuchet. Whitworth and an Archer?! That was enough LRM tubes between them to make anyone’s life miserable. No wonder the cadets had thought the sky was falling I thought as I pulled my arm back.
“Alright. I mark four Mechs on the target building. One Catapult, a Whitworth a Trebuchet and one Archer'' I relayed as my Battlemech automatically updated the contact markers and passed them back through the company links to the friendly fire control systems.
The Catapult was, in my opinion, arguably the most dangerous ‘Mech here. Two 15-rack missile launchers and four Medium lasers for a secondary battery. Solid armor and a lot of Jump Jets too. It was a killer of light Mechs as much as a long-range missile platform and we needed it dead fast before it maneuvered clear and started engaging on its terms.
“First Lance, you’re with me. We’ll step out of cover and hit the Catapult first, Time on Target. Second Lance, the instant we move I want you up and over. Do whatever it takes but get in their faces under LRM range and make it count. I’d recommend you knock out the Trebuchet first if we manage to nail the Cat. Above all, keep mobile, razzle dazzle but don’t take stupid risks. The objective is to keep them contained and out of the big fight and for ****** sakes watch that Archers fists if you get close. With TSM he’ll punch right through you. Everyone ready?”
There was a chorus of painfully eager acknowledgements and I glanced at my timers. Hanse would reach the park in as little as thirty seconds. I didn’t have time to overthink this or worry about the flaws I could already see in the plan; it was the best I could do because we had to go now.
-
“Alright Mechwarriors, in three … two … one … mark!” I ordered and with that I took several long steps out onto the other side of the road and swung my guns up, Pappa Two and Three pacing me. 360 degree HUDs actually made it hard to sneak up behind a Mech if you were at the same height. But as these guys were quite high up and we were behind them, there was a good chance we’d be missed this low for at least a few seconds as we stepped out and took careful aim.
Of course, going active on our targeting scanners kinda made the point moot anyway.
Pappa Three fired first, her ten-shot LRM launcher thanks to the height difference just barely in effective range, throwing a salvo of missiles out that snaked over and zipped almost straight up before tipping over and down in a tight arc that would terminate in the back of the Catapult - and to my mild surprise Pappa Four added his own five-tube launcher to the salvo without asking a split second before he started his leap into the sky with the rest of Second Lance. Pappa Two joined in a few carefully calculated seconds later as the missiles curved through the night, her light autocannons each spitting a five-shell burst of 40mm cannon fire with great precision as I last of all squeezed the trigger for my arm mounted weapons. I was well within range of all my guns, but wanted the minor but real added accuracy benefit from my arms to make this count.
Time on Target was a tactic that had originated with artillery units in WW2, to try and ensure as many shells from artillery units arrived as possible in the shortest window of time like a hammer rather than a steady rain. It had been adapted with the evolution of the Battletech paradigm of large numbers of differing weapons with different propagation speeds - the Stalkers we had picked up from Helm even had an automated fire control system that would synchronize missiles with lasers for maximum heat efficient impact. And if you pulled the tactic off, it could be quite devastating...if you hit of course.
The Catapult had spun around faster than I would have ever believed possible from the lock on warnings (the sudden bright flash and smoke from under it suggested it had actually used its Jump Jets to spin around on the spot!) but that just meant it took the full salvo ‘to the face’ without having fully gotten its feet under it. First the missiles blasting craters across its torsos, then the autocannon shells sending sparks flying everywhere after them - then my PPCs and arm mounted Medium lasers slashing into the mess last of all, centre mass (God I loved this things advanced fire control system!) all inside a second.
It snapped back from the uppercut … and proving that occasionally Murphey would hand out a bone just so you couldn’t accuse him of being one sided, the DCMS Mechs left foot tangled in something on the roof as it stumbled, acting like a pivot and jerking it spinning around and forward before it suddenly tore loose-
It was the second Catapult that I had seen crash to the ground on this very special day.
The problem being that this one did so twenty two meters above it.
Got to say, a 65 ton Battlemech pitching head over heels off a roof to land head-first on the front made an awful lot of noise and could shake the ground hard enough that my Mech had to actually shift its actuators slightly to compensate.
Even if that pilot was still alive, that Mech was not moving anytime soon. Damn.
“Catapult down” I called out, wincing at the thought of what it would have been like to crash into the ground like that … especially as it seemed that the infamously big cockpit of the Catapult had partially collapsed inward...
My heat sinks had been overtaxed by tying in my medium lasers with the PPCs - more than they should have been and I frowned, suspecting one of my torso Freezers might not be working quite right despite the green status indicators, but I could still move and did so at a stiff walk, keeping the fallen DCMS Mech covered as waste heat flooded into my cockpit. High pitched squeals come roars of fusion torches passed up and over me as Pappa Two and Three exploded through the night sky trailing Second Lance, who were already above us with weapons fire lancing out at - crap, I had forgotten about that rear facing twin Medium Laser turret on the Archer!
Pappa Seven paid the price for my lapse with his Mechs right arm torn off at the shoulder in a blinding shower of sparks and molten metal. That was actually less of a problem than it could have been (what with the fact said arm carried no weapons) but it did unbalance the Mech in mid-air and caused it to tilt and sort of fall and slide away from the rest. It was close enough to the building though that it simply crashed into the side of it right on the switchback ramp which surprisingly held up under the impact, even as the back wall partially collapsed as the Mech half punched through it.
A far from perfect landing, but better than the alternatives - and the kid was up in moments, shaking it off ala Taylor Swift and starting to move up the ramp to the roof in a hurry.
Crimson laser beams back slashed across the sky in reply, a massive barrage from the remaining five jumping Mechs that focused on the Trebuchet, trying to knock out the enemy Mechs with their opening salvo. Only about six or seven of the medium lasers impacted and carved into its rear torso - but it was enough and its left side erupted in fire and shrapnel as the LRM magazine therein exploded, the missiles ripping into the heart of the missile boat and spinning it to the roof an unmoving corpse.
“Trebby down!” Pappa Five reported in a somewhat gleeful, breathless voice as the lighter Mechs landed around the Archer and remaining Whitworth like a pack of raptors from Jurassic Park. I had no line of sight - I had walked too close to the building for that, but my systems tracking things pinged an alarm on top of the projected image of the Archer through the building as my people landed - a missile launch alarm. I wondered what the hell it was doing - firing at this range would have its missiles spray uselessly everywhere-
Which was exactly what it wanted to do, as it so happened.
A massive cloud of grey smoke from more of those damn smoke-LRMs erupted as the missiles indeed scattered everywhere into thick clouds of grey crap that flooded out and rolled over the edges of the building in a rapid wave. Changing the rooftop car park in an instant from a shooting gallery with the two Combine mechs at its heart into a knife fight in a telephone box with blindfolds on.
“Jump out people - don’t play his game!” I didn’t quite yell down the line and waited anxiously for long long moments as there were a rapid series of explosions and weapons discharges through the smoke - then was thankful to see one - three - five Mechs leap backwards out of the smoke, pulling back to the roofs of nearby buildings - then clenched my teeth as Pappa Five, the Firestarter, came staggering backwards out of the smoke, its torso a twisted sparking mess from what I suspected was a hell of a right hook, pitching the side of the roof even as its pilot yelled out something about burning-
Fire exploded around the Firestarters head as the Mechwarrior did the smart thing and punched out and my breathing stopped for a second as the ejection seat almost smacked into a building thanks to the off-vertical launch but it cleared it by a nanometer, rising up and away to where the MechWarrior’s chute could safely deploy even as the Firestarter itself smashed to the ground and shattered.
Turns out playing Mech games on the tops of buildings was dangerous.
“Five just burned the Whitworth; switch to thermals and let him have it!” Pappa-Four snarled over the company channel and the Shadow Hawk matched words to action as it unleashed everything other than its LRMs, joined by Pappas Six and Seven firing their own SRMs into the smoke, with the distinctive crackle of missile warheads going off above me.
Ah, so before being punched off the roof by the Archer it seemed the Firestarter had blasted the Whitworth with its flamethrowers. Heating its skin up enough to be seen clearly on thermals, even though the obscuring smoke...
That … was actually pretty ****** ninja. Perhaps the Avalon ****** weren't quite as useless as rumor would have it on Sark?
Focusing my attention back, I grit my teeth as Pappas Two and Three abandoned their rooftop positions as a barrage of LRMs came pouring down to plaster the places they had moved to. The indirect fire from the two DCMS Mechs had gone near straight up and down. And while that got past the range issues, it did telegraph the unguided attacks and give my people plenty of time to evade - back down to the ground as the only easy escape they could make on depleted jets until they could regenerate. That shifted the odds upstairs now to two against three - and in that window, the Whitworth made its move. Leaping out of the smoke and jumping South East across the gap to where Pappa-Four still squatted on a roof awkwardly, even as lasers lashed out at the Jenner and Javelin from the cloaked Archer in both directions, making them flinch behind air conditioning plants and communications towers. It looked like the Whitworth had taken more than a few SRM hits ... but at point blank range, the damn DCMS Mech could trade blows pretty evenly with the ‘Hawk and I was willing to bet that the Genyosha pilot was more than up to the task of nailing my second lance Leader in single combat.
However he had seemingly forgotten about (or perhaps not even seen) me down here on the street and as he leapt Southbound, he passed in a long arc that gave me about as good a shot as I was going to get.
My pulse laser lashed out with its trademark accuracy and tore into its rear torso, sending armor plates everywhere but it failed to penetrate the surprisingly heavy protection there. My chin lasers vexingly missed clearly, scathing harmlessly under it into the night sky but my arm lasers thankfully nailed its somewhat mangled right leg dead on, slicing into one of its blazing jump jets and popping it dead on.
To the full credit of the DCMS Mechwarrior he cut his thrusters at once, instantly abandoning his attempt to land on the roof on asymmetric thrust … to instead slam straight into the face of the building two stories under the roof.
Then he dropped.
To my astonishment, he simply slid down the face of the building, his arms slicing deep into it and ripping a seam open as he did, slowing his drop a little, but not enough-
Then, seemingly at the last second, he re-ignited his jets at full thrust and I realized in amazement that he was using his unorthodox grip on the building to adjust for the asymmetric thrust and make a hard -but entirely safe- landing.
Okay, that was incredible. Too bad this guy was fighting for the wrong team … and that he had landed right in front of me like that.
A split second later my two reinforced forearms smashed into him like a 75-Ton battering ram as I, having broken into an all out sprint forward as the Mech fell from the sky and identified his landing point, slammed my two heavily reinforced weapons pods into its back. The enemy Mech was promptly flung forward like I had hit it with a Goa’uld hand device into the lobby of the building in a shower of metal glass and concrete as my reinforced cowls crunched into the Battlemech and did bad things to whatever was inside - almost knocking me off my feet too and slamming my head against my seat painfully … but my claw like feet stabilized as they dug in and held me in place as the lobby got a new statue.
“You okay up there Four?” I called up as I kept my eye on the enemy, my guns cycling back up to ready as my heat normalized, just in case I needed them.
“Just a couple more scratches lead” he assured me cheerfully as sparks and smoke poured out of the rear torso of the enemy Mech in front of me, the MAGRES indicator attached to its HUD spiking then flatlining as its fusion reactor died, followed by an impressive puff of smoke pouring out.
That was good enough to call it a kill. And not gonna lie, there was something really satisfying about me thumping the shit out of one of these guys for once...
“Whitworth is down - keep on that Archer!” I ordered back on the command channel as I started to try and back out of the building, cursing under my breath as I realized I had sort of gotten tangled in the frame of the windows but with a little applied power I managed to rip my arm free (and winced as I tore out a good chunk of the front wall with it), partially collapsing the lobby of this building over the enemy Mech and half burying it as I hastily backed out. Whoops.
Ahead of me the Valkyrie of Pappa Three was coming around the Biomedical building back onto this main road as the sound of explosions and weapons fire grew more intense above. I checked my board then looked up on my ‘OVERHEAD’ wide FOV monitor on instinct as a hostile HUD indicator pointed to it-
“PAPPA THREE MOVE!” I yelled as my gaze snapped back to her-
The idiot hesitated.
It was the difference again between a cadet and a combat veteran I suppose. That split second of hesitation as you questioned an unexpected order rather than obeying it. Boot camps primary purpose was to hammer that attitude out of course, so simply act rather than think when an order was shouted like a civilian, you moved. So when someone shouted ‘TAKE COVER!’ you’d dive for the trench rather than stand up and look around for the threat and end up with your head blown off!
Morgan had done a great deal of work bashing that out of me because if you so much as blinked when working with him, you were hopelessly behind the eight ball.
Pappa Three clearly hadn’t been paying enough in boot then (or, as I suspected, boot on this planet was a far cry from the hell on Sark) because she stood there for at least two seconds, clearly looking around on her screens for the threat that was directly above her and only at the last second spotted it, all but leaping forward and even kicking in her jump jets at the same time in a desperate flying leap-
Too late.
The Archer didn’t hit her dead on, but 70 tons dropping near straight down into a DFA was a lot of mass and a lot of momentum that tore her legs open and pinned her in place - just in time for the falling Heavy Mech to blow up.
I reeled back from the shockwave as windows blew out up down left and right around me, thousands upon thousands of chunks of glass swirling like snow in the wind around me as I wrestled with my Gyro and, not for the first time this morning, praised the advanced Star League era neurohelmet that kept me upright even as I wondered if I had just lost the first person under my command. “Three, report status!”
There was some static then a slightly groggy voice came over the channel and I couldn’t help but close my eyes for a second and let a shuddering breath out in relief as her voice came through my headphones. Proving I hadn’t gotten anyone killed … yet. I think.
“I’m …” a cough or two “I’m okay. But my Mech is toast” she reported in I walked forward, carefully, into the smoke from the explosion and picked my way through the wreckage on the ground until I found what was left of her. The Valkyrie was at least nominally intact but looked to have been blasted forward a dozen meters with its feet torn off and its armored ‘skin’ flayed from it like House Bolton had dropped by. Beyond it in the middle of a pretty impressive crater, what was left of the Archer was a tangled wreck only barely recognizable as a Battlemech at all with spot fires all over the place and the buildings left and right of it bowled in modestly from the force of the detonation.
“Good to hear Three. If you can make it on foot, the nearest downstairs access point is-”
“-in the underground loop station three streets North of here, I can make it Sir” she cut in showing she was paying attention to her tactical map and standing orders. While most of the NAIS infantry were to the south helping grind down the main enemy force, there were patrols all through the underground campus with electronic surveillance active and any door being opened would have a fire team there quick smart to either pickup dismounted Mechwarriors and take them to safety or skin any snakes trying to slither their way underground.
“Correct. Get under cover as soon as you can'' I ordered before pushing past the wreck as her cockpit popped open, seeing all my timers were now at zero. “Everyone else, good work but we’re advancing to the park and going passive again.”
Lights flashed in acknowledgement and the indicators on the four other Battlemechs switched back to EMCON mode as I powered down my own active sensors once again. There was surely a chance that the Combine Mechs here had gotten off a signal that they were under attack, but with the blanket jamming and speed of our attack, perhaps, just perhaps...
Well I’d take all the hope I could get as we crossed the last few hundred meters now to the edge of the park at a brisk walk, feeling I was marching right into the eye of the storm.
And speaking of that, I reached over and flicked a very specific switch on my secondary systems board to the ON position. Just in case.
“Laser Mount One, offline. Laser Mount Two, offline. Reconfiguration in process, stand by…” Betty said as status and diagnostic data flowed along a secondary screen as I tried to fight my fear over what it would mean if I had to use this mode. Salome Ward had validated the technique in quiet testing with Dan Allard against Morgan and Patrick Kell on Summer over the last few weeks along with some other suggestions, so I wasn’t going in blind, but...
My EW board snapped me out of it as we approached the end of the road where it terminated in a wall of tall pine trees marking the edge of the park ... and as I shifted my attention to the board my tactical systems went crazy as they picked up contacts in every direction, weapons fire in every other direction and target locks all over the place as explosions and fireballs ascended into the sky up above the treeline along with the flashes of weapons fire and staccato crashing of explosions.
I’m not sure what I had been expecting really. I suppose in my head I had sort of expected to arrive at about the same time as everyone else and witness a final ham-to-ham combat exchange between Hanse and Yorinaga. A battle of words and a statement of intentions and all of that crap one normally expected in major Battletech events, followed by a cunning game of speed chess verbal sparring and a final showdown where the good guys of course, carry the day? Possibly including a gunship rescue...
Well either I was late, or, perhaps more realistically if my tactical boards were right, we had an all out brawl underway as Knight Company and Yorinaga’s Command Company had run into each other and let loose without bothering with any pleasantries.
Until today, this park had been a carefully preserved pocket of the woodlands NAIS had been built on which I had often enjoyed taking walks in on the days I had been at NAIS and between classes or meetings.
Now?
Now it was a war zone filled with contacts exchanging point blank broadsides while all but jousting as they spiraled around each other on my tactical map, shouldering smaller trees out of the way and ducking behind bigger ones as they raced around in a masterclass of confusion under the tall trees ducking in and out of clearings...
“****** me!” Pappa Four I think spoke for all of us as we took in the mess relayed to him via my communications system as we sort of halted at the end of the road, behind the wall of trees.
Although he sounded more impressed than fearful really and I didn’t know what to make of that.
“Form up” I ordered as crisply as I could through the sudden spike of terror that this was the pro league and I was strictly bush league but charging in anyway. “Two by two on my flanks, fifty meter spacing. We’re going straight in. Stick to me like glue and pivot on my moves. There’s smoke and ECM all over the place, so pick up your visual scanning and shoot what I shoot as much as possible - and for ****** sake if you get a visual on a Warhammer your targeting systems insist isn’t there, call it out! If I go down, Four has the command and don’t hesitate to use your speed if we mix it up. Everyone ready?”
Everyone said they were with crisp professionalism that made me wonder if the poor fools thought I actually had a damn clue what the ****** I was doing here. A couple of senior NCOs at Sark had given me the advice of ‘fake it till you make it’ for us soon-to-be Junior Officers when the time came to lead our first group of people and we realized we didn’t have the first clue. Because it was critical that everyone on the battlefield knew the Officer both had a plan and knew what they were doing.
Even when they didn’t.
Especially when they didn’t.
“Stay passive until I give the word, lets move out!” I called and lowered my centre of gravity slightly as I punched through the treeline with enormous cracks of ancient pines splintering, no doubt moving my name even further up the hit list the Botany Department was drawing up, forcing my way through into the more or less clear space on the far side I knew was there-
-and saw an Atlas blazing the red of a hostile unit in my HUD dead ahead, already at the close range that the AS7-D was rightly feared at. It was however also facing the wrong way and firing its LRMs into the air at someone downrange-
“Pop the Atlas!” I didn’t quite yell as I pulled my Alpha-Strike trigger the instant my crosshairs came into line with the enemy, without even waiting for a formal lock.
Both my PPCs, my chin lasers and the pulse laser discharged and heat poured into my cockpit as I pushed my cooling loop well past its limits, a warning siren howling in my ears that my Battlemech was recommending an immediate shutdown as green smoke - vaporized coolant I realized as my eyes watered, meaning I must have popped a heat sink that wasn’t showing on my damage board- hissed around my ‘Mech from breaches in my torso and blocked my visuals with the superheated mist for a few precious seconds...
I slapped the override, clenching my teeth against the scalding heat despite my coolant vests best efforts. Annoyingly, this damn Battlemech had come with an SLDF Mechwarrior Suit, but it had been several sizes too small for me so and some lucky shrimp in the Heavy Guards had called dibs. So I just tried to breathe through my nose like the training said to as my Mech shuddered to a halt and directed my attention at the enemy … and despite the incredible heat in my cockpit, I still felt ice pour into my veins as my visuals were restored.
The Atlas, like most Mechs and Tanks, had a heavy armor bias with the balance of protective metal focused on the frontal aspect. It let this thing shrug off insane amounts of firepower on the attack, but at the cost of its rear torso being far more lightly protected.
Of course, that was far more lightly protected by Assault Mech standards.
My hasty ‘from the hip’ firing without waiting for my fire control had connected, but my weapons had failed to concentrate with any effectiveness, scattering firepower across its broad back and arms. Oh half melted armor panels went flying in every direction leaving the back open … but I hadn’t damaged the combat capabilities of the Battlemech one bit.
And it then occurred to me that I was essentially immobilized and overheated at point blank range to an Assault Mech I had just tried - and failed! - to backstab. Just like that Raven in the ‘MechCommander’ intro who had been ordered to poke a Smoke Jaguar Timber Wolf in the back, had done so (under extreme protest) … and in the horrible silence afterwards, the Clan Omnimech had sort of twisted slightly on its torso to look at him … as if saying ‘Did you seriously just do that?’
So too now did the Atlas start to twist-
The ‘Oh crap’ moment passed a heartbeat later however as a barrage laser and autocannon fire and a veritable swarm of Short-Range missiles converged and tore through the weakened rear armor to detonate inside the bulk of the huge war machine.
I promised to never insult Avalon ****** again as the Atlas -heh- shrugged as its ammo bins started to chain - then yelped as a spiteful twin scarlet beam ripped out from the rear facing medium lasers I had forgotten about and slashed my center torso as the monster toppled to the ground, burning. ******!
Half of the armor plates in the only torso area of my Battlemech with any real armor protection were torn away in that moment, making the chances excellent that any serious hit to my front torso was going to punch right through what was left now.
Still, in exchange for taking down an AS7-D … I suppose it proved Elim Garak had been dead on about shooting people in the back as I had seen tonight several times; it really was the safest way!
You know, except for that Griffin, every kill I had made had been a team kill or what amounted to shooting an unsuspecting enemy in the back … and I really couldn’t be happier about that fact.
I wasn’t a Gods Damned Clanner after all.
-
I didn’t have time to gloat though as the rolling battle was pushing closer. In the night - combined with the smoke - visibility was pretty shit. But I could detect enough on passives and now was in range to pick up the broadcast tactical feed from Hanse that my Battle Computer was crunching things to suggest that the DCMS were pulling back and consolidating as the Knights pressed them. Both sides had lost several Mechs and firing was falling off now as the DCMS withdrew quickly through the trees and reformed while Hanse in turn reformed his own unit and pursued-
Then it happened.
A signal, in the clear without a clear point source from nearby activated almost on cue as all of the sudden the communications jamming stopped, and I swallowed through a dry mouth as I opened the channel being broadcasted and heard that voice.
“Lord Davion” Yorinaga's voice came clearly into my headphones as I tensed just a little as the limited exchanges of fire now stopped all together.
Ah, so NOW came the final ham-to-ham combat exchange between Hanse and Yorinaga.
****** this Mechwarrior cult bullshit-
“Lord Kurita” Hanse’s voice came back and I felt a strong urge to throttle the man for giving his position up as the last of the fire died off - no wait, okay, the smartass was actually routing his communications signal through his lancemates - and I was able to easily pick up the gun-camera feed from Hanse himself and flick it to my HUD; seeing the Battlemaster of Knight Three step forward. Still stupid of Hanse to confirm his presence here, but at least he wasn’t giving himself away directly by using a fanatically loyal Bodyguard as a stand in-
“Ah. You do not trust me enough to broadcast from your own Battlemech? Understandable I will admit, but I am afraid your skill - and especially the way you so casually yet perfectly brace your leg before firing your PPC without breaking stride, is both most impressive and quite distinctive” the Kuritan legend noted in an oddly apologetically amused tone as the Warhammer turned to face him. Directly.
God ****** damn it Hanse you ****** moron I silently cursed as I saw, after a moment, the Battlemaster of Knight Three fell back and Knight Leader stepped up, my hands clenching as I expected Kurita to give some signal and everyone to open up … but no-one fired.
Yet.
A glance at the secondary display still dedicated to Knight company showed Hanse had taken moderate to major armor damage, but his internals were all solid and from the wider TACMAP I could see it was … nine damaged DCMS Mechs against seven damaged AFFS Mechs - looked like two of the Battlemasters were down.
Well, ten enemy Mechs, this thing didn’t show Kuritas location after all.
Of course, in reality it was ten Snakes against twelve AFFS when you counted our Lance and on the whole if I was reading this right the enemy Mechs looked rather more beaten up and ours were generally heavier ...
Anyone’s game then, I supposed.
“And I, ironically, would be hard pressed to miss seeing an invisible Warhammer” Hanse replied easily. I swallowed now, clenching my controls as I felt the future standing on the edge of a knife, the cadets behind me silent as they too listened to the drama playing itself out.
On the plus side, I suppose this was buying more than ample time for my heat sinks to cycle and the heat in my cockpit to vent.
“You have come a very long way Yorinaga” Hanse continued, his voice level but hardly polite or friendly. “You have also killed a large number of my people and set back the recovery of the Inner Sphere from our forefathers insanity quite possibly by decades thanks to the damage you have done to the NAIS. Then all but goaded me out here on this little proxy for your two ‘great shames’. So, what exactly do you want?”
“To finish the story of course, Lord Davion” the other said, sounding disturbingly serene. “The final scene in the final chapter. Where I, slayer of a First Prince and first Kurita to invade the Throne World of the Federated Suns faces and slays his brother in turn, throwing the Federated Suns into chaos. Or, perhaps instead I will face you and fall, finding an honorable death at the hands of the greatest enemy the Dragon has ever known. On my feet and with my guns blazing as the Fox defends his den? This story has played out for some time Prince Davion, but when one comes to the last page … it is time to close out the book.”
“Jesus Christ this guy is full of himself” I muttered to myself, glancing around my boards looking for anything and everything to decide my next move. Both sides forces had frozen in place glaring at each other with Davion - and I presume Kurita - having edged a little into the open to be visible to each other. Any move I made risked setting off one or the other side…
I did however take a second to reactivate my long-range communication system and set it for relay mode, my command systems relaying my battle computers tactical picture to anyone who wanted it. Hopefully it would be picked up and relayed to Yvonne Davion who would hopefully take one look and tell Team Banzai to burn out their drives if necessary, but get their asses over here...
“You’ve truly learned nothing from Styx, have you?” Hanse finally observed with sheer contempt lacing his tone, sounding like he was genuinely insulted by the offer being put to him. “Or, from your ten years hiding in that cave? Because here you are, again, twisting a battle - a war even!- to serve your own personal ends. This obsession of yours, all from being denied my brother's body as a trophy … Yorinaga; it’s cost you everything. Your rank. Your command. Your honor as you see it. Your freedom. Your own wife and son for God's sake! Even if Akira stands beside you today, he doesn’t even bare your name anymore after you abandoned he and his mother to slavery, forced her to sacrifice her own life to protect your son from the consequences of your insanity … tell me Kuirta; has any of this been worth it?”
The … blunt … accusation hung in the air for a good five seconds of dead air that sounded like five years. I half expected Kurita to just leap forward all guns blazing, but it seemed he had more control than that.
“A question I have asked myself many times as I approached New Avalon I can assure you” Yorinaga answered after a time, his tone still horribly … serene. “And one that can finally be answered now that we are here-”
“I am not here for you Yorinaga” Hanse told him flatly with just an edge of scorn in it. “I am not here to give you a chance to replay the fight with my brother and I am certainly not intending to fights of decades past or indulge your dreams of a duel to the death.”
“Yet you are here” Kurita pointed out, sounding amused.
“I am here doing nothing more or less than my duty. Standing with my troops and protecting my world from invaders. Whoever they are. I am just as happy with dropping the air strike I have ready on your head as shooting you myself.”
“The code of a soldier, not a Warrior” Kurita said - and I narrowed my eyes slightly as the Warhammer bowed towards Hanse briefly. “I do respect this. Your honor may not be of the Combine Lord Davion ... but it is honor nonetheless that you have always been true to and I will salute you for it. As one soldier, to another, showing that I had indeed learned from Styx...”
The line went silent - but not dead … and no-one moved or did anything. I glanced around my boards as the timer kept ticking over for five seconds … ten seconds …
Oh, right!
Kurita, in a perfectly ironic echo of the blasting he had received from Morgan Kell, was now waiting for the Missile Boats he had stashed away to deliver their massive salvo of LRM fire directly to Hanse Davion’s face … and nothing was happening.
It was probably my lack of sleep, but I kind of felt bad that I had ruined his great final gesture and no-one knew it…
Yeah, it had to be my lack of sleep because almost before I realized what I was doing, I had pressed several buttons on my communications console and-
“I am afraid, Kurita-San, if that was supposed to be a signal to that lance of Missile Boats you had stashed to the North to open fire” I explained quickly, “invoking an ironic climax to this whole thing with a bit if a nod to Morgan and Patrick Kell showering you with LRMs on Styx? Well, um, I already kinda destroyed those Battlemechs. Sorry!”
-Then I realized I had just jumped into a private communication between the First Prince and his arch nemesis …
I’m pretty sure that was a bit of a faux pas on my part … and a few seconds later, Kurita spoke up.
“Ah-So?” he sighed, sounding … I couldn’t even pick the emotion and that couldn’t be good. “Then defend your world, Lord Davion” he said - and with a flash the two PPCs on the Warhammer lashed out at the Battlemaster and the image went to static as everyone opened fire.
******, here we go I thought as I closed the window switched back to my company channel.
“Pappa; to the Prince!” I snapped over the lance channel and I shoved my pedals to the metal, the Heavy Battlemech under me rearing and charging forward into the thicker tree lines as I switched back to night vision, my heart starting to race as everyone facing everyone fired everything with scant regard for heat sinks knowing that this was it.
It looked like Kuritas people had flung themselves at the Knights at the same instant Kurita had opened up and some ****** had let loose another salvo of those ****** smoke rounds into the melee, turning the night under the trees into a close ranged and confused brawl- oh and whatever ECM unit was here had flicked back on and was broadcasting ghost targets all over the place. While no doubt feeding corrections to its lance mates with its active probe like systems - but sharp orders from Jackson Davion ensured the Knights were unphased and throwing back everything they took - and then some … but they were undeniably tied down as the snakes sacrificed their lives to give Kurita the single most precious thing any military commander could want.
Time.
Time for their boss to claim his final head and justify his rather pathetic life…
Problem was, Hanse didn’t seem to be at all inclined to give it up to him.
Yorinaga had opened fire but as best I could tell from my relayed feed, he had missed the headshot as Hanse had exploded forward, swinging his two ERPPCs up in front of his face. Kuritas salvo had slagged the guns into uselessness, but Hanse clearly had no care for that and simply flung them clear of his hands in that strange Battlemaster way as he kept accelerating, Kurita realizing his mistake probably about the same time Hanse had smashed into him like an enraged Gods damned freight train.
He had unleashed his fists of fury with zero ****** given for Phantom Mech bullshit, forcing Kurita to rapidly backpedal as he desperately tried to defend himself … but he certainly couldn’t move backwards faster than Hasne could move forwards and under the minimum effective PPC range of his primary weapons, the Warhammer was at a massive disadvantage. Kurita had, to my delight, finally seemed to have bitten off more than he could chew because I’m sure that despite all his speech making, he didn’t expect to lose to someone who wasn’t his mystical equal and opposite. But the fact was brawling didn’t care about fire control systems and for all his skill, Hanse was also an Elite pilot … and one that despite his words a minute ago, I know still had a lot of anger to let out about a lot of things this guy had done to his family, friends and realm.
Lasers and SRMs stabbed out from the Warhammer but mostly went wide as Hanse tore into him with TSM fury, driving him North towards me, ripping great chunks out of Kurita despite the man's best attempts to fight back to the point that now one hand got a grip on the man's distinctive shoulder-SRM mount and tore it loose as Kurita staggered-
Then Akira struck.
I don’t know if he just couldn’t stand seeing his Father being ripped to pieces like this by his nemesis (honestly the damn kid was far too loyal to a man who had let he and his mother be sold into slavery without lifting a finger, simply because Takashi was miffed!) or if Yorinaga’s admission of using missile boats to ambush Hanse had been code for ‘honorable duels are suspended’. In either case, the Orion’s Autocannon, missiles and lasers tore into Hanse’s side and it was the Battlemaster now reeled as I burst into sight, watching in horror as its right arm was torn loose and flung off to smash into a tree in the middle of a swing that should have put Hanse’s right fist right through Yorinaga’s cockpit.
Worse, now horribly unbalanced with the muscles pushing harder than they should thanks to the increased strength fibers, the Assault Mech spun off center and flopped to the ground - and Yorinaga fired, shooting his lasers to slice into Hanse’s right leg and slag the exposed knee joint, disabling the entire limb and leaving him trapped flat on his ‘face’ on the ground at his feet.
My heart stopped for a beat. Hanse himself was still green according to my boards, but utterly helplessly immobilized-
“KILL THAT ORION!” I bellowed the order to the Mechwarriors with me and with a roar over their loudspeakers for some reason that sounded like ‘Avalon!’ (but was hair raisingly fearless and furious) they charged past me straight for Akira as we smashed through the treeline into sight of the enemy. Firing somewhat recklessly to draw Akiras attention they did the job well; Akira spinning around and stepping back from the battle with the First Prince as the lasers slashed across his side. Maneuvering at once to protect his father and buy him the time to finish his little fight, Pappa Two going red as the Blackjacks legs were torn open by precise autocannon fire from the Orions hip, but even as it flopped to the ground, the Mechwarrior in it impressed me greatly as she spun her arms on their wide-field mounts and tore into Akira from a prone position! Sending armor chunks flying everywhere even as the rest of the group charged in on foot and jet, firing as they came…
That was as much as I saw before trees came between us and I focused on my target, pressing and holding a very specific button on each of my control sticks and praying that this would work as well as Daniel Allard insisted it had in his reports to BB…
The medium laser on my left and right arms, the original Phototech 9X’s that the SLDF had built into it, now activated in their reconfigured mode. A little SLDF Royal Brigade trick; the mode change dialed down the power on the laser and reconfigured it so that instead of a short high-wattage burst of devastating energy, it would ‘shoot’ a continuous modulated beam that served as a high-powered, long range communications laser. Capable even of pinging low orbit dropships if necessary, at a good ten to twelve Megabits. It gave a useful and almost un-jammable communications uplink capacity with far longer range than the short-range tactical lasers built into almost all Battlemechs and combat vehicles. Just another ‘Optional Extra’ the Terran Hegemony had kept to itself although, surprisingly, I had found out that was actually one SLDF trick that had filtered ou and was quite common even today.
What it meant, right now however, was that in my night vision mode the two beams showed up as brilliant lines. Mounted sidecar to my ERPPCs and perfectly in line with them as I directed my arms manually, using the beams as guides as I shifted them until they were terminating clearly on the broad shoulders of Kuritas mech. It looked like he had built up quite a bit of heat with the air around him in the night vision blazing, clearly waiting for his heat to drop before finishing Hanse … or was he just gloating over his loudspeakers?
Don’t know, don’t care. In either case, to my sudden shock, a beep indicated the opening of a communications channel as Kurita accepted my handshake, it dawning upon me that I hadn’t actually told my systems not to do that as I, you know, pointed communications lasers at him…
“Come to watch your Lord's end, Mister Smith?” Kurita asked me almost mockingly.
Okay, the fact that he knew who I was, didn’t exactly make me happy.
But this was too good an opening not to take.
“Not quite Lord Kurita, I am here to warn you that the Line Developers back in Two Thousand and Nine formally de-canonized any magical or supernatural events in the Battletech universe.
There was a moment of dead air.
“...I am sorry?” he replied, sounding understandably confused -
“THE POWER OF CRAY COMPELS YOU!” I yelled, praying for him to turn as I let go of the buttons-
Possibly for the first time tonight, deliberately aimed weapons fire smashed into the Warhammer of Yorinaga Kurita as both my ERPPCS impacted, one ripping into his rear right torso, another into his left shoulder.
Okay, that felt incredibly satisfying.
But … to my immense frustration, he did not turn at my wild yelling as I had hoped, letting me fire into the massive damage Hanse had did. And a split second later his torso twisted like a striking cobra so fast it seemed to change orientation between blinks to point both its PPCs right at me barely two hundred meters away as it dawned on me that he had let me shoot first just in case I did hit him, then had taken his kill shot-
The particle beams that should have ended my life didn’t converge into my cockpit however, they seem to have been fired at a standard spread instead, slicing into my right and left torsos instead of converging on my head.
But that still wasn’t exactly good.
This time, my armor well and truly failed and with an absolutely deafening scream and squeal of abused metal my right arm tore loose and was flung off into the night, leaving a stump squirting green steaming coolant like a Mechs blood. My left arm didn’t rip free, but it dropped dead at my side as the power conduits in my left shoulder were slagged from the reactor couplings.
I didn’t notice at first though as I was too busy screaming in pain. Blue sparks flying around my cockpit for a moment and causing my muscles to spasm painfully - which in turn with my hands on the controls and my neurohelmet understandably confused, caused me to swerve and crash straight into an ancient, dignified pine tree planted way back in the days of the Terran Alliance.
Amazingly, the tree didn’t simply snap but flexed … sort of as I crashed to a stop. I was thrown against my straps harshly and almost blacked out as blood rushed around before just as suddenly I had stopped and I pushed through the pain to look over my damage board which was a lot more red then before and showing-
Oh no. Oh ****** no, COME ON!!!
Every one of my lasers was offline and I was showing some level of reactor shielding damage!
Forcing my gaze back to the critical fight still going on, I saw Kurita wrench his right leg out of the grip of Hanse’s Battlemaster and I realized the man had saved my life by grabbing and yanking the leg as Kurita had aimed and fired his shot. That had staggered Kurita backwards and looked to have wrecked the ankle, not quite immobilizing him, but coming terrifyingly close. The use of his PPCs again had clearly pushed him right to the limit of his heat curve given the smoke pouring out of his joints, but this wasn’t Nusakan and his sinks were still steadily pulling him back as he now aimed and blazed away with his machine guns (his lasers looked wrecked), Hanse flinging his hands up over his large cockpit to try and deflect the fire as behind me Akira still fought with three - no, ****** two of my Lancemates, I’d lost the Javalin too! As soon as Kuritas heat went down, he had Hanse cold.
Which left me only one option.
Kurita was barely a hundred meters away though … and while I wouldn’t be able to get up to more than thirty or forty KPH in that distance … there was an option to make the bang as big as possible….
“Sover...” I said - or tried to, I had to clear my throat and cough before trying again, noting I was coughing up blood for some reason but pushing it to the side. “Sovereign” I tried again, and the computer beeped. “Verify identity by voiceprint and neuro-scan. Arm self-destruct sequence Alpha on primary triggers.”
There was a soft beep and Betty spoke.
“Warning; auto-destruction sequence armed” she warned me and I nodded distantly as I grunted to pull air in through slightly winded lungs and squared my shoulders. Battlemech self-destructs were not something programmed into contemporary machines. Officially because the lower quality of fusion reactors built in this era had far more safety systems and construction were optimized for ruggedness over power, making them much harder to be forced into an overload.
Which was actually true. It was also true that they could STILL do it with some creative settings and hardware removal - as Kai Allard-Liao had proven in his legendary ‘Ah no no no, ****** you!’ of the Jade Falcons on Twycross, but the real truth (according to Morgan Hasek-Davion anyway) was that in the halls of power, there was little to no interest in making it easy to blow up Mechs deliberately or lose incredibly hard to replace fusion reactors lightly.
Mechs were valuable, MechWarrior’s … less so.
There was an unwritten but real agreement on all sides of the Succession Wars that it was far better for everyone involved if Battlemechs did not blow up if at all possible and thus could either be salvaged back and forth, or, held for ransom back to the other side for cold hard cash in the case of family owned machines. And giving MechWarrior’s the option to blow them up casually was thus not in anyone's interest as, after all, you could always just pull your damn sidearm and blow your head out if you didn’t want to risk capture against a foe.
Luckily, the SLDF who had built my Battlemech had a rather more practical mindset about these things (and especially about keeping Royal Command technology out of the hands of the ‘lesser’ Houses) and as Kuritas heat was dropping steadily to where he would be able to risk one last strike that would probably cook him alive and blow his ammo, but take Davion with him, I knew I had to act.
With a sudden final shove far riskier than my previous attempts to get up that one last time had my gyro scream in protest, my Mech which had been playing disabled suddenly wrenched itself up drunkenly and started to pound its way straight in at the Warhammer.
Missiles ripped into my rear torso as Akira, who had clearly been keeping an eye in my direction despite having Pappa Four busily trying very hard to punch him to the ground, sprayed a salvo at me, but I trusted in my more or less untouched rear armor to take one hit - and even though I staggered and the last of my armor went red, it held as his LRMs scattered and I closed in and squeezed - and held very tightly!- all of my triggers.
Immediately, a booming, intimidating voice came out of my external speakers at full volume and my cockpit fell to a hellish red glare - oh yeah, I had forgotten about that code I had put in -
“YOU HAVE FAILED!” Sovereign thundered as with a screaming hissing my reactor pushed into a state of overload, more and more power building up in the inner torus as I thundered right for Kurita, the Mech turning its torso again sharply towards me without letting go of the machine gun triggers and spraying light shells into my torso … that smashed already smashed components and did absolutely nothing to slow me down.
Zombie Mech, bitch! I thought gleefully as, with his ankle mauled by Hanse Kurita found himself unable to move as heat started to build to unbearable levels and I engaged my autopilot, then let go of my triggers as I dead reckoned the timing-
“WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY. RELEASING CONTROL.”
Technically that was Harbinger of course, not Sovereign, but I don’t think either Reaper would have minded the shout out.
My cockpit canopy exploded and the ejection seat under me was blasted into the sky with a screaming roar. I’m pretty sure I had passed out for a second there though as seemingly between blinks I went from the explosive bolts flinging my cockpit away to looking down on the forest and buildings beyond it as I ascended into the smoke on a 12G rocket of ****** your spine-
And then for a split second all the buildings I could see ahead of me went white and dazzled me. It was like a giant camera flash had just been used and there was a loud crraackkkkk and roaring even as the ground under me got increasingly indistinct through the smoke.
Then the seat stopped trying to drive my ass into my spine and up into my skull and for a few seconds it was like a glorious weightlessness that let me take a deep breath as I was flung clear of it-
-then with a new jerk that forced my ass back out of my head, the air out of my lungs and all my blood into my feet, the ‘chute’ snapped open above me and I was swinging through the smoke filled air and really hoping that Akira wasn’t going to take a shot at me for that whole ‘crash tackling his father away from Hanse and detonating a fusion reactor on top of him' thing.
The wind was stronger than I thought and I was drifting away from the combat zone, but turning and getting a hell of a view of the parklands as I did. Then with a roar and painfully bright flash that made me wince and remember my eyes were no longer protected behind armored glass, a pair of Victors descended through the sky on blazing fusion thrusters, dropping right into the middle of the mess. Painted in the black with silver highlights of Team Banzai and with a whole gaggle of lighter Mechs in the same colour sceheme dropping behind them I was finally forced to look away as a Union smashed through the smoke, making a hard full thrust landing on the very Northern edge of the park-
What was going to be a textbook perfect touchdown instead became the mother of all wedgies as the urban canyon I was dropping into channeled the massive gust of hot air caused by three and a half thousand tons of fusion torch blasting air displacement right into my chute, yanking me forward before catching and snagging on a a convenient streetlight, my straps swinging me like a pendulum around to slap me full body straight into the face of a building before I could do anything about it.
Everything in my chest hurt now.
I recoiled from the impact and sort of stabilized hanging from the light pole rather stunned - then the ‘chute slipped clear off the light pole and I was dropped unceremoniously the three meters to the ground, feeling my right ankle give way in a way they shouldn’t before I fell face first to the ground ... and everything went blessedly dark.
-
It was incredibly climatic, but Hanse will get a royal shoutdown from both Melissa and Yvonne for not ordering airstrike on Yorinaga once he was in the Mallory park, waltzing into the trap instead..
The Archer didn’t hit her dead on, but 70 tons dropping near straight down into a DFA was a lot of mass and a lot of momentum
Since I reckon this was either 2R or 2K it would mean that Kuritan MechWarior was doing this without the benefit of jj course correction. Probably desperation at seing lancemates wiped out in a matter of minutes for little to no return.
The Valkyrie was at least nominally intact but looked to have been blasted forward a dozen meters with its feet torn off and its armored ‘skin’ flayed from it like House Bolton had dropped by.
And thanks to him people now understand this reference.
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Another enjoyable chapter!
I am still wading through the sea of responses on SB. I agree that Smith is generally due for a round of medals and a brand new BattleMech. He may get to pick, or he may get assigned something. I'm expecting something in the heavy-to-fast-assault range, possibly with jumpjets. A new production Highlander might not be a bad choice, as someone pointed out.
Re: shipping, these close-to-graduating cadets are in the 18-to-20ish age bracket, and Smith is in his mid-30s. As someone in that age range, a 20 year old would simply seem too young... plus I think he might prefer someone who isn't due to have 5 years of "deployed somewhere else" military service to marry and have kids with. I'd look for someone who's completed her service, or is in a non-forward deployment role...maybe intel, logistics, med/sci, or a minor noble or something. I know Riva Allard's name has been thrown around a few times.
Chris has stayed away from any romantic entanglements in this story, so it's also possible that he just doesn't want to get bogged down writing romance in his Big Stompy Mechs Stomping More story.
I expect some named characters (Banzai-related, mostly) to have died, simply based on the total # of casualties. This battle will be one for the textbooks at the military academies. Everything's going to get broken down into great detail.
A few days from now, there's going to be one heck of a party. Smith should be mobile by that point (crutches or wheelchair depending).
Lots of rebuilding for NAIS, and Hanse now has an excuse to "For the good of mankind, and that the light of knowledge shall not be extinguished and plunge us into barbarism," open 2-3 off-world NAIS branches duplicating most of the major research tracks and educating still more students. Security will be a bit more challenging, but the case has now been definitively made that a single research institution is a single point of failure.
One thing I do not recall having seen discussed in-story: Has the F-C held discussions with the Wolf Dragoons about a trip to their periphery cache point? If I recall correctly, there are a few warships there (what did the Dragoons do with those crews?), plus some jumpships and some mothballed BattleMechs that were too advanced to bring into the IS. The WarShips should remain a secret, but can be used to hunt down Tortuga and other pirate havens with prejudice, while giving the FC a trump card against future threats.
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and use to rebuild FC fleet. but i like the part that the Fed Com would have access to Clan Tech through WD.
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and a brand new BattleMech
You broke an irreplacable Royal Marauder, here is your replacement Stinger.
Jokes aside, I reckon all the Helm cache mechs are either asigned to units or research centers, so he will probably be issued factory new mech, with some upgrades from Helm cache material, as factory new Lvl.2 mechs are years away.
There is another option though. Kell Hounds came into possesion of Star League Orion recently, with most of the advanced tech present. Trollisa just might give a call to Kell brothers and try to convince them to part with this trophy, that Snord must be salivating for, due to mech's first owner, about whom Smith has such a high opinion.
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Lots of rebuilding for NAIS, and Hanse now has an excuse to "For the good of mankind, and that the light of knowledge shall not be extinguished and plunge us into barbarism," open 2-3 off-world NAIS branches duplicating most of the major research tracks and educating still more students. Security will be a bit more challenging, but the case has now been definitively made that a single research institution is a single point of failure.
There will definitly be some of this - Katrina and Hanse are both eager to replicate much of the NAIS into the Lyran Commonwealth (Smith suggested it be put on Tharkad and called the Tharkad Institute of Technology and Science just so he can use say use the words 'Katrina's tits' in a conversation but was shot down by Hanse who decided he had too much to live for) and *that* will be happening on Donegal. Although it'll be 3035-3040 before the campus is ready to open. There will also be a number of 'black sites' quietly opened inside the Federated Suns which will be dedicated to R&D work trying to reverse engineer samples of the Helm technology. With very real samples of Star League weapons and technology ... which of course are all diversions to make everyone think that the Federated Suns has the helm technology but nothing else and needs to R&D it the hard way, which gives ComStar a target to disrupt. And MIIO to welcome ROM strike teams into.
All the while at the NAIS the *real* work of building the Star League machine tools factories and setting up production lines quietly in the Suns and Commonwealth at carefully chosen places ramps up steadily as they follow the Helm cores guide on how to build the tools to build the factories to build the tools ... and come 3035 or so? Then, things start to get ... interesting.
One thing I do not recall having seen discussed in-story: Has the F-C held discussions with the Wolf Dragoons about a trip to their periphery cache point? If I recall correctly, there are a few warships there (what did the Dragoons do with those crews?), plus some jumpships and some mothballed BattleMechs that were too advanced to bring into the IS. The WarShips should remain a secret, but can be used to hunt down Tortuga and other pirate havens with prejudice, while giving the FC a trump card against future threats.
Its on the list for post war by the Dragoons for sure and the Warships will be moved to an uninhabited system in the Crucis March. As for their crews? My presumption is that they were more or less absorbed into the Dragoons starship and dropship fleets. Allowing a rotation of personnel with excess capacity.
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It would be funny is someone paints "student driver" on any new mech or tank that Smith might get.
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Some serious studies on the use of ECM mechs and ways to defeat then is guaranteed - after all Yorinaga use then very well.
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Great chapter. A wonderful read. Thanks!
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Excellent work chris. Thank you.
Great character work and action sequences.
Can’t wait for more.
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Nicely done. :thumbsup: Loving the battle scenes, and Smith's commentary on things.
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Oh my God, just drop the quill, mike or whatever for this chapter Chris, your are done and we are blown away!!!! AWESOME!!!!!!!
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It would be funny is someone paints "student driver" on any new mech or tank that Smith might get.
I doubt it would be a tank though. Even if TPTB don't gift him with another top end mech there's at least that Dragon that headcapped itself on his pulse lasers.
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Smith could always use Akira's Orion 😝
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I wonder if there is enough left of Yorinaga's Warhammer to rebuild for Smith to pilot. >:D
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as factory new Lvl.2 mechs are years away.
They're making WLF-2 now. Which aren't the biggest investment of L2 (Just 10 DHS and the ER large) but at least the sinks are new production.
You can do a lot with just DHS. Heat-hogs like Pheonix Hawks become alpha-boats. Replace autocannons with all the lasers and not melt yourself.
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One 'Mech that benefits a lot from DHS is the classic Archer.
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The following Omake has been deemed canonical by Chris O'Farrell:
The cockpit had cooled as she watched the street and waited for the DCMS to come at them again.
If there was a way out, Michelle Stengovich was sure she and the other cadets would have just kept running.
The day before they’d been so proud of being chosen to face the expected attack. Of being treated as if they were one step closer to the coveted accolade of Mechwarrior, of the envious looks from classmates and under-classmen who were being evacuated. Convinced that they’d avenge the Sakhara cadets that these same Combine warriors had torn apart.
Everything she’d been taught, particularly the parts she hadn’t really believed…
It was true. Battle, real battle did change everything.
Because until now, she’d only ever thought she was afraid. Now…
Now she knew.
And it shamed…
The sudden pulse of data across her HUD dragged the NAIS cadet out of her funk. A ‘Mech was moving. Out of sight, so far, but her family’s Blackjack had excellent sensors, better than average. Not as good as some of the things she’d heard whispered about, but enough that her father’s tales had more than once hinged on those extra seconds of warning.
“Here they come again,” she breathed, knowing that what was left of Rumble Battalion could hear her. She tried not to let her fear show, tried to sound confident. “Can anyone see it?”
“It’s the Marauder,” James Bixby reported from his Firestarter.
Michelle nodded, then remembered that of course, he couldn’t see her. Stupid. What was she thinking?
Davud Kudo spoke up before she could rectify her mistake. “And the others?”
“I… I don’t think so.”
She could hear… practically feel… the other cadets shifting. Her fingers were tight around the control sticks. Too tight.
The shadowy shape was in sight, emerging from the smoke like a ghost. Long limbed, arms like clubs, a long barrel rising up like a scorpion’s tail.
The Marauder.
In the darkness she couldn’t make out markings with her eyes, but the Blackjack told her what she needed to know, not caring one whit for the frailties of the successor to its long tradition of Stengovich pilots. The heavy ‘Mech was damaged, plates of armor on either flank had been ruptured.
If there was any chance, any chance at all of taking on (she didn’t dare even hope to take it out) the ‘mech that was half-again the size of the largest of their little force, then Michelle couldn’t let that weakness go to waste.
The targeting reticle seemed to drift lazily across the HUD as her heart thundered. The Marauder was moving fast… too fast, and she was too slow.
But finally it reached the rents to the right of the cockpit and Michelle’s fingers closed just that tiniest degree, not shaking the stick with over reaction but using just enough force to trigger her autocannon.
The streamers of tracer hurtled down-range, almost surprising her. But she hadn’t taken her target by surprise and the Marauder snapped around instantly, the Mechwarrior inside reacting on what she could only guess were long-honed reflexes and dropped his right shoulder, the light rounds of the Blackjack’s twin autocannon gouging at intact plates.
Michelle was still cursing herself for missing as the Marauder’s weapons shifted with deadly intent. She was dead!
But… it didn’t fire. Two PPCs, two lasers and… huh, that wasn’t an autocannon up top. But the bolts of coherent light and the particle beams that she thought would tear through her battered armor didn’t came.
What lashed at her instead was a man’s voice: “Hold your fire, cadet!” He was loud, he was angry… and he was on the general tactical frequency? “I’m friendly!”
Michelle had to reach aside to switch her transmitter to the tactical frequency – the Blackjack’s comms hadn’t lasted the centuries as well as it’s sensors. She swallowed as she did so. Had she… she hadn’t interrogated the Marauder’s transponder. She’d…
When you assume, it makes an ass out of you and me, the grating voice of an instructor savaged at what was left of her self-esteem.
“Identify,” she managed, somehow unable to manage more than that. At least, she thought distantly she didn’t sound as if she was on the brink of crying. Before putting her hand back on the control stick she pinged the ‘Mech and the HUD lit up with data.
“This is Knight Twelve, First Prince’s Company.”
The data matched. She’d fired on a friendly. She was a coward and an incompetent.
Taking a deep breath, off mike, Michelle brought the Blackjack’s arms down slowly and stood it. At least she could face her sins with dignity. No use making excuses. She’d blown it, and she was lucky she hadn’t killed the officer in the Marauder.
HA! Killed him? Who are you now? A mocking voice seemed to be on her shoulder. ‘The next Natasha Kerensky?’ You weren’t even the slightest threat to him – if he hadn’t had the mercy to check his target the way you should have, he’d have torn you and your family’s ‘Mech apart. He moves that thing like it’s twenty tons lighter than it actually is.
“Oh,” she said when she was sure she would finish saying the words. “Apologies, sir. There was an enemy Marauder down there and -” The excuse came to her lips and she hated herself for it. She knew better than this.
Fortunately, the man didn’t seem interested in hearing her disgrace herself. “We killed it and the lance it was with,” he cut her off, moving the Marauder closer. The rest of the lance moved forwards tentatively, perhaps only half believing that this was a friendly ‘Mech, the first they’d seen since the shooting died down. “I need a SITREP. Who is in charge here?”
She paused and swallowed, taking the brief opportunity to try to keep calm. Report. She could report, couldn’t she? “No one, sir.” Certainly not her. “We – our six ‘Mechs – are the only ones who made it this far, to my knowledge, out of Rumble and we have no officers left, sir.”
“Very well.” He was startlingly calm, she thought. “How did you all end up here?”
That question dragged her back into the hell of those moments. She was grateful that Davud took the moment to speak up, to recount Doctor Banzai’s shouted orders, the scramble to get away, the sudden barrage of missiles that had blotted out two ‘Mechs almost between heartbeats, killing their Mechwarriors before they had the slightest chance of ejecting.
Davud started to falter as he reached the point where they’d fled into what turned out to be a trap, a cul-de-sac that they were surrounded by with no way out but back into the teeth of the heavy lance that had pinned them here. “I... I thought we were finished. I know we should have tried to counterattack Sir, but -”
“No.” The officer’s disagreement was a startling surprise. There was something odd about his accent, Michelle couldn’t place it. Not a New Avalon native, certainly. “Holding in cover was absolutely the right call, cadet - you people did good.”
What? Michelle blinked. Had she.., had she heard that? They’d broken, run and hid from the battle. And he was PRAISING that decision?
“If nothing else, you’re staying alive pinned a full enemy unit in place keeping you contained and out of the battle.” Then his voice sharpened. “Cadets, you said that Lieutenant Hall was destroyed by missile fire... from the north?”
Miguel Raji answered from his Jenner. “Affirmative, sir. From about a block north of here.” That was more of an estimation than Michelle had felt confident making. But now that she thought about it, not just reacting… yes, that sounded possible. Her ‘Mechs sensors hadn’t picked up the ‘Mechs up but from the range and angle. “They were shooting high-low with indirect LRM fire - damn accurate fire too. We never saw the ‘Mechs, but the volume was incredible, it blew Lieutenant Hall to pieces but a minute after we got in cover, the missiles stopped coming. We couldn’t really tell what was going on through that jamming and the fire coming in from the east keeping us pinned, but I saw seismic shifts that might have been them moving off to the west?”
The tentative question hung in the air for a long moment, then the officer audibly changed the channel sharply, cutting them off.
Crap. Miguel had done well, Michelle thought. He’d picked up more detail than she had out of that mess. But they had obviously fallen short of whatever credit they’d been given for holing up here, something that presumably made sense in whatever understanding of the battle the Marauder mechwarrior had.
How could anyone keep this chaos straight?
She shook herself. Experience, probably. God knows how much action the older mechwarrior must have had. It was hard to guess age from a voice, but he was obviously far removed from the… the fumbling performance that they’d managed.
“Sir?” James asked plaintively, when the silence grew too much. “We’re ready to move out for the CMS rally.”
That had been the last orders, hadn’t they? And it made sense. Get back somewhere the ‘Mechs could be reloaded… where they could regroup.
The older man re-entered the channel, mercifully not reprimanding James for pestering an officer who clearly had more important things to do than to pat them on the heads and reassure them. “Cadets,” he said, voice lower than before… more purposeful. “Lowest to highest, give me your combat states.”
The familiarity of that demand gave Michelle a sense of normality. Of course! There might be other Combine stragglers, he’d want to know what state the little group was in before taking them through the wartorn streets of their campus. “Rumble-14,” she managed, looking at the displays. “Armor state six, fifty percent ammo remaining.”
She heard the others chiming in and somehow the recounting was reassuring. They all had armor, still. Enough for a few hits, at least. Ammo to fight back with. Sure, they were mostly lights, but… The ‘Mechs were holding up. Better than the Mechwarriors had.
“Cadets, I know your last orders were to get to the rally point, but we have a situation.”
Michelle stiffened. Situation?
“Prince Davion is heading for Mallory Park in pursuit of the enemy CO, Yorinaga Kurita. Odds are about even, but those LRM boats that blasted you? I’m pretty sure he is sneaking them into the northern side of the park to make sure this fight ends with the First Prince blown to pieces as soon as he’s in position.”
“The Swordsworn are tied up finishing off the rest of the enemy force,” the officer continued, voice steady. Trying not to alarm them even though his words were hardly reassuring? “They won’t be in a position to help until this is over, one way or the other. Our heavy reinforcements won’t get here in time either which makes us the only force that might be able to find and flush this ambush before its sprung.”
The man paused and when he spoke again, everything he seemed to have been holding back spilled out: “People; this is the turning point. This the focus of this entire campaign. Right here, right now. Yorinaga Kurita has fought his way across the Federated Suns sacrificing everything for this singular moment in history. Perhaps the most singularly deadly Mechwarrior in the entire Inner Sphere and one of the Combine’s greatest regimental leaders in command of a fanatical bodyguard who will do whatever it takes to help him complete his mission is waiting for our Prince to walk into his trap right now, I shit you not!”
A cold chill went down her spine. Hanse Davion, the First Prince… She knew he was out there, of course - and this was one of the Prince’s own company. But… he was going to face Yorinaga Kurita. The man who’d killed Prince Ian? Back when Michelle was just a child? Where else could he go… and the damned snake was using the Prince’s own honour to draw him into a trap!
Her ‘Mech seemed to shift beneath her. The old, faithful Blackjack that had carried so many of her ancestors to fight for House Davion. It was ready, it was responding to the call for battle.
But… could she…?
Dare she?
“None of you are Guardsmen. Hell, I don’t even technically have the command authority to order you to do a damn thing. But...”
The Mechwarrior in the Marauder paused. “I’m asking anyway.”
“The liege we swore our oaths to is in mortal danger and the future of the entire Inner Sphere is going to pivot entirely based upon what we do in the next ten minutes. I’m going in - but that’s my job.” It was, Michelle thought with a wry cynicism that surprised her, very clearly more than just his job. Hanse Davion was obviously more than his superior: but who else would the First Prince have recruited for his company on a night like this than trusted friends. “It’s not a job for cadets - and no-one from Hanse on down would deny you have all done your duty. So... well, I’m just going to leave it at that. You can head for the CMS now - the path should be clear if you just head East for a bit - and follow your orders. Or, you can come with me.”
The offer, the request… the plea… hung in the air.
“But understand if you come with me, you’re no longer cadets. Come with me and you’re coming because you’ve made a choice... as MechWarriors.”
Mechwarriors.
What we came here be. What we were raised to be, what we were trained to be.
What, Michelle thought, I failed to be. But… maybe what I can be. If I try again.
She wasn’t the first to speak. Justin Taylor – poor Justin who’d had far too many jokes at sharing a name with the infamous traitor – spoke fastest and proudest of them all: “Rumble-15, good to go Sir!”
The others were a tangle after him and Michelle could practically see their ‘Mechs straighten as they welcomed the mission, the purpose.
The chance to take hold of their fates and be more than frightened children in a battle they didn’t understand.
“Rumble-14,” Michelle Stengovich said with a determination that she would have never have imagined, when the Marauder first loped out of the smoke. “Ready.”
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From a certain perspective he didn’t graduate as a Mechwarrior alone. He led a half company (Pappa) of cadets through graduation to full Mechwarrior status.
They weren’t from his original academy but they did join up with him as Pappa company.
I’m sure Chris will have some sort of awards / graduation ceremony planned.
Great addition drak
My only problem with the storey is that I’ve read it a few times and reread the whole thing from start and now I have to wait for chris to post more. Damn readers reading faster than writers write.
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Nice work, Drac. By the way, still waiting for YOUR next project.
My only problem with the storey is that I’ve read it a few times and reread the whole thing from start and now I have to wait for chris to post more. Damn readers reading faster than writers write.
Tell me about it - I found the new chapter at1:30 at night, it was after 2 before I finished the story and caught up with the comments on SB.
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Definitely glad to see this return. And great addition Drak!
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I can see Smith getting command of Pappas Lance...
TT
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I lean more to the notion this is Smith's cutoff for being an active mechwarrior and transferring back to some nameless desk after being added to the nobility.
I keep hoping he gets promoted to command of the periphery and March and the story continuing, but that's me.
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That was a nailbiting update.
I think when he wakes up he will have Kym, Yvonne and Melissa all staring down at him with coldness.
Then it will begin with how he could abandon Hanse, running off on his own, taking illegaly command of cadets (insubordination, right?), adressing them as mechwarriors and last but not least blowing up his own mech.
And of course threatening him with a court martial.
And then Morgan will push a wheelchair with a grinning Hanse into his point of view who clears him of all charges and all will have a grin on their faces.
And for the humor part:
Can you imagine that Smith would be a Jane Smith? Then it wouldnt be Papa lance, but Mommy lance.
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Smith's first sight when he wakes up will be the medic who just administered the stimulant asking him if he can feel his legs and to rate his pain for triage. He'll get the good painkillers shortly after, but first they'll want to know on a scale of one to ten, how bad the pain is and *where* it is.
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:thumbsup: :clap: :beer: :rockon:
Thank you for more of Mr. Smith wonderful trip
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Amazing update :)
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You know, I doubt Smith will be leading combat teams after this. Bad luck, those grooving on the "adventures of Pappa company".
I reckon Hanse sent Smith to Sakahara so he could get the necessary "cult of the 'Mechwarrior" chops, and to erase the "REMF" stench. Well, consider this done. Well and truly. Ain't no-one going to disagree because he's a greenhorn nebbish no more.
No, reckon there's a better use for Smith. Operation Shroud-Ripper. Yup, the pre-emptive destruction of the Word of Blake, before it surfaces (CornStar is just enjoyable collateral damage.)
And you think Helm was a prize? How about the Hidden Worlds? We know they know about the Ruins of Gabriel ...
W.
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You know, I doubt Smith will be leading combat teams after this. Bad luck, those grooving on the "adventures of Pappa company".
I reckon Hanse sent Smith to Sakahara so he could get the necessary "cult of the 'Mechwarrior" chops, and to erase the "REMF" stench. Well, consider this done. Well and truly. Ain't no-one going to disagree because he's a greenhorn nebbish no more.
No, reckon there's a better use for Smith. Operation Shroud-Ripper. Yup, the pre-emptive destruction of the Word of Blake, before it surfaces (CornStar is just enjoyable collateral damage.)
And you think Helm was a prize? How about the Hidden Worlds? We know they know about the Ruins of Gabriel ...
W.
I wonder if he had a copy of the MekHQ suite of programs on what went to the BT universe with him. The Hidden Worlds are on the MekHQ map... at least the coordinates should be close enough to find the right star.
For that matter, if Helm had SLDF star maps, from before ComStar made their changes, and somewhere in Smith´s materials there are the original names of the Hidden Worlds (or he remembers them), that could be enough to find them...
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I wonder if he had a copy of the MekHQ suite of programs on what went to the BT universe with him. The Hidden Worlds are on the MekHQ map... at least the coordinates should be close enough to find the right star.
For that matter, if Helm had SLDF star maps, from before ComStar made their changes, and somewhere in Smith´s materials there are the original names of the Hidden Worlds (or he remembers them), that could be enough to find them...
But do you raid them, invade them or just organise massive orbital bombardment with meteor/comet projectiles from deep space?
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John’s shocks, ejection and loss of consciousness enable chris to inject an additional round of clarity or an update patch. Anything that chris May have forgotten or that was just recently added after the initial story started. Hbs game. bull shark. Dobrev. Camelot command. Hidden worlds. Luyten and Ross stations. ComStar warship recovery sites. Niops nighthawks. Additional wob details etc. Can be added in as a memory while John is as out.
Either way. I eagerly look forward to the next instalment.
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About the HBS game - Chris reported that Smith 'departed' while the game is still in kickstart phase - so, no more updates from that front.
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But do you raid them, invade them or just organise massive orbital bombardment with meteor/comet projectiles from deep space?
Depends on the world. The Ruins of Gabriel are a fleet base, right? That would be worth capturing, and since it´s within FC territory, they could actually keep it. The others - the cybernetics center, the bioweapons research - are better off nuked to hell and back.
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Nice work, Drac. By the way, still waiting for YOUR next project.
Thanks.
Well, no promises. I have something in planning but many a project has failed to get past that step.
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@drakensis: you could alway continue one of your older tales like StotU, B&B, D&D or Centurion ;D
Less initial planning that way.
Also "Victorian Age" or "Along Came a Spider" come to mind.
Personally, I am rooting for "Centurion": whenever I re-reading that one I running my Motörhead playlist ...
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My plans for this is almost done, but I don't know how realistic it really is.
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@drakensis: you could alway continue one of your older tales like StotU, B&B, D&D or Centurion ;D
Less initial planning that way.
Also "Victorian Age" or "Along Came a Spider" come to mind.
Not Along Came a Spider. He finished that one and any sequel would have to break everything that made the denouement satisfying.
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@drakensis: you could alway continue one of your older tales like StotU, B&B, D&D or Centurion ;D
Less initial planning that way.
Also "Victorian Age" or "Along Came a Spider" come to mind.
Personally, I am rooting for "Centurion": whenever I re-reading that one I running my Motörhead playlist ...
We're getting a bit off topic here but I suppose there isn't a 'What Drakensis oughta finish thread'.
I will merely comment that you didn't mention one of my other unfinished BT fics...
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We're getting a bit off topic here but I suppose there isn't a 'What Drakensis oughta finish thread'.
VICTORIAN AGE!!!!!111oneone
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We're getting a bit off topic here but I suppose there isn't a 'What Drakensis oughta finish thread'.
I will merely comment that you didn't mention one of my other unfinished BT fics...
What about Star Adder Symphony?
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Okay, a few qualifiers. No, its not my thread. If Drakensis can do it, so can I! It was fun - easy for me to write, and at 3 pages, the right length, too. Feel free to ignore it. And I can always delete it if Chris doesn't approve. Win - Win!
GOLDEN PEBBLES
Sitting in one of the dozens of comfortable offices in the Palace of the Federated Suns, Melissa was unhappy with the state of things as she considered the reams of reports littering the top of the broad conference table, roughly sorted into categories; Urgent, Secret, and the smallest of all, Personal. Days had passed since the DEST assault, and the damage to the working areas occupied by the fanatic troops was nearly repaired, but she had chosen one of the smaller, unoccupied spares far enough from the repair work to provide peace and quiet with enough space to organize herself for the task ahead of her.
The décor of the tastefully wood-paneled room was similar to her husband’s day office, with raised platforms placing subtle emphasis on the large conference table with the practical wheeled office chairs and smooth hardwood flooring she preferred. A small kitchen laid out in bright white tile flooring and cabinets offset the lounge area with its ubiquitous dark leather furniture and low tables, the en suite bathroom serving both the office and adjoining suite for important guests working in the palace.
But no hidden servant’s passages, she thought dryly. A less scandalous method for her morning commute, certainly.
Placing her hands on the small swell of her belly and beginning to rub gently as she began to swing back and forth on her chair idly, she considered her own response to the situation. Military retribution, she knew, was in the capable hands of Hanse and her mother, preparing to bring the 4th War to a successful conclusion with the recapture of the Commonwealth’s lost worlds and the landslide victory over House Liao. Her own contribution would be overshadowed by the victories yet to be won, if LACTIC lived up to its expectations.
Beginning to swivel more violently, she brought her hands back to the armrests and narrowed her eyes in thought. Up to this point, her claim to an equal partnership with her new husband had been conditional on her brood mare status, carrying the heir to the Steiner and Davion dynasties. And that, in her opinion, has to end, the sooner the better.
Yorinaga Kurita had dared to attack her family, her friends, and she knew the arrogant son-of-a-bitch had never even considered the risk of infuriating the future Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth. If she was to ever show her independence and inspire the pride of her subjects, both old and new, then she would have to deliver a stinging reprisal of her own.
Getting up and grabbing her mug from its place to walk on sock feet to the small but well-stocked kitchen for the morning’s second cup of her favorite hot chocolate – coffee had been politely but firmly denied by the horde of pediatricians - she stopped to lean against the wall and sip her drink as she considered the table again. House Steiner traditionally trained its heirs in both the military and economic tradition of the most industrialized nation in the Inner Sphere. In wide-ranging conversations with her mother, Hanse, and Arden, Hanse and Arden had shown a willingness to hum along with the chorus while she and her mother had discussed the intricacies of manipulating the growing trade between their realms. If military force was best left to others, that left only her extensive education on trade and economics to fall back on.
Hanse’s best economic initiative, the NAIS, had provided a stunning return on investment, but had been hamstrung by Kurita’s deliberate attempt to destroy as much of the campus as possible. The spate of contract negotiations between NAIS and the eager corporations in both halves of the Federated Commonwealth had been the high point of her official activities so far, and she began to consider how to leverage that involvement.
The NAIS was a key piece of several puzzles, she realized.
Takashi had approved the attack because the NAIS was a significant strategic threat to the Combine, and his Kepteyn ally had agreed to the point of supplying the Genyosha with samples of their priceless ECM gear in the middle of a war for survival.
They were right to be wary, she decided, walking back to the table, returning the mug to the clear spot at its edge. Then she smiled. But they have no idea how badly this failure will haunt them.
She and Hanse had discussed how with the reintroduction of modern water purification technology alone, several of the worlds severely damaged in the Succession Wars could begin to reverse the long decline and become productive once more. She sat once again and taking the mug in hand pulled out another of the rolling desk chairs with a foot until it faced her before putting her feet on the seat and leaning back with a sigh of relief. Reports had so far confirmed her suspicions. The physical sciences and cadets of CMS had largely borne the brunt of Kurita’s attack, with minor damage to the light industrial areas surrounding the campus.
Reaching out and putting the mug back on the table, her hands resumed their gentle massage, her mind filling with half-finished thoughts as she considered the unfamiliar trade routes now being routed through the conquered territories. Those routes were tangled, losing the crisp, clear efficiency of more established traditional routes, avoiding abandoned systems in favor of those whose value benefitted the Commonwealth and Suns as a whole…
Abandoned systems… She sat up, dropping her feet from the chair as her intuition sharpened on the prospect. Undefended worlds, that might be made prosperous again with the advances in water purification and the information of the Helm data core. Systems that would reduce travel time, provide resources, noble landholds, defensive depth in the most critical areas… And logistic hubs providing invasion routes with greater access to the Combine’s rear areas, stretching an already strained supply net, demanding more resources to secure their borders on both sides of the Terran corridor. Perfect!
I’m going to need some help moving files and searching the secure database, she realized. Then she smiled wolfishly. Fortunately, she knew where to find some idle hands that could help her find what she was looking for.
* * *
“Should I be concerned?” asked Hanse.
“No,” admitted Quintus. “But she’s brought in a steady stream of logistic experts, military advisors, and professors from NAIS to work with her for days now, and just smiles and says the wait will be worth the investment.”
“I expect she’s right, then.”
He nodded. Since moving into one of the confidential offices on the Davion family floor, Melissa’s personal staff had ballooned, clearly oriented to the growing mercantile and strategic concerns of the corridor between the two allied realms.
“Then – let’s see what happens. ‘Golden Pebbles’. Is that a codename or operational name?”
He was saved from answering as Melissa burst into the room with her customary energy and several leather-bound books that looked vaguely familiar under her arm, directing a bright smile at her husband, who went immediately to her.
Then the three of them took their places at the head of the table while Melissa handed out the books and sat watching them begin to examine the contents.
“’Golden Pebbles’”, she began with a wolfish smile. “Operates on a simple concept; ‘She who has the gold, makes the rules’.”
“Analysts have identified seven previously abandoned worlds near what they expect the final borders with the Combine will look like – all seven will require a significant investment of resources, primarily in construction materials and the expertise of the NAIS. Along the ‘Northern’ border with the Commonweath, Glenlivet, Bushmill, Talisker, and Kingtribel…”
Reading the… Prospectus? - Headed simply, ‘Glenlivet’, Quintus was taken aback, unfamiliar with most of the technical jargon of the documents. Skipping ahead to the next tab simply brought him to another stack of financial documents presumably doing the same thing, and he skipped to the final tab hoping the summary would be something easier to understand.
“…show the most promise, with Killbourn, Okaya and Goldlure along the ‘Southern’ border. None of these worlds suffered military action, simply becoming economically undesirable due to cost and environmental factors. Factors the NAIS and Helm core can mitigate or compensate for. I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” she asked teasingly.
Grimacing and closing the book in front of him, Quintus tapped his chest in acknowledgement, Hanse immediately following suit. He felt a twinge of unease as Melissa smiled.
“Most of these worlds provided raw materials. Now, they can provide invasion routes. These documents,” she said, indicating the books, “are the first official step to offering investments on these planets to investors, in effect publicly financing the military operations to garrison and develop those resources.”
“My God,” murmured Hanse. “You’re making war pay for itself!”
“A lesson in economics Takashi won’t soon forget, I hope,” said Melissa coldly. “In the meantime, we have time to send Scouts to ensure there haven’t been significant changes before releasing these documents publicly. Coordinate with Simon, if you don’t have the resources you need.”
He nodded. Although the number of Scout-class Jumpships were limited, they were designed for operations like these.
“Good,” Melissa said, with that unnerving smile. “A fitting revenge for the NAIS and House Steiner. And me.”
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I like Fruity Pebbles (cereal), but this wasn't bad.
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Nice piece. I hope Chris keeps it.
I always found that Melissa was not enough covered in canon and underappreciated. Also I think the FedCom didn't put enough emphasis on domestic growth. This addresses both.
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It's a nice side story, broadens Melissa SD's role.
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The physical sciences and cadets of CMS had largely borne the brunt of Kurita’s attack
The college of ifinance was also burned to ground.
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The college of ifinance was also burned to ground.
That just means Melissa can have it rebuilt/restaffed to her exacting specifications.
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The college of ifinance was also burned to ground.
Shhhh.
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Shhhh.
oooh
Melissa's gift, a Lyran business and finance school, all as a gift to the people of the suns
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The college of ifinance was also burned to ground.
it's a fiat faculty, it exists because you collectively believe it exists not on the basis of a holding of any particular precious item like water, gold, silver
That just means Melissa can have it rebuilt/restaffed to her exacting specifications.
oooh
Melissa's gift, a Lyran business and finance school, all as a gift to the people of the suns
Total War includes financial/commercial warfare, just explain it like that to any doubting FedSuns types
Tell any doubting Lyrans that effective warfare helps to improve the profit margin if done well - after all, dead soldiers can't consume goods you manufacture but if you can get everyone to use rotary autocannons you can make a fortune selling autocannon ammunition
Nice piece. I hope Chris keeps it.
I always found that Melissa was not enough covered in canon and underappreciated. Also I think the FedCom didn't put enough emphasis on domestic growth. This addresses both.
I would be tempted to examine how to conduct a guerre de course ([size=78%]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commerce_raiding (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commerce_raiding)[/size]) against the enemies of the FedCom - you don't even need to completely smash the trade infrastructure of, say, the Draconis Combine, you just need to hit a few key places and delay carefully worked out schedules and perhaps take out a few key JumpShips or DropShips or recharge stations to disrupt them and then the Kuritas would have to choose between preserving their economy and pursuing an offensive. This would be worse than what happened to the Fed Suns with Operation Rat as it would be unplanned by those on the receiving end >:D The Lyrans can supply U-boats and privateers (privateers sound like a very Lyran concept!)
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We're getting a bit off topic here but I suppose there isn't a 'What Drakensis oughta finish thread'.
I will merely comment that you didn't mention one of my other unfinished BT fics...
Kiko Sento, please.
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I do wonder what Hanse is working on to balance the warship playing field.
Congratulations mr smith. As reward you are given the system Odessa and the dark nebula / erit cluster as you have expressed interest in interstellar trade
Can’t wait for more.
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I do wonder what Hanse is working on to balance the warship playing field.
given what they have access to, could Hanse start building Ship engines? That was big stumbling block right?
Also did Mr.Smith have any info on where SL mothballed fleet assets? Could see recovery missions being launch for easy ones
Congratulations mr smith. As reward you are given the system Odessa and the dark nebula / erit cluster as you have expressed interest in interstellar trade
[/quote]
Be carefully what you wish for...
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If the get to Camelot first, maybe...
TT
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I wonder if smith will use a bit of meta game speculation to push for some resources to look into the aurigan reach.
He knows there was a game set in the region from his founder status. He know knows where from links to his memory. If there was a game developer dropping toys and story elements into the region. It would be fair to assume that there might be something worth investment of resources.
The amount of interesting bits would depend on the effect of his si jump. But there might be something worthwhile.
Stay safe. Stay home. Stay writing!!!
Can’t wait for more
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Melissa unleashes the power of economic development and Infrastructure.
Takashi I would tell you to be afraid but you would not listen. Instead we can only hope for something like this to happen.
Political cartoon of samurai mocking the feeble archon because he thinks she is no threat next to the fox.
Then cartoon melissa breaks his sword and pounds him into the ground using a giant bag of money.
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Melissa unleashes the power of economic development and Infrastructure.
Takashi I would tell you to be afraid but you would not listen. Instead we can only hope for something like this to happen.
Political cartoon of samurai mocking the feeble archon because he thinks she is no threat next to the fox.
Then cartoon melissa breaks his sword and pounds him into the ground using a giant bag of money.
and afterwards goes for her swim in the giant sea of money in her Moneybin.
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I wonder if smith will use a bit of meta game speculation to push for some resources to look into the aurigan reach.
He knows there was a game set in the region from his founder status. He know knows where from links to his memory. If there was a game developer dropping toys and story elements into the region. It would be fair to assume that there might be something worth investment of resources.
The amount of interesting bits would depend on the effect of his si jump. But there might be something worthwhile.
Stay safe. Stay home. Stay writing!!!
Can’t wait for more
He's fixated on the Clans ATM. Even IF the Outbound Light (or any other EC-flagged ship) does not enter Clan space and starts the invasion, it is inevitable unless something prevents it (like a bold Batchall to change the crusader mandate)…
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The folks on SB are constantly speculating about the Reach but Smith is always thinking about the Combine and then the Clans. It'll be interesting to see where Chris takes the story.
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That tread is going to get shut down soon, the endless details are a bit much.
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It is one of the "necessary evils" of SB, great for sussing-out ideas but far too easy to dive into unnecessary tangents. That said....
I am curious as to how Chris will have the 4th Succession War end. We know that the gains on both the Lyran-Combine front and Davion-Capellan front are better than canon, but just how much better will they be at the end? How are things evolving, or devolving, in the Combine and where will that lead to? Where are things going to go regarding the Rasalhague worlds; a full independent state like canon, an independent protectorate like the St. Ives Compact was, or will they become a new March for the FedCom? What situation is the FWL left in, as there have already been mentions regarding tensions rising internally there from several factors? Will Andurien still secede, align with the Canopians, and then try to take chunks out of the corpse of the Capellan Confederation? What about the situation in Skye, since they have a minor rebellion in canon in 3034 that causes some headaches for the nascent FedCom.
So many interesting things could happen.
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From what Chris insinuated in his commentary, Rasallhague will be incorporated into LC under more competent leadership than Kelswa (Nondi is there to keep the fool under control).
4th SW will end with OTL exfiltration of Justin Allard and assault on Dieron by 4th Davion Guards and 4th Royal Guards.
Skye rebellion will lack the leadership and won't have the example of Rasallhague independence.
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The following extract is from ‘Thirty Years On - how the 4th Succession War still defines the Inner Sphere today’. Tharkard City Publishing House, 3058.
Chapter 8 - Concord; Broken.
January 3029 - April 3029
The Capellan Front
For all the (very real) mental instability the Capellan Chancellor, Maximilian Liao was cursed with, it is undeniable that at his best he was an incredibly shrewd man. One with keen political insights and a breathtaking ability to exactly walk the line between audacity and stupidity that more often than not played out in his favor. We may never actually know with certainty, for example, if Anton Marik was executed and replaced by a Liao doppelganger (something all but taken as a fact by a surprising majority of people in the Free Worlds League despite the lack of hard evidence). But even if this was not actually the case, it is true that for minimal investments of his own Maximilian caused massive disruption to the Free Worlds League that took them well over a decade to recover from and left scars on the Captain General that never healed. And with the League busy licking its wounds, he had been left free to concentrate on House Davion as they in turn concentrated on the Combine.
The anticipated endgame of the Hanse Davion ‘Doppelganger’ scenario has been the subject of immense speculation, but all that can be said for sure with any certainty is that if Maximilian had been indeed successful in replacing Hanse Davion and abrogating the Federated-Commonwealth alliance (at a minimum), he could have changed the strategic picture of the Inner Sphere for generations in his favor. And again, seemingly at very little cost to himself. And, if Colonel Ardan Sortek had not stumbled onto the plan on Steins folly and started unraveling the threads? There is every reason to think Maximilian would have gotten away with it as he had in the Free Worlds League. At least for long enough to cripple the Federated Suns and give him breathing room badly needed.
Ironically, it was in coming so close to a total success that the Chancellor now had fate turn against him as his greatest asset became his greatest liability. As we now know, Archduke Michael Hasek-Davion was not a great patriot playing a long con who died in glory on Sarna, but the greatest Federation traitor in a century, seeking to supplant his brother in law on the throne of the Federated Suns and fully engaged in a secret alliance with House Liao.
Of course, Maximilian also surely knew full well Michael would just as soon turn on him after he got the throne (hence the popular theory that the first thing his ‘Fake Hanse’ would have done would have been to order the AFFS to move against Michael) but for now at least, it was very clearly in both of their interests to try to slow Hanse Davions spearheads and force a stalemate. Accordingly, when the priceless data on AFFS logistics and troop movements arrived from Michael in late 3028, Maximilian eagerly took the data at face value and built his strategic planning on its foundation.
Unfortunately for Maximilian, Hanse Davion (who had been traditionally indifferent to the Confederation with his focus on the Combine) had in fact turned his full attention to House Liao after coming within a hair's breadth of being replaced by a brainwashed and mutilated man who genuinely thought he was Hanse Davion. It would seem that, somehow, in this new spotlight of attention and resources Hanse Davion and his spymasters became aware of his brother not simply desiring the throne (something of an open secret in the highest circles of the Federated Suns Government), but that he was fully engaged in high treason with Maximilian Liao to get his hands on it any way he could. Hard evidence was in the First Princes hands as the (admittedly injenous) secret transmitter in Michael's bionic left hand was compromised by DMI Division 3 providing gigabytes of damning data. But rather than simply charge him with High Treason, Hanse instead (predictably) saw the opportunity to ‘flip’ his brother-in-law into an unwilling agent against Liao to feed false information to his enemy.
Although sounding simple on the face of it, given that Micahel had been the former head of MIIO and had all but run the Federated Suns while Ian Davion was off fighting wars on the front lines, this took a considerable amount of very meticulous work from New Avalon to pull off effectively (see Chapter 3 ‘Spy Games’ for more details).
But pull it off Quintus Allard and Hanse Davion did.
3028 had certainly included a number of sharp, hard blows for the CCAF and Confederation after Hanse Davions wedding toast. Tikonov, the most industrialized and one of the most heavily defended worlds in the Confederation, had fallen to the Davion Sledgehammer with the entire Crucis Lancers brigade being dropped on it in a deployment worthy of the hedy days of the 1st Succession War. A follow up wave had then made it clear to the Capellan Confederation that Davions troops were far from exhausted and there was no doubt that Hanse Davion was not planning to stop anytime soon as the Terran regions were all but carved away from the rest of the Confederation. The traditional Capellan strategy of an ‘elastic defense’ of battalion sized Mech forces backed with moderate supporting units that would ‘pin’ attackers allowing for reaction forces to arrive in overwhelming force using the Confederations far superior lines of internal communication had worked well during the 3rd Succession War and limited attacks pushed back. But it was worse than useless with Davion RCTs crashing down on worlds across the entire region all at once, pitting border garrisons and reaction forces both against three times their number of AFFS units and wiping them out wholesale.
Yet Davions terrifying progress over the first three waves now started to slow as the need to garrison worlds cut into not simply the units available to attack, but also the Jumpship logistics that became increasingly strained despite the addition of Lyran ships, Kuritan Jumpships captured at the Battle of Misery and Davion civilian ships conscripted into military service. And while the Confederations allies had not proven terribly useful, there stood reason to believe (at that time) that if a strong enough showing could be made, the Free Worlds League might yet get involved on their side.
While recapturing all the worlds taken was too much to hope for even in Maximilians heart, simply drawing a line and limiting the Confederation losses to part of the Terran region worlds would have been an incredible achievement given the odds stacked against him. And with the un-engaged units of the Northwind Highlanders moving up to the front and McCarron's Armored Cavalry also starting to shift towards Sarna as planets pushed past their shock to prepare for the fight of their lives; the CCAF would never have a better chance to make an effective counter-attack. With the best estimates from Hasek-Davion that the next Davion wave would kick off middle to late January, there was indeed a narrow window to seize the initiative and go on the offensive.
The only remaining question was, where?
Operation RIPOSTE
The brainchild of Tsen Shang, Operation RIPOSTE was prima facie the very picture of elegance. Michael Hasek-Davion, although kept at something of arms length from the AFFS war planning, was nonetheless an Archduke and had thus been able to piece together the jumpship logistics chains in use by the AFFS. His data, although perhaps a little thin, nonetheless conclusively pointed to six worlds just over the old border with the Federated Suns serving as the primary logistics bases for the AFFS in this invasion. Stockpiling massive amounts of material from all over the Suns and Lyran Commonwealth that was then distributed by a highly sophisticated network of ‘just in time’ jumpships inside the Confederation, it meant the AFFS RCTs did not have to ‘live off the land’ and could press their attack with incredible speed.
Hasek-Davions data was very painstakingly put together - as would be expected from a former director of MIIO. Never getting the full picture or even absolute evidence from any one or two sources, but pulling together enough that when assembled he could only draw one possible conclusion. The six aforementioned worlds were hidden in plain sight; worlds of no real strategic value that the CCAF wouldn’t bother to counter attack. Worlds without any line units on them, few military resources to ransack … and accordingly little to no useful presence by the Maskirovka that might even be able to give away such a secret. A point underlined quite strongly in the Archdukes messages to Maximilian.
Any military mind watching the progress of the war could see that Davion had built a superb logistics machine that was allowing an almost unprecedented flow of constant attacks to take place with an unprecedented number of troops (for this time period). But ironically, the sheer overwhelming size and power of his RCTs was a weakness in and of itself. As for all their brutal self-contained striking power and occupational abilities, their logistical footprint was enormous compared to the far looser Battle groups used by the DCMS or CCAF. And while trying to match the AFFS Mech for Mech would be little more than a fast way to throw away troops, a sudden strike at the enemy logistics to pit critical strength against critical weakness with agility and cunning was very much in the best traditions (and notable successes) of the CCAF.
And so accordingly, Tsen christened his bold plan ‘Operation RIPOSTE’.
Maximilian Liao leapt on the plan as salvation for the Confederation. If those bases could be destroyed - or even better looted by the Confederation then destroyed - the AFFS attack would seize to a halt as the sheer size of the AFFS Juggernaut and the immense logistics needed to run Regimental Combat Teams was turned against it. Their next attacks would need to be postponed and the looted material would strengthen the CCAF instead. Davions dispersed forward garrisons would be left vulnerable to counter-attacks by the concentrated force of the CCAFs best with local superiority and indeed; the native populations stunned by the speed and ferocity of the Davion attack may yet be stirred to patriotic resistance!
On paper anyway.
There was of course the slight problem of where to find the troops to make this attack - but showing his typical pragmatic ruthlessness, the Chancellor ordered the shattered survivors of units who had managed to fall back from the overwhelming first waves to make the effort. While only a shadow of their former selves, collectively they could field up a force of five or so mixed regiments in strength to attack the six worlds identified and with the jumpships already in place to support them, they could be in action swiftly. And, as the worlds were said to be only lightly guarded, it was hoped this level of force would be enough to get the job done.
The troops were also ‘encouraged’ by their leaders' orders; making it clear that if they succeeded in these attacks, their failures (daring to flee while other units had stood their ground and fought until death or at least, until they had no other options) would be wiped clean and they would be lauded as heroes of the Confederation. Left unsaid but well understood was the implication that if they failed and lacked the grace to die in service of the state this time; their families would be made to pay the most brutal price possible along with themselves.
Justin Xiang (in one of his many acts of sheer gall as the greatest of Davion spies) did note to Maximilian the limits of their own intelligence to crosscheck Hasek-Davions and pleaded for time to confirm it before committing, but his concerns were impatiently brushed aside by Maximilian who feared the window was far too narrow for such things. Xiang accepted the orders, but did successfully bring to the Chancellors attention his suspicions of a secret NAIS logistics base on Axton, one he had been developing intelligence on completely independent of Michael Hasek-Davions information. He thus suggested his own planned raid to hit and investigate that could go off under the RIPOSTE banner, with the bonus of concealing and confusing his father's spies of their sources of information.
Of course, by this point in time the first confused rumors from the Combine front of ‘Lyran Supermechs’ and ‘Dragoon Devils’ had given way to the reality of the ‘Nightmare on Tikonov’ where the AFFS (and especially the Fox’s Teeth in a very high profile attack leading in the rest of the 7th Crucis Lancers) had shown off exactly what their upgraded designs could do as TSM upgraded designs first started to appear in the AFFS ranks. By the fourth wave of attacks, at least thirty five percent of the AFFS Mechs were running Triple Strength Myomyers and (again) very high profile showings of more ‘Super Mechs’ in gloating AFFS propaganda footage had the Strategios in something approaching a panic.
There was no doubt that Maximilian had put his hope in the supply depots having plenty of examples of this technology to throw onto his own Battlemech units (partially explaining his eagerness to launch the operation) while delaying the AFFS rollout, but Justin explained in turn that he strongly ‘suspected’ the technology was coming not through the Department of the Quartermaster but through the Department of the Military Research and Development - hence Hasek-Davions near complete lack of data on it. And that if he didn’t miss his guess, NAIS was in fact locally manufacturing and shipping it from Axton. Meaning not just the fibers, but the very machines that made it could be ripe for the taking...
Maximilian of course enthusiastically agreed to cover his bets before, without pause, switching gears to order the death of Colonel Pavel Ridzik whose own suggested plan of action the Chancellor took to be nothing more than an attempt to gather the best of the CCAF to his own banner for the purposes of taking back his Homeworld of Tikonov before coming to Sian to try and take the throne itself.
There were two pieces of news however that became harbingers of the future for the Confederation at roughly the same time. Firstly, the Free Worlds League formally refused Maximilians demands to intervene in the war, citing the Davions just released presentation around ‘Operation DOPPELGANGER’ as evidence that this war was one that the Chancellor had brought upon himself, although he did continue to offer trade and some logistical support to the CCAF. Maximilian was far from pleased but pushed aside, for now, any immediate response. At the same time, news came that the Northwind Highlanders - one of the key units in the counter attack Maximilian hoped to launch on the offensive after RIPOSTE- had suddenly and without notice, charged straight off for Northwind. So too had their two units that had still been stubbornly holding Davion up on second and third wave targets also thrown in the towel and abandoned the worlds (that to be perfectly fair even Maximilian knew were untenable to hold) and boosted to join them.
The short messages the Strategios received suggested the Highlanders had seemingly ‘gone rogue’ but not betrayed the Confederation, deciding that they would charge for their home and take it while they still had the chance before it slipped away. Maximilian was certainly nonplussed at the action, but ultimately clearly decided that such a deep strike into the Federated Suns rear areas could only be a help to him. Especially as Davion would be due to launch his next wave of attacks about the time they reached their long lost Homeworld, now deep behind enemy lines. So, rather than uselessly trying to order them back, he retroactively sent a HPG message for ComStar to chase them, giving them his blessing. Reasoning that if they survived and somehow held their ground, it would be in his name. If Davion counter attacked? Well, with four regiments in defense it would pull a major AFFS force off the front lines to defeat them. If Davion ignored the attack, it would provide a secure deep-strike base for the CCAF and even the DCMS to attack into the enemy rear areas from.
And even if they failed and were mauled (hopefully doing major damage even in losing), by sending a message of approval and good luck they would know they would be welcome back if they had to retreat. … and probably be in no position to quibble over being absorbed into the CCAF.
And so with a flurry of HPG messages, Operation RIPOSTE was launched as the personal Christmas and New Year gift to Hanse Davion from Maximilian Liao. 3028 ended on a rare feeling of hope in the Strategios that once again Maximilian Liao had seemed to find that daring path between recklessness and audacity that would save them all once more.
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Operation AMBUSH
The Federated Suns counterpoint to Operation RIPOSTE, AMBUSH held three key objectives for House Davion.
The most obvious objective was operational; draw in as many mobile Capellan units as possible and murder them while tying up their jumpship logistics to make the attempt. In reality, most of the AFFS supplies had been pre-positioned on recently taken worlds inside the Confederation itself as well as two deep-space ‘dumping grounds’ whose location was a carefully guarded secret. The six ‘supply bases’ were not empty of military equipment though; eight RCTs and six independent Mech regiments were lying in wait at these bases including no less than two Davion Guards RCTs and when the provisional attacking forces hit each of the bases, they were unsurprisingly obliterated with little problem. No matter the Chancellors later insistence that these troops were dead anyway; the truth was that these were losses the CCAF could ill afford even in normal times. Just as bad as the manpower and equipment loss however was the morale loss (albeit only at the higher levels as propaganda carefully hid the truth even from senior field commanders) when it became clear the Chancellors grand counter attack had been nothing but another of Hanse Davions painstakingly prepared traps. And while the assasination of Pavel Ridzik clearly brought a rare genuine smile to the face of Maximilian Liao, the loss of perhaps the finest theater commander the CCAF had didn’t do terribly much to firm up morale in his subordinates as the collapse in the morale of the task forces Pavel had been scraping together edged towards outright mutiny.
Perhaps most pressing logic behind AMBUSH was that Hanse Davions' need for his brother in law as a conduit for misdirection had now reached its end. While the First Prince had been willing to tolerate Michael Hasek-Davions treason so long as it proved useful to him, Michael was no fool and would surely realize he had been used to send misinformation to Maximilian Liao. Indeed, Hanse Davion ‘lit the fuse’ as it were by sending a priority message to Michael personally after the news arrived on New Avalon, explaining that he had deliberately arranged things as a canary trap to prove there was a leak in the very highest levels of Capellan March Command. And he ‘assured’ his brother in law that Quintus Allard was sending a crack specialist team in to conclusively ‘deal’ with the situation, with the Capellan Ambassador to his court already declared persona non grata and escorted off the planet not quite at gunpoint as the contact for the spy, a MIIO team on world doing so without even bothering to tell the local authorities until it was all over.
Despite all of Michael Hasek-Davions experience and skill, when Hanse Davion ‘beat the grass to startle the snakes’ the Archduke unquestionably panicked. He did not attempt to shift the blame onto someone else or spin the leaks around to present himself as trying to play a similar con on Liao. Or even seemingly question if Hanse did have hard proof or simply suspicions he could ride out or try to work to his advantage somehow, given the cutouts he had tried to work through gathering the bits of information Quintus had carefully put on the end of his fishing line...
Of course, it could also very well be that Micahel suspected if he tried to save himself by those approaches, Maximilian would simply openly leak via ComStar the hard evidence of their covert meetings on Sian in revenge for the spectacular failure of RIPOSTE in the hope of setting off a civil war among his enemies. Nor did he try to stay put and simply brazen it out ... but then given the incredible success of Hanse Davions highly uncharacteristic yet undeniably highly effective media manipulation in the Capellan March (See Chapter 12; Operation KATHERINE); Micahel may have feared a general revolt if Hanse went public while he was still on-planet. And if even his own trusted household troops might turn on him...
In any event, the Archduke made his choice and left his palace shortly after receiving the message from the First Prince, downloading and taking with him as much strategic data as he could from the High Command in a hurry. He then eluded his security (claiming to his wife to be going on a hunting trip in the Snow Forests a few hours from the capital) to take a long range shuttle which moved to dock with the Jumpship that was taking the Capellan Ambassador home.
As it turned out, this was a very poor choice. The shuttle pilot was in fact a MIIO plant and Michael remained completely unaware that he had docked with the wrong Jumpship (the Ambassadors ship having left the system six hours before he arrived at the jump point) until he stepped off the shuttle and was greeted by a ‘welcoming committee’ of a squad of handpicked Davion Assault Guards infantry led by Major Jackson Davion, son of Princes Champion Yvonne Davion. Michaels half hearted attempt to go on the offensive over this ‘outrage’ fell apart almost immediately when it became clear to him that Hanse had him dead to rights and shortly after being declared under arrest for High Treason, he was chemically sedated with a tranq-gun ‘before he could do anything stupid’ and taken rapidly to New Avalon via a makeshift command circut.
Finally, although not anticipated, a clear benefit to the events came to Justin Xiang and his profile in the Capellan Court. The loss of Micahel Hasek-Davion caused major headaches for the Maskirovka both in cutting off information and forcing them to suspect everything he had sent to them even though it was clear Hanse Davion had allowed some truths to leak out via Micahel to make their headaches that much greater. Maximilians already considerable trust in Justin Xiang was now taken to a whole new level. His openly voiced doubts about Michael’s intelligence were now vindicated, while his plan to hit a secret NAIS base he had ‘developed intelligence on’ independently of Hasek-Davion was a triumphant success. He and his handpicked team returned with three dropships filled almost to bursting with enough Triple Strength Myomer fibers to refit a half dozen Battlemech regiments, ‘complete’ engineering data on it and key components from one of the modified myomer looms to make more of the incredible material.
Presented with such overwhelming success the Chancellor awarded Justin the Baton of Illustrious Service on the spot and each of the surviving members of the 4th Tau Ceti Rangers were awarded the Liao Sunburst of Gallantry for their efforts at the same time; their sins wiped clean as the equipment was offloaded. No expense was spared as Hellespont Industrials worked with breakneck speed to pull the high-capacity looms out of their existing Battlemech production lines (causing a months worth of disruption to Battlemech production that again the Confederation could ill afford but seemed more than worth it) and start up production. The dropship loads of the kits looted from Davion were rapidly shipped out to CCAF units expected to be beyond the next attack wave of Davion, including the Big MAC who were routed to Sarna secretly, to prepare a very warm surprise indeed when Davion came calling.
Even more good news came from Tsen Shang (no doubt eager to make up for the complete failure of Operation RIPOSTE that had been his brainchild) that no less a titan than Yorinaga Kurita was heading straight for New Avalon on a mission to kill Hanse Davion and that he had taken the liberty of a time limited offer (while Justin had been the initial contact, he had passed this over to Shang while he was away leading the raid on Axton) to ship a dozen of the new Electronic Warfare kits to a deep space rendezvous point at a request from House Kurita.
The request had come, specifically, from Chandrasekhar Kurita who was serving as something of a back channel contact for House Kurita at the time (see ‘Case: TARGARYEN’). On behalf of the Combine he reached out to the Confederation, offering not only the gift of an enormous strategic distraction of Hanse Davion having to defend (and hopefully fall defending) his capital, but on offer to share the data the DCMS obtained from their very limited Lyran salvage on an ongoing basis of the TSM technology the FedCom powers were using.
Maximilian was (understandably) delighted at the news that Hanse Davions capital was going to be hit by perhaps the greatest living Mechwarrior in the Inner Sphere and his elite unit, correctly anticipating that the Fox himself would no doubt seek to confront the invader personally as a matter of honor. A handful of the Confederations hand-built EW units (especially if they proved to be a major contributing factor in a Kurita victory that he could parly for later favors) was indeed a small price to pay for that. And if Justins or his own operations failed to find any trace of the TSM technology, then at least he would have something to work with.
In the end of course, it was a ‘magnanimous’ Maximlian who forwarded via ComStar the complete technical data of the TSM technology to the Combine, with only slightly snide comments noting ‘his hope that the Mighty Samurai would soon be able to face the merchants of the Commonwealth on even ground’ and Chandrasekhar wasted no time stewing over the smug comments, instead leading crash programs to manufacture the enhanced Battlemech muscles at Luthien Armor Works.
The return of Justin Xiang with the Davions secret technology did much to bring hope back to the higher ups of the Confederation after the shocking reversals. The best revised estimates (free of Micahel Hasek-Davions ‘intelligence’) were that Davion would launch his next wave of attacks in April or May, with Davion needing time to shuffle units that he had clearly positioned as reaction forces against the Capellan counter-attack back into place. The time was most welcome and used by the Confederation to reinforce worlds by calling up every reserve they could muster to bulk out conventional brigades of infantry who would make poor Anti-Mech units, but certainly could cause trouble to occupation units. At the same time, the CCAF was working around the clock to both re-equip the most elite and critical units with the TSM fibers looted by Justin and making truly herculean efforts to get local production spun up. It was expected that Yorinaga Kurita would hit New Avalon at the end of March or beginning of April and there was clear hopes that if Karma balanced and the legend actually managed to kill Hanse Davion, the entire Federated Suns would be thrown into chaos in an instant and open up opportunities. Although he had mostly given up on Morgan Hasek-Davion, the Chancellor also suspended his edict of death upon Micahel, pending the attack on New Avalon. Clearly hoping that if Hanse died, Michael would take his last chance to rip free and seize the Throne now that he had been publicly ‘exonerated’, an act he fully expected Hanse’s loyal followers to fight back against which would yet open up chaos that he would be fully prepared to exploit.
The Battle of New Avalon as it turned out of course was a terrifyingly close run thing for the Federation given how close Hanse Davion came to dying. Yorinaga Kurita showed his reputation as a living legend was indeed well earned and if not for the equally legendary intervention of one Subaltern John Smith, his attack could very well have turned the tide of the war in a stroke and changed the course of history.
But, it didn’t.
The attack, ultimately, was a strategic failure. A spectacular failure the Combine milked for internal propaganda value to the limit (no less than twelve rushed propaganda vid films were broadcast across the Combine, the “best” two of which became staples on Confederation state media channels), but a failure nonetheless. Worse, instead of making Davion look weak to his people and draining support for the war, Hanse Davions popularity only seemed to grow to new levels of strength as he was carefully presented as not only having avenged his brother's death but having successfully defended his capital personally. To say nothing of the still seething fury all opinion polls pointed to from Maximilians failed attempt to replace their Prince with a fake which Hanse Davion had spun into masterful propaganda to cloak his war in righteousness - especially after a modest amount of criticism had come his way for his glib ‘wedding gift’ of a war to his bride that had been the culmination of Katrina Steiners peace process. It was a feeling that cut across not simply the Federated Suns, but into the Lyran Commonwealth where conversations about the Federated Suns ‘wasting its time’ with the Confederation switched almost overnight into righteous support for putting down a man ‘who had finally gone too far’ with DOPPELGANGER.
There were still a couple of silver linings for House Liao from events though. Firstly, the damage to NAIS would keep it out of action for some time and unable to throw any new headaches at House Liao (although Operation LACTIC would prove NAIS had already put the pieces on the board). Secondly, the attack on New Avalon did cause disruption and distraction to the AFFS, costing them perhaps an additional one to two weeks of time as shipments from New Avalon and nearby worlds were rerouted and delayed on already strained Jumpship links with no slack in capacity. And lastly, no matter how much the Federations press gloated about their victory, Capellan spies suggested that a lot of the more senior nobility on New Avalon and worlds around it who had never come under the threat of attack in living memory were rather more skittish than the general population. Having seen even when ‘playing nice’ how easily Kurita had raided deep worlds with seeming impunity and worrying if either the Confederation or Combine might double down, a very possible political friction point to attack … but he would never get the chance.
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‘We regret to inform you…’
It is now known that a very secret but very real protocol had existed between House Davion and the Clan Elders of Northwind after the conquest of their world by the AFFS in 2842. Essentially a handshake agreement between Lord William Stuart - one of Paul II Davions closest advisors and friends- and the Clan Elders that was later codified formally by House Davion, it ensured that the planet would not make any trouble for House Davion and offer their full loyalty. Given that this was the height of the 2nd Succession War, this decision may well have saved Northwind from the fate of other Terran core worlds fought over and left as wastelands. House Davion essentially agreed to ignore open lines of communication (beyond the given neutrality of HPG messages via ComStar) between Northwind and the Highlanders who, despite their complicated history since the fall of the Star League, still considered each other kin and family. Annual ‘official, unofficial’ visits by senior members of the Northwind Highlanders continued through the centuries and House Davion even turned a blind eye to the retirement of Highlanders to Northwind and descendents leaving Northwind to join the unit in service to House Liao as the Clan Elders stood by their agreement and remained loyal to the Suns - a loyalty that became steadily more than pro-forma as the Davion cultural and Governance structures returned the planetary Governance back towards the Terran norms and remained mostly hands off, while the Clan Elders watched House Liao increasingly slip into more and more of a police state as the wars dragged on.
To say the least it was a somewhat unique arrangement, but both sides made it work reasonably well over the centuries with House Davion gaining a highly loyal world in a critical strategic position that served as a major staging hub for AFFS units in the Terran regions. Meanwhile, being formally cut off from their home curiously led to the Highlanders embracing Northwinds culture as never before and adopting new customs to hold their links and traditions close even as their more Confederation loyal members died off in battle or retired. Most notably the ‘pilgrimage’; a right-of-passage for any officer promoted to lead one of the Regiments. A visit where they would present themselves to the Clan Elders on Northwind and either reaffirm their oaths to the Clans if a member, or, formally be initiated into the Clan, if said Elders found them worthy. And while the Confederation continued with each new renewal of the Highlanders contract to assure them that as soon as practical they would spearhead the ‘liberation’ of their homeworld, as the decades turned to well over a century, it became very clear that Northwind was of little strategic concern to House Liao.
No matter how much it chaffed the Highlanders that their homeworld remained denied to them, the odds were high that any attack on Northwind would invoke a violent Davion response that could leave their world a wasteland. Even as such actions faded away into the much less brutal 3rd Succession War campaigns, House Liao remained unwilling for various reasons (cynically one might think that they were afraid if the Highlanders got their Homeworld back, they would recall they were in fact Mercenaries and simply offer their services to another great power) to commit to more than a few minor probing raids.
Nonetheless, the ties between House Liao - and a great many other noble houses from the Confederation in fact - and the Highlanders went back even to the Age of War and the Capellan Government skillfully played on that history to keep them loyal and in a place of great respect over the decades. Many other mercenary units were formed and fell by the wayside as the wars dragged on but the Highlanders maintained excellent support from their employer and so repaid it with loyal service even if they always looked to Northwind in their hearts.
It was only truly at the tail end of the 3rd Succession War that friction between the Northwind Highlanders and Liao started to grow to a disruptive level. Several things other than the lack of action on their Homeworld undoubtedly contributed to this, including the steady decline of the Confederation as a power and the ‘questionable’ leadership of Maximilian Liao. But arguably, the greatest direct cause of the Highlanders becoming increasingly disillusioned with their situation was the emergence onto the scene of another multi-regiment Mercenary unit who became the ‘hot new thing’ in the Confederation.
‘The Big Mac’ (as McCarron's Armored Cavalry were called) were a relatively new unit compared to the Highlanders. Formed in 2930 but only coming into the de-facto permanent service of the Capellan Confederation in 2996. They were welcomed with open arms by the Chancellor who quickly moved to tie them to the Confederation by awarding them a major landhold on Menke and either supporting or turning a blind eye over the next decades to their business dealings that let them build up considerable supply chains and industry (up to and including black market links to the Lyran Commonwealth and Free Worlds League) independent of Capellan Government sources. The Big MAC also quickly proved themselves both an accomplished unit - and a surprisingly brutal one and it was not long before friction started building between them and the Highlanders. The first true instance being blowback from the Big MAC’s raid against the Davion world of New Valencia, targeting the Wolf’s Dragoons base there in apparent retaliation for being consistently beaten by these ‘newcomers’ on the battlefield, determined to show them who was best. But when their raid became bogged down against the Dragoons highly competent defense (rather proving the Dragoons the superior soldiers), McCarron changed tactics and proceeded to attack the undefended nearby city of Raiteland, trying to find the Dragoons dependents and kill them, forcing the Dragoons to come out from their defensive positions to push the MAC away in a brutal days long battle broken only when the Eridani Light Horse arrived and forced the Big Mac to withdraw. Leaving behind a four-digit civilian body count and hundreds of millions of H-Bills worth of property damage.
Lauded as heroes when they returned and made into media darlings, the Highlanders' quiet protests to the Chancellor about their appalling behavior was dismissed politely by the Chancellor who insisted their claims were just them unknowingly repeating Davion propaganda and exaggerations, seemingly forgetting the channels the Highlanders maintained which assured them they were not. Archibald McCarron also found out about the Highlanders protests and sent them a message not quite politely telling them to mind their own business, ensuring relations between the two units were strained very quickly. A quiet meeting by several Highlander officers with Jamie and Joshua Wolf during their short service with House Liao several years later also confirmed the truth, only helping to make more than a few Highlanders wonder at both the type of people McCarron had working for him and the fact that the Chancellor seemed to delight in their actions.
The Highlanders' disquiet with McCarron's Armored Cavalry deepend in the aftermath of McCarrons famous ‘Long March’ - where more tactics that could be said quite easily to be outright War Crimes went without passing comment (let alone censure) by the CCAF. More and more material was thrown into the ‘Big MAC’ to help them rebuild while the waiting lists the Highlanders were on seemed to stretch further with every month despite their own high, if rather less ‘flashy’, operational tempo. It seemed to many that rather than seeing their long history of loyal service to House Liao as something worth rewarding as previous Chancellors had, the CCAF were increasingly seeing the Highlanders as little more than glorified House Troops. New unit assignments increasingly shifted individual Highlander Regiments around as a ‘fire brigade’ to cover weak spots in the Confederation without consulting - something their contracts did allow the CCAF to do, even if historically the Stratos had been much more consultative about deployments. In hindsight, it is clear that the Highlanders' reputation with the Dukes of the Confederation was in fact so great that there was enormous politicking of the Chancellor for those units to be assigned to worlds as a force powerful enough to make even the Davions pause. And accordingly, the Chancellor was unsurprisingly willing to use the deployment orders of the Highlanders as a sign of his favor, to be given or withdrawn accordingly.
McCarron however, seemed to be given leave to pick and choose his missions with much greater freedom when not rebuilding in defensive garrisons. Although this was something of an exaggeration, it is undeniable that Maximilian was far more consultative with the Big MAC, although seemingly because he understood he was riding the tiger with them. And that Archie McCarron was ‘a raging flood that can only be channeled, not halted’ as he would later put it.
Still, from the Highlander point of view, more than one Colonel asked the question (very quietly) if this was the start of a long Company Store play. Their own finances were still solid thanks to very careful sideline income investment portfolios that most of the bigger and longer term Merc units used to cover cashflow bumps, but they were undeniably trending long-term into ‘war’ being unprofitable for them. Support they had long assumed upon from the Confederation started to dry up and even as the Big MAC held what all but amounted to a homeworld of their own with both impressive direct industrial support and rumored black-market connections to support them, the Highlanders were still denied their own homeworld. And despite all the historical links between them, the simple truth was that the Confederation was the poorest of the Successor States.
In hindsight Maximilian Liao was clearly not attempting a company store policy. But the confluence of a mixture of missing the warning signs and making poor choices in managing his relationship with the Highlanders ensured that from the point of view of the mercenaries, the end result was not dissimilar. It was undeniable that he had long since taken both the Highlanders loyalty (and even their very presence) for granted, forgetting that they were ultimately mercenary units who had long -politely- declined offers of Capellan Citizenship outside of those few who joined them from the Confederation, with their sights set on their homeworld alone. And while its equally clear in hindsight that Maximilians prioritising of the Big MAC over the Highlanders was not in any way intended as a slight but simply a logistical necessity given that the damage McCarron caused was only matched by the damage his people took, he also made no efforts to reaffirm their loyalty or personally reach out to the Highlanders and assuage their concerns. It was only in early 3028 that he assigned his youngest daughter to that task while on her personal landhold of Highspire where the 1st Kearny Highlanders were stationed, instructing her to take the time to engage with the Highlanders and make sure of their continued loyalty to the state - and even then, seemingly more as a pro-forma test of his daughter then a recognition that the Highlander relationship had reached a very delicate level.
Suffice to say, Romano Liaos attempts, on behalf of her father, to reassure the Highlanders Colonels of their continued place in the Confederation were not successful. When the Colonels of the Highlanders pressed her on several concerns they held, the blunt and flat responses were far more in the line of a superior correcting a slow servent (although by the standards of Romano Liao it should be noted that by all accounts this was her being quite charming and on her best behavior) and only helped solidify the increasingly audible concerns of the senior officers of the Highlanders that House Liao genuinely didn’t see them as anything more than House Troops. Quiet agreements by the command staff were made in the aftermath that in 3030, when their contract was up for renewal, House Liao would need to make substantial concessions if they wished to retain their services, but further discussions were aborted as the Duchess was suddenly recalled by her Father to Sian and a few days later the confused Highlanders found out why - along with the rest of the Inner Sphere.
Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner were to be married on Terra - a wedding to which Romano was invited.
The declaration of war and announcement that the Confederation was to be his wedding present to his bride by Hanse Davion that followed didn’t immediately catch the Highlanders, but in the second wave the the 3rd Davion Guard squared off against Marions Highlanders on Ningpo and the 5th and 6th Crucis Lancers dropped against the 2nd Kearny Highlanders on Jonathan in the third wave as they redeployed from Tikonov. In hindsight it is very obvious that the Davion units engaging the Highlanders were very much using the kid gloves, working to hold the Mercenaries in place while doing as little damage as possible. The accordingly very drawn out conquests that resulted ironically had the Chancellor himself lauding them for their valiant and skillful defense that was tying down elite Davion units for far longer than any other units that had stood in the path of the Davion juggernaut.
But even as half of the Highlanders went into battle, the CCAF sent orders for the remaining two units of the Highlanders to shift to Wei to form part of a task force to counter-attack the Davion invasion, denying their requests to head up and relieve their comrades before it was too late. Unknowing of the Chancellors plans with RIPOSTE to crush the Davion supply lines and open a window to strike (due to the extreme compartmentalisation necessary) it seemed that the Chancellor was perfectly happy to leave their two engaged units alone to die, saluting their courage but not sending so much as one extra Mech. Compounding this, news started to flow through the Mercenary grapevine (pushed by Wolfnet) of the specifics of Wolf’s Dragoons falling out with the Draconis Combine, followed rapidly by news of the ‘Death to Mercenaries!’ order issued by the Coordinator which was exploding across the Draconis Combine with grim consequences to units in the Dragons employment. To say that this horrified and struck at the values of the Highlanders would be an understatement. Especially when the Eridani Light Horse and later the Kell Hounds were further named as having edicts of death declared against them by the Combine alongside the Dragoons.
The idea that the Eridani Light Horse of all units would ever stoop to the acts they were accused of was all but rejected out of hand. Scattered - but increasing - news down the Merc bush telegraph (as well as still ongoing messages from Northwind) of other units in the Combine being set upon simply for being Mercenaries led to the Highlanders sending a priority message to Archibald McCarron, suggesting the two of them send a joint message to the Chancellor to implore him to denounce the actions of the Combine against fellow Mercs and hopefully snap the Combine back.
McCarrons completely indifferent response to the events in the Combine as he worked to rush his units towards the front was half expected, but the Chancellor unknowingly missed his last chance to prove the Confederation was a nation worth serving when he ‘reassured’ the Highlanders by telling them he had sent a personal message to the Coordinator that he would buy out the contracts of any Mercenaries he otherwise would wish eliminated. Even offering to pay for them to be shipped to the Confederation in place of death - so long as they agreed to fight for him until against the Federated Suns until the debt was paid, of course.
Less than impressed by the response, the Highlanders took a serious look at their position. Half their forces looked sure to be wiped out without relief that the Chancellor refused to give and Davions massive invasion, even this early on, looked like it would be the end of the Confederation. With Northwind squarely sitting between the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth who were carving what would become the Terran Corridor out of the Combine and Confederation, it was clear that the new House Steiner-Davion would never tolerate the Capellans trying to get it back even if they did survive as it moved further and further behind ‘enemy’ lines.
And so ultimately, the Highlanders leaders made a fateful yet surprisingly practical decision. Stalling their departure from garrison positions to quietly prepare their dependents for departure with them, they decided to wash their hands of a house who clearly held little respect for them despite the blood they had shed for generations in its name. The most senior of the Highlander Colonels, Colonel Fiona Chattan, reached out to the Northwind Clan Elders through a one-time message code hidden inside their regular communications to request that they engage with the Federated Suns and seek terms for the Highlanders coming home and changing their allegiance. Emphatically noting that this included allowing their brothers and sisters already engaged with the AFFS to be allowed to withdraw safely and with honor (and their Mechs).
Expecting that it would take weeks at the very fastest for negotiations to reach a point where the Highlanders could leave with confidence, the Colonel was rather stunned when instead two days later a priority message returned from Northwind with utterly incredible news. The Elders of Northwind had been assigned an AFFS liaison from the Fifth Deneb Light Cavalry who was conveniently placed to approach with the Highlanders offer … only to be more than taken aback when after presenting the Highlanders offer, he immediately pulled a folder from his office safe and presented them an already signed offer from the First Prince himself that would become the foundation of what became ‘The Northwind Agreement’.
That an offer was already on the table was, suffice to say, shocking to the Highlanders officers.
That it effectively offered them everything they had asked for - and plenty more besides - was almost unbelievable to several of the dozen officers ‘in’ on the plans to the point that some wondered if MIIO had a spy among them somewhere - especially given that they had only made the offer days ago and after days of careful discussion!
Included also was a request to confirm their acceptance as soon as possible to ensure their sister units could be allowed to disengage safely from the shadow boxing that the AFFS could keep up only so long. And while some were suspicious of the incredibly generous terms, others pointed to the very similar help he had provided to the Dragoons to pull them out of the Dragons claws as credit of his trustworthiness (to say nothing of the fact that they all knew this would deny Liao four crack Regiments and give him four in turn which in anyone's book was worthy of considerable concessions). Thus, signaling their acceptance, the Highlanders lifted and took their dependents with them, leaving behind only carefully planted rumors that they were heading to retake their world once and for all and would gather their forces on the way.
Which was true … from a certain point of view.
The Highlanders Jumpships arrived at Northwinds Zenith point on January 3rd. Their triumphant homecoming parade through the streets of Tara to the literally millions of cheering civilians led by the massed pipes and drums of their regimental bands ended is of course one of the defining images of the 4th Succession War, but strategically more important was Major Mitchell McFarly taking the time the planet was busy ecstatically welcoming the Highlanders home to visit the local ComStar Hyperpulse generator station. There he sought and was granted a meeting with the local Precentor and proceeded to drop the signed paperwork into his lap that formally invoked several clauses in the Highlanders contract to terminate their relationship with House Liao before lodging the paperwork signed by Colonel Chattan and Marshal Green-Davion that registered the new contract signed with the AFFS.
To say that ComStars First Circuit were unhappy would be an understatement given their goals, but they dared not do anything about this situation given that the Highlanders had dotted all the I’s and crossed all the T’s in their paperwork, executing perfectly valid clauses in their contract to terminate it. Given that the sheer mess Precentor Myndo Waterly of Dieron had made of the Death to Mercenaries response that was currently causing a complete PR nightmare for the First Circuit (and Maximilians alliance with Takashi and refusal to condemn his allies actions had in fact been one of the cited reasons invoked by the Highlanders), they dared not make any trouble here which might move the considerable suspicion ComStar was being seen in right now by many Merc units into genuine hostility and a rejection of their critical perception as a neutral actor.
Ultimately, ComStar just processed the paperwork and forwarded the news to Sian. A personal note to the Chancellor addressed ‘We regret to inform you…’ clearly shocked and enraged His Celestial Wisdom after it was delivered to him, but he pushed past it for now and simply vowed to not to forget this treachery, perhaps wary of inciting his own ‘Death to Mercenaries’ blowback he could not in any way afford given the number of Merc units on his payroll.
Romano Liao however was said to have personally executed the servator who presented her with the news - especially as her Father had not even bothered to inform her that his orders had left her personal fief of Highspire horribly open to attack by ordering the Highlanders off anyway, an opening the AFFS soon took full advantage of to her considerable angst.
Time moved forward however and Maximilian did not have the time to fret. On the 4th of April, the tense relative silence of the Capellan front was shattered as the next wave of attacks were launched. The AFFS leaped forward once again as they moved to sweep up the last of the Terran region worlds. But only four days later on the 8th, the strategic situation took a twist as factions in the Free World League finally started to make their own moves … to the great detriment of the Capellan Confederation. And then on the 9th, the ‘Dragon’ of the Draconis Combine grew several more heads.
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‘Case: TARGARYEN’
Named for the three headed Dragon banner from the popular 21st century Vid series ‘Game of Thrones’ partially re-released in 3027, ‘Case TARGARYEN’ was the operational name for contingency planning dealing with House Kurita (the Dragon) finding itself with multiple factions (or heads) at war with themselves. One of a great many contingency plans that were prepared and updated throughout the 4th Succession War in the Fox’s Den, it was not so much a detailed plan of what to do as most others so much as a highly detailed database for field commanders to the anticipate first, second and third order consequences in the event that the Coordinators hold on power was challenged and boken. Key focal points were identified using extensive psyops modeling around the power structures and key personalities in the Combine updated with considerable new intelligence developed from 3026 onwards. More than anything else, the document was an attempt to give both strategic command and field commanders information and broad contingency planning to deal with the Combine starting to shoot at each other as much as they shot as the AFFS.
While to the outside world - and the lowest rungs of Combine society - House Kurita took great pains to present a monolithic face to the rest of the Inner Sphere, in reality the contemporary Governance of the Combine was finely balanced between the theoretically absolute power of the Coordinator and his family on one side and his four Warlords on the other. Nominally servants, but in reality faction leaders as powerful as the Princes of John Davions era in the Federation and far more ruthlessly ambitious. Threaded between them were the power structures and lesser players -official and unofficial- both looking to support their superiors … and to replace them. Unsurprisingly, this made the TARGARYEN case book one of the heftiest contingency plans in the entire 4th Succession war.
House Kurita had survived for centuries through careful preparation and a supremely ruthless ability to play factions off against each other when they couldn’t be bound loyally to the Throne and Takashi was no exception. Combined with a general population fully indoctrinated from birth to death to accept Kuritan Supremacy as the natural order of things and the Coordinator was undeniably at the top of that order. But throughout the 3026-3028 timeframe, Hanse Davion and Katrina Stiner put considerable effort into setting up Takashi for a rapid series of hammer blows to undermine the structures that put Takashi there, all timed to hit with maximum effect concurrent with the Steiner-Davion wedding.
The first impacts undeniably took place very early in 3026 after the successful raid against Helm that publicly netted incredibly valuable war materials - Lostech war materials no less!- but secretly and infinitely more critically, the Helm Memory Core. Quintus Allard and Simon Johnson painstakingly worked to ensure data leaked that the memory core had been ‘lost’ with the Nagayan Mountain complex to keep ComStar from any knee-jerk reactions, but also making it clear to their enemies just how incredibly valuable this cache could have been if Marik or Kurita had been able to get there first.
At the same time, the two leaders and their spymasters also laid out just enough ‘breadcrumbs’ to finger Archduke Hassid Ricol in the Combine and Duke Garth of Irian in the League as the sources of the FedCom information. Men known for their ambition who had been deep in independent plans to grab the cache without bothering to do anything so reasonable as informing their lieges of their intentions. Clearly, Davion and Steiner intended to drive (another) wedge between the two most powerful members of the Concord of Kapteyn who already had little to no love for each other - and in that it worked splendidly. But in a more subtle way it's clear that there was a hope that by ratting out the men responsible for leading the FedCom nations to the cache, they would in turn come under a microscope that laid bare their reasons for wanting such a cache and, hopefully, provoke a response from internal factions that would distract them about the time Hanse and Katrina were ready to move.
Suffice to say, the end result was quite possibly greater than even Hanse Davion may have hoped.
While SAFE were not able to quite get the level of proof needed for an open accusation (as the Duke of Irian proved very agile in destroying all evidence of his intentions and killing a few loose ends) enough was sniffed out by spies and fairweather friends in the court on Irian to more than convince Janos Marik of the Dukes intentions … yet it was simply not to prove it in a court of law, making an open accusation a very very dangerous thing in the mess that was League politics.
Worse, it became clear to the Captain General that Duke Garth had built a surprisingly broad amount of support across many of the smaller provinces and independent worlds - support that took him off guard. It meant that any move against him without overwhelming proof was fraught with risk of both sides rapidly bringing in more and more supporters and a full scale civil war breaking out.
Accordingly, Janos and Duke Garth worked to consolidate their positions and chip away at their opponents' support. Things started to move down a chillingly familiar path for Janos as it became clear just how much support Garth had, with the League Parliament serving as a proxy battleground as MPs acting for both sides while everyone tried in public (with increasingly strained expressions on faces) to pretend everything was normal as provinces and major worlds started to play their own games...
In the Combine however Ricol, perhaps in arrogance, did not realize how firmly in the Coordinators crosshairs he had been placed until it was far too late. In truth, the Duke was a member of one of the factions of the so-called Black Dragon Society with a personal code-name of ‘Ruby’. In a microcosm of the Combine itself, the Society worked to present themselves as a unified force against the Coordinator, but were riddled with sub-factions and groups often only vaguely aligned with each other - sometimes even with entirely clashing goals united only by an absolute desire to take down the Coordinator. It also seems clear that Ricol had been involved in a confused attempt to clearly eliminate at least Takashi Kurita and possibly Theodore Kurita in 3019 - one that he may have been double crossed in. Ricol escaped with his life and reputation intact thanks to some very rapid thinking -and a quick murdering of the only person who could link him to the conspiracy- but it is clear he had not given up his ambitions, highly dissatisfied with his position as a ‘mere’ Duke in charge of a half dozen worlds. And he spent much time looking to expand his domains, spending a considerable amount of time outside the Combine looking for opportunities, something that helped keep him off the ISFs radar.
If he had planned to raid Helm for his own ends, those of the Black Dragons - or indeed, even perhaps simply turn it over to House Kurita in exchange for considerable concessions? No-one will ever know for sure except MIIO and they to this day refuse to declassify the intelligence generated from The Red Duke outside of the most broad of strokes.
Unfortunately for Ricol, the Steiner/Davion press conference that alerted him to being in the crosshairs came roughly one week after a ‘vigorous’ exchange of notes between the Captain General and Coordinator. The lone ISF contact on backwater Helm (whom Ricols own agents had liberally engaged without bothering to ask for permission from the ISF) had already been picked up by SAFE and questioned. Worse, the local contact in question was not an ISF agent per se and she (when sufficient H-Bills were applied along with a ticket off Helm) proved perfectly happy to tell SAFE everything.
From there, the finger was pointed (via diplomatic channels) at Ricol by a furious Janos. Partially, to be sure, an attempt to domestically deflect the fact that the head of the Stewart Commonality was screaming in his ear at the fantastic value that had been lost to the Steiners thanks to an upstart Duke trying to snatch what was not his. Based on testimony from many people around the Captain General at that time, it seems clear that Janos strongly suspected that the Kuritas had been doing yet another of their ‘wink and nudge’ plays with a vassal ready to both take the blame if necessary or act through intermediaries while keeping the Coordinators hands perfectly clean from an operation he had authorised. And that ultimately, Takashi had simply been beaten to the punch by Steiner and Davion.
Suffice to say, the relationship between the two most powerful members of the Concord of Kapteyn that was strained even at the best of times turned somewhat frosty at both the accusations and angry denial. So much so that things had not appreciably improved even by the outbreak of the 4th Succession War and all at the low cost (for the FedCom powers) of giving up a Combine Noble that Katrina Steiner already held something of a minor grudge against.
For Takashi Kurita, while causing the Coordinator to lose face to Marik for an action he had in no way authorized or known about was far from a pleasing outcome, a more pressing question remained; what exactly had Ricol been doing going to Helm and raiding an ally of the Dragon in the first place?
Given that the very act was treason and going out on a limb himself for the contents just to turn them over to his liege seemed highly unlikely, at that point Subhash Indrahar moved in and set his people to watching Ricol closely. So when the news from Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner broke, the ISF simply observed as Ricol promptly panicked and started reaching out to a great many very interesting people (several of whom had already been under suspicion of being Black Dragons) - which was more than enough to convince the Coordinator exactly who he was working for. Ricol himself ended up being invited to Luthien and, in front of the assembled Warlords and Coordinator (clearly as an object lesson to the more ambitious of the Warlords) he was granted the ‘Honor of Wakizashi’ after -carefully- admitting to (and being only accused of) grossly overreaching his authority on behalf of his Lord in going for the Helm Cache. Of greatly embarrassing the Dragon in front of its allies too. Ricol paid with his life ... but his family and House were formally spared any blowback from his ‘failure’ on Helm as he nominally atoned and balanced the scales by offering his life.
In hindsight, it seems obvious that Takashi was trying to hide the fact that he knew about Ricols associates from said associates. By all accounts, the Black Dragons seemed to buy the deception and Indrahar took the once-in-a-century chance with both hands. Carefully but quietly moving to identify the links in the chain that both he and Takashi believed would terminate with Marcus Kurita.
But if that was his plan, it would come crashing down in rather spectacular fashion as 3028 arrived and the relative calm of 3027 was shattered under strife both internal and external the likes of which hadn’t been seen in the Combine in generations.
First of course was the Wolf’s Dragoons spectacular and highly public exit from the Combine. Kurita had seemingly been determined to force the Dragoons to make their permanent home in the Combine and had given Warlord Grieg Samsonov orders to this effect while applying subtle but increasing pressure from his end to press the Dragoons into compliance in a carrot-and-stick approach. It turned out to be a horrific miscalculation as the Dragoons firmly resisted the attempt at press ganging them into the Combines services through soft measures - and when Grieg Samsonov attempted to raise the stakes to the level of sending in an ISF strike team (posing as ‘patriotic civilians’) to seize the Dragoons Hephaestus space station and its crew as hostages, the Dragoons were ready. Having been forewarned of this exact plan by Hanse Davion himself through back channels, the Dragoons eliminated the ISF team (at the cost of six members of the 7th Kommando and some minor damage to the station that wouldn’t be fully repaired until it swung by Galax in 3032). And now primed with clear proof that the Combine were moving from simply pressuring them into joining the Combine into outright putting a gun to their heads, the Dragoons executed contingency plans put in place after their fallout with Anton Marik to get themselves out of Kuritan space. By the time Takashi Kurita received word of the events unfolding, they were far beyond even his ability to stop as the Dragoons blasted their way clear, sending their dependents to Robinson with their supporting forces and training command while all five Mech regiments and independent commands diverted to Misery. There they met up with their long suspected offshoot of Snords Irregulars who just so happened to have come all the way from the Lyran Commonwealth to the Draconis March. There, they drew a line in the sand and all but dared the Combine to come at them as their formal contract with the Draconis Combine reached its end.
The Battle of Misery (due to a combination of factors) turned into a complete fiasco for Samsonov and the Combine, leaving the Galedon Military District sucked dry of line units seemingly overnight. The AFFS also did their very best to help while the units were slugging it out on the aptly named planet, burning down critical supply bases on a half dozen Combine worlds now left uncovered and ‘liberating’ over a dozen near priceless Monolith, Star Lord and Invader class jumpships from the DCA to boot! While Grieg Samsonov had put the blame squarely (and not entirely unfairly) on Minobu Tetsuhara who led his command squarely into Wolf’s trap on the Opdal Glacial Fields, he vanished before the DEST teams stormed his palace to arrest him, leaving Takashi extremely alone politically given how deeply involved he had been in the fiasco.
Ironically, the wedding of the century on Terra actually seemed to provide something of a reprieve for him as the AFFS, per an agreement Hanse Davion had made with the House Kurita, would stand down to a defensive stance as the wedding approached and hold it for a month after its conclusion should Takashi attend. If not for that, surely Hanse would have launched a general offensive into Galedon on the spot but now he had a three month ceasefire at a minimum if he attended. Using it, he put orders into place to shift assets around and prepare for whatever attack he was sure would be coming his way from the Federation once the ceasefire ended. Stripping units from the Lyran border and Combine interior - including the 1st Sword of Light from Luthien itself - and transferring the highly competent Kester Hsiun Chi to lead Galedon in the place of the deserted Samsonov. And with things in motion, Takashi headed to Terra determined to show an implacable face to the Inner Sphere despite all recent setbacks.
This determination crashed straight into a very much alive, very much angry and very much ‘determined to do this in front of the entire assembled senior nobility of the Inner Sphere’ Jamie Wolf barely minutes after he had arrived at ComStars formal reception. Speaking in fluent Japanese of a grossly disrespectful cadence as fascinated nobles from all five Great Houses watched on, Wolf squarely laid the blame on the Coordinators shoulders for the events that had unfolded between the Dragoons and Combine. Scorning him him as either a lying murderer or a weak and incompetent ruler completly incapable of controlling his subordinates; Wolf cast the family swords of his friend and Takashi’s loyal-to-the-end minon Minobu Tetsuhara at his feet. Castigating him as utterly unworthy of the honor and loyalty his vassal had shown him, Wolf warned Takashi that his realm would pay a very special price for his betrayal and to watch his borders before storming away.
The loss of face in front of a good chunk of the Inner Spheres nobility would have been bad enough for House Kurita and absolutely guarantee an attempt to counter it by obliterating Wolf and his people (which was of course exactly what Hanse Davion and Jamie Wolf were counting on), but less than an hour later, Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner found themselves formally welcoming the Coordinator to Terraa and their wedding and things got much, much worse. Their conversation for a time was the expected pro-forma between great enemies gathered in nominal peace ... but it took a right turn off-script when a comment from the Coordinator (who was perhaps still somewhat shaken or off balance from Wolf’s enraged berating) regarding their recent history might have gotten a little too close to both the ‘Ian Davion’ button and the recent attempted kidnapping of Melissa herself.
It was not a faux pas that could be easily dismissed, what with Yorinaga Kurita not far away in the middle of a polite but rather intense discussion with Morgan Kell … and it resulted in Hanse Davion taking the opportunity of an opening to warmly congratulate Takashi on his newest grandchild. Noting that a granddaughter named after the woman who had compiled the Dictum Honorium was a bold choice, almost as bold as Theodore naming his first legitimate child Hohiro after his own father. And almost impishly noting that he and Melissa had considerable ‘work’ to do to catch up - earning him a jab from his fiance that shut him up before she added her own sincere congratulations.
Takashi Kurita held his composure astonishingly well ... given that this was actually all very much news to him.
It was well known in the Luthien Court by then that Theodores unwillingness to entertain his father's attempts to arrange marriages had strained relations for years. The breaking point had been after the aforementioned Black Dragon attempt on their lives in 3019 where Theodore's betrothed was caught up by her father's undeniable involvement in the plot and executed over Theodores most stringent and angry objections - alongside the rest of her family. Despite her clear innocence and ignorance of the plot.
The rift between father and son was torn wide open at that point and Theodore had flatly refused every attempt to set him up since then and Takashi in turn exiled him with a ‘promotion’ to lead the Legions of Vega - where Theodore unsurprisingly thrived and generated fanatical loyalty from his subordinates as ‘one of them’. But even Tasashi had probably never thought that his Son would go so far ‘in revenge’ as to marry and have no less than three children (by two women!) in secret. Such an action was no less than a direct challenge to the very authority of the Coordinator and his rights as the head of House Kurita to order his children to marry as he saw fit. Even the Heir.
Especially the Heir in fact.
Surprisingly from what can be pieced together with the power of hindsight, while his father was understandably angry at Davions revelation that his son would have done something so foolishly rebellious simply to spite him, he was actually far more alarmed that the only way Theodore could have kept this enormous secret from him given the number of spies Takashi supposedly had in place around him, is if Subhash Indrahar (his ISF chief) and Constance Kurita (the head of O5P) were deliberately keeping this truth from him.
Just like that, one of the most critical legs of the chair that kept Takashi Kurita at the top of the pile of seething ambition that was the Combines government had just been kicked out from under him as Takashi realized he could not trust his spymasters.
Yet the Coordinator, most impressively, showed none of this. With astonishing poise, Takashi offered a few more brief exchanges of plesenteries before declaring he would retire for the night while ordering his cousin to remain and represent House Kurita in his place as he returned to his suite of quarters - and so it is claimed, he promptly collapsed.
There is no formal record of the exact events that followed but it is undeniable Takashi Kurita suffered some kind of medical episode - a micro-stroke being by far the most likely - brought on by extreme stress. A crack medical team from the Physicians of the Dragon acted swiftly in extreme privacy enforced by the Otomo - so much so that even ComStar did not know what was going on under their noses until years later - and managed to keep Takashi ‘active’ through the visit, albeit with his social activities cut back to the absolute minimum possible to attend without losing face. Taken at the time as a calculated mild snub to his hosts.
However he did take the time in response to Wolf’s goading to issue his ‘Death to Mercenaries' decree the very next day and sent it via ComStar, at considerable expense, to all worlds of the Combine and all units of the DCMS. Something which would cause major headaches for many of his subordinates when it was sprung on them with no warning (and a whole new kind of ‘misery’ for other Mercenary units in service to the Combine).
Next came of course the legendary wedding reception itself, after which the Combine left Terra immediately correctly anticipating that war would be coming to the Combine. However before leaving, he did again have a large number of HPG messages sent out from Terra directly, bypassing his chains of command by having ComStar send them personally to specific people. One of which being an uttermost priority message to his son demanding he immediately come to Luthien with his wife and all of his children.
Alas, when his dropship arrived at Luthien via the command circuit on September the Ninth, waiting for him was only the grim news that his only child and Heir Theodore, was dead at the hands of Patrick Kell and the Kell Hounds in the opening wave of attacks.
For almost any parent, being forced to bury their only child would be a horrible burden and Takashi had more than enough of those already. The Coordinator perhaps took some solace in the fact that by all reports his son had met his death like a true Kurita, fighting hard against hopeless odds and finally confronting the enemy CO in a fair duel that he lost, taking his own life by his own hand with his own sword rather than becoming a prisoner of the Lyran Commonwealth.
Even so, evidence strongly suggests that Takashi had a second micro-stoke on the burn in from the jump point to his capital at the news, requiring more extreme medical intervention to keep him up and active.
Nonetheless, utterly driven to not lose face as a week of national mourning and vengeance for Theodore was declared, Takashi walked off his dropship looking perfectly normal (thanks to the most robust medical support possible). His first official act upon returning home and with unseemly curtness moving through the ceremonial greeting of his household was to order the Kell Hounds (despite polite but intense private protests from Yorinaga Kurita) to be added to the Death for Mercenaries edict, before sending his cousin to bring both Subhash Indrahar and Constance Kurita to a private audience chamber.
The events of the meetings are not entirely understood, but a broadly accepted picture of events has been put together from various sources.
For Indrahar, Takashi simply dismissed him from his position. It would appear that Takashi accepted his oldest friend's assertion that he had hidden the truth of his Son’s family after finding out only to prevent deepening the schism between Father and Son at a time the Combine could simply not afford it. Accordingly, Takashi essentially ‘exiled’ him to a desk job on New Samarkand with his remit narrowed only to focusing on the threat of the Black Dragons and eliminating them entirely - a task that would be impossible to ever finish of course. Serving to exile him while still making use of his exceptional talents in service of House Kurita.
Ironically this also put him squarely in the line of fire when Natasha Kerensky visited the world in 3029 and it was only by the skin of his teeth that Indrahar avoided being quite literally stepped on as the Black Widow smashed her Warhammer through one side of the ISF headquarters building and out the other. More than that though, his absence from Luthien would prove catastrophic in the coming year and open up a window of opportunity that the Black Dragons would not hesitate to take advantage of.
Constance Kurita however suffered a harsher punishment. She was removed from her position that afternoon as Keeper of the Family Honor then thrown into an ISF cell (without offering any resistance or protest) when she refused to provide Takashi the location of Takashi’s grandchildren and his apparent daughter-in-law. The Coordinator clearly did not accept her protests that she did not know where they were. Only the fact that she was also the daughter of Marcus Kurita probably stayed his hand to not do anything more than order her arrested - for now. Although the ISF, out of a rare showing of professional courtesy, quietly worked to make her ‘stay’ as comfortable as they could, most likely on final orders from the still extremely respected Indrahar.
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Finally, after dismissing the minimal court and returning to his chambers, Yorinaga is known to have approached his cousin and after some discussion, gained permission for a ‘deep strike’ against the Davions. He already had plans advanced to gather and reforge the last of the Ryuken into an auxiliary unit attached to his own and he now presented his plans to jump the border and start an intense and rapid raiding campaign behind the Davion front line.
Takashi, after consideration, seemingly eventually agreed with his cousin and gave him leave to attack the Federated Suns. Ordering him to cause the maximum possible disruption to keep Davion off his back, while the Coordinator would focus his attention on the Dragoons (who Yorinaga would hopefully isolate from any help) and the Warlords threw back Steiner.
It is highly doubtful that Takashi gave explicit permission for him to run all the way to New Avalon, throwing away his units as well as several Jumpships and Dropships for a high-profile but ultimately futile attack on the enemy capital … but seemingly trusting his cousin's judgement now that he had moved past his obsession with Morgan Kell, he had orders sent to Kester Hsiun Chi to launch against the Dragoons at once, refusing to accept any more requests for delays to rebuild his defenses and reminding him that boldness in the attack and seizing the initiative was the best form of defense right now.
In any event, Yorinaga left Luthien almost at once (impressively he had already shifted his unit to Misery on his own authority with the ISF successfully hiding this fact from Davion spies) but there was one last Kurita to visit Takashi on this evening.
Chandrasekhar Kurita was a more distant relative who had been exiled from the court by Takashi, on the grounds of him seemingly refusing to take anything seriously. However, hiding behind his eccentric persona was an incredibly sharp and keen mind that saw only the long game, with massive public business interests that would easily have put him in the top fifty richest men in the Combine. Although in reality, like an iceberg, his ‘public’ interests were simply what he allowed to be seen with the far greater bulk of his power and resources remaining hidden and dispersed across the Inner Sphere making him secretly one of the ten richest men in the entire Inner Sphere who was not a House Lord, with a vast information network through his ventures that brought a considerable amount of information to his attention.
Unlike Ricol however who was often his closest point of comparison, he remained loyal to House Kurita and had been especially close to Theodore. And despite the lateness of the hour and his own fatigue, Takashi granted him an audience … and was probably rather surprised when, along with his loyal wife Jasmine Isu, Takashi found himself being presented his two ‘legitimate’ grandchildren; Hohiro Kurita and Omiko Kurita. Along with their mother and his daughter in law, Tomoe Sakade.
Takashi was by all accounts quite pleased with the two children, perhaps due to lingering regrets about the way things had ended with his son - or just like most grandparents throughout history, being immediately bewitched by his incredibly young grandchildren and especially the toddler ‘Omi’. Trusting them for now into the care of their grandmother to rest from their long voyage, he instead took the opportunity to closely interrogate his new daughter-in-law, after silently reading her DCMS record that Chandrasekhar had passed to him before excusing himself.
It is almost certainly apocryphal given the lack of any primary evidence support, yet it seems taken almost as fact by the Combine that Takashi tested his Sons widow by promptly ordering her banished from his home and barring her from ever seeing her children again. Naming her a peasant of no birth who had polluted the Kuritan bloodline that he would try to salvage. Sakade (supposedly) in response laid out four of his crack bodyguards in less than five seconds when they tried to grab her, before holding the Coordinator himself at gunpoint with one of their weapons and freezing the reaction team that burst in in their tracks. With utter seriousness belaying the auto pistol pointing at the Coordinators head, the younger woman informed him that she was in fact descended from the original Prince of Rasalhague as well as the pre-coup union of Duncan Cameron and Johanna Kurita. And that she also had no intention of abandoning her children.
After a long moment of Silence, the Coordinator -supposedly- laughed aloud and congratulated her for passing the test and offered her at once a position both in his household and a transfer, given her undeniably impressive DCMS record, into the Otomo. With her first assignment decreed by him to be remedial hand-to-hand training for his bodyguards, who had clearly proven slightly less impressive than he had hoped. With Sakade promptly surrendering her weapon back to the rather miffed bodyguards, prostrating herself and swearing her allegiance to Takashi and House Kurita.
It should be noted again there are no primary sources which back up these events. All that can be said for sure is that Sakade became officially a part of the Kuritan household at this time, albeit a quiet part in the background with little to no public profile.
One week later however, Takashi’s attempts to keep medicating past his health problems in the high-stress environment while maintaining his activity resulted in the inevitable; a far more serious stroke. One that left him unconscious in an induced coma as the fate of the Inner Sphere was decided. An absolutely iron-clad security lockdown around the Palace of Unity was invoked to hold the truth in place with the ISF working hard using dozens of carefully pre-recorded generic messages that Takashi, with great foresight, had recorded on the trip back from Terra designed to be pieced together in case he became incapactied. House Kurita was undeniably at its most vulnerable in centuries with the Coordinator at death's door, his son dead and his new and untested new heir Hohiro over a decade away from being able to take the throne.
In Takashi’s place, a secret council nominally chaired by Chandrasekhar Kurita issued orders in the Coordinators name and kept up the illusion Takashi was saddened and withdrawn by his son's death but working hard to rally the DCMS, throw back the Steiners and redress the grievous insults of the Dragoon war criminals.
It is clear that, eventually, the Warlords found out the truth through their network of contacts, but none moved to act - at least not yet. The pell-mell rush to the Throne that might have (would have) been imagined in normal times was prevented by the simple strategic reality of the war with the Warlords of Benjamin, Dieron and Rasalhague fighting for their lives on one hand against the fact that Chandrasekhar quickly started to do a rather good job, supporting them while letting them run their theaters. The new Warlord of Galedon, Kester Hsiun Chi, was busy trapped in his own nightmare as his initial attempts to rebuild had been all but thrown away by a micromanaging Takashi into the jaws of the Wolf while in Chi’s former district of Pesht, the young new Warlord Hogo Manati showed his loyalty to Luthien by squeezing everything he could out of the interior regions of the Combine to support the front lines. Although his enthusiastic efforts of trying to get more blood from a stone did start to cause disruptions to the social harmony of the Combine that would only grow over time.
Even so, it seemed, on the surface, that the entire Combine leadership was rallying to face the threat together.
But only on the surface.
The first hint that something was wrong came when Kester Hsiun Chi found that a large force of units he had been able to painfully pull together on Marlowe's Rift had vanished, to his considerable anger as they left behind not a clue where they had gone. This sudden movement was also detected by DMI across the border who had been watching the gathering force and in response Archduke Sandoval ordered the Eridani Light Horse to shift forward, ready to counter any new attacks …
But none came.
All five units instead appeared in orbit of Luthien on the 8th of April under the command Grieg Samsonov.
Perhaps unfairly looked down upon in 3040s history books as an enraged buffoon whose greatest skill was blaming everyone else for his failures, the truth is that Grieg Samsonov was an accomplished leader who reached his post mostly on genuine merit. His district had higher productivity than any other and showed a greater ability to bounce back from losses as the 3rd Succession War dragged on. He retained (perhaps surprisingly) high loyalty from his troops and his reputation as a Battlefield commander was solid, if lacking the awe and genius of contemporaries such as Yorinaga Kurita.
While it is certainly true he had enough ambition for all five Warlords and if ‘betrayed’ would level entire star systems, he was also not kept around by the Coordinator so long because he was an ambitious fool either. And after fleeing the immediate consequences of the Battle of Misery one step ahead of the ISF (who had been ordered to arrest him and bring him -or his head if it was absolutely necessary- to Luthien), it seemed that Samsonov was at some point approached by and accepted an alliance with the biggest faction of the Black Dragon society, seeing little to lose by throwing in with a possible new order.
As the political situation on Luthien deteriorated, Samsonov made his dramatic re-entry by approaching the units trying to pull themselves together on Marlowe's Rift, three of whom were at roughly sixty percent strength and with absolutely no supplies feeding through the ruins of the district's logistics network. Known personally to the officers of the 8th Sword of Light, Samsonov’s arrival with dropships filled with significant logistics support from the Black Dragons (via Yakuza middlemen) clearly threw the officers for a bit of a loop given the orders out to detain him, but earned him at least a seat at the table to explain himself and he took maximum possible advantage.
By all accounts, his presentation was very slick as Samsonov lied through his teeth with the truth. Starting with revealing the true state of the Coordinators health and what was happening on Luthien, accusing Chandrasekhar of launching what amounted to a palace coup to place Theodores mixed-blood bastards onto the Throne - presuming they even were Theodore's children of course - while Takashi was unconscious. That he would effectively seize power for himself in the childrens name, using them as a figurehead and disposing of Takashi with a ‘turn for the worse’ at a convenient time. He supported his arguments with entirely valid evidence proving people were using pre-recorded videos to maintain the illusion of his activity and that all the orders in the name of Takashi they were receiving were nothing of the sort, but were from a council of fools trying to rule the Combine from the shadows.
It certainly did not hurt his case that almost all of the senior officers present who knew of Chandrasekhar knew only the reputation he had cultivated which was about as far from the conventional image of a strong noble leader of the Draconis Combine as it was possible to be. The thought of him secretly leading the Combine during its greatest crisis without having been formally given the position by the Coordinator was a slap in the face to the members of the 8th (whom the other units looked to for their lead) and when added to the unsavory rumors about Theodore himself that had led to his exile …
It was not, therefore, in the end terribly hard for Samsonov to paint himself -and those who stood with him- as patriots standing up for the Combine in its darkest hour to save their Coordinator. Even more so because, probably to the surprise of many present, he was not seeking the throne (or a regency for the Coordinator) for himself but acting in service to a far more ‘worthy’ candidate. And even as Samsonovs unit started their drops onto Luthien, Marcus Kurita (who had been very solidly frozen out of the shadow Government for the very good reason that none of those involved trusted him) was already moving. Having led the Otommo for years it was quite easy for him to convince enough of them that he was acting in the best interests of the Combine and, accordingly, it would be for the best if he took a regency in Takashi’s name, very carefully presenting himself as simply defending Takashi’s interests and not looking to the Throne himself.
At least not yet.
Thus, with the Otommo in turn remaining formally neutral and withdrawing their attention entirely to guarding the Coordinator until his recovery, the way was clear, with only the ‘children of Theodore’ were in his way.
Tomoe Sakade however was warned by O5P agents as Marcus started to move and with the help of a handful of the Otommo who chose to side with her and the ‘true heirs’, she managed to gather both her children and vanish into the night with ‘Uncle Chandy’, taking a fast dropship away from Luthien. Several aerospace lances of Chandrasekhar’s personal guard sacrificed themselves to ensure they made it away clean to a jumpship waiting at a pirate point when Samsonovs incoming forces diverted some of their own aerospace units in a probably futile attempt at a tail chase, with Marcus and Samsonov secretly blaming the other for letting the children and Chandrasekhar slip out of their fingers.
Even so, while Marcus Kuritas victory was not complete (and the escape of Theodore's children would ultimately be his undoing), it did mean at least on Luthien he took control swiftly. The ISF’s leadership was in chaos and this kept them out of the way during the crucial time period of Marcus and his Black Dragon allies consolidating their power. A situation not helped by the near destruction of their ancient headquarters on New Samarkand and sheer chaos that was causing their operations.
O5P too were far from helpful to Marcus, even after the Keeper of the Family Honor and titular head Constnace (Marcus Kuritas daughter) was released and restored by the Regent. All without realizing that it was in fact she who secretly passed on the warning to Sakade that let her escape and that O5P would be a silent thorn in his side in trying to find Theodore's children and those who started to support them.
In the short term Marcus was able (with surprising smoothness carefully cultivated support from the Luthien court led by Black Dragon members across the planet) to seize the reins of power. The next day, broadcasts went out across the Combine to all worlds and Warlords openly stating the truth of Takashi’s current incapacity to the general public, but reassuring them that a strong Kurita was now standing firm as his regent until the Dragon recovered. Including footage of Marcus prostrating himself before the bed ridden Takashi and pledging his life for Takashis of course. Marcus also used the speech to name the beaming Grieg Samsonov Gunji-no-Kanrei Gunji of the DCMS, with a remit to bring order and coordination sorely lacking to the Combines struggle against their enemies as they turned their own technology against them. Topping off the message was a cross to a live feed of a DCMS Dragon from Luthien Armor Works showing off its own new Triple Strength Myomers with its speed and power evident. Built entirely by new lines setup in the Combine (through truly herculean efforts by Chandrasekhar’s people Marcus took credit for it should be noted), the unsaid message to the Warlords that if they wanted this they needed to play ball was heard loud and clear.
It was a message that would be rather well ignored. CASE TARGARYEN would be declared on the 11th of April by the AFFS.
It would not be rescinded until 3036.
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The Eagle takes flight
To say that the Free Worlds League was divided over what their response should be to the outbreak of the 4th Succession War would be of probably little surprise to anyone, least of all themselves. The strongest voice for joining in on the war on the side of the Concord of Kapteyn was from the Duchy of Tamarind, with Prime Minister Otho Korituk insisting that now was the time to strike towards Bolan. However he was a very notable minority in his enthusiasm as even longtime allies in such thoughts like the Silver Hawks Coalition and Stewart Commonality were surprisingly cool on the idea.
There are several reasons to point at for their lack of support of course. One was purely strategic; the sheer mass of the Lyran and Suns assaults were almost unprecedented in their power and force, making it clear that Katrina and Hanse were ‘playing for keeps’ and were operating a scale that would clearly take a national response to coordinate. Even the vaunted DCMS was being torn to pieces and the wild rumors of ‘Lyran SuperMechs’ (with carefully organized LIC leaks to make it clear that units remaining facing the Free Worlds League were also being upgraded with the TSM technology) added a whole layer of ambiguity. Ergo, the ‘Hawks and Commonality publicly took the stance that patience and time would give a better chance for the Free Worlds League to jump into the fight fresh when the other powers were exhausted - and that it would take a national response, not a few border provinces, to get them to move on that.
It also didn’t help that the Draconis Combine had with their ‘Death to Mercenaries' order earned the ire of Kristen Marik, the Captain General's daughter and an aspiring mercenary herself. A public statement denouncing the Combine publicly for their vile actions no doubt increased the Captain Generals headache, even if she nominally held no formal title or position, the media gave her words considerable play. And with both the Free Worlds Leagues allies reputations being dragged through the mud, public sentiment for simply staying out of the war was riding quite high, no matter how many messages Maximilian sent Janos demanding assistance.
But in truth, the main reason there was little enthusiasm for pushing into the Lyran Commonwealth is that the power players in the Free Worlds League were far more interested in events inside their borders than outside it when they were under no clear threat themselves.
While Lord Garth of Irian had failed to get his hands on the Helm cache, he had also been shrewd (and fast) enough to ensure that he was not caught red-handed in his intentions. It might have been taken as a foregone conclusion by the Captain General and his close allies that he had indeed been planning to use the equipment to put his ambitions for a much higher post than he currently held, but, without anything like the hard evidence to prove it, there was little that Janos Marik could do. Especially as it became increasingly clear that Garth had a huge support base through many of the ‘lesser’ provinces and independent worlds that no-one had anticipated - as well as a strong ally in Dame Catherine Humphreys and Andurien who had put considerable resources into the remarkable rebuilding of Irian BattleMechs Unlimited (that the Captain Generals troops had destroyed to deny to Anton during the civil war - a sore point to many people on the planet).
In the aftermath of Helm, Garth seemingly settled in for the long term and decided he could only go forward, not back. The block that Garth had formed could be broadly said to be anti-Capellan and with his Helm project ruined, he seized on it as a wedge issue and pushed, perhaps inspired by Cranston Snord's Trolling masterpiece on Nestor during the Helm covering raids. For all the border worlds history and hate of the back-and-forth with the Lyran Commonwealth (and the clear fact that Cranston Snord was, yet again, taking the opportunity to tweak the Captain General at a distance), the giant ‘artwork’ got incredible play in the media on worlds closer to the Confederation. The reminder that their leader had gotten into bed with a man who had eagerly supported his brother only a few years back trying to steal his throne?
Seemingly overnight even as the Free Worlds League struggled to come to grips with the events on Helm, Garth had become leader of the ‘loyal’ opposition to the Concord and the leader of the anti-Capellan block that Dame Humphreys had nominally led (and seemingly had no problems with him taking on). And as the Captain General dared not publicly accuse him without hard proof, Garth ruthlessly took every opening he could to reposition himself and discourage Janos from sending in Federal troops to just kill him and be done with it, lest he touch off a second civil war.
Of course, Garth also had more than a few enemies; most notably the Captain General himself but also an understandably furious opponent in Earl Hector Stewart. Leader of the Stewart Commonality and speaker of the Federal Parliament who used every trick in the book to cut support away from Irian with limited success, counter-balanced directly by the Silver Hawk’s who chose to support Irian, being no friends of the Confederation. The Duchy of Oriente, while nominally neutral in the entire glaring match, had absolutely no desire to jump into a war on behalf of House Liao and little care for taking on House Steiner and opinion polls taken there were rather receptive to most of the sentiments pushed by Garth's faction. The Principality of Regulus, just to be contrary, decided to proclaim a motion of support for the Captain General … apparently just because he was doing a good job, given that there was ‘officially’ nothing to support him over. And unsurprisingly Marik was firmly behind Janos. Most of the remaining provinces also did their best impersonation of denying there was any issue at all inside the Free Worlds League, while privately making it clear that they didn’t want anything to do with this … unless it was in their advantage to do so, while independent worlds support tended to be measured by how close they were to the Confederation.
This left the Captain General in the most curious position of publicly supporting an alliance he hated, supporting a war he refused to actually commit to and finding himself in a political tug of war with a man who wanted his job to do exactly what he wished he could do.
The calculus shifted even more in late 3028 when Hanse Davion publicly announced the truth about operation Doppelganger to the Inner Sphere. The primary audience was of course the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth, but it was fair enough to say it hit like a lightning bolt across much of the Free Worlds League. Hanse Davions war was reframed almost overnight and Garth wasted no time at all in having his allies in Parliament scathingly point out on the very next sitting day that while the Captain General had seemingly decided to forgive and forget Maximilian inciting his little civil war, Hanse Davion at least had the guts to take the attempt made on him and repay the Liao. With interest!
There was of course the expected back and forward at that, but it was when a young MP from Zion, Casandra Knight, stood up that things moved into a new paradigm entirely as she asked the question of how they knew that Hanse Davion was the only one to have suffered from this? Wondering aloud how they could be sure that the Anton Marik who one day decided to rise up in rebellion … had really been Anton Marik? How did they know that he hadn't been the original prototype of Doppelganger and the real Anton not tortured for everything he knew and disposed of afterwards, as had almost been Hanse Davion’s fate?
The young MP of course had not the slightest evidence and on the face of it, the accusation should have been dismissed out of hand. But in the new reality of Hanse Davion’s terrifyingly perfect duplicate, the accusation landed like a crashing Overlord onto the floor of the parliament. After a shocked silence lasting several seconds, a shouting match erupted in which the nominal ‘Garth’ faction were joined with increasingly broad support as they threw themselves with full voice behind that question until Hector Stewart shut down the floor for the day and suspended parliament for the rest of the week in a rather transparent attempt to buy time.
It was a futile effort of course as the Free Worlds League media erupted into an utter frenzy on the back of Hanse Davions revelation. The Capellan ambassador tried to rubish the accusation - and undermined his entire attempt by repeating, almost verbros, the official House Liao line that Doppelganger was a complete lie word for word, refusing to engage on the subject no matter what evidence his host presented from suspiciously rapidly delivered press kits from the Federated Suns that destroyed his credibility and only ramped up the accusations and suspicions almost to the level of paranoia in some parts.
If LIC or MIIO had any hand in pouring fuel into this fire is still unclear, but it is undeniable that the idea spread like wildfire across the League and public opinion was firmly against helping the Capellan Confederation. The Captain General’s refusal to condemn the Combine for Death to Mercenaries or the Confederation for Doppelganger only played into Garth's hands until finally in January even as RIPOSTE was going in, the Captain Generals hand was forced and he decreed that the Free Worlds League would not attack either of the FedCom powers unless attacked in turn. While noting that they still reserved the right to provide economic and logistical support to their allies. The Captain General made little secret of his contempt for the Chancellor trying for yet another civil war in his enemies, but equally not wanting to make any rash decisions, he fought to keep the Free Worlds League out of the war.
As compromises went, his decision undercut the increasing noises in parliament to openly begin legislating to terminate the Free Worlds Leagues participation in the Concord of Kapteyn, but it hardly did anything to calm the border regions which were seeing the AFFS crushing the Confederation and, frankly, wanting to get in on the ‘fun’. Even the Captain General's own advisors pointed out the stark strategic fact that if the Federated Commonwealth were able to heavily damage the DCMS and shater the Confederation not simply militarily but politically, it would leave the Free Worlds League badly isolated and instead of having one weaker and one strong nation on the border, they would have a unified mega-nation surrounding it that would have control of the Confederation on top of their own industries, glaring across the borders at them because of who they had chosen to stand with. And if - somehow - the Confederation survived, they would certainly be unhappy with them abandoning them at the crunch anyway.
In short, the Captain General had to pick a side.
Incredibly, Janos refused to act - perhaps fixated on his internal issues and not wanting to deploy his Federal and loyalist troops into a battle they might not want to fight. And given that at this point in time Hanse Davion had ‘only’ taken thirty worlds from the Confederation and there were debates as the delay after the 3rd wave grew if he would continue the push, the Captain General held firm to his guns and refused to act, instead refocusing his efforts on trying to splinter Garth’s support base. Unknown to him however, Garth had been in secret contact with the leaders of the Federated Commonwealth from later 3028. Via an elaborate courier chain into the Lyran Commonwealth of still unknown methods that somehow managed to evade even the intense net SAFE had thrown around him. Through this chain, he received assurances and concluded several agreements on behalf of the Free Worlds League. And with them in place, Garth decided to take his plan to the next level.
The Captain General had been found wanting by many actors in the Free Worlds League, seemingly paralyised and unable to either make a decision to support his ‘allies’ or break away from them. And while Gath had long since lost his support for a straight play at the Captain Generals throne, he had been reborn as a Champion of the Free Worlds League against the Concord they were trapped in, seeking to build a new powerbase with considerable success in that space as the Captain General ground his teeth and fruitlessly tried to find evidence with which he could hang the man.
But finally, through the first months of 3029, more and more reports from SAFE came in insisting that Garth was rallying his forces and allies for a major move. The Captain General did what he could to dissuade any rash actions and urge this stupidity to end, but in April news came back to Atreus that at least fourteen provincial Battlemech units were on the move, including several Mercenary units and a large number of support forces - and possibly even two Federal units!
The Captain General ordered all his allies to full military readiness even though it would take weeks for them to arrive at the capital or any other ‘friendly worlds’ … but it proved unnecessary.
The first units to hit the Capellan Confederation went in on the 8th of April; all three Sirian Lancer regiments arriving at their homeworld and wasting no time in launching a full scale invasion to ‘reclaim’ the world the Confederation had ‘reclaimed’ just prior to the Concord being signed.
They were not alone in launching attacks.
Two units of the Defenders of Andurien jumped into the Zenith point of Betelgeuse and started a full burn for that planet even as additional units hit Sigma Mare and Latice which were all but undefended and took them with barely a shot fired from the local militia. A near dozen units scraped together by other worlds along the border jumped in as well, albeit over the next two weeks as jumpships had to shuttle back and forward, with Federal units staying put and watching in a mixture of shock and awe as the border erupted.
Raids in the Terran Corridor, targeting the Dutchys in the Tikonov Commonality as yet not targeted by Hanse Davion found surprisingly weak resistance and indeed, in four cases, the local units outright defected to the League troops with incredible speed. It would later be confirmed negotiations had taken place between Davions 3rd and 4th Waves with the worlds and units on them, with the ‘League’ representatives pointedly noting they had the choice of joining the Free Worlds League, or, being crushed under Hanse Davions stylish boots and spurs. In fact, Hanse Davion himself had given his consent to the Free Worlds League in general to attack all the border Dutchys without any contest - with a singular exception for the world of Outlook, which the Federated Suns claimed, albeit with a concession to hand it over by 3035 (in hindsight they very clearly knew about and wished to loot the significant industrial assets that had gone unlocated since the fall of the Star League).
Only on the worlds of Tall Trees and Hall was there any real fighting - and then not directed at the Free Worlds League. The Maskirovka seemingly getting wind of the plans of the locals to outright defect attempted to do the unthinkable and open up the weapons vaults of the ancient genetic research facility that had been the development site of the New Tierra del Fuego II Plague, with plans to ‘salt the Earth’ and punish the population who were so eager to betray their Chancellor.
Mission orders would later confirm in fact that they were supposed to move the weapons offworld and back to Sian where they would form part of the ‘special weapons’ cache to be held in reserve as a last ditch defensive option against Davion, but were taken off guard by the planets sudden decision to defect when the Free Worlds League troops arrived and started to burn inbound. The Tall Trees Militia moved to stop them and were only partially successful; a single missile managed to airburst over the city of Helena and would result in the deaths of over eight million people, although six other targeted cities were saved by truly heroic work by the militia. The Free Worlds League moved in quickly to bring what support they could, but an undeniable resentment would stir in the population for the catastrophic losses as a result of the League troops arriving. Albeit, with far more hate directed towards the ‘Monster on Sian’.
Concurrent with the launching of the attacks, a broadcast from Lord Garth was disseminated to all Free Worlds League media stations on the capital, provincial capitals and key worlds - and would from there be quickly spread to the rest of the League. Standing with a dozen powerful figures from Provinces and Worlds bordering the Confederation, Garth announced that history was on the move and the entire Inner Sphere was being reshaped. And as the Captain General was refusing to accept this, it fell upon true patriots to act.
He did take pains to stress that he was not Anton, nor was he seeking the Captain Generalship (a statement that no doubt incurred a great deal of scorn from a great many Nobles). Rather, he insisted that he and those with him were launching an operation to eliminate one of the greatest threats to the Free Worlds League once and for all. A war of retribution against the Confederation for what they had done to the Free Worlds League and Anton Marik, condemning the Captain General for his cowardice as he broke bread with a man who had either backed his brothers bid for the Throne or, far worse, stolen his brother away and replaced him with a twisted mockery under his control like he had come so close to doing with Hanse Davion.
And that if the Captain General had no interest in avenging his brother and the League, then they would as they would no longer tolerate the insanity of existing with House Liao, but would help put him down like the mad dog he was.
At the same time, he acknowledged that they did not have the strength to take on the Confederation themselves, but with the Federated Suns now launching their next waves of attacks, they could make a very good start, calling upon the rest of the Free Worlds League to follow - and for the Captain General to lead them into this battle as was his role. That unless he wanted the Federated Commonwealth alone to redraw the map of the Inner Sphere, the time was now to move forward as one nation and let history be their judge for the sake of their children and their children's children!
Twenty Four hours later later, Oriente (who had seemingly held back their own forces at their jump points to see what would really happen) launched an invasion of the world of Jasmine with quite overwhelming force with two units of the Fusiliers of Oriente backed up with two Mercenary units, clearly looking to minimise their footprint to defend, while still clearly pulling a seat out at Garth's table … and establishing a foothold in the Confederation only two Jumps from Sian itself as everyone wondered what course Janos Marik would now take.
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>Squee!<
An interlude just dropped at Spacebattles - I was there minutes after - and its - just - perfect.
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And the butterfly's wings keep on beatin'. Good chapter.
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Bravo! Truly epic in scope.
What a mess ... for some.
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Beautifully crafted!
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GREAT WORK!
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John's ultimate change to the Inner Sphere can be felt everywhere. I look forward to see what would happen if the Clans got a whiff of what was happening.
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I just can not wait to see when more Lvl two tech hits the "scene"
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Liao's on the ropes, and heading for "Sic Semper Tyrannus".
Combine's about to go fratricidal.
Free Worlds is trying to resist snatching victory from the jaws of indifference, with another civil war being warmed up.
Who needs L2 tech? :)
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Jesus, what a series of posts! Excellent work here Chris! :thumbsup:
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Excellent stuff! Superbly written as always and the Confederacy is about to become the centre of a feeding frenzy, couldn't happen to a nicer bunch!
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And Ridzik got splattered because Hanse didn't need him, I wonder what Ardan will be doing since there is no need for him to be his handler and oversee the absorbtion of Tikonov republic. Sure, AFFS will have to take a few more worlds by force, but this is balanced by FWL involvement.
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Superb story with amazing writing. :thumbsup:
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Needs more Blood to interfere...
After all... Comstar would want to talk to this Mr. Smith...
TT
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That's TWO nights in a row you've kept me up past bed time... well done! :thumbsup:
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I really enjoy the "excerpts" from the various textbooks. A nice way to advance the plot where Smith isn't personally involved.
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I just can not wait to see when more Lvl two tech hits the "scene"
Technically they are as Freezers are now in full serial production on Heph II (and a new line is about to go live on Wernke) and the proliferation is steadily ramping up.
It's just that at the start of the war (and thanks to the Dragoons sucking down a lot of their supply including most of the loose units from Helm and the first production runs) excepting the Dragoons, you didn't see more than a few scattered elites with that kind of gear. And so it was easy to put it down to, in the eyes of the intel people, components from Helm being spread around (the Dragoons tended to stomp the other side so bad not that much intel actually got out as to their superior machines) to elites.
When wave 4 of Rat hits however, Hanse has actually used the time to ensure several shipments of Freezers from Defiance have been packaged as refit kits, as targeted as possible to Mechs that can be so much more critical tactically with them. So, Awesome and Flashmen, Lucifers (my God the pilots now almost don't cry when they strap into one!), Warhammers and so on. Probably 10% of the AFFS Mech fleet involved in RAT are running Freezers now which may not sound like much, but in the right place at the right time....
The LCAF are somewhat in the same boat - but will be doing rolling upgrades going forward and focusing them key spearhead units so most units will still have zero, some units will be running much more though.
And Ridzik got splattered because Hanse didn't need him, I wonder what Ardan will be doing since there is no need for him to be his handler and oversee the absorbtion of Tikonov republic. Sure, AFFS will have to take a few more worlds by force, but this is balanced by FWL involvement.
Ardan is on New Sytris. Currently, pulling everything together as the last of Michaels genuine loyalists are either retired, transferred or otherwise sidelined with fresh blood promoted or otherwise put into place. He's for all intents and purposes the acting Field Marshal of the Capellan March (and hating Hanse for having shoved him into this mess while at the same time quietly happy he doesn't have to deal with Ridzik in this timeline as he wouldn't be sure of not simply capping his ass on first sight). Not to mention having to explain to MHDs wife that he was actually a huge traitor who Hanse has enough data on to have shot on the spot and that Morgan has all but disowned at this point...
He's getting things ready for the Capellan March Command units to kick into the war in wave 5 with three battle groups focused at Menke (Capellan Dragoons; a feint hid-and-run to draw in any remaining reaction forces but hopefully catch any trace of the Big MAC remaining on planet that might be hanging around), Necromo (llician Lancers group; a primary target) and Grand Base (The Crushers in the lead).
That's about as much as the Jumpships can support given events.
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Is Hanse's goals larger in this SI AU? Are we gonna see a truly gelded CC?
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:thumbsup: nice updates
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Is Hanse's goals larger in this SI AU? Are we gonna see a truly gelded CC?
Given the forewarning he has about the Chaos March I believe he wants to make sure the CC is well and truly done for to avoid such unrest down the road.
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Since the FWL is starting to peck at them, you'll know it's the end when the MoC and TC start in on them. We might also see the first units abandoning the CC for the Periphery of going pirate. If that happens, it's all over.
We might start seeing some of the 'Special Weapons', nukes and biowarfare depending on how they deal with Max Max and the rest of them.
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Loving the story can hardly wait for the next chapter. Awesome....
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Heh.
I saw this thread, and immediately "SQUEE!"-ed. Welcome to the wait. :)
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Well all that extra stuff is indeed GREAT I also cant wait to hear about what happend when Smith woke up after he got knocked out.
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Head injuries are tricky, forinstance he could revert to his true accent 'dinky die, struth, she'll be right mate!, Crikey!, G’day' and so on, instead of the psudeo-pommy speech we put on for the tourists.
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I was told that was " Kiwi " talk...
:D
TT
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Don't insult us by saying we are Kiwi's.
Trust TT to throw that in. :D ;)
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I’d rather you jokers didn’t insult Kiwis by implying Aussies are Kiwis! How does that old joke go? “Kiwis who leave New Zealand for Australia raise the average IQ of both countries.” ;D
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Now now...
Kiwis are just a fuzzy tart green fruit with a squishy inside and small black edible seeds.
Zealanders and Aussies speak a weird UK dialect that's slightly less annoying than most death metal bands. :)
Now I want to remove myself...
More please from Smith!
TT
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When Wymton Rufer played for werder Bremen and got the ball going for Goal the whole side went: "Kiwi, Kiwi, Kiwi ... "
.. finishing with "Toooooooor!"
He did not mind ....
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More please from Smith!
You asked, Chris answered. (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-740#post-69889983)
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You asked, Chris answered. (https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/this-was-easier-on-the-tabletop-a-battletech-si.659596/page-740#post-69889983)
Yeah, at 24 thousand words, how many posts would that need to be posted here?
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Yeah, at 24 thousand words, how many posts would that need to be posted here?
TL;DR
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TL;DR
It's worth reading, actually.
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Would have updated this sooner - but some odd database errors.
This first post you can skip if you're not a fan, just a dream sequence shout out to a fun old Spacebattles crack Btech fic. NAIS sedatives are a hell of a drug. Promise you won't miss anything!
Thanks to GundamChief for letting me play with his toys
***
Chapter Eighteen: Aftermath
Yorinaga Kurita, Mechwarrior of the Draconis Combine, Bane of House Davion and Right Hand of the Dragon stepped into the New Avalon Institute of Science and allowed himself the reward of one full second of personal pride even as his companies kept moving through the breach at high speed, moving with haste yet precision towards their targets as he counted them off.
The burning wreckage of the Battlemechs of both the Cadets who had fought to stop them and his vanguard were scattered all over the area and he let his own personal pride pass and a sense of decorum take its place as he offered a small bow to the wreckage. Honoring the sacrifice of the brave Sons of the Dragon who had without flinching been first to take the walls of the enemy position, opening the way for the rest of them.
The few remaining cadets were still trying to fall back and being hounded by the remains of his own vanguard, the last of the Mercenary troops fighting bravely but entirely futilely to buy them time to disengage as the fresh troops overwhelmed them in short order. But he knew it would only be a limited time until heavy Davion reinforcements arrived - led by him- and so he throttled up as the last of his battalions passed him, on his own track. He led from the front of his Command Lance - as he should - both for reasons of duty and out of the practical reason that his ‘abilities’ meant defenders may waste their munitions trying to shoot him.
Truly he had little to fear from single enemies - but he had learned his lesson on Sakhara where that brave Davion cub had come closer than any other man to ending his life with a bold strike worthy of his family name, staying with his lance. Even so, by taking the lead with his lance, he correctly set the example of advancing without fear as-
Then the world took a sudden turn as his Mech bucked wildly. He was flung forward against his harness with great force, and it was only through extremely ingrained training and reflexes that he was able to snap his long arms ‘up’ so as to not drive them straight into the ground and risk bending them as with a terrific crash his Warhammer slammed into the ground
How terribly ... undignified.
“Tai-sa!” the shocked and alarmed voice of Narimasa Asano crackled in his ears - thankfully on the private channel they shared. “Are you alright? What happened!”
“I am fine” he assured the other, instinctive checks of his status showing that while he had been shaken, no critical damage was shown and so he started to return to his feet. “And I am not sure, I-” he added, then paused as his Mech shuddered and he almost fell over again, until he realized his legs were tangled … in a cable, stretched across the road?!
Someone had just tried to trip his Mech over?
His gaze tracked the cable across the road, back to -
A sign?
A sign he was almost certain had not been there.before. But a sign nonetheless.
In Japanese.
Which said...
‘Welcome to New Avalon Kurita-san, hope you enjoyed your trip!’
Incredulously, he simply stared for several long seconds as his Lance closed in around him. He was pleased to see on his TACMAP the rest of his battalions were ahead and pushing deeper into the NAIS exactly as he had planned and ordered, not slowing down for him - and he carefully stepped out of the wire, his dignity far more damaged than his Battlemech.
“A tripwire? How … quaint” Asano-San replied from his Crusader as he stepped up next to him, sounding idly amused before with a burst from a laser he severed the cable.
But Yorinaga wasn’t really listening as he finally realized that next to the sign was a painted arrow pointing … up?
His gaze tracked up as he twisted his torso … and indeed, up on the top of the building it was in front of was another sign. Larger and it said...
“Some say he is the secret love child of Natasha Kerensky and the Bounty Hunter” he read aloud over the frequency he shared with his XO before seeing the next arrow in turn that pointed off to the right … ah, another sign there.
“We don’t know. But all you need to know is that he’s called...” Asano read aloud now, his own voice sounding as confused as he felt as they both followed yet another arrow pointing to the end of the street in front of them-
How exactly all of them had missed it, he wasn’t sure. Especially given the sheer number of spotlights clearly illuminating it.
Perhaps because it was tiny, shorter even than a Stinger or Locust?
But nonetheless, a Battlemech was standing atop the building at the end of this street. Its head holding a single great red eye glaring at him, with what looked like an SRM pack on its left shoulder and-
...and it was holding a rifle in one hand? A hand-held weapon for a Battlemech?!
In the second as his practiced eyes studied the situation, the ‘Mechs left foot lightly kicked out and a great banner rolled off the roof and down the face of the building. Unfolding faster and faster until it reached the ground, revealing - a picture of a man.
A man dressed head to toe in white clothes that showed nothing at all to give away who it was, even more so given that he wore a great helmet on his head. A helmet with an opaque visor that seemed to glare at him in a way worthy of similar banners on Combine Worlds showing the stern visage of Takashi Kurita looking down upon his subjects. And as the banner reached the bottom, large words in great bold English letters proclaimed that this person was … .
“Kurita-San … what … is a ‘Stig’?” Asano asked in no small amount of confusion as the Mech above grandly swept its arm to the side and bowed to them!
“An enemy carrying arms against us” Yorinaga declared as he bowed in turn - bringing his PPCs up smoothly as he rose from the bow and firing from the hip without waiting for a lock as the two particle beams scathed right through where the enemy … had been?
Because even as he triggered his cannons, the undersized Battlemech had deepened its bow, rolling into a somersault off the roof and allowing the charged particle streams to harmlessly shoot into the sky. And then, with agility he had never seen in any Mech, it impossibly managed a full rotation through the air to, with a flash of jump jets, land on its feet on a crouch.
Impressive, he admitted to himself even as it exploded into motion towards him.
He brought his lasers up but it seemed to slide left and right in a way utterly foreign to any Mech movement profile he had ever seen as he tried to draw a bead upon it. Oh, its feet had wheels-
...
It's feet had wheels!?
The sheer shock and disbelief that hit him as he realized it was just enough to stall his instinctive compensation as he shifted his torso back to get the target precisely under his guns and so he missed, instead setting the front of a building on fire. Adroitly it reversed its course and he narrowed his gaze, certain not to miss this time as he corrected for its odd gait and brought up all his weapons-
But just before his lasers were recycled, there was a flicker of motion in his right hand and a sphere was flung from its hand in an incredibly long arc straight at him. Something that looked impossibly, yet awfully, like a Battlemech sized-
“GRENADE!” Akira yelled over the channel, his tone one of horror and surprise in equal measure and desperately his Mech moved up, clearly trying to get in front of and shield him.
Yorinaga appreciated the gesture from his Son, but he would have been far better served by him shooting at the enemy instead of futilely moving to try and cover him. Asano did not make that mistake and weapons fire erupted at this ‘Stig’, the Mech ducking and turning with incredible agility to vanish down a sidestreet, the barrage of missiles missing him by mere centimeters just before the grenade impacted, right at his feet.
The explosion was brilliant, everything going a vivid yellow … and yet his Mech barely rocked from the force. Odd.
…
And the explosion stayed a vivid yellow. Wait-
Several alarms sounded as automatic systems activated, squirting blasts of chemical filled water to push off what he belatedly realized was yellow paint from his cockpit window and his various sensor systems, bringing his visuals back up enough to see Akiras Orion looming just ahead of him.
Yellow paint.
Why? To mark him out? Or make him easier to target perhaps in some way?
No-one around him seemed to want to dare to speak and in the end it fell on him.
“Sou ka” he said simply, starting his Mech forward with deliberate purpose, pushing it aside. “Let us proceed. Time is our enemy and it is ever closing in on us - as no doubt is our target.”
There was a series of acknowledgements and their Lance started forward again as he tried to put the insanity out of his mind. Clearly, this unknown Mech was some kind of NAIS prototype pressed into service for this battle. And if nothing else, it was an excellent example to all of them of why this place needed to be destroyed.
Marching forward with increasing speed as he realized that he was being left behind, he moved through several streets, swinging his torso around to lead the way as he turned into and out of streets -
- which meant he was the first to spot the annoying pest of a Battlemech once again as he turned down onto a new road, despite its best attempt to crouch and half hide behind a corner of the next intersection up, in the shadows.
He called out a sharp warning as he brought his weapons around - but his Mech rattled as its gun flashed and a sustained burst of fire walked over his Battlemechs torso. He blinked in some astonishment at the perfectly accurate fire - in none of the battles he had led for the Dragon in this invasion had even one Davion Battlemech been able to target him, yet this - ah!
Of course!
In an instant as the fire cut off, he realized that the rifle this thing was carrying in its arms, it had a sight on top that the Mechwarrior was looking down. Like a real auto-rifle! And it was visually aiming and shooting it.
That took much skill - and ingenious thinking - except that the detached weapon predictably was firing only very light rounds. A machine gun perhaps - no, not even that! His armor indicator had flashed registering the hits, but no damage indicators stayed on indicating armor ablation. It was as if … wait …
Had it hit him with even more paint? Yes, some kind of liquid had splattered all over him, again, mixing with the damn yellow paint?
Feeling exasperated, he triggered his guns - and this time had satisfaction that as the enemy Mech tried to duck behind the corner of the intersection. But anticipating its move, he led it and shot through the building proving the ancient maxim that concealment did not necessarily equate to cover.
There was the flash of an explosion and he was very pleased to see what looked like half of the ‘Stigs’ rifle clatter back into the intersection, showing it had lost its primary weapon.
“After it!” he snapped and throttled up, pounding up the street as his lance belatedly tried to keep up.
“Sir - I should take the lead” Asano insisted from his Crusader and even though he couldn’t see him, Yorinaga curtly shook his head.
“Iie” he said, more strongly than he normally would have. “He has challenged me” he said and his XO wisely remained silent as he came around the corner with his lance at his back - but hanging behind him to cover him. Smiling thinly, he realized the Mechwarrior had finally made a mistake - this was a dead end urban canyon, with tall buildings on all three sides and at the end of the street the enemy Mech was stationary, facing him. He knew this design had jump jets - he had seen them fire earlier. But while it might be able to ascend out, it would be a perfect target if it tried and with the entire dead-end street less than a hundred and fifty meters long, he had him dead to rights. And so he walked forward-
He felt the snagging feeling of his foot hitting some kind of cable - but this time it gave way easily and snapped and he let his smile turn into a smirk.
If this ‘Stigs’ plan had been for he and his colleagues to trip over again then it was in for a very unpleasant-
Three things then happened in very rapid succession then.
First, on the left and right side of the road, two high-power industrial grade fans normally used to move air around on large space stations turned on as the tripwire snapped and triggered their power switches, going from zero to several thousand RPM in moments for several seconds before burning out.
Second, the massive wave of air generated erupted into very very carefully organized piles of something white and light, sending them in a sudden wave to engulf his Battlemech, once again shutting down his vision and sensors.
Third … music stated. A screaming in his ear that made him wince before his computers automatically dropped the volume. Static and then a very very powerful radio signal that utterly swamped his Battlemechs communications systems on every broadband frequency. Something only a very powerful transmitter could do and leaving him only his direct line of sight radios and laser comms.
And as music went, it left a lot to be desired.
“A-well, a bird, bird, bird, bird is a word! A-well, a bird, bird, bird, bird is a word…”
Confusion reigned as the white fell away from his cockpit and he saw the enemy Mech at the end of the street was …
Dancing? Dancing to the music!?
Bird? Word? What was this insani-
Then he happened to look to his left and in the mirror-glass front of the NAIS building there he could see a quite good reflection of his Battlemech and what had been blown at him.
Feathers.
His Mech was covered in yellow paint … and now feathers.
Feathers that were adhering to him where it had blasted his torso and arms with its rifle - it must have been some kind of adhesive - even as the paint slowly started to soak into them, turning his proud family Battlemech into …
A Giant. Yellow. Bird.
The mortal enemy of the Dragon in Kuritan mythology. The thing he thought he had seen that day when he had faced Morgan Kell in that duel that still haunted him to this day.
Something in the back of his mind snapped as he slowly looked at the still stationary but wildly gyrating Mech ahead of him.
“A-well-a don't you know about the bird? Well, everybody knows that the bird is a word”
The Alpha Strike that erupted from him was joined - without his permission but he didn’t really care- by a similar salvo from his lance and the end of the street exploded into fire, the fury of the Dragon unleashed and sending a massive cloud of fire and smoke pouring into the air-
And a second later with a loud clunk a large chunk of metal landed at his feet. The head and upper torso of the enemy Mech. Victory! Even though that damned music was still playing-
…
No. Not victory. Unless his firepower had been so ferocious as to compact the enemy Mech into a Two-Dimensional piece of flat metal, he was very sure that this was not his opponent but some kind of cutout decoy. One he could see that had hinges and joints that had let it move and dance driven by some kind of motor on the back that still had its head jolting back and forth until with a snarl of rage he slammed his foot down and found some tiny satisfaction in shattering the thing as he looked around. Where the hell had it gone-
As if in answer, a beep on his sensors flashed showing a target directly above him and he on pure instinct took a knee with his Mech to stabilize himself as he swung his Torso back and his arms up on as high an arc as he could, looking for his opponent target that was no doubt on a roof or even perhaps trying a DFA ...
It wasn’t.
Through the clouds of smoke he was able to see the enemy Mech was ascending up into the heavens at speed - waving at him in sheer impudence! - but … that was not what had his attention.
Everything up until this point since he had entered the NAIS had been humiliating and vexing - but not impossible. Simply an enemy with a complete lack of decorum yet admirable courage he could admit given the odds against him.
But as he stared up into the night sky that was no longer empty, he simply … stared as the ‘Stig’ was winched up on a very fast cable that was retracting into the hanger bay of what he was reasonably sure was a Star League Defense Forces Texas class Battleship, that was hanging in the air at about a thousand feet in the way dropships sometimes did and Warships tended to not do - unless they had been able to have a brief chat with reality and convince it to take a smoke break for five minutes.
Helpfully, his Battle Computer without asking interrogated it and it returned a transponder of ‘SLS Pretorian’ for its identity - and that it was the source of the overwhelming radio music.
He simply stood there and stared - along with his Lance who were seemingly equally stupefied by the impossible, terrifying yet majestic sight as the music stopped and a voice came over the channel.
“And by special request of Prince Davion, this one’s for you Yorinaga!” it said before it started to sing to a completely different beat of music.
“What's new Kurita-Cats, whoa, oh whoa!” was all he heard before lighting erupted from the gigantic slab of metal rained down upon him and everything went white, putting him gratefully out of his misery-
-
*
***
***********
***
*
My eyes flickered open, then closed to a squint against the light shining into them. On reflex I took a deep breath-
I regretted that decision immediately.
A spike of pain shot through my chest and I winced and hissed slightly. It wasn’t overwhelming or agonising or anything, but it was sharp enough to make it be known that my ribs were lodging an official protest over everything I had done to them.
On the plus side, the burst of information through my nervous system as I flinched worked to rather immediately wake me fully up and clear the fogginess from my head as I squinted and blinked away the light. Letting my eyes adjust as I tried to recall my last memories…
Ah. Right.
Falling like a rock from a street light to the ground and slamming my head against said ground after being twirled into the side of a building.
Mental note - invent small cockpits so I could bloody well wear power suits inside a Battlemech in the future and eject ‘living legends’ style out of them...
Clearly time had passed since then because I was on a bed and not a battlefield and as I stared at the ceiling overhead, I also noted the absence of any Stig-like figures holding up signs as they taunted Yorinaga Kurita … or signing battleships hovering excitedly over the battlefield.
So I was pretty sure I was awake now. Probably.
Man, whatever the hell they had had me on, I needed less of it … or more. Not sure which yet - oh hey, this ceiling is familiar...
Pushing aside the Shinji-Ikrai’isms, I started to try and move, feeling oddly unbalanced in the bed before a voice cut my thoughts-
“Oh good, you’re waking up on schedule” a far-too cheerful voice called out to the side and I tilted my head in that direction, then blinked rapidly several times as a familiar face came into view from the side … walking at a weird angle…
“Please tell me that wasn’t all a dream?” I got out in a raspy voice that was nonetheless dripping with exasperation.
So help ROB if I’m in a Gods Damned bullshit looper scenario-
“I could see how you might think that” Janice said with a twitch in her smile that suggested she found the idea amusing, “but assuming the last thing you remember was making a not-quite perfect ejection? Then the last few years were not a dream” she replied and I sighed as my muscles relaxed and I flopped back onto the bed, taking a more careful deep breath and finally understood why I was feeling like I was at an odd angle ...because I was.
This bed had gone full Minbari style and was sloping at an angle up from the ground.
I’m sure there was a reason for that, buggered if I knew what it was - and I winced again as I tried to shift a little to get more comfortable.
“Careful, you had broken two of your ribs” she warned as she stepped closer and started to fiddle with a control on the side of what I realized was a hospital bed and with a hum the back behind me started to rise more steeply and the ‘bottom’ near my feat came up a bit and reformed into a more conventional bed with its back raised. “You also had some light spinal strain from the ejection, a rather well sprained right ankle and mild electrical burns on your shoulder. The last of the sedatives are being flushed out of your system and a stimulant replacing it - hence your waking up - but if the pain gets too much, let me know.”
“It’s not too bad” I replied as my back became propped up, bringing the room into much better focus and I started to tense and test my limbs and muscles, pushing past the occasional spikes of pain and twinges of stiffness to find my hands, feet, fingers and toes were all seemingly functional. So the ‘spinal strain’ didn’t seem to have done any major damage. I could tell my shoulder was bandaged and it seemed there was an IV hooked into my upper arm somewhere. And I could feel medical sensors all over me, much the same as were used in Battlemechs.
In all honestly … it could have been worse.
A lot worse.
Pushing past that I directed my attention at the person standing next to me as she handed me a cup of water with a straw I eagerly consumed, clearing my throat a few times carefully as I considered her presence. Dr Janice Besson was the psychiatrist who had been tasked with damage control after I had unceremoniously woken up one day in a different universe to the one I had gone to sleep in. Dealing with my - understandable I think - denial over the events in question and working to get me back to being a functional member of society after I had come to accept it (being treated to a bunch of Mechs walking down the street in front of you followed by a fleet of Dropships taking off tended to do the trick).
She had even done it without me giving away the fact that I had found myself inside a fictional universe and what that had done for my sanity levels. Although the drugs she had put me on for those first couple of weeks had probably helped a great deal with that...
I had completely lost touch with her shortly after being ‘let loose’ into the real world, when I had admitted everything to Hanse Davion and fallen into a MIIO black hole. After returning to New Avalon from my adventures on Helm, Tharkad and Sakhara and spending a few days each week at the NAIS, I had thought a few times about trying to get in touch with her. Even just dropping her a line to say ‘hi’ or ‘lets catch up for coffee’ or something … but every time I had considered it, it had brought back some rather unpleasant memories of those early months in this universe...
In short, I had pussied out.
Well, she was here now … and why was that?
“So uh, it's good to see you Janice, but I have to admit I’m a bit surprised you’re here waiting for me to wake up.” I tried to move my neck then - only to find resistance and I realized belatedly I was in some kind of light neck brace or restraint stopping my head moving much. Annoying. But probably there for a reason. I glanced around as best I could and saw I was in a hospital room- and from the style I was indeed sure this was NAIS. A far smaller room than the one I had been in last time which had been a set of apartments generally used by visiting nobility, but then even having a private room given the aftermath of the battle when I’m sure space was at a premium was a sign that someone was pulling strings.
Probably Quintus Allard, wanting to make sure if I talked in my sleep, no-one would be listening.
“Prince Davion made it very clear he wanted someone to keep an eye on you when you woke up to answer the questions you were likely to have” she explained as she finished bringing me to a full sitting position took my empty cup before she went out of line of sight for a second, the brace preventing me from following but she returned moments later dragging a stool and carrying a folder to sit down next to the bed. “And given our previous interactions, Quintus Allard volunteered me.”
Yeah, this was definitely about the ‘no talking in sleep’ thing.
“My condolences” I replied in a deadpan tone as I realized that Hanse was clearly still around to give orders and felt a bit of relief that my efforts hadn’t been wasted - something that would have been greatly exasperating really. “I seem to have found myself volunteering for a great many things since we last talked” I admitted, oddly feeling tired despite just waking up. “Things that have led to … well ...”
“Do you regret volunteering?” she asked after I trailed off before pausing and shaking her head off my look and holding up a hand. “Sorry, force of habit there. Actually John, I put my hand up to see how you were doing. You fell off the grid - and all the MIIO liaison here would tell me was that you were fine and working with them now. Then you show back up in the First Prince’s command company of all places as a full blown Mechwarrior? I have to admit that was … a little unexpected. Still, I’m very happy to see that you’ve more than landed on your feet - ejections aside.”
“It’s … been an interesting road” I reflected with as much understatement as I could put into my voice, thinking about my crazy path to this bed. Janice was of course cleared on how I had arrived in this universe ... but as far as she and almost everyone who knew how I had come here understood, I was ‘just’ a temporal fish out of water from a slightly different 21st century. A fascinating curiosity, but nothing more than that.
Only - at last count- fourteen people in the Inner Sphere knew the complete truth about me and included two House Lords with the rest almost entirely made up of direct reports to said House Lords and incredibly trusted associates.
Well and a gaggle of mad scientists in Team Banzai. Some of whom might even still be alive...
“But I take it from your statement Hanse Davion is still alive?” I refocused myself, shifting slightly to try and get comfortable.
“Very much alive” Janice nodded. “As is Morgan Hasek-Davion and Jackson Davion and-
“Pappa Company?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady - although I was rather sure my urgency and angst shone through at that question.
Then I realized she probably didn’t have a clue who the hell I was talking about.
“Uh, they were the unit-”
“The powers that be expected that you would be asking after them” she said as she passed over a couple of sheets of paper I hadn’t seen her holding and I forced myself not to snatch it from her as I accepted it and quickly started skimming through the brief report therein...
Hanse (or more specifically whichever staff officer he or Yvonne Davion had tapped for this) had written a neatly condensed status report on each of the people in the company, clearly for my eyes and I distantly made a mental note to thank them for the gesture. Two of the kids were flagged as WIA. A little banged up, but thankfully nothing more serious than my own injuries with broken bones and the like. The remaining four were already back at CMS enjoying what amounted to ‘leave where you couldn’t actually leave’ until things got back to normal. Three of their Mechs were trashed but salvageable while three were dispossessed with total constructive losses.
Still, I rather suspected they would be on the priority list for either an upgrade to one of the bigger DCMS Mechs that was going to be salvaged, or, a fresh build from one of the factories on New Avalon after, you know, helping to save the First Prince.
I on the other hand…
Well, Royal Command Battlemechs didn’t exactly grow on trees and Helms' other three sister-Mechs to mine had long been shipped out to Operational Test and Evaluation pilots. And as I (ROB willing) wouldn’t be anywhere near the front line in the near future, I wasn’t on any kind of priority list for a new Mech anyway.
Making me, dun dun dun; Dispossessed!!
I honestly couldn’t care less. But I had a sinking feeling that I’d get yet more of that ‘Oh no, you’re Dispossessed? You poor bastard!’ attitude that had driven me nuts at the academy. With people thinking they had to walk on eggshells around me lest I have a mental breakdown at the overwhelming shame and stigma of no longer ‘really’ being a Mechwarrior…
Still. In the end, I could live with it if it meant Hanse lived too. And if my first ‘command’ had not resulted in me getting a bunch of cadets I had manipulated into the battle getting killed under my orders-
“You’re thinking about how you manipulated the cadets into joining the fight” Janice observed almost idly and I blinked, then shot her a look as I handed the paper back, huffing slightly.
“I don’t think I ever told you how bloody annoying your ability to read people's minds was, did I?”
“No, but if I could read minds you wouldn’t need to, would you?” she pointed out sweetly as she put the papers back into the folder and slotted it into her folio.
I gave her my best level stare.
She returned it and I sighed, irritated at her utterly unassailable logic.
“Okay, you win that one” I admitted. “Janice, I manipulated those kids-”
“Cadets” she interrupted me, with somewhat atypical bluntness, her eyes narrowing slightly. “They were not kids. They were soldiers so don’t denigrate them like that. You were not born here so I don’t think you appreciate just what that means to-”
“I know exactly what it means to them” I cut her off in turn with a not-quite glare to mask my guilt. “The status, the ‘honor’, the expectations upon them to be one and I pressed every one of those buttons to drag them back into the fight” I didn’t quite snap at her.
“No John” she corrected me calmly after a few seconds. “You simply did your job - and they did theirs. None of them were conscripts, nor were they children. Every single one of them was an adult who had sworn their service to the AFFS and knew they were joining to face and kill the enemy in battle - which was going to happen inevitably. If not today, then tomorrow. Every. Single. One. Of. Them” she punctuated the words for emphasis, “stepped forward to do their duty. It was a very nice speech you gave them - and I’d be curious to know what 20th or 21st century movie it was actually from by the way - but if you think that it was enough to convince a bunch of scared ‘children’ with war machines to do something they really didn’t want to do?”
She paused and shook her head at me once.
“If anything, from what Cadet Stengovich told me, she was convinced she had failed as a Mechwarrior in her first exposure to combat and had made a mockery of her family's legacy. And that it was you who redeemed her of her failings by giving her a second chance-”
“Failings? That's crazy!” I cut in with no small amount of exasperation. “She and the rest of the cadets got rumbled by a tactical genius leading a hoard of Elite Mechwarriors! That they were able to even stay alive as long as they did is …. oh very well done” I rolled my eyes and sat back into my bed-chair thing, not quite sulking. Annoyed at myself for falling so neatly into her trap.
If I admitted their skill in staying alive against the impossible odds, then I could hardly think of them as helpless children or deny that they were trained soldiers of the AFFS, could I?
“I thought it was too” she agreed lightly as she held my gaze, drilling straight through my self-indulgent moping. “All of you undeniably went above and beyond the call of duty, even by Davion standards, but it was your - and their- duty nonetheless. A great number of people with vastly more experience on the battlefield have judged your performance and seem to very much be in agreement with that sentiment. And they wanted me to drill that into your head before you got caught up in some kind of guilt loop, given events.”
“...were you always this direct?” I muttered at her, then narrowed my gaze in consideration and looked back up as her words caught up to me. “Hold on, what exactly did you mean by ‘given events’?”
“Ah. Remember when I said you were the hero of New Avalon?” she asked and I nodded (as best I could anyway). And she opened her folder again and this time, she handed over ... a folded up newspaper?
-
Amusingly, a thousand years hadn’t managed to kill the newspaper off. Its popularity had seemed to wax and wane over time, but throughout the 3rd Succession War it had been very much in vogue, differentiating itself from other media mostly because with Sphere Wide information only coming into even the biggest planets and VIPs thereof a few times a day (and often with days or a week between HPG signals for other worlds), they took the time to do detailed reporting and analysis that gave them a distinctly professional air missing from vid news..
Well that and, you know, ‘Battletech’ where the old joke about taking a horse ride to catch your interstellar flight still held true off worlds like New Avalon, in places where global data nets were often non-existent. News - often transmitted between Jumpships and then to planets along their shipping chain- was often reprinted on local presses under licence agreements with capital and regional capital worlds. Which meant that this copy of the New Avalon Herald -considered the ‘Flagship’ newspaper of the Federated Suns - was printed on at least three hundred Federation worlds and even on a few dozen Lyran and even a number of Free Worlds League planets. And yet more worlds cribbed stories from said newspaper like the old Associated Press wires of my youth for their own mastheads...
In short; a lot of people were going to be reading this ... and I didn’t like that feeling as I slowly took the paper from her, unfolding it to look at the front page-
And looked.
And looked some more.
Honestly, I couldn’t find words despite several attempts, simply staring...
The front page (blazoned with a ‘SPECIAL EDITION!’ banner) was entirely made up of an enhanced still from someone's gun camera. Showing the exact instant my Battlemechs fusion reaction had let go and started to wash out the image with light, having crash tackled Kurita’s Warhammer, just short of the point of shoving him onto his back from the force.
It didn’t show my ejection seat - I was too far up in the sky by that point - but, it did show me.
Specifically; a decent sized insert on the bottom right corner with my AFFS file photo.
“Pictured; Lieutenant John Smith saves Hanse Davion and the Federated Suns; avenging both Ian Davion and his comrades killed and crippled at Sakhara. Full coverage of the Battle of New Avalon on pages 2 through 12” I slowly read out the block of text at the bottom of the page, my eyes feeling like they were bulging worse than Gowrons right now…
There was no way the AFFS Press liaison office would ever release anything about me given the number of red-flags that were triggered in DMI’s systems by even looking at my (actually entirely generic and uninteresting) AFFS service file, without asking higher up people. And no-one outside of the Davion Guards and senior field commanders knew who was in my Marauder … and as Sir Humphrey had once said, the ship was state was the most unique ship of all in that it so often tended to leak from the top down...
This could only be Hanse Davions work.
The bastard.
“I thought it was best you found out from me” Janice explained delicately as the silence dragged with me simply staring at the newspaper.
I’d never been front page material or anything close to it, in any of my lives … and here I was. Very literally on the front page of an interstellar newspaper...
It was, uh … jarring. And my brain had annoyingly seemed to have forgotten how to form words...
“When I said you were the hero of New Avalon, I really wasn’t kidding” Janice pointed out rather unnecessarily into the silence, clearly trying to prod some kind of reaction from me, but my mind was elsewhere. Perhaps this was Karma coming back to me for all the fun I’d had springing the surprise on the Dragoons?
…
Eh, if so, ****** it. Still totally worth it to see Clanners faces twist like that.
“Pretty quick work on the papers part to get this information out this fast…” I finally managed as I glanced at the picture, figuring this was in fact probably from the First Princes own gun camera given the angle. Damn, I had cut that explosion a little fine if he was that close when I cooked my mech off...
“Less then you might think John” Janice replied and something in her tone made me pay attention, almost … sheepish? “It’s actually been five days since the battle.”
I blinked at that.
“Five days?” I repeated her words after a long, awkward silence. “I’ve been unconscious for five days?” What the ******...
“Sedated, yes” she nodded. “After you were picked up off the ground by an infantry team and rushed here by the medics, you went in for some very minor surgery on your spine. Nothing serious, it’s actually a pretty routine procedure to make sure there is no long term damage from an ejection compressing things. But they took the opportunity to fix your ribs. The gel they used is new tech and incredibly effective, but it requires you to be very very still to let it set and be metabolized by your ribs to fully repair the bone. It’s much easier to just immobilize you chemically. And unless you like being fully aware and awake but unable to move a muscle in your body…” she paused, giving me enough time to shake my head slightly with wide eyes and make no secret of how horrifying that sounded … “then keeping you unconscious was far easier.”
“So … wait, you’re saying my ribs are healed?” I asked in some bewilderment and at her nod, I breathed in a bit. There was pain, but it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I thought it might be. So I did it again. And again.
My clear disbelief earned me a bit of a snort from the Doc, who crossed her arms in front of her with an almost disbelieving expression in her face.
“Really John? So being transposed from an alternate universe and pulled a thousand years through time is perfectly possible, but ribs being healed in a week is completely impossible?”
…
Yeah, I had no comeback even in the ballpark for that.
“Fair point” I muttered, processing the fact that most of a week had passed without me knowing. A darkly suspicious part of me suddenly wondered if Hanse had wanted me on ice for that time so he could set up this whole propaganda bullshit and get things moving to a point I couldn’t stop them…
I repeat; bastard. Magnificent bastard perhaps, but still bastard.
Presently Janace glanced at her watch and frowned before standing up. “John, sorry to say but if you are okay, I have to get going - I have a session with a number of cadets in five minutes” she noted and I nodded and gestured at her to proceed.
I wasn’t going to spin out of control or anything.
I think.
Leaning down, she pulled a small satchel up from the floor and from it she pulled out … a noteputer?
The things still looked and felt to me like a mid 90’s laptop, although I noticed in interest this one had a built in verigraph security system on the side. I had seen them used in the Den but never had one issued to me. They were incredibly expensive and rare -mostly jealousy guarded Lostech hand-me-downs- meaning whatever was on it had to be classified for my eyes only and I felt a slight chill as I accepted the device, accepting it as carefully as if it was a live bomb, grunting at its weight a little.
“The doctors will be back in about fifteen minutes to get you up. You have a kit bag in the cabinet over there” she gestured to the small cupboard in the corner with one hand even as the other reached back to gather her hair back into a simple ponytail, pulling an elastic off her wrist at the same time - somehow - to lock it into place in one smooth motion. And as she did I couldn’t help but notice how frazzled her hair looked.
“And apparently orders will be delivered to you sometime this afternoon - hopefully with a hospital discharge.”
She paused for a second as she gathered her things, regarding me with a close gaze and didn’t quite make me squirm. “It was good to see you again John” she added after a few seconds. “Just … try to stick the landing next time alright John?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that - trying to push past the pain in my chest now that I knew my ribs had been apparently glued back together or something and that I probably wasn’t going to make things worse.
“I will” I agreed with a nod and she nodded back, picking up her bag and starting to head out - but I felt compelled to call out to her as she moved off. “Oh and Janice?””
She paused before reaching the door and looked back and I had to think for a second. It was more obvious now that I was thinking about it but she looked … tired?
I got the feeling she had been awfully busy the last few days - and clearly still was - but she had still taken time out to check in on me.
That … meant a lot. I didn’t have that many people I’d call friends … and ****** Kurita had just run a wrecking ball through those I could. So...
“Well, I just wanted to … well … say thanks. Not just for being here today, but for everything. I get the feeling you’ve been just a little busy over the last few days and it means a lot that you still took the time to, you know, be here?” I tried to awkwardly thank her for what she had done for me.
“You’re more than welcome John” she answered and from the way her smile sort of softened a little, I think she understood what I was saying before she nodded and left, closing the door behind her.
Well, it seemed I had a little time until the medical people arrived. I glanced at the noteputer but after a second of consideration moved it onto the bedside table, not wanting to risk anyone walking in on me with it just in case the content was highly sensitive.
Instead, I picked the paper back up and started to read through it, leaning back onto the pillows behind me. Pages two and three seemed to be all about the final skirmish in the park and I quickly flipped past that, not wanting to read the Davion propaganda on me just yet.
Pages four and five however was a double page feature with a map of Albion and Brunswick showing a broader strategic overview of the outcome across the planet and the units involved. The final count in the summary box was that Yorinaga Kurita had attacked New Avalon with one hundred and eighty two Battlemechs, fifteen Dropships, twenty one Aerospace Fighters and several Draconis Elite Strike Teams numbering about thirty to forty commandos in total. In addition, a handful of ISF cells on New Avalon had gone active (luckily all under watch by MIIO), resulting in some running firefights across the planet, short lived as they had been with the force that was brought down on their heads.
The Davion defenders had met them with one full Regimental Combat Team, one independent Mech regiment and one Mercenary Mech regiment plus several militia units - and the DEST team that had crashed into Mount Davion had been confronted head on by the permanent infantry garrison from the 1st Davion who never left the place. Who had proven, once again, that contrary to what Hollywood and its modern equivalent said, even elite Special Forces soldiers tended to get their asses handed to them when confronted by ten times their number of much more heavily equipped and well trained assault infantry on their own turf.
Even so, the 1st had taken stiff losses with almost eighty dead or wounded. And entirely unsurprisingly, not one of the DEST commandos was taken alive.
In fact, all the units involved in the defense had paid a high price for our victory.
The Crucis March Militia RCT had gotten off relatively lightly on the RCT level, losing only a company of Battlemechs and a few mixed companies of other ground forces, mostly trying to protect the light industrial areas outside NAIS proper. Most of the rest of their combat commands had never even been engaged, scattered across the planet as they were. One Combine dropship had managed to semi crash-land in the parking lot of Lycomb-Davion Introtechs facilities at Ukron and tried to fight it out as a giant pillbox, shooting up the place until the Militia had brought in field guns and simply blasted the damaged ship into trash. None of the production lines, safely buried underground, had been touched but the ancillary support and administration buildings were going to need more than a coat of paint before things got back to normal.
And someone was going to figure out how to remove thousands of tons of Dropship wreckage from the parking lot - I suspected it would take more than a tow truck.
The conventional fighter wings of the local militia had done sterling work; their rocket strafing attack on the bulk of the Genyosha had done a hell of a job in sandblasting armor off a lot of Battlemechs. But even that brief low level pass over the main body had cost them sixteen jet-fighters and their pilots as the elite Combine troops had reacted sickeningly quickly to return fire at the almost unarmored aircraft running Mach-1 at treetop level; a situation where any hit or loss of control was going to send you cartwheeling into the ground with no hope of correcting.
The Swordsworn had taken pretty stiff losses too. Despite all their advantages, the enemy were still among the best Mechwarriors the Combine had to offer with absolutely nothing to lose and had gone down swinging. Only fifty percent of the Honor Guards Mechs were fit for service - insomuch as they needed ‘standard’ repairs but were functional. Of the Mechwarriors, only fourteen were KIA but forty were listed as WIA, over 50% of the personnel. Hopefully, most of them would recover.
And then … then there was the grim news.
The holding force made up of Team Banzai’s 1st Battalion and the Cadets reserve battalion, who had taken the full force of Kuritas charge and Kamikaze fighters head on....
‘Wrecked’ was probably the kindest thing I could say based on these reports.
A half dozen members of Banzai's 1st Battalion were listed as KIA and I clenched my teeth as I read through the names of several people I considered friends, fighting off the tears that tried to push up onto my face. BB himself was listed as WIA with most of the rest of them but three names...
It was almost like BROB had mashed together the defense of NAIS in the original timeline by Team Banzai plus their utter curbstomp at the hands of the Geynosha on Northwind into one unholy ******[/I].
Inhaling and exhaling - and embracing the spike of pain in my chest to try and wrestle the angst back under control, I pushed past that section and glanced at the cadets battalions corner of the page - and immediately wished I hadn’t.
I knew they had gotten brutalized given what the ki … cadets … had told me during the battle, but it seemed every one of their Mechs bar the three ‘damaged’ units from Pappa Company plus one other Lance that had managed to get clear had been knocked out as TCLs. Incredibly, only four Mechwarriors were listed as KIA, but a staggering twenty were listed as WIA... which meant only eight Mechwarriors had made it out ‘more or less’ clean.
I shouldn’t have been surprised; the combination of the communications disruptions, the huge difference in skill between cadets facing their first battle and the handpicked elite of the DCMS when everything had gone tits-up …
Simply put, the cadets had been completely out of their league.
The AFFS infantry on campus had also lost over fifty people, with ten times that many wounded. But for all that, they had been -rightly- singled out as showing incredible courage and skill to knock out eight Battlemechs and inflict damage all out of proportion to what infantry were expected to be able to do on the 31st century Battlefield, forcing the enemy out and straight into the arms of the Swordsworn.
Even so, the losses made me remember my suggestion originally that I give my Mech to someone else and join the infantry that had been flatly refused by Hanse...and wonder what might have happened if he had taken me up on it?
Pushing on, I flipped through the next couple of pages, snorting in a sort of amusement at the state of the Davion throne room. The three thrones on the dais had clearly been introduced to a shaped charge or two, the huge and ancient Davion flags hanging behind them had been set on fire and badly burned despite the best efforts of fire suppression systems and the framed texts of the treaties that had brought the Federated Suns into being signed by Lucien Davion had been rather deliberately sprayed with Kanji that, according to the translation from the paper, roughly meant ‘The eternal Dragon owns all of you eternally!’ or something along those lines.
I guess it lost something in the translation.
Seriously, 1/10 for effort there boys. You had one chance to make a history defining troll of House Davion … and that was the best you could do? See, this is what happens when you let political officers try to troll...
I shook my head and flipped the page and chuckled. Showing that the Federation was always willing to poke fun at itself in a time of crisis, there was a cartoon of Hanse Davion, standing in the smoking ruins of the throne room … looking horrified. With a speech bubble thinking in horror that ‘Melissa was never going to stop asking for new drapes now!’ Cute.
I sort of kept skimming, but my mind drifted more as I considered the outcome of this. Sure, Takashi had gotten an internal propaganda victory out of this mess - I’m sure the footage of the Davion Throne Room being trashed would become omnipresent in internal Combine propaganda for years … but that was about all he had gotten. The damage to NAIS was the single glaring dark spot - but I had a sneaking suspicion as I skimmed some of the shots and commentary that Hanse was having it dramatically played up for the sake of ComStar. I knew for a fact that everything in any way irreplaceable had been evacuated weeks ago along with the key personnel while these reports were hinting at the opposite. And while Kurita may have thought that he could take out Hanse and derail the Federated Commonwealth (and had come more terrifyingly close than I liked to admit), in the end he had failed.
In short; this had been a failure for House Kurita.
Not a complete failure and as failures went it was pretty spectacular … but a failure none the less that Hanse was no doubt going to make lemonade from both internally and externally.
I dreaded the thought of what my role in that might be-
Any further thought however was cut off by a brisk knocking at the door.
“Come in!” I called loudly and the gaggle of medical staff came in, right on time.
I tried not to think about how some of the devices they were pushing on trolleys or carrying looked just a little sinister. Scolding myself and noting that these were professionals here doing a job, which wasn’t to inflict pain on me, I sat up and set the paper aside.
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Well that had been ****** painful.
The medical staff it turned out were professional, thorough … and merciless.
Cunning too; they had lured me into a false sense of security with a lot of housekeeping first. Checking my vitals, asking me the usual questions and gently poking at me before removing my neck brace, medical sensors and the IV (and letting me go to the bathroom when I realized I really needed to go!).
Then, they had brutalized me. Starting by removing the bandages over my electrical burns on my shoulder, poking them, then spraying something that stung like a ******.[/I]
I kept reminding myself, as I clenched my jaw, the fact that I could feel the agony was a good thing because it meant the burns were only shallow and hadn’t damaged any of the nerves or deeper tissues.
But Blakes balls; it ****** hurt and made me glad I had the thick blanket of the bed to bite, hard, as they finished by replacing a new waterproof adhesive bandage on top.
I wonder if this was some kind of tradition for Mechwarriors who lost Mechs. A kind of ritual punishment for such an incredible disgrace, just missing the crazy woman ringing the bell shouting ‘SHAME!’ every few seconds.
Or perhaps even the modern day equivalent of the Greek Slave whispering in the ear to note that all glory was fleeting and you were only a man. Making sure the Mighty Mechwarrior understood how badly they had ****** up...by making us understand that we were still meatbags and not titans of metal and myomer…
Seriously, I already knew all that, can we stop now?!
The thoughts provided a useful distraction as I suffered through the pain - but then, pain meant you were alive. And I knew full well there were a lot of people who would have given anything to swap their injuries for mine. And yet others whose families would be soon enough getting a priority HPG message they would have probably dreaded the possibility of receiving since their family member declared they were enlisting in the AFFS...
So I shut up and sucked it up as they proceeded to run me through a whole lot of stretches and other tests, making my body twist and move, doing what amounted to some minor chiropractic or adjustments or something.
Eventually, they reached the end of their work and sounded pleased, finishing my injecting me with a mild painkiller that took most of the edge off (thank God), but they also warned me to take it easy walking around for the rest of the day. My right foot sprain was just about fully recovered (a side benefit of being off it for five days apparently) but going too hard too soon could be counter-productive.
I mean, no shit Sherlocks, but perhaps they assumed every Mechwarrior thought they were God's gift to mankind and didn’t need to take it easy?
After waiting for the painkiller to really kick in (and mentally forcing myself not to add the medical staff to my list of people who needed to die for the good of mankind between Myndo Waterly and Lincoln Osis) I took their advice to heart and stood carefully, making my way to where Janace had indicated my package was, finding the AFFS kit bag waiting for me. With that in hand, I headed back into the bathroom and stripped out of my hospital gown, taking the time to regard my naked body in the mirror.
Damn.
My right shoulder was covered in a bandage of course, but I had (mostly healed) minor cuts all over my face and upper arms; anywhere I hadn’t been wearing my cooling vest and undershirt. There were bruises everywhere (I didn’t want to even think about how bad I must have looked when I was dragged in here) and while the staff had clearly been keeping me clean ...
The last time I had felt and looked this miserable was staggering back to the quad with my cadet platoon after the end-of-boot week-long exercise crawling through half of Sakhara V’s mud-
And at that memory, my face dropped.
Sighing, I turned away from the mirror, looking for something more productive to do than try to talk to the ghosts of my friends. Accordingly, I proceeded to the small shower enclosure, hit the water and stepped in -
Oh God. That felt gooooooood.
I took a seat on the small bench in the shower - the absolute last thing I needed was to fall over in the shower after my ankle suddenly buckled, cracking my ribs again - and I got to work scrubbing myself clean with the lowest-bidder soap NAIS provided - it was a significant step down compared to the stuff I had sort of become used to in the Royal Apartments and it took a few passes, but eventually I had sloughed off the crap left over from a hard fought battle followed by a large chunk of a week immobilized in a hospital bed. And with that done, I leaned back against the tiles behind me and let the hot water just flow over me, my mind drifting with the steam.
Five days!
I mean it was silly to be put off by being out of the loop for so short a time compared to the last time I had ‘woken up’ at the NAIS translocated a thousand years and an entire quantum reality away from where I had gone to sleep. And getting my ribs repaired in four days rather than six weeks? That was a deal I would have made…
But in those five days my life had taken just a bit of a shift. My quiet existence as a bit of a ghost who haunted Hanse Davions palace and stole the food out of his fridge when he wasn’t looking?
Well, it looked like that was well and truly over.
Apparently, now I was ‘JOHN SMITH: HERO OF THE IMPERIUM...err...FEDERATION!’
But then, what exactly did I think would happen to my profile after what happened in the battle?
Short of Hanse covering up my survival, giving me a mustache and letting me come back as ‘Private Perkins’...
Or perhaps we could have pulled off a more ‘Dark Knight Rises’ ending I thought as the water washed over me. Pull the heroic sacrifice, get a statue of me at the NAIS all while I went off to live quietly under a new identity with an Anne Hathaway look alike as awesome heroic music plays in the background...
Hmm. You know … that really didn’t sound so bad. Dumbass on me I suppose, for not putting the idea in Hanse’s suggestion box before the battle.
Shaking my head at the odd tangent, I stood and killed the water, deciding I had spent more than enough time ‘soaking and sulking’. I dried off -with some care- before proceeding to use the shaving gear provided to return my face to a far more civilised look. I toyed, for a moment, with starting to work towards a goatee for an evil Smith look, but decided that as no-one would get the joke - well except maybe Solomon Storm - it wouldn’t really work, so I shaved it all off.
With that done and starting to feel human again, I opened my kit bag and found first of all a fresh AFFS Duty Uniform and the other bits and pieces I needed to get dressed. Also included was a pair of polished dress boots and my personal effects, including my AFFS and NAIS ID cards and the few other bits and pieces I had been carrying while in my Battlemech. My sidearm wasn’t there, but that wasn’t terribly worrying. NAIS security got twitchy about people carrying weapons or leaving unsecured weapons around, even in the best of times.
And these were not the best of times I’m sure for the campus.
I couldn’t help but grin in the mirror as I pulled my trousers on, thinking about the look that would be on the face of Bob Horst when he came to work the day after the raid. The head of NAIS Interior Security, Horst had the (admittedly thankless) task of maintaining security on a campus that was half Top Secret Government R&D and half the top university in an Interstellar Empire which was known to have incredibly creative students always looking for ways to have fun. Imposing order, keeping bored kids from doing stupid things (like pranks that might have DMI commandos responding with loaded weapons) was a thankless job even at the best of times but coming to work to find a Jenner sitting in his office...
Pulling on the undershirt - carefully so as not to do anything to my burns - I slipped on my dog tags and then picked up the standard Duty Uniform slash BDU jacket to slip on over the undershirt, catching sight of the left shoulder board in the mirror as I buttoned it up. It was no longer blank, but edged with a gold metallic thread … which reminded me I was no longer a cadet or a subaltern.
Now I was a Lieutenant in the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns.
My commissioning had been somewhat jarring given that Hanse knew exactly what I thought about people getting promoted rapidly beyond their ability. I had had enough conversations with the Prince and his inner circle where I had denounced Aleksandr Kerensky as the most Social General of all Social Generals given that he went from a ‘Butterbar’ to the Commanding General of the Star League Defense Forces in about eleven years (thus explaining the complete lack of the strategic competency you’d expect the Commanding General to have) and I thought he would avoid that with me of all people.
In theory, AFFS Mechwarrior training took two years from boot to deployment. Officer training stretched it out to four, although officer-cadets at academies spaced out both aspects of their training over that time. Often with the fourth year spent as part of a ‘practical’ field cadre that could very well see itself on the front line. I had only completed a little bit over a year's worth of training total - one quarter the total training time! - before Ardan Sortek had yanked me to go and help him slap Jamie Wolf.
And while I had spent most of another year sitting in on carefully selected NAIS classes when I could (in between doing desk work in the Fox’s Den or playing a punching bag in my Battlemech for Morgan), it still left me grossly under qualified in my judgement. 50% formally trained if I was being charitable! I had in fact hoped to continue classes at CMS at the start of this year to get back on track with a formal education...
That … hadn’t happened.
Hanse instead, just before the new year, had formally commissioned me as an officer in the AFFS and put me to work part time in the Fox’s Den. Then after four months instead of the traditional six, shortly before Kurita had popped in ... he had promoted me to Lieutenant! And given me my ‘spurs’ - very real spurs for my dress uniform - which Mechwarriors earned when designated as ready for field deployment.
It had taken considerable effort on my part not to throw them back at him and demand to know if he had lost his ****** mind.
Well that and the presence of a half dozen other senior officers in earshot not cleared to know why I might feel the need to do so. Or expected to get away with such gross disrespect to the First Prince.
He had justified his decision to me later (not that he had to justify shit given that he was, you know, the Marshal of the AFFS and had absolute authority to promote anyone to any position he wanted) on the grounds that I had apparently ‘proven myself as an Officer who didn’t need the training wheels rookie kids half my age did’.
I mean, the difference between a Subaltern and a Lieutenant was really just a question of recognition, but it was a recognition that said Officer was fully trained and ready and had shown he or she could handle their commission. But worse and more surprising to me, none of the normally level headed people around Hanse disagreed with the decision.
Morgan (who was already breveted to Major and was commanding a bloody Regiment) had been unsurprisingly unsympathetic given the weight on his shoulders, although I thought that it was an unfair comparison given A) His shoulders were ****** insane in how broad they were and B) he had been preparing and training his entire life for that role with the typical Davion exceptionalism bonuses stacking in his favor to the point he was legitimately better in simulated Battalion level combat than experienced AFFS field officers!
But even good old level headed Yvonne Davion had told me, bluntly, when I had quietly tried to protest to her, that Hanse had commissioned me because he had concluded I was ready.
And she concurred.
And the things I didn't know right now were of no immediate import to my current role, being things I could pick up later if necessary. Ergo, get back to work, because she was expecting my annotations on the Draconis Combine Situation Report within the hour. But I could have a cookie from the jar on my way out.
And that had ended that conversation.
Shaking my head slightly at the absurdity that was my life and how even the ‘most professional military’ in Battletech still felt like a game of noble privilege with exceptions to every rule anywhere you turned, I finished getting dressed and left the bathroom, leaving my boots off for now as I returned into my room.
I locked the door, closed the blinds and after consideration took a seat on the edge of the bed whose back I raised as high as it would go to sit against on the grounds that the table and chair looked horribly cheap and uncomfortable for someone as tall as me. The authentication sequence on the noteputer was tedious, being forced to let a tiny needle stab my finger to get a blood sample it could sequence and check against the recorded verigraphed identity, followed by booting into a ‘charmingly’ simplistic operating system that again made me cry out for iOS or Android.
Hell I’d settle for Windows CE at this point rather than this primitive POS…
Then again, exactly how many tablets back home came with DNA level biometric authentication?
The noteputer pinged as it authenticated and opened and I found it was loaded with the standard offline messaging system used for transferring electronic documents via courier. Which was a statement in of itself; such tablets were at a premium with sealed orders being hand delivered to field commanders after all.
Opening said app, I found the messages were gibberish but once I entered the ten digit hash code that Quintus had forced me to memorize, the messages shifted into clear text.
And it looked like the first was from …
Katrina Steiner?
Well that’s unexpected I thought, wondering with a frown why she of all people would want to send me a message from the other side of the Inner Sphere.
…
Well, I wasn’t going to find out why just staring at it I thought, eventually, slightly reluctantly, opening the message and starting to read.
‘John’ her message started in typically direct fashion. ‘Many years ago on Tharkad, you might recall I told you exactly what I would have been prepared to give in exchange for what you had brought Hanse and I that day.’
I snorted at that. ‘Might recall’ my ass - it wasn’t every day you were told a mother (who was the de facto High Queen of an interstellar empire) would have been willing to offer her daughter's hand (aka the Crown Princess) in marriage to get her hands on what I had offered.
Especially given that I knew better than most people just what Melissa meant to Katrina.
‘And yet, despite that hint, you remained entirely indifferent to seeking any kind of reward or compensation for what you had done for us’ I continued to read, almost hearing her sharp voice in my head. ‘I admit that I found your attitude, your intransigence, almost beyond my ability to comprehend. My obligations as a House Lord for rewarding - and indeed, publicly rewarding- exceptional service with exceptional recognition is absolute. Hard or soft, rewards and recognition; it is as much a pillar of the Neo-Feudal system as landholds. But here was you. An outsider to us all in the most unique way possible. In one action, you had given Hanse and I the keys to the future in the palm of our hands ... yet you asked for nought in return. And while Hanse was confident you believed in our vision - so much so he insisted upon the modification to the Federated Commonwealth accords so history would know full well your role in due time- I could not help but continue to hold grave suspicions about you.’
Well that was … worrying.
I hadn’t realized Katrina had been so … distrusting of me and I shivered a little at the thought. Kartina Steiner was very much in the top five list of people in the Inner Sphere I would not want to have looking at me suspiciously. Ever.
And so it was with some trepidation I kept scrolling down and reading-
‘For that however, I find I owe you a personal and direct apology.’
Ah - that sounded more promising!
‘Even at that time I knew in my heart, even if my Archons head refused to listen to it, that I was being unfair. Especially given the difference between our cultures. In hindsight, I think more than anything else I was shaken more than I was willing to admit by the sheer arrogance of some outsider standing in judgement over my sister the way you had. My own flesh and blood. The woman who had sacrificed so much for me and her nation, so selflessly in ways even you of all people, I think, do not understand. And yet here you were, condemning her for things so far in the future they seemed completely impossible ... right up until I saw everything with my own eyes from Helm. And it became clear that I was less angry with you being wrong … and more quietly terrified that you could very well be right. Which meant I would need to have a talk with my sibling that I never would have dreamed I would ever need to have.’
I considered that and leaned a little more into the pillows on the bed to stare at the ceiling, putting the tablet down on my lap for a second.
Trying to think about things from Katrina's point of view.
Nondi Steiner had been The Bitch’s right hand throughout her reign - no if’s and’s or but’s. Fanatic in her loyalty to Katherine Steiner-Davion, seeing her with breathtaking blindness as Katrina 2.0 even as she betrayed first everything Katrina had tried to build as she sided with Katherine over Victor. Betraying her troops and ultimately the Lyran people right up to the day she was blown away by Peter Steiner-Davion.
Undeniably, Nondi Steiner had been one of the key players in ripping the Federated Commonwealth apart - and ultimately, she’d set the Lyran state on the path of being turned into the laughing stock of the Inner Sphere in the later Battletech timeline in her raging hatred for anything influenced by House Davion.
But here and now, she was Katrina’s loyal and component right hand. One of a very few people she could call family that Katrina could trust absolutely. The rest of her extended family at court, her own flesh and blood, were mostly made up of people like Alessandro and Ryan Steiner, all but begging for her to trip so they could guide her into the pit-trap. And with the death of both their parents and Katrina’s husband, she was -along with Melissa of course- the only immediate family the Archon had left.
And on reflection, I had kinda barged into her life without warning and perhaps a bit too casually condemned her sister as the right hand of the woman who would kill Katrinas daughter to seize the throne of the Commonwealth and do unspeakable crimes to keep her there.
Using quite graphic language to boot.
All because some Battletech writers back home with a stroke of a pen or a clatter of keys had made the character of Nondi Steiner so.
It had been a lesson for me of something I should have known; as much as my own actions could change history for the better, so could others in turn change their own fates.
That they were human beings, not mere words on a page.
In my ‘heart-to-heart’ with Nondi on Tharkad, I had been slightly nonplussed to see in her eyes what my revelations had done to shake the person who I had always seen as defining the word ‘implacable’. It had started to dawn on me then just what it meant to wake up one day and have me there, like some ancient ‘medicine man’ in the village tribe lifting a long shaking finger to point at her and pronounce her as the curse who would bring doom down upon as all as everyone looked on in horrified belief…
Our little ‘clearing of the air’ had done much to let us part on better terms though. With a handful of quotes from Back to the Future and Terminator and a handshake, I’d managed to make the point clear, I think. That there truly was no fate, but what we made for ourselves … and that the future had not yet been written for any of us. And that I owed her that future.
But oddly enough, through all of that, I hadn’t ever really thought about Katrina.
The sister. Not the Archon.
‘Shooting the messenger, as it were, was childish of me’ Katrina continued as I managed to drag my attention back to the letter and force myself to keep reading. ‘Unworthy of your efforts on Our behalf and entirely unworthy of my station. The role of Archon is not to shy away from hard truths or difficult decisions simply because I don’t like them. Your character was clear long before you arrived on-planet in the way you stood up to Hanse Davion quite directly on the subject of my daughter's agency - a gesture both she and I took considerable notice of, I can assure you. The friendship that she has come to value so highly with you from that has been a great personal comfort to me when I often think of her on New Avalon. Knowing she has someone she can -and has- turned to as a friend. Your escorting her, incognito, to the NAIS social meant the world to her; more than any of the shiploads of wedding presents given to her on Terra. And indeed, as you awaken from the end result of those events that were set into motion that night, I find I must thank you again as a mother and future grandmother for what you did in this battle. Reading between the lines of her and Prince Davions messages over the last few days, I strongly suspect my daughter placed upon you a grave charge of keeping her husband alive as ‘the one sane man’ that may have driven you to the extreme actions you undertook and if so …’
‘Ultimately John, after hearing how perilously close to dying you came, at least in part for the sake of my daughter and grandchild, I can only state to you my shame at having, even in some small way, continued to suspect your intentions. This is a debt of trust to add to the ever increasing debt I find myself in to you, but I promise you that, as House Lannister is so fond of saying, I always pay my debts.
With the deepest regards,
Katrina Steiner.’
I swallowed as I closed the file, suddenly feeling the urge to shiver.
Was it possible I wondered to myself, for the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth not to sound ominous as she quoted Tywin Lannister like that?
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The rest of the letters were more in line with what I expected, which was less heavy work to take in after Katrina's apology.
One from Ardan Sortek congratulated me on (and thanked me for) managing to keep Hanse alive despite himself. He also noted that he was going to have to have a very long and firm talk with Jonny and Jimmy over what ‘stick to Hanse like glue and don’t let him do anything stupid’ meant and I didn’t envy them that. Sortek was generally a very easygoing person to be around if he liked you, but if you pissed him off…
There were a few more kind words about the aftermath of one’s first battle and a not-quite-order to find someone to talk to about it in person within the first forty eight hours after waking up and I took the hint … even if the person I would have chosen, wasn’t around right now.
Said person, Morgan Hasek-Davion, the Broest of Bros, had also included a letter. It was full of praise - congratulating himself on being such an outstanding and exceptional teacher. The smug level was very high at his pointing out how flawlessly I had executed the ‘wrist-snap’ he had taught me to protect myself from the DFA from the Griffin for example.
But it was all very clearly tongue-in-cheek and made me laugh enough to cause my ribs to grumble a bit and ended with a pretty heartfelt apology that he couldn’t be here when I woke up, but he was being shipped off to New Sytris to join Ardan Sortek to get things ‘organized’.
Which, I knew was code for helping to organize the Capellan March’s entrance into the war on one hand … and in a more subtle way, starting to stamp his authority on New Sytris with his father in the shithouse here on New Avalon as part of Hanse’ many plans that I neither knew about (nor particularly wanted to know about mind you).
I didn’t envy him that vipers nest his father had left, although I had a rather strong feeling Hanse had been preparing the ground for Morgan for some time. The media manipulation (because seriously I’d call a spade a spade even if it was a ‘good’ spade) Hanse had engaged in through the Capellan March was surely doing overtime showing off Morgans -genuinely- exceptional leading of the Davion Honor Guard through the battle on New Avalon. Making sure he was welcomed back home as New Sytris’s favorite son, hero of the Realm and all that.
Yvonne Davion’s Chief of Staff (or more probably his staff as the General had frankly better things to do) had sent a brief message that seemed to be more basic housekeeping than anything. First, congratulating me with my provisional ‘kill sheet’ attached - and my eyes went wide as I saw just what the AFFS was crediting me with, making a mental note to go over the BattleROM footage personally because that seemed far too high.
Next came the paperwork confirming my Battlemech had been destroyed in an authorized AFFS defensive action and the right arm was being stored by the AFFS until I decided what to do with said arm. Although the intact ERPPC had already been ‘yoinked’ by the AFFS under regulation bla bla bla that came down to ‘Hanse Davion had a plan for what he wanted to do with it’.
I didn’t exactly care, it wasn’t going to be doing me any good sitting in a warehouse after all.
It also turned out my ejection seat had ended up surprisingly intact in a rooftop garden of a student dorm building. Which would probably make a great conversation starter at any rooftop BBQs the kids had going forward...
Most happily for me, they had saved the advanced SLDF neurohelmet (which had also probably saved me from doing damage to my skull as I had crashed into the ground). That thing had proven to be worth ten times its weight in Germanium through the battle, smoothing out my piloting and probably saving my life a half dozen times. I would have been pissed at myself if I had gotten that damaged beyond repair, because that I knew was a bit of technology the NAIS were still a long way from replicating.
And then finally, to prove that the bureaucracy would have its due, attached was a standard AFFS AAR file, with a request to have it filled in by zero-nine hundred hours tomorrow morning, with a promise-slash-threat that a DMI courier would be coming to pick up the noteputer at that time.
I immediately felt a headache startup, to add to the other pains of my body.
Paperwork.
The inevitable aftermath of a victorious battle where the REMF’s could get to you. I had done these forms once or twice for practice at Sakhara, but there seemed to be an awful lot of extra attachments listed on this one...
Sighing, I pushed it for the side for now and moved onto the next message, this time a short one from Hanse Davion. He thanked me directly (and quite genuinely I think) for saving his life and noting that it was yet another ‘one’ he owed me. Then, he didn’t quite smugly state that my performance vindicated everything he had told me about how I was ready for this … before spending an inordinate amount of time not quite begging for me to intercede with his wife who seemed to think he had let her down in some way.
Ah. Melissa was pissed at him. Good for her!
That of course brought me to the message from Melissa. Which slightly exasperated me again because it seemed she felt guilty about guilt tripping me into keeping her husband safe.
Which was touching ... but silly.
I mean, I would admit I had used the image trying to explain to her why I had run and hid in a hole rather than keeping Hanse alive as ‘inspiration’ a couple of times during the battle, but I hadn’t needed her to tell me my duty.
Well, not much anyway.
In the final analysis, I had sworn the oath to join the AFFS of my own free will (more or less) and indeed, before that, I had sworn my allegiance, personally, to Hanse Davion and House Davion.
The rest of her letter was filled with profuse and heartfelt thanks ‘for seemingly being the only sane person out there!’, bemoaning the ‘Davion Martyr Complex’ we had both spent more than a few afternoons quietly venting our frustrations over. That had once again presented itself with Hanse (to say nothing of Morgan and Jackson who had done their part to keep the theme going) and making it clear that if I needed someone to talk to about any of this, she rather expected me to do so immediately.
Because apparently she had forgotten there was a very very small list of people both qualified to talk to me about these things who knew the full truth about these things.
Setting that aside as I closed down the message app and secured the computer, I sighed again and considered my next move, feeling slightly at a loss.
I should probably get started on the damn after action reports … but there were other things to do first.
Like eat.
After all, I had been ‘eating’ nothing but some kind of super advanced IV the last few days. And the medical staff had told me I was free to eat, albeit, for today they wanted me to eat light and had given me a list of entirely unappetizing sounding foods that they had coded back onto my NAIS access card (that would now get me those foods and nothing else). Unless I course I wanted to throw up in reaction to the drugs still flushing their way out of my system.
Still, even hospital food was better than more IVs I suppose.
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I should have stayed in bed with the IVs I kept telling myself with a sigh as I hacked my way through the After Action Report one painful paragraph at a time while chewing down the ‘food’ I had been given.
The food didn’t taste anything like as bad as it looked. But its texture …
Mush was definitely the word of the day. So much so I was rather torn on if sneaking out of the hospital and trying to grab something else (at the risk of throwing up all over the place) was a risk worth taking...but after realising my odds of making it past the nurses station was rather low, I sighed and turned my attention back to the cursor blinking on the screen that was refusing to move forward.
The AAR had come with comments by some staff officer directing me what I needed to do, which was both a blessing and a curse. It did lay out exactly what I needed to write up in common sense language, but it also increased what I needed to write up by a factor of about ten over what I should have been forced to write.
It seemed my ‘borrowing’ of six Battlemechs from the cadet battalion without the slightest command authorisation or authority to do so meant I had to write up a whole ****** of data about how it happened. As well as Why it happened. And finally who the hell I thought I was to do such a thing without the aforementioned approval.
It also seemed that as I had made myself a de-facto Company Commander, I damn well had to do a Company Commanders writeup for Pappa Company, including a report on each of the Mechwarriors I had shanghaied. Which was actually important because it would become part of their official records.
I would have complained and bitched about the workload ... but the only people I could realistically bitch to were Davions.
And I knew exactly where my complaining would get me with those bloody workaholics.
So there was nothing for it but to keep slogging on. Hour after ****** hour. Keystroke after ****** keystroke...
My memories of the battle were still a little disjointed. I did make a point to stress my admiration for Davud Kudo and his leadership skills. Man had kept his head screwed on straight and shown genuine leadership and personal courage - it took quite significant chutzpah to go hand-to-hand with a Battlemech that outmassed you by twenty tons. The other cadets I tried to highlight the positives as best I could, although I honestly didn’t know how Pappa Six and Seven had been disabled and said as much but I did know from the paper that the unit had collectively been credited with taking down Akira's battlemech and Stengovich had gotten another kill shortly after when she had nailed the chest of a beaten up Clint that had failed to see her on the ground or dismissed her as inactive-
“Hiding in the corner isn’t going to work forever” a dry voice cut into my concentration and I glanced up with an annoyed sigh from my corner in the mostly empty commissary, planning to tell whoever it was to get lost. Or if they outranked me, to get lost Sir-
“Ben?!” I said instead - and in no small amount of surprise, my annoyance vanishing as if a switch had been thrown. I started to come to my feet but Dr Ben ‘Buckaroo’ Banzai gestured at me to sit as he limped over. His right lower leg was in a cast (hence the limp) and he was walking with the aid of a metal cane in his right arm. And as he was also dressed with his NAIS lab coat on and still had that damn beard he had been growing over the last few weeks for some reason that had been driving Penny insane …
You know, from this angle, he looked almost bizarrely like Hugh Laurie playing ‘Doctor House’ from my old Earth days. He even fit the character profile too, come to think of it.
The genius part, not the insufferable lazy ****** part I mean.
“I read the summary of the battle in the paper a few hours back” I said as he didn’t quite collapse into his chair with a sigh, feeling myself fidgeting. “Ben … I’m so-”
“I’m a mercenary John” he cut me off firmly. “So are all my people. We chose this life and knew the score going in. And beyond the pay, this time we were fighting for our home. Frankly, that we only lost six people from the Cavaliers is a minor miracle” he said, pausing for a second to shake his head once, his expression turning almost to one of grudging acknowledgement. “You know, Kurita fought this about as clean as you could in an urban slugfest. If we had been facing your typical Sword of Light unit who knew there was no way out, they would have made it a point to put a shot or two into every cockpit of every Mech they took down to make sure we didn’t ever get back up. The sheer number of TCLs that didn’t result in pilot losses is pretty incredible for fighting the Combine.”
I shivered at that thought I tried to meet his gaze, feelingly slightly taken aback by how … casual he seemed to be about the losses, but he in turn sharpened his gaze and I felt anything I had been about to say vanish into nothing as he clearly knew what I was thinking. He held that gaze for a time, before finally speaking up in a lower voice.
“It’s always the hardest the first time you lose friends in a battle” he said, simply. “It never gets any easier either … but you do learn that moping around in a corner won’t help much either” he added with a gentle yet firm look.
Oh come on I silently protested at his sustained look that made me flinch away and glance down at the computer's screen and the clock on it. I’ve only been awake less than a day! It’s not like I’m going full Kai Allard-Liao … am I?
I paused to consider that. Then shook my head.
No, my emo levels weren't anywhere near that … yet.
So perhaps you should quit while you were ahead John?
“Have … the funerals happened yet?” I asked after swallowing past the unpleasant taste the question brought up as I confronted things head on. Or was that just mush reflux?
“No, they’re this Friday” he shook his head once. “There is going to be a service at Notre Dame for all the dead - on our side anyway. ComStar are working with us on the Kuritans and shipping either their bodies or their ashes back to their families.”
“Good to see the toaster worshippers are good for something” I scoffed and barely held back a dark comment about being sure ROM had been cheering on House Kurita as they stormed into the NAIS.
There were things, after all, even inside the NAIS, that you simply did not talk about in ‘public’.
“Anyway. Not to change the subject completely” Banzai said in using words and a done that made it very clear he was changing the subject completely away from things we probably shouldn’t talk about or didn’t want to talk about, “but how is this going?” he said, reaching out to lightly tap the noteputer.
I snorted.
“Slowly” was about all I could say to that. BB huffed in amusement.
“I’ll bet. Come on let's go to my office, I’ll help you finish it off.”
“Sounds like a plan” I agreed, not quite vindictively snapping the noteputer closed and converting it into its traveling configuration like a little secure briefcase before a sudden idea popped into my head as I firmly pushed the remains of the food away from me. “I don’t suppose you could ‘break’ me out to the local Tripple F?” I asked in some hope … which was dashed with a chiding look from the Doc.
“The only thing that would be more likely to make you throw up then that would be taking you for a spin in my new hover-racer prototype down at the test track” he shook his head as I followed him out the door. “The drugs they used to keep you out - and those that woke you up for that matter- need the rest of the day to be fully flushed out of your system or you’ll throw back up what you eat outside of medicated food in about sixty seconds. Not that most people can keep that fast food crap down for even that long” he added under his breath and I simply rolled my eyes. As incredibly cool as it was to have a friend like BB who looked simultaneously like a Mad Scientist, Cyborg Cop and Section-31 Admiral ... the man was a hell of a food snob.
More so than bluebloods in the Davion Palace!
“Well, put someone to work on fixing that” I muttered, earning an amused huff as we made our way to the lift, both of us walking a little slower than usual, that horrible mush annoyingly seeming to stay down very well indeed when I really wanted to throw it back up.
I mean, why the hell would you spend all that R&D money making horrible food stay down so well ... rather than fixing drugs that made you want to throw up real food??
It crystalized a long held belief of mind that hospital food was as bad as it was entirely to make you want to get better and get the hell out of the hair of the hospital staff.
I stepped into the lift as it arrived and we descended, all the way to the sub basement. There, BB led me through first several secure doors, then manned security checkpoints where our IDs were checked carefully and logged before we were allowed into the rat warren of tunnels under the NAIS. Waiting at this particular gate was one of the golf-cart like vehicles that was the choice of transport around the hundred klicks of tunnels sized for vehicles and we got underway quickly, BB filling me in on what was going up upstairs as we drove.
Apparently the College of Engineering was going to need to be rebuilt from the ground up and the setbacks, especially for a lot of civilian projects, were going to be painful and take years to even begin to rectify. The College of Mining and Metallurgy was going to need half of its buildings reworked but was less impacted, although an out of control fire had gutted most of the College of Chemistry (I’m sure there was a joke there somewhere) which was another major blow. No personnel had been lost outside of the members of Team Banzai and the CMS instructors who had fought with the cadets, but student classes would be delayed by a month until NAIS satellite facilities across the planet (that were being hastily expanded from their original purposes) were ready for classes.
All up, it would be at least a year or two before the physical damage at NAIS was really made good and the second and third order disruptions would last for a year or two beyond that. Which was actually interesting as the paper I had read had been very determined to suggest the disruptions would last for at least five years or even ten. A fact that BB confirmed was the story MIIO was going with. Partially to lay the ground for the next phase of the shadow war with ComStar and partially so Hanse and Katrina could flush a lot more money into the ‘rebuilding’ program that would be laundered into new black compartments elsewhere. Because you might as well use the opportunity.
But there was no doubting in my mind this was a major setback where every God’s damned year we wasted trying to push technology back to the Star League or beyond was another one lost on the doomsday countdown to the Clan invasion.
‘You may ask me for anything, but not time’ was still just as valid a saying today as it had been in Napoleon’s era.
****** Snakes.
We talked about the cleanup operations - the actual cleanup would start next week, once the salvage and EOD teams had finished their sweeps, BB looking like he was a little bit glum from what would be needed going forward. Trying to cheer him up, after a moment I eagerly suggested that he should make sure going forward that time-lapse cameras were set to record the cleanup and then new construction. When he asked why, I pointed out that it would be awesome if in a few years from now, when we had the footage, if he and the Hong Kong Cavaliers would release a music video of ‘We built this city on rock and roll!’ by Starship using it to showcase the NAIS rising from the ashes. Suggesting it needed to include at least one Atlas with an enormous construction hard-hat on its head and painted in black and yellow construction paint cheerfully bobbing along as it ripped down walls and loaded rubble onto dump trucks. Interposed with time skips of the time lapse videos showing the buildings soaring back into the sky and bopping construction Mechs-
At that point BB told me he’d consider it, looking at me like he was wondering if the drugs I had been on were having unexpected side effects.
Pft. Last time I try to cheer him up! And it would have been awesome. ‘We built this city on rock and roooooollllll’...
Shortly after that conversation petered out we arrived in BBs office and I got back to work. He was a big help getting me through the report, so much so that at first I didn’t notice that he was using this opportunity to walk me through the engagement, offering his straight forward observations of my decision making and actions through the battle. He often found ways to put them into a new context I hadn’t quite considered, especially where the cadets were concerned. Critiquing some of my decisions constructively while letting me work through them, praising others and querying me on my insights until I finally realized he was as much debriefing me as helping me write my debriefing.
When it finally clicked and I asked him when Melissa had asked him to step in and check on me he hadn’t even shown the slightest hint of being phased by the question. Noting that as Hanse and Melissa were away (with the former to my amusement apparently spending the last four days all but crawling on his belly as he groveled to earn his wife's forgiveness for ‘some perhaps rash’ decisions in the battle) and Yvonne Davion was busy holding down the fort, Morgan and Ardan were offworld … well, there was a bit of a shortage of qualified people to do the job.
So, yes, she had called him and asked if he would be so kind to check up on me and debrief me to make sure I was okay.
And his final conclusion on the battle?
Simply that if I ever got tired of working for Hanse directly, he would be more than happy to offer me command of a Lance in his unit, with an eye to moving me up to a Company slot as soon as I got up to speed.
Coming from Ben Banzai, who would never offer such a thing lightly or to simply make me ‘feel better’ … well, it made me feel that maybe, just maybe, I had managed to at least do ‘good-enough’ by the cadets I had led. Who had fought like true Mechwarriors.
And I finally said as much, falling right into the trap.
Because then he said that it was quite good that I had finally realized that, opening a box at his feet to pull out a small wooden box with a familiar crest of a red Fox inlaid on the lid, as well as a shrink wrapped package of clothes. Giving me a sudden sinking feeling...
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The NAIS had plenty of auditoriums across its campus - which was hardly unsurprising for a place that was, at its heart, a giant university. This one was in the NAIS Base Hospital - one of the four major hospitals on-campus, dedicated to treating AFFS wounded. And while normally the large room would be used for lectures on the latest recovered lostech procedures and technology in treating wounded soldiers, this time it was actually filled with wounded soldiers.
Specifically; the entire 4th year Mechwarrior Cadet class from the CMS and Albion. Just under two hundred cadets strong in total.
The cadets in the front rows - those who had actually fought- were often sporting bandages and casts of various types. At least two had lost limbs and BB had told me earlier that two more were still in induced comas and so not here.
Plus the four dead members - who had seats deliberately left unfilled, each with a Federated Suns flag draped over it in somber memory. But most of them were here and listening in rapt attention.
Behind those who had fought, the rest of the 4th year cadets sat. Those who had not made the ‘cut’ to participate in the battle - be it because they didn’t own a family Battlemech or, bluntly, because they were not good enough to be allowed to face off against Combine elites yet.
I had feared that the battle would drive a schism right through the cadets. Between those who had fought through the battle and those who had been evacuated to New Scotland, but I was clearly very wrong about that. Marshal Grentha DeBurton, the head of AFFS Education who was the keynote, even spoke to it. She had first warmly congratulated the cadets who had fought in the battle, but then she had addressed the cadets who hadn’t fought. Noting that they had passed an arguably more brutal test of character; being ordered to wait on the sidelines while their friends fought for their lives. To follow their orders as their commanders spent the lives of their friends to win the battle, an order they may well have to give sooner than they thought.
But today was clearly primarily about those who had fought.
I had spent a lot of the evening and night lying awake in my bed after heading back to my room, trying to work on what the hell I was going to say to all these people after dismissing the idea of being petulant and telling Hanse to give his own damn speeches. In the end, it was what Janice had said to me that got me writing. Her not-quite mocking me as she pointed out that mere words couldn't have gotten a bunch of terrified ‘kids’ to charge after me into the fire.
Even now, I was making subtle adjustments on the paper as the event rolled on, fretting a little as I realized this was really, for all intents and purposes, my real introduction to public life and wondering if I was going too far...
A round of applause broke out and I glanced out as I noticed that the Marshal had finished her speech. Her NCO aide, Master Sergeant Dirk Kentrick, moved to the lectern and once the crowd settled, he started to call up the cadets one by one. A couple of them needed a touch of help to get up the stairs but every single one in turn marched up to the Marshal, came to attention, saluted and shook her offered hand before she talked briefly with each of them (without the microphones on, keeping it personal). Then she was handed their spurs by her NCO and presented them to the cadet in question with a handshake and smile.
Some of them (okay, many of them) looked like they were on the verge of crying as they received the coveted item before they turned and saluted all the other officers on the stage, shook the hand and exchanged some more words with their company commander from the battle before having their official picture taken with said Marshal and Commander to the applause of the crowd.
And with that done, the cadet left the stage as the next was called up, the cycle starting all over again.
This unsurprisingly took some time.
The cadets were also being called up in order of their battle call signs. Which meant that everyone noticed when Sergeant Kentrick went from Rumble-13 to Rumble-17, skipping over three members of Rumble Battalion in the audience. Cadet Stengovich whom I had found after searching from my place hidden in the darkness had actually started to stand when the Marshal called out what she thought was her callsign, quickly sitting back down, exchanging glances with the two cadets next to her who had been also skipped over … and the three more further down the line as they were also skipped in turn.
Their combined ‘oh crap’ looks were actually somewhat amusing as it was obvious they were being skipped to be singled out for ‘special attention’.
Two words no Cadet ever ever wanted to hear from an Officer. Let alone a Flag Officer.
I took a moment to check my reflection one last time in a convenient mirror as Rumble-31 hobbled off stage and couldn’t help but frown slightly as I adjusted my collar. The jacket was pressing down a little bit uncomfortably over the bandages on my shoulder, even if the painkillers were taking care of what would have otherwise probably been a distracting throbbing. The dress uniform itself was utterly plain; with nothing except the red shoulder boards that identified me as a Lieutenant and a Mechwarrior - well the color and the spurs on my boots for that matter - on it. But that was it.
It was in fact the absolute minimum you could wear and still be in compliance with AFFS regulations.
I had a strong feeling that most people who looked at me would just assume I was hiding my real identity rather than genuinely being a complete noob who hadn’t even earned a single decoration in my life. It was a common move by DMI officers to deny the enemy information after all. Even more so because my sunburst vest and trousers weren't the blue/grey colour of the standard AFFS dress uniform ... but a brilliant white.
That was a privilege exclusive to one Brigade alone - and only when their regiment was home onNew Avalon.
The Davion Brigade of Guards.
And you didn’t get into the Brigade without either being the hottest damn Mechwarrior in your graduating class, or, being a combat veteran with a lot of experience.
Of course, no-one had actually bothered to tell me I was a member of said brigade until BB had handed over the uniform. I was, in fact, about ninety nine percent sure I hadn’t been a member of the 1st Davion - or any AFFS line unit for that matter. But it seemed someone had tweaked my service jacket while I was unconscious to show I had been part of the 1st Davion all along.
Now, if that was to make Hanse look a little less stupid by technically being able to claim that a member of the 1st Davion Guards had heroically saved him and thus they hadn’t ‘outsourced’ in their primary duty (above and beyond even the rest of the Brigade) of keeping the First Prince alive?
Or perhaps the Davion Guards simply wanted the glory of my suicidal charge appended to them?
Well, who the hell knew.
…
Okay, Hanse knew I suppose, but he wasn’t talking. And would probably do that annoying ‘just as planned’ smirk if I had bothered to bulldoze my way through MILNET to ask him, before hanging up on me. Although it was rather vexing to me that I hadn’t been told this until after I had finished my report; I could have saved a lot of typing if I could have written ‘First Princes Company in 1st Davion Guards, deal with it’ as my justification for doing whatever it took to save Hanse Davion. They -we- could get away with that a lot more than other units.
In any event I now marched out onto the stage once the Marshal looked over at me and nodded, the footsteps of my polished boots almost deafening in the silence. My head held high. I couldn't see anything looking straight ahead as I was, but I did hear a reaction. Sort of a massed intake of breath?
Or perhaps that was just the air conditioning and I was overthinking things and letting my ego get away from me.
In any event, I came to a halt before the Marshal and snapped a salute to her and by extension the other officers behind her. It was returned both immediately -and with frankly far too much respect in the length they held it for given our respective ranks - before they released it. That done, the Marshal gestured me wordlessly towards the podium and I moved there, handing the polished box I was carrying off to the Sergeant who accepted it, letting me reach up and click the button on the small microphone clipped to my collar, turning it on as I finally let my gaze sweep the crowd before me, slightly taken aback when I saw them all staring at me.
Okay, I think I had their attention. Now to see if I could keep it with this frankenstein's monster of a speech I’ve pieced together.
“Alone” I dropped the word without warning, letting it ring through the room.
I mean it wasn’t anywhere near as awesome as whoever Zeratul's voice actor had been in ‘Legacy of the Void’ mind you, but I think it worked well as an opening to grab attention.
“It is said that Mechwarriors stand alone on the battlefield” I continued “and there is some truth in that. To equal a single light Mech, it takes by conventional reckoning at least a platoon of conventional infantry, with the right weapons. Standing side by side and working together to become something much greater and far more deadly than the mere sum of their parts. Covering each other, fighting for each other, spilling their blood in the mud as titans brawl around them for only together can they hope to project a similar level of power.”
I let that sink in for about two seconds, reminding everyone hopefully of just what it took to be a PBI in the 31st century before continuing.
“The same is true for a tank,” I carried on smoothly. “Armor might very well match the destructive force of a Battlemech with its own tactical advantages and disadvantages, but a tank can only be fought by a crew. Artillery? Still the King of the Battlefield after thousands of years, doubt that and you will die very quickly. Yet it is reliant on an entire Kingdom of people all the way from the front lines to the logistics depot to bring its terrible power to bear effectively and accurately.”
Still had the attention of the entire cadet corps, so I sharpened my gaze slightly accordingly as I focused it in on all the newly minted Mechwarriors directly in front of me.
“A Mechwarrior is not unique because of some greater level of courage or heightened nobility or superior skill” I said, now letting my tone drop. “And anyone who thinks any of those things needs to stand up, hand back their spurs and walk out of this room, right now” I said rather more harshly, daring anyone to do so with my gaze.
Okay. I might have been crossing a line here. I knew full well there were those -even in the AFFS- who did think that Mechwarriors were just plain better people than other soliders ... but you know, ****** em.
The better ones utterly disdained such stupidity and the Prince's rather vague instructions had been ‘tell them what they need to know’.
So I would. And if Hanse didn’t like it?
Well, Hanse Davion of all people should know better than to give me open-ended orders like that!
Unsurprisingly, none of the cadets stood to approach me, so it seemed none of them were keen on giving their spurs back.
Amusingly I thought I even saw a couple of cadets sort of clutch them closer at my ultimatum.
“So then” I continued with a tilt of my head. ”What makes Mechwarriors unique in the annals of ground warfare? I’ll give it to you in one word. Trust.”
Okay, now I think I could see a couple of the officers in the audience nodding. Good sign!
“Cadets, understand clearly that it is the sheer trust that is extended to us that sets us apart from the rest of our peers in the Armed Forces. We are given command of the most uniquely flexible and lethal killing machine ever devised, in the history of war - and we are given the authority to use it on and in trust. Because once we’re sealed up, alone inside that cockpit … it’s all on us” I said, punctuating those three words with raps of my knuckles on the lectern that thudded like a drum around the room. “There are no checks on our actions, bar those we bring with us once the neurohelmet is on. These spurs you have been given are not simply decorations out of some quaint nod to the ancient cavalry; they are the symbol of your promise to the people of the Federation. Of a pact that you have now made. Not simply that you will use this weapon in their defense, but that you will think and you will adapt and you will lead while doing so because there is no-one else in that cockpit to hold your hand and do it for you.”
It was of course to a large degree pure ego, but it was also more true than some people liked to admit. The very existence of Pirates in Battlemechs preying on the fringes of civilization was proof of that. A single Battlemech in even half decent repair could give a single person otherwise unprecedented ability to cause misery, death and destruction in the 31st century on a lot of planets.
Or conversely, a single BattleMech could give a single person the chance to make a bigger difference than at any time before in military history. And when they did...
“All of this, of course, brings me to the reason I am here today with you” I continued after an appropriate pause, getting my tone back to business-like. “Among you there are six cadets who have vindicated that trust in a quite spectacular fashion. Six cadets, who showed resourcefulness, devotion, leadership, and sheer toughness more in line with what might be expected from veterans in the Davion Guards. Cadets whose actions directly helped save the First Prince himself and allowed us to carry the day for the Federated Suns. Cadets who it was my privilege and honor to lead back into the fight and they are cadets Stengovich, Taylor, Bixby, Kudo, Hall and Raji. Cadets; front and centre please” I ordered and with that the cadets in question stood and made their way, as quickly as they could, an immediate spontaneous round of applause and cheers from their peers chasing them up onto the stage. A curt gesture from the Master Sergeant had them forming a line facing my podium and I studied them all carefully.
They seemed to be trying to be as calm and serious as a cadet should be in such a situation with this many officers in close proximity ... but were betraying their simultaneous excitement and terror in a dozen different ways as they looked back at me. And I had to ruthlessly shove aside my first impulse of again decrying them as kids, given how young they looked.
Instead as the crowd quietened, I turned to face them, hefting the official bits of paper and unfolding them, calling Attention to Orders and - what the...
I had not anticipated the officers on the stage to my left snapping to attention like that … or the entire crowd of cadets and staff in the audience getting to their feet quick-smart too. Along with the six cadets of course.
Huh. Looks like I really needed to review my AFFS regulations, That … wasn’t actually what I thought that meant …
But for now, I just rolled with it.
Hell, it certainly looked more impressive anyway.
-
"Pursuant to AFFS Field Directive Three Zero Two Nine dash Six Six One Two dash Echo Four" I read, holding the very high quality paper up clearly. "It is the decision of The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns that Cadets Michelle Stengovich, Justin Taylor, James Bixby, Davud Kudo, Alexia Hall and Miguel Raji are to be granted the active status of fully qualified Mechwarriors of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns."
It sounded like - and was - standard AFFS text really ...
Except for the words 'The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns'.
There was exactly one person who went by the title of 'The Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns' as opposed perhaps to being a Marshal of the AFFS. And from the way all six Cadets seemed to somehow grow a few centimeters in height in realtime, each of them had realized it as well. And with the almost a whisper of hushed awe through the room as much felt as heard ... well their comrades got it too.
"I have in my career with the AFFS been privileged to witness many examples of heroism in the field" I continued to read Hanse Davions letter - thankfully printed and not handwritten, the man had frigen horrific handwriting! "However, I must note I have never witnessed a half dozen cadets charging out of a treeline, with all guns blazing, to throw themselves without hesitation or equivocation at the most elite of the DCMS. Yet as impressive as such courage was to watch, I must state for the record that I found significantly greater reason to justify awarding the coveted title of Mechwarrior upon you all in the actions you as a group took when confronted with Lieutenant John Smith earlier in the evening."
I had to pause here to fight the twitch trying to fight its way onto my face at the next lines, but managed to keep it to a dry sort of smirk.
"No Cadet Stengovich" I continued, glancing at her briefly, "I do not mean your attempt to shoot him when you saw he was heading right at you - although I confess that there has been many a day those of us in High Command have been tempted to do exactly that" I read and paused to allow the entire room to loudly snicker and laugh (at me I hoped, giving the poor cadet a wry shrug that I hoped told her I wasn't holding any kind of grudge over that whole thing) before moving on.
"Specifically, I refer to the moment each of you chose to disregard your last orders and instead followed Lieutenant Smith back into the fire. The truth is that neither I nor the AFFS want Casper Drones. We want soldiers - soldiers who think. To be a Mechwarrior on the battlefield makes you the ultimate arbiter of your own choices - and far too many of our peers through history have failed to stand up and be counted when it counted. That all six of you could do so before even graduating? That gives me the greatest of hopes of the kind of character both you and the rest of your years classmates will be bringing to the AFFS in the years ahead.
Accordingly, I salute all six of you, Mechwarriors all and will be watching your careers with great interest going forward. For now, I leave it to Lieutenant Smith to present the symbols of your status to you along with some small tokens of my personal thanks for your actions in the battle. Signed" I finished, glancing up and folding the paper closed, "Hanse Davion. Duke of New Avalon, Marshal of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, First Prince of the Federated Suns".
I flat out refused to use his 'First Lord of the Star League' title - and given that he had not put it on said paper, I think he knew that too. But even without it, the cadets were looking like each of them had just reached down and picked up Mjolnir off the ground or something, the looks on their faces...
I stepped up first to Cadet Stengovich as I told the room to stand easy, the cadet snapping a perfect salute that she held until I returned it. I turned and found Sergeant Kentrick already at my side like the hyper-competent NCO I knew he was, with the box open to show its contents and so I - very carefully- picked out her spurs. No different from the same spurs the other cadets had been awarded ... except for the fact that they were hers.
"Cadet Stengovich" I greeted her with a slight nod. "By the order of the First Prince, you are hereby authorized to assume you place on the roster of qualified and active duty MechWarriors of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns, effective immediately" I said, presenting her the spurs. She reached out to take the spurs, her hands ever so slightly shaking as she grasped them.
She didn't even try to reach up and wipe away the couple of tears rolling down her face as she stared at the spurs, then closed her hands around them like I had just given her the Davion Crown Jewels.
"Tha...thank you Sir" she replied in a voice thick with emotion.
"Congratulations" I smiled before letting my tone shift slightly as I held out a hand (without breaking eye contact) to my left, the highly competent NCO standing there immediately placing the appropriate envelope into it said hand. "Now, I know your Battlemech was crippled in the fighting" I observed and like I had just flung a bucket of ice water at her face, her expression shifted into something far more serious.
"Yes Sir" she agreed, clearly bracing herself, but determined to face what she thought would be the dreaded D-Word head on. And I admired her poise. This would be fun.
"Accordingly, Prince Davion has authorized a full factory refit and repair of your Blackjack -at his expense- to a new advanced-technology upgraded variant" I said, handing over the sealed envelope and her jaw finally dropped in shock, the young woman staring at me numbly for a few seconds before something in her head rebooted and she managed to take the envelope from me. "It'll probably be at least four to six months before the work is done mind you but the simulation module should be uploaded to your profile within a day or two so you can at least take a virtual tour of your new 'Mech."
The look of stunned surprise mixing with incredibly powerful relief was confronting. I suspected that since that battle she had been wondering if she was going to be that person on the family tree who lost the Family Mech due to her decision to follow me instead of RTBing like she had been told.
Turned out, rewarding leal service was very much a thing in a neo-feudal society - and when you managed to help save the First Prince? Well...
Luckily the Marshal a few steps away covered for Stengovich's near catatonic state by starting to applaud and the entire room joined in at once, significant cheering and whooping coming from the cadets and buying her enough time to try and get some of her composure back.
"Sir ... I ... " she paused and showed considerable poise to take a breath and take her time before continuing. "Sir, all I can say is that I can only hope to prove worthy of the First Prince's incredible generosity" she said, unable to hide the tremor of raw emotion in her voice.
"You already have, Mechwarrior" I assured her with a smile - dammit, that just shut her down again - so I decided that was more than enough and took a step back, ordering her to stand at ease (and I couldn't notice the difference in her stance) as I stepped up to the next cadet.
I mildly chided Cadet Justin Taylor over his jump jet skills - even though ramming his Javelin into the side of the building the way he did wasn't really his fault. But we -and the room- all got a good laugh out of it anyway and he was a good sport about it. And his jaw dropped when I told him he was, compliments of the Archon Katrina Steiner, getting a mech without Jump Jets - or ammo that might explode like had happened to him- in a brand new Wolfhound. A revelation that got quite an impressed 'ohhhh!' mixed with approving whistles from the audience.
The Wolfhounds had generated an even better reputation in this timeline if that was at all possible, mostly thanks to Katrina shoving twenty eight of the thirty extended-range large lasers that had been 'loose' in the Helm cache into her first production run, along with every Freezer she had been able to scrape up. The DCMS had apparently named these advanced-technology units (mostly concentrated in the 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards) 'Oni' after ancient Japanese Demons, their reputation blown all out of proportion as they confronted the DCMS light Mechs and tore them to pieces. Andrew Redburn had personally trained these lightning companies, attached to the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Royal Guards and they were proving themselves more than worthy of the faith placed in them and doing a great deal to obliterate the meme that Lyrans and Light Mechs simply didn't mix.
And in fact starting a whole new meme about 'Oh shit, the Lyrans learned to use Light Mechs, it's the 3rd sign of the Apocalypse!' according to BB.
Of course Katrina hadn't actually sent Taylor a Mech; his was one of the very first shipment of twelve Wolfhounds the AFFS had ordered from TharHes that had finally arrived on New Avalon. Nominally slated for delivery to the Swift Foxes (and some Light Guards pilot was probably going to be crying himself to sleep when only 11 arrived) but the Archon had been more than happy to send a message 'gifting' the Battlemech, with her compliments, 'to the man who had helped keep her son-in-law alive'. Surely something that would be framed and kept for centuries by his family.
Cadet Kudo was next in line and I was very happy to see him. He had managed to wrestle Akira Brahe to the ground and held him there with his Shadow Hawk for a short time. Said short time turned out to be long enough for one of the reinforcement Victors from Team Banzai to arrive and put a foot on the Orions toso just as he managed to throw Kudos mech off, the Merc placing the gaping maw of the Pontiac 100 autocannon against the Samurais cockpit in an unspoken message that either he powered down now, or, came down with a terminal case of heavy metal poisoning.
I was actually mildly surprised Akira had chosen to surrender - but I didn't think he'd be joining the Kell Hounds in this reality.
Honestly I didn't know what Hanse planned to do with the Kuritan POWs.
In any event, as Davud Kudo hadn't lost his Battlemech he didn't get a new one ... but he did get a full blown upgrade package to a new variant that looked, on paper at least, to be a considerable improvement over the stock model Shadow Hawk. Even that might have seemed a bit of a weak reward for someone who had probably saved Hanse Davions life by preventing Akira from charging over and avenging his father, but that was the second surprise when I casually noted that also in the envelope were also the papers confirming the Prince had brought out the considerable loans his family were working their buts off to repay - and promptly waived them.
Meaning the Mech was now truly his.
From what BB had told me, the man's family had paid a pretty penny for the Shadow Hawk, his family being a Mechwarrior House that had truly seen better days. Through sheer bad luck on the battlefield, they had lost several family members and their Mechs from the previous generation, leaving them putting most of their holdings on the line as collateral for the loans to buy a Battlemech for Davud, rather than risk having their titles stripped from them by not being able to provide a Mech to their Baron and, by extension, the AFFS as was required by their ancient pacts.
The silent tears the man let come down his face without the slightest shame openly suggested to me that House Kudo of Cerulean would be fanatic in its loyalty to House Davion for a very long time.
Cadet Bixby was next - and while he had lost his Firestarter in the battle, he didn't seem terribly put out about it given that in return I informed him he was being granted a salvaged Combine Hunchback Four Pappa (which I thought was highly appropriate!); the most infamous of all 'Swaback' Battlemechs.
And a personal favorite of mine to boot.
What he didn't know (but his papers would tell him) was that this one was going to be further modified and rebuilt with both extra weapons and enough Freezers to use them to the point that it looked like NAIS had tried to rip off a Clan Nova.
Seriously, they had even added Jump Jets to the design.
I mean, it might not have the raw damage output of the Clan Mech, but it was actually more useful insomuch that pushing the Alpha Strike button wouldn't immediately risk the Battlemech lighting its artificial muscles on fire or knocking the pilot unconscious through heat stroke. And the almost gleeful look on the man's face (every Firestarter pilot was a pyromaniac at heart after all) suggested that he was gleefully pleased with the idea of the heat he could lay downrange with the thing.
Next came Cadet Raji who was also getting a new Battlemech from the DCMS Salvage - which was a bit of an irony given that his previous Mech was also DCMS Salvage his grandfather had managed to -somehow- claim as a PBI. He was being mated with an ex-DCMS Phoenix Hawk. A much slower Mech than his Jenner, but also much more heavily armed and armored. Like everyone else he was getting an upgrade and besides the ubiquitous Freezers, his large laser was being replaced with an extended-range PPC like the ones in my mech.
Actually, to be very specific, exactly like the ones in my Mech - because it was the PPC from my right arm that hadn't been torn to pieces in my Battlemechs detonation. One of the only two guns to have landed a hit on Yoringa Kurita himself that day in fact!
The shocked cadet had actually tried to refuse the 'gift', clearly thinking it was far too much for him to take the Lostech weapon from me (yeah like I could frigen put it in my back pocket - what the hell did I need an ERPPC for?!) until I pointedly told him that the correct words were 'Thank you Sir' and he instantly got the message. Promising with almost disturbing intensity to use it well, in my name.
Smiling as best as I could to not feel awkward at the mans almost fanatic enthusiasm, I moved onto the final cadet; Alexia Hall, whose Valkyrie had been flayed open like a tin can after an insane insane DCMS Archer pilot had partially pulled off a DFA by dropping off a building right on top of her and detonating his magazines. It would have been child's play for Hanse to get her a Valkyrie from the factory on New Avalon of course, but instead he had ordered Achernar BattleMechs to turn over one of the three DV-6Md Dervish Battlemechs from Helm that had been in their test labs. The Mech had been secretly used as a proof of concept for refitting the new production Freezers the Lyrans were making for the Federated Suns into an XL engine and while there had been some trouble, they had figured it out eventually and NAIS had asked for the machine back.
And now it belonged to Alexia.
I hoped she would use it well. It was certainly quite a step up from her Valkyrie, with a third again the missile throw weight and several times the close in firepower to boot!
With that all finished I told the room to take a seat and Marshal DeBurton stepped forward to take her pictures with me and each cadet, only for a rather shy Cadet Stengovich to ask if she could have her 'Mechwarrior' picture be all of us - and the Marshal - together. A suggestion immediately seconded by the other cadets who looked very excited at the idea.
Slightly nonplused, I followed standard procedures I had been taught and immediately referred all decision making to the Flag Officer - who it turned out had no problem with that idea at all. So it was that the Marshal and I stood in the centre, with three cadets flanking us to each side holding their spurs with great pride as the picture was taken before we all shook hands.
Then should have come ushering them off stage, except-
"Sir - permission to ask a question?" Cadet Stengovich finally blurted out at me after a round of the Cadets all making 'You ask' - 'No, you ask!' eyes at each other.
I raised an eyebrow, mildly amused - and impressed - by their impudence.
"You certainly may ask me, Cadet. I can't guarantee I can or will answer though" I hedged and she nodded, her eyes intent.
"Sir - speaking for all of us" she gushed and with a glance back every other cadet, all of whom nodded enthusiastically, "we ... would like to request to serve under your command once we've graduated. Sir!"
I blinked. And blinked again at the sheer eagerness in their eyes. Um....
"Uh - I am honored Cadets, but I don't actually have a combat billet at this time. For that matter" I laughed suddenly as the thought occurred, "I don't even have a Battlemech anymore."
"But ... surely Prince Davion will replace your-" Cadet Bixby started to protest in a tone of mild outrage, only for a loud clearing of a throat from the Marshal next to me to shut the man up like she had fired a warning shot in the air.
Bixby's face flushed red, clearly understanding he had just walked right up to a line he did not want to cross.
One did not question the First Prince as a Cadet at formal ceremonies like this.
"Apologies sir, I was out of line" he said and I took pity on him as I smiled slightly.
"Cadet" I explained, "if I truly need a Battlemech to do my job, I'm sure Prince Davion will organize one for me. But if I do not need a Battlemech, I also see no point in keeping one out of the hands of a soldier on the front lines simply so I can brag about having one" I flatly declared, feeling a sudden surge of disbelief and confusion throughout the room at my completely casual indifference to the HORRORS OF DISPOSSESSION and seeing it in the uncomprehending eyes of the cadets.
So I sighed and decided to confront it head on.
"And to all of you who both earned their spurs this day or will do so shortly" I said, raising my gaze to sweep the cadets and stare down any looking at me in disbelief and making them flinch away. "If you have learned nothing else from me today, then I would ask you to learn this. A Battlemech, be it owned by your family or simply assigned to you by the AFFS, is an incredible thing for any Mechwarrior to be responsible for. But if you are not enough without one ... I can promise you that you will never, ever be enough with one."
I think it missed something coming from me and not John Candy. But the point was made.
I turned back back to the six cadets and I offered them each a final firm nod. "Pappa Company, it was an honor and a privilege to lead you into battle. Very, very nice work Mechwarriors" I smiled at them - and without so much as a sideways glance, all six of them snapped to attention and in perfect unison, saluted me.
I returned the salute before now turning to face the Marshal and saluting her.
She returned my salute crisply - and gave me the smallest of nods and smiles suggesting that she wasn't going to give me a failing grade to Hanse (and coming from the head Principal of the entire AFFS, that was a big deal!) and with that, I spun on a heel and marched offstage. Literally - and I hoped figuratively as well - out of the spotlight again.
Exiting the amphitheater and carefully avoiding the luncheon being set up in the hall outside, I knew I was supposed to head back upstairs to wait for the hospital people to formally discharge me. At which point, some DMI people would be around to pick me up and take me to the Fox's Den where apparently more meetings awaited me.
Many many more meetings.
All to be frank ... I was over this shit. And despite having a week of sleep behind me, I needed a frigen break.
So instead, I headed into a room where I had stashed my kitbag and rapidly changed out of my dress uniform and into some civilian clothes I had swiped from another soldier's room upstairs. They fit pretty well actually (I'd organize to have them replaced later) and then taking only my various IDs with me, I strolled out of the building into the morning sun. An hour later I was getting off the rather full shuttle bus service running between NAIS and the city with the underground train lines still shut down.
Smiling as I felt more free then I had in a while, I vanished into the surprisingly bustling urban jungle, entirely determined to find the nearest dive bar to vanish into for a while.
***
And that's it for my latest monument to mission creep.
Next chapter will start having fast forwarded through to near the end of the 4th Succession War. And we'll see the aftermath of Smith acting like a three year old (which he will point out he technically IS) with a degree of 'after the fact' looking back.
-
And for reference; these are the upgraded Battlemechs talked about that the cadets are getting.
Shadow Hawk SHD-X-FC
Mass: 55 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/C-E-D-A
Production Year: 3029
Cost: 4,867,207 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,437
Chassis: Lang T1
Power Plant: Core Tek 275
Walking Speed: 54.0 km/h
Maximum Speed: 86.4 km/h
Jump Jets: Pitban LFT-50
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armor: Kallon-16 Standard
Armament:
1 Nightwind XI Large Laser
3 Martell 6-CM Medium Lasers
2 Holly LRM-5s
1 Holly SRM-4
Manufacturer: Refit - NAIS
Primary Factory: Talon Advanced Projects Site # 5
Communications System: O/P 300 COMSET
Targeting and Tracking System: O/P 2000A
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 91 points 5.50
Engine: Fusion Engine 275 15.50
Walking MP: 5
Running MP: 8
Jumping MP: 4 Standard
Jump Jet Locations: 2 CT, 1 LL, 1 RL 2.00
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 10(20) 0.00
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 160 10.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 18 23
Center Torso (rear) 10
L/R Torso 13 18
L/R Torso (rear) 8
L/R Arm 9 14
L/R Leg 13 19
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
3 Medium Lasers RA 9 3 3.00
2 LRM-5s RT 4 2 4.00
Large Laser LT 8 2 5.00
SRM-4 HD 3 1 2.00
@LRM-5 (24) RT - 1 1.00
@SRM-4 (25) RT - 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 33
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 5 Points: 14
5/3j 3 3 1 0 2 1 Structure: 5
Special Abilities: SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA, IF 1
A test-type refit of the venerable medium-weight workhorse, the Shadow Hawk has been redesigned to provide superior firepower while holding the range brackets of the original design, without sacrificing mobility or protection.
The biggest structural modification was the removal of the 'Hawks signature Armstrong J11 Autocannon and replacement with a Nightwind XI Large Laser. The extremely reliable and durable weapon has found much favor in test pilots both due to its damage output and lack of ammunition concerns. Although this weapon has a clearly shorter range than the autocannon, this has been mostly offset with the installation of a second 5-tube Holly LRM rack that allows the unit to give similar firepower at long range (albeit with less endurance as no additional ammunition storage has been allocated).
It is however at close range where this refit shines, a long held weakness of the Battlemech. Two additional medium laser have been installed providing a considerable boost in firepower and the Holly SRM-2 launcher has been upgraded to a 4 tube variant - although again no consideration has been made for additional ammunition. Between all four lasers and the SRM tubes, the FC-X variant can deliver an utterly withering barrage with only minor heat buildup, even at maximum mobility despite dropping two heat sinks, thanks to the refitting of the entire cooling system with Star League era Double Heat Sinks.
The installation of an additional jump jet on its center torso to increase its jumping distance and help bring its varied weapons into play was an interesting design decision, but reactions have been mostly positive by pilots who feel it provides just a little bit more mobility to bring their shorter-ranged weapons into play. The last of the weight savings were placed into additional rear-aspect armor protection, always a sore point in the eyes of many a Shadow Hawk pilot. Rumors of a prototype that used some kind of Star League era 'super metal' armor instead of the standard weave are, at this time, nothing but that.
Phoenix Hawk PXH-FC-X
Mass: 45 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/E-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 4,428,590 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,277
Chassis: Orguss Stinger Standard
Power Plant: GM 270 270 Fusion Engine
Walking Speed: 64.8 km/h
Maximum Speed: 97.2 km/h
Jump Jets: Pitban 9000
Jump Capacity: 180 meters
Armor: Durallex Light Standard Armor
Armament:
1 SLDF-Unknown ER PPC
2 Harmon V Medium Lasers
Manufacturer: NAIS
Primary Factory: Achernar New Avalon
Communications System: Tek BattleCom
Targeting and Tracking System: Tek Tru-Trak
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 75 points 4.50
Engine: Fusion Engine 270 14.50
Walking MP: 6
Running MP: 9
Jumping MP: 6 Standard
Jump Jet Locations: 3 LT, 3 RT 3.00
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 10(20) 0.00
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 126 8.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 14 15
Center Torso (rear) 8
L/R Torso 11 15
L/R Torso (rear) 7
L/R Arm 7 12
L/R Leg 11 13
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Medium Laser RA 3 1 1.00
ER PPC RA 15 3 7.00
Medium Laser LA 3 1 1.00
Free Critical Slots: 36
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 4 Points: 13
6j 2 2 1 0 2 0 Structure: 4
Special Abilities: ENE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
The Phoenix Hawk FC-X(I) is one of four different refits being proposed for the Phoenix Hawk, of which over six hundred are currently listed as in active service in the AFFS and LCAF, with new construction still ongoing at Coventry Mech Works and Achernar BattleMechs.
The FC-X(I) -while the first to see the light of day- is unlikely to be the chosen refit as its greatest attribute is also clearly its greatest drawback; that of using an Extended-Range Particle Projectile Cannon taken from an SLDF Machine to replace its original Large Laser.
Given that -at present- the Federated Commonwealth powers are unable to produce these weapons, this unit is best thought of as a 'proof of concept' of what might be - and as such, it is certinally a compelling design.
Long considered a 'flock leader' on groups of light and 'bug' Mechs, the ERPPC on this platform provides an unquestionable ability to provide very long range fire support indefinitely to its charges in diverse situations from covering an attack to picking off enemy static defenses from outside their range in deep raids or even suppressing pursuit while attempting to disengage. And while the design lost its two machine-guns to free up the tonnage, the lack of any ammunition concerns arguably only enhances its reputation as a deep strike machine. The design also retains its trademark mobility and agility and while the upgrade to Double Heat Sinks does not completely remove heat concerns, it certinally allows the design to 'run-and-gun' all day with its ERPPC if necessary.
This design is expected to be a one-off until such time as ERPPC production is rectified.
Hunchback HBK-FC-X
Mass: 50 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Tournament Legal
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/E-F-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 3,932,500 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,415
Chassis: Komiyaba Type VIII Standard
Power Plant: Nissan 200 Fusion Engine
Walking Speed: 43.2 km/h
Maximum Speed: 64.8 km/h
Jump Jets: McCloud Specials
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armor: Starshield Standard Armor
Armament:
10 Martell Medium Lasers
1 SLDF Unknown Medium Pulse Laser
Manufacturer: NAIS
Primary Factory: Talon Advanced Projects Site # 2
Communications System: Omicron 4002 Networking Channel
Targeting and Tracking System: TRSS Eagle Eye
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 83 points 5.00
Engine: Fusion Engine 200 8.50
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 4 Standard
Jump Jet Locations: 2 LL, 2 RL 2.00
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 17(34) 7.00
Heat Sink Locations: 3 LT, 2 RT, 2 LA, 2 RA
Gyro: Standard 2.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 168 10.50
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 16 24
Center Torso (rear) 7
L/R Torso 12 18
L/R Torso (rear) 6
L/R Arm 8 16
L/R Leg 12 24
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 Medium Lasers RA 6 2 2.00
2 Medium Lasers LA 6 2 2.00
3 Medium Lasers RT 9 3 3.00
3 Medium Lasers LT 9 3 3.00
(R) Medium Pulse Laser CT 4 1 2.00
Free Critical Slots: 5
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 6 Points: 14
4j 5 5 0 0 2 0 Structure: 4
Special Abilities: ENE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
Born from a project code-named 'Blackhawk' by Davion High Command (some say by Prince Davion himself) the FC-X is arguably the ultimate 'Swayback' variant of the legendary Hunchback. The FC-X at its heart is an evolution of the highly regarded 4P variant that dropped the massive Tomodzuru Type 20 Autocannon for a sextet of Medium lasers and additional ten heat sinks, creating a design that could throw more firepower downrange than the classic model without ammunition concerns, albeit at a greater risk of overheating.
The FC-X takes this concept and adding the missing link of Star League era Heat Sinks, brings it to a whole new terrifying level.
Ten Martel Medium lasers mounted two in each arm and three in each side torso, provide an utterly devastating barrage of firepower that can make even an assault Mech twice this machines weight think very, very carefully about its next move. A single SLDF Medium Pulse laser (presumably from the Helm stores of the Federated Commonwealth) has been mounted to cover the rear arc in the prototype providing a very nasty surprise to anyone trying to sneak up behind the machine. The units mobility has been also dramatically enhanced with the provision of four McCloud Special Jump jets of the same type as used in the Enforcer series of Battlemechs, something long considered a 'missing feature' on a close range urban fighter like the 'Hunchie' and with the 17 Freezers replacing the 23 single heat sinks, this design can run, jump and Alpha strike all its forward weapons almost with impunity. A great many minds are watching this machine closelsy to see how well the theory stacks up in the field.
Blackjack Bj-1DD
Mass: 45 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Advanced Rules
Era: Age of War/Star League
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/C-E-D-A
Production Year: 2750
Cost: 3,349,500 C-Bills
Battle Value: 1,269
Chassis: GM BJ-DD Standard
Power Plant: GM 180 Fusion Engine
Walking Speed: 43.2 km/h
Maximum Speed: 64.8 km/h
Jump Jets: Whitworth Jetlift
Jump Capacity: 120 meters
Armor: Durallex Medium Standard Armor
Armament:
2 Magna Mk III Large Lasers
4 Magna Mk II Medium Lasers
Manufacturer: General Motors
Primary Factory: New Valencia
Communications System: Dalban Micronics
Targeting and Tracking System: Dalban AQ
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 75 points 4.50
Engine: Fusion Engine 180 7.00
Walking MP: 4
Running MP: 6
Jumping MP: 4 Standard
Jump Jet Locations: 2 LL, 2 RL 2.00
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 13(26) 3.00
Heat Sink Locations: 2 LT, 2 RT, 1 LA, 1 RA
Gyro: Standard 2.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA R: SH+UA+LA
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 152 9.50
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 14 20
Center Torso (rear) 7
L/R Torso 11 15
L/R Torso (rear) 7
L/R Arm 7 14
L/R Leg 11 22
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Large Laser RA 8 2 5.00
Medium Laser RA 3 1 1.00
Large Laser LA 8 2 5.00
Medium Laser LA 3 1 1.00
2 Medium Lasers CT 6 2 2.00
Free Critical Slots: 19
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 5 Points: 13
4j 4 4 0 0 2 0 Structure: 4
Special Abilities: ENE, SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA
The Blackjack for much of its life was a Battlemech with a quite unfair reputation as a failure of a Battlemech. Originally designed as an infantry and urban suppression mech in the twilight of the Star Leauge, GM attempted to market it to the SLDF as the periphery troubles started to rise and were blindsided by a seemingly overwhelming wave of negative press, with an astonishing number of false claims raised against it. So much so the SLDF dropped the design like a live grenade. Desperate to recoup their losses, the production runs were instead mostly sold at a steep discount to the AFFS and CCAF, who used it to bulk out their rear area milita units and bring 'better' Battlemechs forward to the front line as the Star League fell and after the primary production line on Kathil was destroyed in the fires of the 1st Succession War, that seemed to be that.
In the twilight of the 3rd Succession War however, as the scarcity of Battlemechs resulted in these Mechs being put into more and more front line service. Despite clear solid performance, it remained the unloved child of the AFFS - and even a punishment for CCAF pilots - right up until 3022 when Tai-i Mercer Ravannion attempted his infamous 'hoard' tactic of Bug Mechs against Xhosa VII. Against the enemy regiment, the company of Blackjacks backed up by a single company of their own Locusts inflicted horrific damage against the enemy force thanks to superior tactics on the part of NAIS cadet Michael Ubodo. The crushing defeat of the enemy brought the Blackjack to the full attention of no less a person than Hanse Davion himself, who was genuinely impressed by its performance and ordered immediate and unbiased combat trials that showed the Mech was in fact entirely reliable and solid. So much so that he tasked NAIS with looking to use the plentiful examples of the Mech in the AFFS as the basis for refits, several examples taking to field tests between 3022 and 3025. Yet with the increasing production of Lostech, it is perhaps not surprising that the Blackjack's R&D teams already hard at work were quick off the mark with a new variant.
The BJ-1DD retains the four medium lasers of the original design and pairs them with the two large lasers of the 3022 prototype 'DB' varient, replacing the two light AC/2s. With a Double Heat Sink equipped coolant loop, the end result is a brutal trooper battlemech carrying better than 99% of possible armor coverage armed exclusively with energy weapons, this platform is able to shrug off a truely impressive amount of firepower for a 45 ton Battlemech while dishing it right back out. The lack of the impressive weapons range of the original design is the only truly negative aspect of the platform, although rumors abound now that the same enhanced large lasers seen in the Lyran Commonwealths impressive Wolfhound Battlemechs are slated to replace the Magna III lasers in the DD. If so, then truly, the Blackjack will have come into its own and firmly buried its reputation in the past. Indeed, it could even be said that the stock of the Blackjack is rising with that of Hanse Davion who was willing to give it a chance. Cadet Michelle Stengovich helped to save his life with her BJ-1 during the climax of the Battle of New Avalon and in thanks, the First Prince ordered her heavily damaged Mech to be rebuild to the new DD standard, never one to miss an opportunity to push his agenda. So successful has this profile boost been that in an ironic twist of fate, frontline AFFS units are now all but demanding militia units give up their Blackjacks to them for upgrade to the new BJ-1DD standard...
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excellent update, keep up the good work.
You know, John can be a very rich man license out the UI for his apple devices. Meaning letting some modern battletech programmers adopted the end user interface which is better than anything in the setting to the software in use in Battletech devices.
imagine..."Hey Siri...charge my medium lasers..." lol...
edit
i am sure you have it planned out well into the future, but it would be interesting, given that John is not an uber elite mechwarrior or spy, but rather seems to have advantages due to his unique perspective and knowledge, that his role in the Brigade is basically to lead an odd squad so to speak. A lance or two of light to medium mechs, some teams of intelligence and covery ops guys, some techs and attached scientists and engineers and have as his purview exploring for lost tech, making precise strikes to alter history like a scalpel or similar actions.
He's a lieutenant so he has to command something now and I would guess Hanse wants him to get actual experience, but not necessarily be exposed and killed on combat mission after combat mission.
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Apple is still a live company in CBT
as for Smith, he is primarily a staff weinie, have a mech stored below with the other guards mechs as part of that unlisted 4th battalion of other staff folks who work in the mountain but arent active fighters
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Fantastic work as usual! Thanks for sharing!
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Awesome ... just amazing
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:thumbsup:
I loved his cadets want to work for him now..
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The surviors from John's class and the cadets might be placed with an experinced commander with John in second command to be groomed to take over in a few years but I doubt he will be in command of anything for a good several years.
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He's a lieutenant. Part of his responsibility as a new lieutenant is going to be learning how to command enlisted personnel from a more senior officer.
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He's a lieutenant. Part of his responsibility as a new lieutenant is going to be learning how to command enlisted personnel from a more senior officer.
Actually No.
A new Lieutenant isto be put in charge of a Lance or Platoon, under the instruction of a Senior, experienced Sargent. If a Junior Officer can not lean on his sargents for instruction and advice, They do not deserve to be a Officer. And Sergeants who can not stand up to a Junior Officer on a power trip, do not deserve their stripes.
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You are correct in how an aspect of how you state things. Senior enlisted personnel, particularly the top ranking sergants are also involved. However rank only works one way. A fresh lieutenant can have a full conversation with his higher ranking officer. He cannot discuss certain things with his squad/platoon sergeant.
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You are correct in how an aspect of how you state things. Senior enlisted personnel, particularly the top ranking sergants are also involved. However rank only works one way. A fresh lieutenant can have a full conversation with his higher ranking officer. He cannot discuss certain things with his squad/platoon sergeant.
I might have said that better.
An Officer, listens to what his scouts say, he listens to what his sargents say. Then he decides on a course of action and gives the orders.
A Sargent, sends the scouts to gather info, spreads the team out , listens to the scouts, advises the Officer, sometimes strongly on possible courses of action. Then steps back and waits either to move forward to the next objective or picks up the pieces.
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I might have said that better.
An Officer, listens to what his scouts say, he listens to what his sargents say. Then he decides on a course of action and gives the orders.
A Sargent, sends the scouts to gather info, spreads the team out , listens to the scouts, advises the Officer, sometimes strongly on possible courses of action. Then steps back and waits either to move forward to the next objective or picks up the pieces.
Oh I understood and agreed with you totally.
My point was broader, and referred to lieutenant as seen from higher ranking officers.
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Oh I understood and agreed with you totally.
My point was broader, and referred to lieutenant as seen from higher ranking officers.
It varies a lot depending on the force, though.
In a modern, professional force, like the US army, yes, this is the case: The Sergeant is supposed to be the experienced soldier who can advised the new officer and handle the day-to-day operations while the LT makes plans and gives the SGT general direction. Most European armies follow this model, as do Japan, Canada, and a number of others.
In other forces, however, a sergeant is merely a politically-reliable enlisted man who has been rewarded for his loyalty, and is generally assumed to lack the kind of education and skills required to do more than bark orders. In such forces, officers typically come from the upper classes and enlisted from the lower, and the idea of a "gentleman" taking advice from a "peasant" is considered somewhere between demeaning and insane. This tends to happen in nations where class distinctions are firmer than most first- and second-world nations -- Latin America, Africa, the Middle East, China, Soviet Russia, all tend towards this model.
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you know another thing John could push is the expansion of the use of the fuel cell engine instead of ICE. They are for all real reasons better even with the stupid range rule that shouldn't actually be a thing and reversed. that frees up space and weight for more armor and weapons. Plus if he remebers that they are a thing chem lasers are easy to create and remove the need for heat sinks and power amplifiers for even more armor and weapons/ammo.
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So let me get this clear, the Six got papers and spurs confirming them as mechwarriors same as the rest of the graduating class, right?
Only difference was that theirs came with special recognition(and gifts) from Hanse?
Or is there something else?
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Being 'Mentioned in Dispatches' used to be a pretty nice award back in the day, and they got mentioned BY the First Prince, rather than To him...
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went back and reread this from the beginning,
I forgot that Smith is apparently an aussie, he generally seems
american, but without slang or regional slang its a little harder
to pin him down
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So let me get this clear, the Six got papers and spurs confirming them as mechwarriors same as the rest of the graduating class, right?
Only difference was that theirs came with special recognition(and gifts) from Hanse?
Or is there something else?
Every Cadet gets an order signed by someone, usually the Commandant of the academy promoting them to active status.
Their's says "The Marshall of the Federated Suns" and is signed by Hanse Davion.
In addition they get other awards like guaranteed mechs (not all the graduating cadets will have mechs).
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They have the personal attention of the nigh-absolute ruler of billions of people, who took time out of his busy schedule (very busy given his home (world, town and castle) just got fought over, not to mention waging a major war) to not just put their names down for a 'you done good' but to have personal and well thought out arrangements made for their 'Mechs and send a personal message that makes it clear he read the detailed report of their actions and is pleased with them.
That is a very big statement of 'no matter how huge the AFFS and the wars you've signed up for are, you matter. You're important.'
And as John has continually grappled with, this is a feudal society. Acknowledgements like this are how loyalty is repaid, just as much as with material benefits.
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Hanse by his actions has “blessed” the Papa 6 members. He is anointed then for special attention.
Not in the “Lyran General” way but the Davion military will see them as being personally awarded for their valor, in saving the first prince. And first prince is reward loyalty by saying “Mentor these 6 and let nothing stand in the way of them excelling to their ability”.
Hanse in this story is not anointing them to be promoted ahead of his peers or ability.
Now international politics may be a totally different reality.
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damn this is fine stuff.
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in a few years Smith needs to meet a young Liz Ngo ;-)
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in a few years Smith needs to meet a young Liz Ngo ;-)
so he can shoot her in the face? (Drum riff)
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He may actually have read some of the Kowloon fiction... its old enough.
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wonder if he had been a member of the quest group. OR any of the others.
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in a few years Smith needs to meet a young Liz Ngo ;-)
He may actually have read some of the Kowloon fiction... its old enough.
Well...
Suffice to say worlds like Somerset are utterly canon backwaters. And no Singing Battleships were listed in the Star League Civil War
MC did "fanon check".
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He may actually have read some of the Kowloon fiction... its old enough.
Ahem, "IF" he did, and "IF" this is a 'verse that contains Elizabeth Ngo, Ngo Industries and so on? I've kind of been interested to see what someone else would do with their version of her, (Had one already, but without the built-in defects).
I imagine if BOTH of those were true, David would likely strive to avoid meeting her. Most of the Liz stories end up with a dark fate/early death for Liz, and if for some gawdawful reason she DID exist in this continuity's future, and Dave WAS aware of her story, he'd know what's coming for her more likely-than-not.
which could be kinda depressing. If the writer wants to use her, there's open permission to do so. I mean, come on, I've done a 'zombie liz' and am currently doing 'werewolf liz', (and two versions of 'mad scientist Liz) so it's not like I have real STRONG restrictions...lol.
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maybe set her up as Banzais new project or this timelines
inquisitor, so efficient taxation, plus cheap sloops, plus Smiths gamer ideas
and the new tech toys would be bonkers
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And FanFiction is ripping other peoples characters and basic setting cause you can't think up your own.
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And FanFiction is ripping other peoples characters and basic setting cause you can't think up your own.
Given the number of professional authors who take paying work in other people's settings, your statement is as inaccurate as it is insulting to the writers in this forum.
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Given the number of professional authors who take paying work in other people's settings, your statement is as inaccurate as it is insulting to the writers in this forum.
And FanFiction is ripping other peoples characters and basic setting cause you can't think up your own.
not everybody, Tegyrius. Since I'm basically 'stalled' on my own creative work in my own setting, but still have an itch to generate stories? Fanfiction is my recreational shortcut-I don't need to spend a lot of time logicking out every detail of a setting from scratch, I can just plug ideas in and ride them until they croak, knowing that what I'm doing has no actual impact on a product or setting I happen to love...but in the end, it's ripping other people's work, setting, and so on, as Georgiaboy stated.
I'm not actually ashamed of this, and when my own work goes up, I'll be pretty pleased if someone feels it's worth ripping from-as long as they don't try to make money from ripping.
There are authors who don't share this view, and I try to avoid playing in their yard.
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It's kind of hilarious to call it ripping off on the forum of the official site for the game, which has an actual section set aside for that particular purpose.
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Take it elsewhere, please.
While I prefer Spacebattles, I normally enjoy the moderated conversation.
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since the iPhone and iPad were never invented, or were lost very early, does that mean that Apple Computer Interstellar does not exist on New Avalon?
Also, beyond being Australian, what is Smith's background, former job, etc.
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since the iPhone and iPad were never invented, or were lost very early, does that mean that Apple Computer Interstellar does not exist on New Avalon?
https://www.sarna.net/wiki/Apple_Computers_Interstellar
Also, if Apple in BT ever finds out Hansen has some of their products from another universe and didn't give those items to Apple, you will hear some major screaming about it.
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yeah but then why was the iPad and iPhone never invented if Apple exists. I already know in game canon they do. Its do they exist in this alternate.
Also, was it ever mentioned if Hanse is doing something about his heart health.
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yeah but then why was the iPad and iPhone never invented if Apple exists. I already know in game canon they do. Its do they exist in this alternate.
Also, was it ever mentioned if Hanse is doing something about his heart health.
Any number of things could have happened to prevent the iPhone and iPad from happening. Maybe ARM CPUs were never invented in the Battletech universe. Maybe capacitive touchscreens, allowing for multi-touch interfaces, weren't invented until later. Maybe Apple didn't produce a BSD-based operating system. Maybe Jobs was never rehired. Maybe the Newton was more of a success, or Palm was able to follow up on their earlier successes better.
My own favorite is that maybe IBM failed to come up with copper interconnects in 1997, or at all, and they weren't perfected until far later, freezing computing at roughly 1997 tech for a long time. Copper interconnects were at one point thought to not be possible, and their absence would explain a lot about Battletech computing in general, including how the big breakthrough seemed to be optical neural computing.
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If the FedSuns are smart they will provide the Aurigan Reach with help in upgrading and developing their planets. The Aurigan Reach has alot of planets that have plenty of minerals and resources that would be very useful. Industrialmech production and civillian products plus with some battlemech and larger military production can be done as well. That gives the FedSuns a new ally and a counter to the remaining CC and the TC if they try anything. Plus extending relations to the MoC and the New Colony Region/Fronc Reach would allow a large area that is opened to the FedSuns markets.
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If the FedSuns are smart they will provide the Aurigan Reach with help in upgrading and developing their planets. The Aurigan Reach has alot of planets that have plenty of minerals and resources that would be very useful. Industrialmech production and civillian products plus with some battlemech and larger military production can be done as well. That gives the FedSuns a new ally and a counter to the remaining CC and the TC if they try anything. Plus extending relations to the MoC and the New Colony Region/Fronc Reach would allow a large area that is opened to the FedSuns markets.
Yeah, it's not like FedSun have over hundred of mostly undeveloped planets that would've liked that finances for THEIR development... OH, WAIT.
Everything that FedSun would do in Reach would be charity case while millions in Suns need said charity too.
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Yeah, it's not like FedSun have over hundred of mostly undeveloped planets that would've liked that finances for THEIR development... OH, WAIT.
Everything that FedSun would do in Reach would be charity case while millions in Suns need said charity too.
Which will be done anyways because those worlds are in the border regions that would be doing most of the trading with the periphery. It also isn't charity as that doesn't solve anything it would be investments backed by the Lyran Economy to increase the output of all the realms. More importantly, they will be opening up new markets which is why I said they should do it the MoC, Fronc Reach, and the Aurgian Reach are several hundred worlds that will be buying up products at a massive scale.
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Which will be done anyways because those worlds are in the border regions that would be doing most of the trading with the periphery. It also isn't charity as that doesn't solve anything it would be investments backed by the Lyran Economy to increase the output of all the realms. More importantly, they will be opening up new markets which is why I said they should do it the MoC, Fronc Reach, and the Aurgian Reach are several hundred worlds that will be buying up products at a massive scale.
Buy for what? Even with current technological renaissance bulk trasportation from Reach to FS and back is a silly dream. Canopian exports are medicine and prostitutes... sorry, pleasure circuses for reason - that's what is profitable to move to IS. Raw resources aren't profitable at such distance. And rare resources or luxury good neither require bulk trade nor for that matter propping up Reach, just normal trade would do.
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You build them up, essentially as protectorates, so you have buffers between you and any potential attack, potential allies that may make others unlikely to attack you and for the economic opportunities.
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Buy for what? Even with current technological renaissance bulk trasportation from Reach to FS and back is a silly dream. Canopian exports are medicine and prostitutes... sorry, pleasure circuses for reason - that's what is profitable to move to IS. Raw resources aren't profitable at such distance. And rare resources or luxury good neither require bulk trade nor for that matter propping up Reach, just normal trade would do.
They buy from us dude. It isn't that difficult of a concept. That is what trade is for and always has been along with investments also no raw materials are profitable because that is the majority of what is shipped around the IS and because they always need more. But they will be buying from the FedCom which is what opening open a market means. Plus that is where John is likely to go next with the express purpose of getting both the AC and MoC on the side of the FedCom.
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They buy from us dude. It isn't that difficult of a concept. That is what trade is for and always has been along with investments also no raw materials are profitable because that is the majority of what is shipped around the IS and because they always need more.
For majority of human history long-distance trade of anything but luxury items was NOT profitable. Modern bulk shipments and (to lesser extent) railroad traffic changed that, but Battletech do not have such conventional set-up. Trade exist, yes... even raw material trade... but for distances of several jumps. You need something like twenty additional jumps to deliver resources from Reach to FS industrial planets. It's not profitable in comparison with taking any of like half of FedSun planets with untapped mineral resources and starting mining there. With additional bonus of FedSun citizens being happy about it instead of grumbling of sending their money elsewhere.
But they will be buying from the FedCom which is what opening open a market means.
There is zero reason to open market when said market have nothing to pay with for incoming goods.
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For majority of human history long-distance trade of anything but luxury items was NOT profitable. Modern bulk shipments and (to lesser extent) railroad traffic changed that, but Battletech do not have such conventional set-up. Trade exist, yes... even raw material trade... but for distances of several jumps. You need something like twenty additional jumps to deliver resources from Reach to FS industrial planets. It's not profitable in comparison with taking any of like half of FedSun planets with untapped mineral resources and starting mining there. With additional bonus of FedSun citizens being happy about it instead of grumbling of sending their money elsewhere.
There is zero reason to open market when said market have nothing to pay with for incoming goods.
Thats because you traded in pure goods for the majority of human history. With the invention of currency that has no inherent value (meaning not precious metals which became the first semi currency because they were rare and portable) that you can stockpile for future exchange..long distance trade becomes financially viable. It also creates economic pressure on science and engineering to improve transport.
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Thats because you traded in pure goods for the majority of human history. With the invention of currency that has no inherent value (meaning not precious metals which became the first semi currency because they were rare and portable) that you can stockpile for future exchange..long distance trade becomes financially viable. It also creates economic pressure on science and engineering to improve transport.
...
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Currency that you can't spend worth nothing. Or from different point of view "to buy something you need to sell something" ("to sell something you need to buy something" is also valid as if you don't buy anything seller don't have money to buy). Reach have nothing to sell. Hence they don't have money that FedSun would accept.
Idea that people would just "somehow" get money to buy stuff "just because" is akin to idea that bread grow on shelves in supermarket.
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If the FedSuns are smart they will provide the Aurigan Reach with help in upgrading and developing their planets. The Aurigan Reach has alot of planets that have plenty of minerals and resources that would be very useful. Industrialmech production and civillian products plus with some battlemech and larger military production can be done as well. That gives the FedSuns a new ally and a counter to the remaining CC and the TC if they try anything. Plus extending relations to the MoC and the New Colony Region/Fronc Reach would allow a large area that is opened to the FedSuns markets.
By putting some of the first Terraforming/water purification upgrades into the FedCom Outback region (and the similar region in the Lyran side), Melissa and Hanse reinforce the centuries of loyalty those worlds have had to the FedSuns and Lyran Alliance. The FedCom might be willing to sell the Water Purification systems to TC, MoC, Aurigan Reach, and Outworlds Alliance, but the loyal FedCom worlds need to receive the Water Purification systems first. When extra systems are available to be sold, the outer systems should also get first dibs on them and at a discounted price.
The Feudal loyalty seen in BT has to go both ways. The Outback and its Lyran equivalent have been loyal for centuries, and it is right for them to expect a little bit of loyalty/consideration from their Successor Lord in return. If the FedCom leadership is perceived as helping out the other regions more than the Outback regions, those Outback regions will have a legitimate grievance.
The details will likely be along the lines of figuring out what each planet can build locally, so that as little as possible has to be shipped. Hanse and Melissa would also be investing in the special industries on those worlds, so if a planet can only make the metal shell then the refining/metallurgy parts of the planet's economy will be improved. If the planet has the ability to make the advanced cooling systems as well, those will be made on that planet and shipped to the other planets with lower tech, aso. The local lords will receive these systems as their families have been loyal for centuries, and are receiving the rewards for that loyalty. The few items that cannot be made anywhere in the Outback region will be shipped from New Avalon (or whatever production site is manufacturing them). Technical books would also be shipped on chip, and the books made on-planet for the local schools.
Bonus points if Hanse is making a personal tour of the region to reward the local lords for being loyal, and pirates attack the planet while he and his bodyguards are on-planet. Pirates vs local militia are one thing, pirates vs Elite Davion Guards would be hilarious.
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Currency that you can't spend worth nothing. Or from different point of view "to buy something you need to sell something" ("to sell something you need to buy something" is also valid as if you don't buy anything seller don't have money to buy). Reach have nothing to sell. Hence they don't have money that FedSun would accept.
Idea that people would just "somehow" get money to buy stuff "just because" is akin to idea that bread grow on shelves in supermarket.
There's always something to sell, even if its just stuff like original tv programming, books, unique works of art, etc. The goal of the FS would be to develop the Reach as a protectorate. To do so, they would bind them closer with economics. The Reach would take advantage of this by stockpiling more valuable foreign currencies like CBills, Pounds, Kroners, etc. You use some of them to amass Comstar, FS, DC, FWL governmental savings bonds. And then you base your currency on that. Now you have a stable backing for your local script and a much more valuable rainy day accumulation fund.
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There's always something to sell, even if its just stuff like original tv programming, books, unique works of art, etc. The goal of the FS would be to develop the Reach as a protectorate. To do so, they would bind them closer with economics. The Reach would take advantage of this by stockpiling more valuable foreign currencies like CBills, Pounds, Kroners, etc. You use some of them to amass Comstar, FS, DC, FWL governmental savings bonds. And then you base your currency on that. Now you have a stable backing for your local script and a much more valuable rainy day accumulation fund.
The Reach as a protectorate is just silly, they survived for so long because in part they had nothing worth conquering (not worth the hassle), and the FC can't actually defend them well as the Reach is on the other side of the CC & TC. The only reason for the FC to develop the Reach is to use them as a distraction, thus first publicly exaggerating the investments to paint a target on the Reach, and hoping that either the TC or CC send in troops at a time that the FS could take advantage of any new weak spots in the borders.
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that is one of the primary purposes of protectorates... as distractions
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Achieving the Reach as a Protectorate or even just a recognition and trade treaty is a Stalking Horse to the other Powers in the Region.
If the Taurians decide to react and attack the Reach to restrain them, that gives the Davions reason to attack.
If anyone of the powers in the region causes trouble, via even threats to the reach, the Davions will move onto their border and threaten them or attack.
Hanse would love to have reason to stomp anyone or all of the remaining powers in the region.
Then he would end up with a Border that could then have access to NIOPS.
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If the reach was not an setting for a game but just a paragraph in source book would people still be going on about it. It like when the gm mentions a green door in the street and the PC spend ghe next 3 sesion plotting about this throw away line. Chris has said SI vaguely rember the kickstarter but that it.
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Achieving the Reach as a Protectorate or even just a recognition and trade treaty is a Stalking Horse to the other Powers in the Region.
If the Taurians decide to react and attack the Reach to restrain them, that gives the Davions reason to attack.
If anyone of the powers in the region causes trouble, via even threats to the reach, the Davions will move onto their border and threaten them or attack.
Hanse would love to have reason to stomp anyone or all of the remaining powers in the region.
Then he would end up with a Border that could then have access to NIOPS.
But the Davions never needed a reason to attack anyone, they just do. ;)
However if the timing is off then the reach would have been smashed and looted. For the FC investing money in the Reach would be an efficient way to loose money, like throwing money on the street or walking around with cash sticking out of the back pocket. The money is better spend on underdeveloped FS planets, as there are many of them.
that is one of the primary purposes of protectorates... as distractions
That is a new one, and none of the actual protectorates that I knew of would function well as a distraction.
The main purpose of a protectorate is to extend the zone of influence, but that won't work here as there are hostile nations between them.
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***MOD NOTICE***
The discussion of "legitimacy" of fan fiction stops, now. Obviously, if CGL had an issue with it they wouldn't provide an outlet for it.
Back on topic.
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SB thread got locked multiple times because the discussion got waay of the tangent and people ignored mod warnings, so fools are everywhere.
And I have a sneaking suspicion that there will be only one protectorate - St. Ives Compact. Reach is just too far to be of any use and it's leaders might have issues with being reduced to the status of protectorate.
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So when do you think Smith will mention ' Far Country '?
It's a joke...
Sheesh, some people.
TT
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So when do you think Smith will mention ' Far Country '?
It's a joke...
Sheesh, some people.
TT
I liked Far Country.
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So when do you think Smith will mention ' Far Country '?
It's a joke...
Sheesh, some people.
TT
>:D >:D >:D :thumbsup: :thumbsup: or that one book with that one clan we all love >:D
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>:D >:D >:D :thumbsup: :thumbsup: or that one book with that one clan we all love >:D
which one is that???
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which one is that???
wolverine
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>:D
Wow! This story is amazeballs. The number of times that I sat down at night, before sleep, to read and be surprised by the morning light... Well, suffice to say , much like Smith I seek the break of sleep.
Thank you for this. I truly appreciate that you shared your story with me , and I look forward to getting transfixed with the next chapter!
Sincerely ,
A fellow Blue Blaze Irregular - "Longshot"
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Well that was a hell of a update and a loved one at that. Very curious to see how things move forward as you do your time skips. I emagine you would do this untill the clan invasion?
Anyhoo, thank you again for a great chapter and look forward to the next one!
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In case anyone is panicking and searching for a new chapter, so far as I am aware, Chris hasn't updated since the chapter posted here in August. Which is a shame, but it was a good chapter.
And I'm fairly sure he's alive and well so maybe there will be one soon.
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eh give it time. This story has years of potential so if it takes years to unfold I am fine with that
I recently spent like 3 weeks, basically 1 week in each of Oct, Nov and Dec in the hospipital for CO^2 poisoning and "a touch of pneumonia (though I remain Covid19 negative). Because of struggles waiting for state temp disability to kick in, free fan fiction and things like youtube and bitchute are what kept me sane.
Keep up the good work Chris.
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*snip*
And I'm fairly sure he's alive and well so maybe there will be one soon.
Glad to hear that! We'll be here whenever the next chapter posts! :thumbsup:
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Had my hopes up for an update.
I still hold out hope. Chris mentioned he had a lot written and pared out the last chapter to post it.
At this point I’d take half scribbled notes on napkins.
To find out what happens next
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I... Kinda sent a thank you letter because my job was going back to full time and I was spending more break time in my office than the staff room, reading and rereading the story. He posted an update maybe a week later, and it was great, but I feel a bit guilty.
I'm sure he's still writing. Be patient.
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Yes I'm still writing. Right now a delightful bit of trolling and counter trolling between John Smith and Natasha Kerensky in fact. I'm hoping (and not sticking to this one bit mind you) for an end of month update.
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Glad to hear it! Take all the time you need. :thumbsup:
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Great looking forward to it Chris!!! Thank you!!!
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Thank you for letting us know ^-^
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i sooooo can not wait!!!!
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Don't kill yourself over the new post, but please know that as soon as it drops I will be immediately reading it like five year old tries to slurp up an entire place of spaghetti at once. I'm on pins and needles to see what nonsense John gets himself into next.
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Just reread this. Very good. Should you choose to do so I eagerly await its continuation.
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That little new notification held such promise and such disappointment.
At this point I would take scanned copies of the neoliberals he Kota ideas down on. Just to see a glimpse of what happens next. I am sure his trolling between John and nat will be well worth the wait. But darn it all the wait is killing me.
Be safe. Write lots. And push the post. reply. Submit. Send button.
Thank you
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Hmm. I'm unwilling to poke the bear, in his case. I sent a Thank-You in August since school was back in and I was spending more time at my desk at work and he posted more soon after, but its a little disrespectful. I guess all we can reasonably do is wait. Darn it.
That little new notification held such promise and such disappointment.
Just look at the side for the last poster's name. Or try Spacebattles, you can watch threads and they come up as notifications. Plus, he seems to post there first.
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The next chapter is again over 30K words and still growing ... I think I'm going to have to chop it up a little. Maybe.
But it is progressing even if drakensis is as always shaming everyone with his ability to write out incredible work at incredible speed :)
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Heck, he writes it faster than I can read it on any given day! ::)
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Gute Dinge will Weil Haben! ; ::)
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Hmmm... *Weile? ???
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30k words and growing.
I’m happy to know you are still working on it! It gives more hope than a single x-wing flying past a ship bay camera.
Patiently (barely) waiting for the next instalment.
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The torment, well at least it hurts less then banging my head against the cinder block while I wait.... :D
Can't wait for the next chapter!
Thank you!
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I am interested in seeing where Jonh goes and what if anything his new mech we be. Hopefully, another Maurader as he already is trained and used to that mech. Or if he moves up in weight class then a Victor/Battlemaster.
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i am just hoping it doesnt end with Bob Newhart waking up and saying Honey i just had the weirdest dream
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I am interested in seeing where Jonh goes and what if anything his new mech we be. Hopefully, another Maurader as he already is trained and used to that mech. Or if he moves up in weight class then a Victor/Battlemaster.
Oh dear. Here comes the shipping war over what 'Mech John will be paired with.
Can't readers give the poor guy a few days to recover from the loss of his one true love? Marauder-chan was so young...
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Remember, he just walked off into the urban jungle sans security detail.
He's going to be driving a Vindicator, or a permanent truth serum drip in a Terran clinic.
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Remember, he just walked off into the urban jungle sans security detail.
He's going to be driving a Vindicator, or a permanent truth serum drip in a Terran clinic.
Either this or Hanse will put him in an urban, part of the NAIS militia
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No, no, clearly the mysteriously standing around mechwarriors from the suiciding light mechs that tried to take out the Alacorns are gonna kidnap him and take the killer of Kurita off to New Samarkand for interrogation with a little help from Comstar. Then he'll be 'rescued' by the Dragoons! It's obvious!
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I can never remember my login for SB (where there are about 100 pages of posts and 4 derail warnings for every story post), so I'll post here.
First- Chris, great story, lots of fun. Keep it up! :)
Shipping:
-John's going to end up with the therapist/psychologist lady from the hospital.
-Rebuilding/refitting a new Royal Marauder should be viable at this point, even if it's using hand-built spares from NAIS or first-run attempts from new factories. The Dragoons, even if they don't like him, owe him a lot. We know they had the info and tooling to roll out fully ClanTech Dire Wolves in 3051, even if in small batches, so they could probably come up with a similar Marauder using whatever they have onboard the Hephaestus. There'd probably be a 6-9 month lead time for that, though... but the Dragoons also produce the Marauder II.
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Well, Blackwell Industries produces the Marauder II FOR the Dragoons...
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Oh dear. Here comes the shipping war over what 'Mech John will be paired with.
Can't readers give the poor guy a few days to recover from the loss of his one true love? Marauder-chan was so young...
Actually that is the part where anyone who watches this will think he is being very much a mechwarrior cultist. To save the first Prince he had to self destruct his lostech star league era mech. Of course he is going to a bar to get drunk.
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John being an Aussie and a US ally should get a 'Mech' that follows NATOish command dictates basically a mech in line with the M577 TOC https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M577_Command_Post_Carrier and just think of all the commentary that Melissa could toll with that kind of mech... and that Hanse could 'assist' his brilliant wife with :-)
Thank you!
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John being an Aussie and a US ally should get a 'Mech' that follows NATOish command dictates basically a mech in line with the M577 TOC https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M577_Command_Post_Carrier and just think of all the commentary that Melissa could toll with that kind of mech... and that Hanse could 'assist' his brilliant wife with :-)
Thank you!
hmm a intel guy in a Cyclops aint a bad idea, especially with a little tweaking
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hmm a intel guy in a Cyclops aint a bad idea, especially with a little tweaking
Makes him a sort of priority target, though ... I mean that everyone would gun for the guy in a cyclops because he must be the commander ...
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hmm a intel guy in a Cyclops aint a bad idea, especially with a little a LOT of tweaking
FTFY
No... It's too early for a one-off F-C prototype, the Marauder II or Timber Wolf don't fit with Smith's practical nature (Although either would be cool, the Dragoons are the only possible source, so I'm going to say it has to be from Hanse, Katrina, or Melissa.) and from his comment above, he will be involved with the Dragoons in the next chapter.
I'm not sure what it will be, but suspect you might be right. Perhaps one of the upgraded Banshees, painted in the colours of the 4th Royals and assigned as a liaison between the Steiner's 4th Royals RCT, Davion Assault Guards RCT, and the Dragoon force attacking New Samarkand as part of Operation Lactic? Not sure where we are in the timeline.
I still hold out hope for him to become Lord of the Periphery March and get together with a retired Katrina Steiner to advise him. And have Hanse and Melissa name the kid after him and make him a godfather,
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Once they discover he is missing they might put the planet in lockdown and start a massive man hunt . They look at all the security recordings and see he snuck out and start looking at any city camera's to track his movements to where he is . They then drag his drunk ass out of the bar and throw him into a cell until someone comes and gets him . With the scare everyone goes through he gets a good talking to and then he gets teased about it until the end of the story .
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Once they discover he is missing they might put the planet in lockdown and start a massive man hunt . They look at all the security recordings and see he snuck out and start looking at any city camera's to track his movements to where he is . They then drag his drunk ass out of the bar and throw him into a cell until someone comes and gets him . With the scare everyone goes through he gets a good talking to and then he gets teased about it until the end of the story .
It has been noted already on SB, what is going to happen. The bar tender will be whistling a lot as they try to ignore the head of MIIO that steps into their bar, annoyed.
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Better still, he should have a black bag thrown over his head, and hustled off into a van and driven through the night. THen the van stops, he's pulled upright, the bag is pulled off, and Quintus Alliard says "That was dumb, and I hope the time we gave you to reconsider your ways was sufficient!"
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Better still, he should have a black bag thrown over his head, and hustled off into a van and driven through the night. THen the van stops, he's pulled upright, the bag is pulled off, and Quintus Alliard says "That was dumb, and I hope the time we gave you to reconsider your ways was sufficient!"
Or it's just Melissa, with a disappointed look on her face...
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Yup, that works too :)
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I really do not think he could just walk out without anyone noticing and following him discreetly.
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Nah he most likely has electronic tracking devices in his clothing and he would be watched from a distance and face it,every bar on the planet hasn't least one staff member connected to intel
As to the mech a normal cyclops 10Q is fine but a banshee 3S wouldn't suck
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Note: the SB thread is staff-locked again whilst under review for de-railing ....
As to the mech: isn't the "Banshee BNC-5S" already around? Smith still needs work with his heat management IIRC and a Banshee "BNC-3S" is known to running hot? Or a BNVC-3S modded with DHS?
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Note: the SB thread is staff-locked again whilst under review for de-railing ....
As to the mech: isn't the "Banshee BNC-5S" already around? Smith still needs work with his heat management IIRC and a Banshee "BNC-3S" is known to running hot? Or a BNVC-3S modded with DHS?
just to make sure im looking at the same forum and link... what date was the post? I'm seeing Aug of last year...
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just to make sure im looking at the same forum and link... what date was the post? I'm seeing Aug of last year...
Sn thread last bottom post as of Monday afternoon
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I think you're mixing up two stories here cklanner, you're probably referring to "Welcome to the Jungle!" from Speaker4thesilent over there which indeed got locked on monday afternoon. Also that one has no links whatsoever to this one here.
Chris's parallel thread with the same tile as this one here hasn't been posted into for quite some time (near end of oct 2020 in fact) and since SB really dislikes thread necro-ing (anything above 14 days inactivity -> you better not post in there to bump) ...
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yeah there is during 3026 iirc, 5s wont be out for 20 years
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me i'm thing more along the lines of ferris bueller's day off and the cubs game.
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I wonder what the odds of us getting at least 10k of chris’ 30k+ words for us to devour. Before I finish rereading the story from the beginning again.
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Urbanmech lam......
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i am just hoping it doesnt end with Bob Newhart waking up and saying Honey i just had the weirdest dream
or him in the shower?
;D
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Yep 😄
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My prediction for the battlemech he gets next...
well, I'm gonna redact this in case it's true.
Natasha Kerensky glanced down at the display and felt a wry sense of humor rise in her. Toggling her coms, she asked "So how's it ride?"
Smith's reply was quick, and dry. "Like battlefield salvage that's been blasted apart and had the pilot hosed out of the seat. The rotator cuff on the left shoulder's bad, and I haven't got the equipment to modify the security how I like...And you had me painted up to be your twin in case we run into a headhunter unit which is incredibly dangerous to me."
The second black Warhammer stomped down the ramp, only a tiny Davion sunburst on the collar distinguishing it from her own 'Mech. "It's a good mech, and you earned it in battle kid. Just try to keep up, and don't give the game away too fast."
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Heheheheee.
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That certainly would be amusing! >:D
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OK a couple of minor quibbles:
1) For whatever reason the term Freezer only applies to the prototype DHS, not the fully mature version. Weird I know, but that seems to be the situation.
2) In the Warrior Trilogy CC worlds on the FWL border surrender to the FS rather then be taken by the FWL, so the reverse happening here is rather odd.
On the subject of what 'Mech John gets next, well Chris has already telegraphed what he's getting, and he did it BEFORE he telegraphed that he'd be getting a Marauder and how he'd be taking out Yorinaga.
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OK a couple of minor quibbles:
1) For whatever reason the term Freezer only applies to the prototype DHS, not the fully mature version. Weird I know, but that seems to be the situation.
Dependent upon sourcebook. Original TR3050 called the mature ones "Freezers" too, though I suspect that use fell off over time.
2) In the Warrior Trilogy CC worlds on the FWL border surrender to the FS rather then be taken by the FWL, so the reverse happening here is rather odd.
On the subject of what 'Mech John gets next, well Chris has already telegraphed what he's getting, and he did it BEFORE he telegraphed that he'd be getting a Marauder and how he'd be taking out Yorinaga.
I missed it. What'd he telegraph?
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Gotta be an Urbie
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Gotta be an Urbie
Man talking about trolling someone. make it pink, highlighter yellow, or plume crazy purple and keep it up for a while then show him the real one.
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nah
Melissa goes deep on this one
its painted as a minion, and minion is his call sign
granted it could have the stats of a fire javelin in a urbie shell
:-)
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My personal guess is Akira Brahe's captured Orion, refitted to SL standards. (Could be wrong, but it's what I'd do... And it's a heavy like the Marauder, so it might take less time for him to get acclimated to it, if that's a factor.)
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I started reading this again at work - gosh, I hope Chris hurries up already!
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I am jaded. Saw the new update. Immediately saw that it was on the same page. 23. Yup don’t get your hopes up.
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You know, I'm getting anxious about another chapter - I don't want to jostle Chris' shoulder, but it would be nice to start the new school year with something new to read. He doesn't come here often but, "Please post more!"
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I like this one
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DANG, Thought it was update... :'(
Well from Chris's prior work it should be great when it does post.
Sorry for being 'part' of the 'problem' but just wanted to put in my .02 Kroner! :)
Thank you.
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*Blows dust off thread,*
Chokes, crawls away, comes back in chemical warfare gear with a giant fan instead*
So yeah, been a while. TLDR version; life. Oh life. Oh life.
But lets get this show back on the road with the last chapter of Book 1;
Chapter 19:I'm a celebrity? Get me outta here!
So, there were no dive bars in Avalon City.
For that matter, there were no quiet corner pubs in Avalon City either.
Well I mean there surely were somewhere. But in my limited time exploring Avalon City back when I first arrived I hadn’t found any, nor had I found any today. Plenty of drinking establishments that looked posh indeed (half of which were closed this early in the day and the other half looking packed with far too many ‘respectable’ looking people), but no places that suggested you could grab a booth, a drink, some chips and some time alone.
God I missed Google maps and smartphones right now. In some ways this future was awesome. In others...
There was a thread back on Spacebattles in the day where everyone had been arguing about where the hell our ‘Jetsons’ cars were. About how people in the 50’s and 60’s had imagined a future that wasn’t even close to what had actually occurred. Someone, I couldn’t remember who, had made the rather profound observation that everyone in the 50s and 60s had expected a revolution in energy technology as we entered the atomic age …
But instead of portable and dense sources of energy, we had instead gotten a revolution in information technology that very very few people had foreseen.
And although Battletech had cracked fusion ‘Q’ in the 2020s, it had mysteriously missed a lot of the steps in computer technology my world had gone down to end up in a very different place. And while you could handwave a lot of that from the perspective of a tabletop game, from the other side of the looking glass...
Sidney and Tex from Team Banzai had spent considerable time trawling through my old uni textbooks that had ‘come through’ with me, under my bed. But in the end, they had just ended up with even more questions than answers around how our timelines had so wildly diverged. There was no single ‘for want of a nail’ moment we could find, just a lot of different choices, personalities and seeming failures to look at alternatives. RISC computing had never really become a ‘thing’ and general purpose processors hadn’t exploded onto the scene and set the PC revolution up. Combined with some (genuinely fascinating) breakthroughs in optical processing in the USSR in the 1970s that had seemingly directed R&D down wildly different paths…
Well, here we were.
By the time of the Age of War, computer technology had stagnated into a very different paradigm. Producing custom and highly specialized computer hardware for specific tasks and leveraging big mainframe-terminal models rather than local processing. To say nothing of building to a robustness completely absent from almost all commercial electronics from my time because the stagnation didn’t lend itself to planned obsolescence paradigms.
Ultimately, it seemed necessity was not always the mother of invention. Not when FASA renditioned her to a black site just over the border and firmly denied they had ever heard of her.
Really, the only good thing to come out of a week of me saying ‘What the ******?’ a lot reading history books was that a very excited Sideny and Tex had been released to head off to the University of Washington on Donegal with a blank cheque from Katrina Steiner. They had big plans to build teams to adapt scientific and engineering paradigms that my textbooks had laid out to both contemporary technology and in starting from scratch. They had even invited me to come with them … but I knew my limits and had long forgotten far too much of the coursework at university that might have actually been useful to their goals.
And being brutally honest, I just wasn’t intellectually on their level.
Still if nothing else, their new project had meant that they had been hundreds of light years away when Kurita had smashed into what otherwise would have been their battalion -
I inhaled sharply through my nose and held my breath for a moment as I froze on the footpath I had been somewhat aimlessly wandering down. The sudden stab of the memory coming back far too clearly to me. Watching from a distance as Team Banzai’s indicators had been overrun by hostile contacts, swiftly going from green, to red, to black on my tactical display, the chaos of battle and the -
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in and out, letting the memories go. Forcing the memories to go.
Man, I really needed a drink.
Really, I just needed time out from any public recognition, nobility games, military concerns or just responsibility in general to skulk (or sulk?) for a while. I hadn't planned on getting smashed to the point of passing out or anything stupid like that; I still had enough sense to know my limits and the danger of getting sloshed in public was something I was acutely aware of.
After all, the last thing anyone needed was me running half naked down the street screaming loudly to everyone I saw that the Toaster Worshipers were going to Holy Shroud our asses again or something…
But I had damn well earned a bloody drink and some time out on my own, hadn’t I? Not to mention something other than hospital food…
Well if you have John, you ain’t going to find it around here I thought as I glanced around, realizing that my mindless wandering hadn’t even come close to getting me out of the high-class shopping areas of Avalon Cities CBD, which seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction I traveled. All of it was open and running a normal trading day in a kind of retail defiance of the recent Kuritan attack, with lots of foot traffic as I looked around ... and then I winced internally as I noticed a kid of about seven or eight years old staring at me. He was dressed in adorable children's clothes that made him look like he was wearing a mechwarriors cooling vest and he was tugging at his distracted mother's arm and pointing at me - but I quickly sidestepped into another arcade off the main road, cutting through it and cursing under my breath.
Crap. That was the third time I had been recognized. And by a kid this time!
The first time was by an enlisted AFFS crunchie in a CMM uniform who had snapped a salute to me as I passed him on the footpath. I had returned it on reflex, but no-one on New Avalon took any notice of soldiers saluting each other and like a good soldier on duty he didn’t stop to chat as we strode past each other.
Well, I suppose even in civilian clothes the odds were high that a local AFFS soldier would know who I was.
The second time was by a young woman leading what I could only describe as a ‘clique’ of older high school aged women, all dressed in what even I recognized as staggeringly expensive clothes and designer accessories that only a bunch of aristocrats' daughters on the capital could (or would) casually flaunt. Plus shopping bags for more of the same they were carrying as they giggled along their merry way.
Clearly, the kids were taking full advantage of the last day of all schools being shut down due to the Combine attack to do a touch of shopping and as I passed them in the middle of a pedestrian crossing my eyes incidentally met those of their leader … and in that split second I saw the sudden recognition as her eyes as we passed …
I’d kept walking without breaking stride as the traffic started to move behind me, trapping them on the far side of the busy road for now - but felt a cold itch on the back of my neck as I heard someone yell the name ‘Smith!’ a couple of times. Trying to look as casual as I could and resisting the strong urge to break into a run or look over my shoulder, I rounded the next corner as I reached the end of the block, before crossing the road a short distance down and entering a large shopping center at a brisk walk. I took the first escalator up a level and from there I was able to look back over the street wondering if I was just being too damn paranoid - before letting loose a profanity under my breath as the clique reappeared from around the corner, coming to a halt from what must have been an impressive bit of sprinting carrying those bags and in those stilettos.
And all of them had 31st century equivalent of mobile phones out, with attached ads-on cameras active, scanning for me like a bunch of God's damned Exterminators…
I didn’t wait around and chessed it with as much forced calm and ‘brisk walking’ as I dared through the shopping center to its far side to exit as far away from them as possible, turning south to head towards the Albion River district … and I had made it a block before that kid had just recognized me. But inside the gleaming marble arcade looked to be a rather upscale shopping store or department store. I took a second to think before my eyes settled onto one of the boutique shops inside and I took a deep breath.
Well, if it worked for Clark Kent…
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Sunglasses? Check.
Light blue work dress shirt? Check.
Sharp looking black business trousers? Check.
Light but highly fashionable jacket over the top? Check.
Massive paper trail that even SAFE would be able to follow? Check Check and you’d better believe Check!
I had been inside the store for about twenty minutes as I went from counter to counter to put a new outfit together. I mean, at first when I had entered, the sort of floor-walker type manager busy patrolling had intercepted me smoothly and not quite looked down his nose at me to ask me ‘if I needed any assistance’. All done with that polite upper class exaggerated patience that screamed ‘I think you’re lost friend!’ and that the only assistance I needed was polite instructions to the door.
I let it wash off me though and simply told the man that I was going to need a new business casual look to change into. He of course had with only the most brief of glances at my tracksuit, asked if I had a budget range in mind …
All of which made the look on his face when I handed over my Gold-Hill Platinum Star funds card and politely told him that I was happy to spend whatever was necessary even more priceless than the piece of plastic I had flashed.
Said card could only be issued by the Davion family of New Avalon and had a credit limit on the order of me being able to walk into Achernar BattleMechs and walk out an hour later with a receipt for a brand new Phoenix Hawk. Which meant A) I had enough money on me to buy out this entire store (and the building too if I wanted) and B) I was personally connected to the ruling family of the Federated Suns.
The speed at which the man switched gears was actually a little bit scary as every trace of barely tolerant disdain for me behind his faux upper class hauntiness vanished in a moment and he personally saw to getting everything I needed together as fast as possible.
Still, as sickeningly obsequious as he was I couldn’t fault his speed or knowledge as in a whirlwind he took me around a half dozen counters to pick up everything I needed in very quick-smart time.
So, one change of clothes later PT Gear John Smith had vanished from the streets and the considerably more slick looking ‘John Doe’ was strolling his way, unconcerned, through the crowds. Fitting in perfectly, if I dared say so, with the middle-upper and lower-upper class people bustling about the shopping districts of Avalon City as I wound my way down towards the Albion River. No sign of a goon squad from MIIO. So either they hadn’t localized me yet, weren't even looking for me yet … or were looking, had found me, but were staying covert far beyond my ability to spot them.
Testing that, I made my way in a zig-zag towards the waterfront, doubling back once or twice and otherwise tried to use what tricks I could think of to spot any tails … and I saw nothing.
Of course, if they were there, they were undeniably going to be far better than me at this game. And if so, probably regarding my efforts like Bravo Company in Generation Kill watching in disbelief as their embedded reporter ‘ran in a Serpentine fashion’ when crossing a street…
On the other hand, I doubt they would have bothered following me covertly. They would probably just pull up in an unmarked car, jumped out, presented their IDs and code words before ‘inviting’ me to ride with them to the Davion Palace where I was going to be yelled at by someone with a hell of a lot more braid on their uniform than mine. The thought of which made me wonder again about the wisdom of going theoretically UA on everyone, even if my paper trail should hopefully be a strong enough hint of where I was and what I was doing…
Pushing that thought aside on the grounds of ‘if it happens it happens’, I drifted down into the waterfront district of the city as midday approached. This part of the Albion River was definitely one of the big food strips of the city. There were dozens of restaurants ranging from the ‘don’t even bother calling for a table unless you’re working for a noble’ examples high above to much more family friendly middle-class restaurants spread under them and finally what amounted to upscale fast food restaurants just back from the long linear park along the waterfront itself. And you know, it had been far too long since I had just grabbed some food and sat in a part to decompress. And happily moving down one of the numerous cobblestone laneways under the terraces to the park, I entered into the sunshine and …
Huh. This was … different?
Directly in front of the large open plaza the laneway opened onto, this chunk of the riverbank park had been lightly fenced off by crowd barriers. Inside there were easily many thousands, perhaps ten thousand or more, people facing a temporary stage of some sort. On said stage, someone was giving a speech echoing across the area about … infrastructure spending?
That made me blink and walk forward in curiosity.
There were plenty of news holocams recording too and as the person finished his speech, some people in the crowd were loudly cheering and clapping and waving … political placards while others pointedly did not…and some others just glared.
Then it finally clicked. And fascinated, I worked my way across the plaza to the park's edge to see this up close..
The core legal rights of the people of the Federated Suns were enshrined by the ‘Six Liberties of the Crucis Pact’. Even if to be brutally honest on some of the most remote worlds in skid row those ideals were noted more in their ‘uneven’ application, on most established worlds they were seen as the pillars of society and treated as such.
The first liberty was that every citizen of the Federation could own property and land. And given the de facto serfdom that existed on some planets in the Draconis Combine and Capellan Confederation? This was actually often thought of as the most important liberty by a lot of people in the Suns. The second was the right to privacy (which was in a never ending legal battle with MIIO but still fighting the good fight) while the Third was a right ‘to own weapons’.
A right that went up to and included privately owned Battlemechs. Really put the NRA into perspective.
Of course, very few non-noble people could afford Battlemechs, had the opportunity to acquire one or even had the influence to get onto the waiting lists. To say nothing of the running costs of using one and maintaining it without access to military supply chains. The lucky few commoners that did get their hot hands on one almost always got at least a Knighthood from their Baron to become the founder of a Mechwarrior House. A position to help offset the upkeep of the mech over the long term so long as they promised to bring it to the use of their liege and/or the AFFS as necessary. For a lot of troops in the AFFS, the dream of being able to claim a Battlemech as a spoil of war was their ‘winning the lottery’ dream - and about as likely to happen frankly as winning said lottery. So in reality, the Third Right was mostly exercised by retiring AFFS soldiers to buy out their personal issue weapons. A practice especially popular on border worlds to ensure the general population could (and would) be a pain in the neck for any hostile occupation force.
The Fourth Liberty was the right to personal liberty. That meant quite a few things, but pretty much ensured there was no slavery or serfdom in the Suns and acknowledged the right to express yourself (including a more-or-less free press). All very important of course without any doubt and blended into the Fifth Liberty; the right to expect fair treatment which formed the foundation stone for the Federated Suns judicial system and set strict limits on what the nobility could do to the commoners under their purview. Small little things like preventing arrest without charge, imprisonment without a fair trial and ensuring there were rights of appeal and judicial review - even if, again, in practice this could vary greatly depending on how developed a planet was and how close to ‘Lord Humongous’ the local Duke was.
But possibly the most important liberty that ensured the others was the Sixth. That all people had the right to participate meaningfully in planetary government and decision making; hence what I was watching play out in front of me.
Over the centuries that ‘meaningfully participate’ had mostly codified into Local Government Authorities or LGAs that were elected to every Barony. They varied from planet to planet, but almost all of them were based on what I recognized as a modified Westminster system. With the Baron or Baroness serving as a sort of neutral chamber speaker, but otherwise remaining hands off and letting the people day-to-day run their towns, cities and regions on their own. Bigger worlds like New Avalon had larger political parties existing across Barony lines, most however were pretty insular to their local region and local concerns.
It was a slightly oddball hybrid system to me, but it worked surprisingly well on most planets as it turned out. Letting the people run their own affairs and execute their own policy decisions with a good level of agility, while the nobles stayed inside their own swim lanes looking after larger planetary and interplanetary issues alongside managing their own lands, industries and tenants.
That wasn’t to say there wasn’t friction now and again but genuine clashes between the elected Governments and the nobility were something smart nobles tried very hard to avoid by staying engaged and in partnership with the people. In part because clearly spelled out in the Fifth Liberty’s extended wording was the unequivocal right of the people to petition for the removal of a noble if they were abrocating their people's liberties. An appeal that could be taken all the way up the chain to the First Prince if necessary.
Implicit in that was the (unofficial but widely accepted and celebrated) ‘right’ of the people to engage in various kinds of direct actions against any noble who was abrogating their liberties. Starting with things like strikes (which could be surprisingly effective in getting higher attention if they impacted strategic industries, especially if a skilled workforce simply couldn’t be replaced) and going so far as to provide legal precedent for the violent overthrow of a noble under extreme situations.
Such uprisings were incredibly rare though. For the most part the nobility and elected Governments were competent enough at dealing with things locally. House Davion had historically made pointed examples of nobles who had decided that the ‘proles’ needed to be taught a lesson - more than once they had even done so with the Davion Brigade of Guards if they really needed to drive home how displeased New Avalon was. Yet other times an Arch-Duke or even the First Prince had ordered uprisings vigorously suppressed if it was determined that a rebellion or insurrection against a noble was unjustified. Sometimes even putting the region or even the entire planet under military law of the kind newly conquered worlds were put under until law and order was fully restored and the subversives fully rooted out by intelligence and police forces.
Apparently the Capellans were big fans of trying to astroturf uprisings in this fashion on worlds the Suns had taken from them, to destabilize a world for them to march back in.
Ergo, it was considered better for everyone to sit down and behave like adults lest the ‘boss’ come storming in, annoyed that you distracted him from his favorite game of ‘Kick the Dragon’ or ‘Crush the Crappy’. Generally by the local Count or Duke stepping in to mediate a settlement everyone could live with.
Avalon City was probably the most boring and stable local government area in the Federated Suns. But it was also perhaps the most hotly contested, because the local Baron just so happened to be the First Prince of said Federated Suns. And while being a representative on an LCA on most worlds was considered a prestigious job for a commoner? Those in Avalon City had more access to the First Prince than most Dukes.
And everyone involved knew it.
I listened for probably close to half an hour to various candidates all standing for election to the LGA, plenty of people like me coming up to the edge to gawk for a time before moving on. Each of the speakers seemed limited to speeches of ten minutes or so and they were clearly being delivered more to the holocameras pointed at them than the crowd. To my mild surprise none of them seemed to be giving any attention to the recent Combine attack on the planet and concern (outside of almost all of them starting off with prayers or thoughts for the troops injured and killed in it though, clearly an expected thing to do) with focus on issues like housing affordability, health care and infrastructure spending on this or that project. Often with quite different approaches.
It was actually all rather surprising and refreshingly … normal. Without any star-empire shaking concerns or issues, just a question of if it was really a good idea to dig a tunnel under this part of the city or not.
And for some reason I found that quite … heartening? That away from the ‘Game of Thrones’ in the Inner Sphere, the populations of planets mostly just got on with their lives-
“And you sir, do you have an opinion on the candidate you will be supporting this election?”
I blinked. Then I blinked again. Then I glanced to the side to see a holocam with a bold AVALON-PRIME logo pointed right at me and a young fashionably dressed woman pointing a microphone at me in turn and clearly waiting for an answer.
I’m never going to get that drink, am I? I thought in silent angst...
-
“I have to admit I’m actually impressed” Yvonne Davion said as the news report rolled.
Again.
Seriously, why was she playing it again?
“You handled yourself at least somewhat adroitly.”
I reached up to massage the bridge of my nose to try and ease the headache that was threatening to start coming out at that statement.
“You do know this is his fault for releasing my picture to the general public don’t you?” I pointed out after a moment but the Princes Champion just raised an eyebrow.
“If you don’t want to be recognized for doing something genuinely heroic, don’t do something genuinely heroic John” she dismissed my objection with the inflection of a grandmother chiding a grandchild for being so very silly and I bit back my first reply to protest the fact that I shouldn’t have had to do something so very heroic if Hanse had not been a bloody idiot trying to go mano-a-mano with Kurita instead of staying in his damn secure command post where he belonged!
I got the feeling she heard my silent yelling anyway, but if so she said nothing as she turned back to the Vid in her office and smiled.
“I have to say, you do know how to turn a phrase - I wonder which movie this speech was from?” she observed and right on que I started to cringe my way deeper and deeper into my seat trying to futilely hide from the reality as I watched myself appear on the vid screen pontificating like an egomaniac.
On a planetary Vidcast. Which, almost certainly, had spread out of this solar system already.
The little interview with the anchor had initially been just a couple of questions about how I felt about the candidates or if I had any that I supported personally. The kind of questions a reporter would ask a couple of dozen times working the crowd and their producer would then pick the most promising and interesting couple from and throw them into a clip for the 6PM news.
But just as I felt sure she was about to smile at my non answers, thank me and move on to someone else, she glanced away and reached up to her ear, touching it lightly. Clearly, her producer who was watching the live feed had ‘made’ me, because a split second later her eyes had suddenly bulged and she had all but shoved her microphone at me like it was a weapon and she was holding me at gunpoint with a slightly wild look in her eyes.
It was the look of a young hungry reporter knowing she had just been handed her career-making moment and was going to seize it with all her available limbs.
“Lieutenant John Smith, hero of the Battle of New Avalon!” she said on the vid - loudly enough that a lot of people had turned and done a double take in my general direction, “do you have-”
“I’m afraid I have no comment on the military operations that took place on New Avalon” I had said and I couldn’t help but wince a little.
Man, did I really sound like that? What a letdown that was. I sounded like a Periphery bogan…
My attempt to disengage with an “If you’ll excuse me-” had been left on the cutting room floor as the picture shifted to the woman seemingly teleporting forward to cut me off between blinks.
“Of course - but can you offer any opinion on the proposals of Candidate Ross?” she had said, waving with her other arm at the stage and I again kicked myself for not simply saying ‘No comment today I’m sorry, excuse me I must be going’ and instead did something that everything every episode of Yes Minister had taught me not to do.
I took the bait.
The Champion killed the vid mercifully before I had to hear my speech -again- and before the anchors could start gushing again over my eloquence, no one knowing I had cheated outrageously by quoting yet another speech from the twentieth century.
Although the line about ‘Freedom's sword cuts both ways’ was something I had come up with on my own on the spot -I think- and I was actually slightly proud of.
Still. In the final analysis, I should have just kept my mouth shut.
“It’s a good thing you shut him down when you did” Yvonne said as she turned away from the vid to face me, her old face looking surprisingly serious and making me sit up slightly straighter in the chair across from her, in her private office deep in the Fox’s Den “We didn’t see Ross making this play and he could have been a pain in the neck to deal with - but you did a rather fine job of destroying his campaign with that little speech without anyone having to lift a finger. I take it another twentieth century media plagiarism?”
“It was” I admitted. Damn you Aaron Sorkin...
“But the point is that with that one speech you obliterated any chance of this man getting into power and trying to start serious action against the Federations press. Even if they would have lodged injunctions within an hour and certainly had any laws overturned by the courts after review, it would have given the damn fool far too prominent a platform and let him position himself as the most zeal filled loyalist on the planet and off it. So, that’s another thing we have you to thank for.”
I frowned at that praise. Ross Rothman (so I had been belatedly briefed in the last hour) was a Davion supremacist whose speech I had (thankfully) missed at the start of the event. It wasn’t terribly surprising to find a hardcore Davion supporter on New Avalon of course, but Rothman took the adulation of the ruling house in the Suns to lunatic extremes. The leader of a new cross LCA political party called ‘Rising Dawn’, he wasn't happy with Hanse Davion taking a Steiner for a wife and had grumbled at length on it to his inner circle, being someone whose best friends were utterly convinced House Davion was the only hope to take the Inner Sphere by force and restore the Star League with them at their head.
Having a hateboner for Melissa had been enough to put him much more squarely on MIIOs radar (which clearly meant MIIO had informants inside his inner circle), but he hid his disquiet of her from the general public quite well. My guess is that he and people like him would have been the core of that ****** insane ‘Movement of Davion Purity’ that had sprung up a long time in the future.
For now at least, Rising Dawn's focus was on supporting the ‘righteous war’ against the Confederation to its logical conclusion and knocking them out of the picture, trying to ride the huge popular wave it was generating after Hanse had come clean on Doppelganger. But rather than encouraging people to go and do something useful to support the war effort, they thought the best thing they could do would be to push Hanse Daivon to muzzle the press from any ‘defeatist propaganda’. Loudly saying that the Government should use emergency laws to put censorship in place and lock up ‘disruptive influences’ on New Avalon to encourage patriotism and ‘true’ reporting.
This had left me mildly horrified when the reporter had given me the barebones version of this plan and triggered me into blasting the concept as something that would be far more at home in the Confederation or Combine than in a state opposing them…
“But surely one sound byte from me is hardly going to stop him. All I did was give my opinion on it…” I suggested, earning a scoffed roll of eyes from the Princes Champion.
“Smith, put aside your ‘I’m not worthy’ complex for a minute to look at this objectively like I pay you to” she didn’t quite snap, turning her attention onto me for the first time in a way that made me sit up straighter in the (admittedly rather comfortable) hotseat. And despite the fact that I wasn’t in uniform, I still felt very much like a junior officer being chewed out by someone who rather distinctly outranked me. “You are the Federations Hero of the hour. The man who saved the First Prince, killed the archenemy of the Davion family who had invaded New Avalon - and did it with considerably more drama and panache then we generally see on the battlefield. Events that Hanse has been milking for propaganda value for a week now, stirring the air of mystery about you that has the media banging on my door … and then you stand up in front of the media to defend the media like that?”
It was as Yvonne Davion tilted her head to the roof and indulged in a rare burst of almost giddy laughter that it suddenly dawned upon me that the Princes Champion wasn’t annoyed at me.
No it was far worse; the Grandmother of the AFFS and Hanse Davions XO found this whole thing hilarious.
“Well I’m glad you’re entertained Ma'am '' I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed at this whole ******.
All I wanted was a damn drink away from all this for one damned day...
“When you get to my age and have to run around squaring circles for Hanse Davion, you tend to take what you can get John'' she shrugged as she returned her gaze to me. “And as entertaining as watching you stumble around Avalon City like a Gods damned rookie Mechwarrior half your age who survived their first fight was...” she said - and even the brief ‘you have displeased me’ look was enough to make it abundantly clear she was not happy with my decision making today and force an involuntary movement of my throat; “the fact is that your political profile is only going to increase from this point forward and this is as good a launch point as any. Accordingly, it's been decided that in the short term the best we can do for you is to keep you out of the public eye while giving you something of a crash course in the more functional side of Inner Sphere politics under an experienced tutor, who can try to bring you up to speed on the basics any noble should have known by eighteen.”
“But I’m not a noble-” I started to object and then promptly closed my mouth at the look she was giving me that mixed exasperation, annoyance and authority in a way that I strongly suspected had broken far more powerful people than I.
“Smith. When you spend all day with the people at the highest level making political decisions and are going on public TV to slap down well-intentioned tyrants, you’re playing in our sandbox so stop kicking sand in my face” she laid it out bluntly. “And Hanse, the Ladies Steiner and myself - among others - would rather you didn’t embarrass us by making people think that we’d promoted a Periphery Pirate to rule a planet when the time comes.”
Oh come on, my table manners weren't that bad … were they? Wait, was that why Melissa couldn’t stop giggling when I was breaking my bread roll that night? For ****** sake…
“But chin up Lieutenant, we’ve decided that if you want some time away from New Avalon and the media spotlight, then that is the very least we can give you. Especially if you are feeling so overwhelmed right now that you feel the best thing to do is trying to go wandering off into the city without leaving so much as a message…”
-
The first thing I saw as I walked into the lounge was Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner kissing.
It was awkward. In that ‘you want to look everywhere but here but there isn’t really anything else to look at’ kind of way. Back in the 21st century we all got around it by yanking out smartphones and looking utterly engrossed in some kind of important work…
Or cat video.
But as backwards engineering work on my iPhone and iPad were apparently still at the ‘how the ****** is this even possible’ level, that was not an option I had. And unzipping my bag to pull out my clunky noteputer would have probably been a little too conspicuous.
So I just sort of stood there awkwardly in the corner of the Royal Lounge as Hanse Davion and Melissa Steiner stood at the door to the boarding ramp on the other side of the room and kissed each other. Then broke apart to talk a bit in a low volume I couldn’t hear ... then kissed some more.
This kept looping for some time.
They were so sickeningly affectionate, part of me wanted to roll my eyes. But the greater part of me couldn’t help but feel happy for the two of them. Clearly, as she had said to me back on Tharkad, Melissa wanted this marriage to work - and so did Hanse. Both of them did and as far more than a simple political match for a dynastic union. They wanted a partnership and they were making this a partnership at every level.
But now they were going to be wrenched apart - for at least a year, probably longer. It was a harsh truth that Hanse wouldn’t be there when she gave birth to their child and I had little doubt that it was the reason the two of them were seemingly so reluctant to let go of each other right now. Demands of state meant that Hanse wouldn’t be there to support Melissa and Melissa wouldn’t have Hanse there to stand by her at this very personal moment for both of them and their family.
But rather than scream at the unfairness of the universe, the two simply made every last second count now in the little free time they had been able to scrape together in what had been a very busy day.
And a very somber one too.
Today had been the funeral service for those members of the AFFS killed in action defending New Avalon. Over three hundred coffins had been laid out down the nave of the great Notre Dame Cathedral in ranks of twelve - with many coffins I knew to be empty because the soldiers they represented hadn’t left a body to recover.
The conventional and aerospace wings in particular had entire squadrons worth of empty boxes standing as mute testimony to what happened when your fighter disintegrated in low orbit or plowed into the ground at Mach 1.
The Coffins had been loaded onto a line of ceremonial converted APCs after the service, the 31st century equivalent of the gun carriage. Then when fully loaded, the convoy had set off. Slowly winding its way through Avalon City past respectful crowds until they had left and accelerated down a highway outside for the massive military cemetery in the foothills of the mountains to the west of the city.
Luckily I hadn’t had to attend that part of the service and I had spent the afternoon packing silently, while Hanse, Morgan, Yvonne Davion, BB; pretty much everyone of note bar Melissa whose presence was still top secret, had concluded the ceremonies there. Laying to rest the first troops who had defended New Avalon from the invasion of a foreign power since the founding of the Federated Suns.
And now, several hours later as the sun dipped below the horizon and twilight appropriately fell across this part of the planet, I found myself here. Standing in the starport lounge as Hanse, who had just returned from the ceremonies still in his dress uniform, arrived just in time to say goodbye to his wife.
Not that the dropship would have dared launch without letting him say goodbye of course.
Glancing around I headed to the comfortable looking chair on the other side of the room from the gangway to give them as much space as possible, pulling out the copy of today's New Avalon Herald from the pile of publications on the little side table, wincing a little as I flipped again to page 4 … and the editorial praising me written by the owner of the paper.
The press hadn’t wasted any time, that was for sure.
The 4th estate had been in a fight with Ross Rothman for more or less the entire 4th Succession War. He was still a bit of a fringe loon but, worryingly to some people, he had gathered enough of a fringe to be someone who couldn’t simply be ignored.
And if he had somehow managed to gain an LGA seat, that would have given him far too visible a platform. Not to mention access to Hanse Davion himself.
Enter John Smith.
Unsurprisingly, the Press had wasted no time after my stupid damn speech waving me furiously like a war banner to support their position. The powers that be hadn’t lifted a finger to discourage it either and almost overnight, the pain in the ass was rendered about as politically viable on New Avalon as Romano Liao…at least for now.
And I’m sure I’d just made another enemy there with the man. But honestly, compared to the enemies I already had? He’d keep.
Sighing, I flipped the paper closed and quite deliberately dropped it on the top of this months ‘Sunburst’ magazine; a more formal publication that had come out only a few days after the DCMS assault. Its front cover had that damn gunshot picture of Sovereign blowing up with bold text across it asking the question ‘Who is John Smith?’.
Spoiler alert - they were waaaaay off the mark with their answers. And I couldn’t help but wonder if Hanse had had these particular publications put in place to send me some kind of message…but buggered if I knew what it might be.
There was the sound of a hatch opening and I glanced up to just catch Melissa as she vanished through and up the gangway to the waiting dropship. Hanse watched her all the way up until I heard the distant sound of an airlock cycling on the far end, at which point he seemed to subtlety slump in on himself, staring up the ramp with a face full of very rare unguarded emotions. I politely glanced away from him until an eventual clearing of a throat drew me back to find Hanse waving me over.
“John!” Hanse Davion greeted me with a smile, gesturing to me to have a seat at the main coffee table and lounge, even as another gesture sent his bodyguards out of the room to leave us alone. “I’m sorry that the first time we’ve been able to really talk since you woke up is when you’re about to leave” he apologized as we both took our seats, the Prince spinning around a secure briefcase he had on the table and starting the process of opening it. “So if you want to get any critiques of my decisions during the NAIS engagement off your chest, now is probably the only chance you’ll get for a while.”
I raised an eyebrow at that invitation as I settled into the soft chair - but he seemed entirely serious at the offer.
And it was tempting, don’t get me wrong.
But I wasn’t the kind of guy to kick a friend when he was down and so just let a bit of a huff of air out through my nose before speaking up.
“I’m sure Melissa -and Ardan- already made my concerns crystal clear” I said instead, surprising even myself with my tact. “But with that said … if one of my family members had been gunned down by the man, I can hardly say I wouldn’t have been awfully tempted to do exactly what you did.”
“Kind of you to say it, but I’m supposed to be smarter than that” Hanse surprised me by refusing to take the offered out. I saw Yorinagas challenge and the trap, but thought that I was fast and smart enough to turn it on him and so never bothered to look for the deeper trap. A part of me has dreamed for years of facing my brother's killer, unit to unit and man to man … and in every way that mattered, Yorinaga beat me” he admitted - and I could see how much that admission grated on him.
“And when Akira shot out my knee? I’ll admit I thought it was all over. All I could think about as I crashed to the ground was Melissa and my child - and how she would have to tell them that the reason they never knew me was because I had broken my promise to her, out of sheer bloody hubris...”
His voice trailed off before his gaze turned back to me and his expression shifted to a small, tight smile, but one with something in it I couldn’t place.
“And then, a rather booming voice decreed ‘We will find another way!’ and I watched - in no small amount of disbelief I must say - as you of all people crashed into Yorinaga seconds before your reactor detonated. And in that moment, when I thought you had given perhaps the only thing you had left to give me? To sacrifice your life to stop me moving my date of death forward twenty years?”
His voice trailed off into silence but his gaze remained fixed on me as the wry smile vanished, mutating to an intensely focused look that left me a little uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat.
“Luckily, that’s why God invented the ejection seat-” I tried to be a bit glib, but Hanse cut me off.
“John…” Hanse said with a flat tone and expression, suggesting he was about to admonish me before he took a breath and let it out with a bit of a huff, leaving back into the lounge and regarding me …
“I’ve been a witness to many acts of courage in my service with the AFFS” he mulled after a moment. “Far too many of them have been the end result of people getting injured or dying protecting me. But you? You’ve always existed outside that bubble John. You are not the product, if you’ll forgive my words, of the lifetime of indoctrination that comes from living inside the Federation - nor someone who has worked your way through the AFFS into the Royal Brigade with its selective pressures for fanaticism towards House Davion. You have perhaps the most unique perspective on me - on everyone - in the Galaxy. So, if you’ll indulge me - and please don’t take this in any way an insult to what you accomplished … why did you do something so incredibly risky to save my life?”
I let my eyes lift to the ceiling in contemplation for a time before meeting his waiting gaze.
“I wasn’t lying to you back in your office on that first day abou how I wanted to make sure the Federated Commonwealth succeeded” I finally said. “And to do that, I needed you alive - that’s what I was telling myself every time I did something incredibly stupid charging after you. But beyond that … I don’t have very many friends, Hanse” I admitted, tactly leaving out the fact that after this battle, I lost a sizable number of them, pushing past the clenching that brought on. “And the thought of having to tell Melissa that I had failed to keep you alive…”
I trailed off at that, trying to not let it show just how much that horrible possibility had churned in my head through the fight, forcing a wry smile on my face.
“But honestly, at the moment? I didn’t ‘think’” I finally admitted the truth. “I just … acted. I saw Yorinaga was about to kill you and the only way I could stop him was by doing what I ultimately did.”
Hanse took it all in calmly, running a hand on his chin thoughtfully as he regarded me with a penetrating look.
“Melissa is of the opinion that - somehow- she’d ordered you to keep me safe out there, before we deployed - and that you took that as an order driving you to a near suicidal conclusion” he said, his tone now more one delivering a statement than a question and I narrowed my eyes slightly.
“She was terrified that she might lose you, even if she would never show that to you because it might distract you from what you were about to get into” I replied somewhat bluntly, getting a slight widening of his eyes - but he didn’t interrupt me. “It wasn’t so much that she ordered me to do anything though as … well, as I could read it in the look she gave me. And I just couldn’t stand the idea of letting her down by standing by as the father of her child got himself killed. But order me?”
I actually snorted a little at that, shaking my head firmly.
“No. She certainly didn’t order me to throw myself atop Kurita and blow my reactor if that’s what you mean.”
Hanse processed that for a time.
“She at least seems to feel that it is the case” he finally pointed out and I fought the urge to roll my eyes (I think with only partial success) as it finally clicked why Melissa had been unavailable today when I went looking for her after the funeral. It was the first time I had had a chance to catch up directly since the battle, but her staff had made it clear she was busy in a way that said clearly to me she didn’t want to see me ,even though we were going to be spending months together after today…
“It took the combined efforts of Kym Sorenson, Morgan and Yvonne to stop her charging right down to the NAIS when word came through that you had been found unconscious and were being rushed to medical” Hanse continued frankly. “I think … I honestly think that Melissa, for those minutes between your Mech blowing up and you being found, thought you had died. Sacrificed yourself to save my life. And honestly John? I can appreciate how that must have felt for her, because he only other time I’ve felt like that in my Mech watching yours blow up, was when Dana died,”
That admission brought my thought process to an abrupt stop like a tank locking its treads.
Hanse Davion never talked about Dana Stephenson.
Period.
As much as he clearly adored Melissa, no-one (least of all her) doubted that his first love would never fade from his memory … or that her death at Halstead Station in front of his eyes had forever changed Hanse Davion.
And for him to even talk about my actions in that context-
“So much of what you have done has gone unrewarded, but not unremarked” Hanse continued. “Even ignoring Helm and everything on that level, you’ve been an incredibly good friend to my family. And seeing you almost die like that…” his voice trailed off and for a brief moment he almost looked to be fighting to keep his composure.
Almost.
“So” he continued after the moment had passed. “I owe you my life - and the people of the Federated Suns owe you their future, even more than they already did. And I’ll tell you bluntly, it both vexes and outright shames me that in order to even begin to reward you as you deserve given everything you have done even before this battle, you first had to go and take actions that, in-of-themselves, need to be seriously acknowledged and rewarded. Nonetheless, it is an opportunity and I intend to take full advantage of it.”
I managed to rally enough to clear my throat once more. “Well, I don't think that is nec-”
“Don’t even try to start that crap on me” Hanse said, cutting my objection off with a look that shut me up faster than a Darth Vader force choke. “Not unless, of course, you want me to tell Dean Davion to give back his Federated Suns Star?”
I barely bit back my first instinct which was to snap that ‘that’s different!’ at him.
Because it was an obvious trap from the raised eyebrow all but daring me to say it!
DD on Sakhara -with far less to work with and probable death guaranteed one way or the other- had pulled his lance of cadets together brilliantly. They had suckered Yoreinga Kurita’s bodyguards out of position just enough to give him a clear run from the side, launching into a Hatchetman swinging DFA attack that he had come agonizingly close to pulling it off. Kurita barely reacting in time to Alpha-Strike him in mid-air and deflect the attack.
DD’s courage and thinking on his feet in a chaotic curbstomp of a battle just as bad as what Team Banzai and the Cadet battalion had gone through here absolutely deserved the medal he had been awarded (or would be awarded when he and the survivors finished recovering on Robinson and were transferred to New Avalon).
But my attack? Well, that was a completely different thing.
I mean sure it was an incredibly high risk charge at Yoreinga Kurita to take him out using my Mech as a walking talking nuke reactor and all that. But … that was still different.
Very different!
…
The silence lasted probably at least thirty awkward seconds, maybe even a minute before Hanse leaned forward in his seat, his arms resting on his legs as he regarded me very carefully.
“John, Have you ever heard of ‘imposter syndrome’?”
“Um …no?” I admitted honestly, blinking as I found myself a little put off at the sudden change of topic. “Is it something to do with the Doppelganger thing?”
He shook his head lightly but didn’t break his gaze.
“Not at all. No, it’s something far more insidious I’m afraid. Consider a person who is being praised for great deeds or achievements that they clearly and objectively accomplished … but the person is convinced that they only did so through luck and chance. Irrespective of reality, that is how they feel. And as they are feted by many or their peers or even the wider community for their accomplishments, which again, are quite real? They become increasingly convinced they are simply an imposter who got incredibly lucky at the right place and right time.”
He paused then, tilting his head slightly with a challenging raised eyebrow. ”Sound familiar?”
I worked my jaw a little behind a closed mouth at the not terribly subtle implication.
“Perhaps a little, but I don’t think I’m quite there yet,” I said slightly stiffly, earning a ghost of a smirk as he now leaned back again into the plush chair.
“You? Oh no, I was talking about me John” he corrected, first making me annoyed as I realized he had tricked me out of the confession-
Then double taking as the conversation suddenly took a 90 degree turn as I processed what he had just said.
Him?!
“First time was back as a battalion commander, '' he continued past my somewhat shocked expression, his tone introspective and his gaze focusing on the other side of the room - or more specifically I supposed, into the past. “As I got into real combat, I found myself getting bombarded with praise from above and below, with everyone convinced I was some kind of tactical genius par excellence. People started to call me ‘The Fox’ as I kept winning in the most unorthodox ways - at least as everyone else saw it. But in my mind? I was convinced I was just making it up as I went. That when our battle plan fell apart, as it always did, I was just luckily making the right orders at the right time and somehow we came out victors. But even as I got more and more praise, I became increasingly sure that my luck was inevitably going to fail and one day, I’d give the wrong random orders. And a great many people who trusted me were going to be slaughtered.”
I wasn’t even trying to hide my surprise verging on shock at this whole revelation.
Hanse Davion was a man who had pretty much defined the word ‘implacable’ in Battletech. Had defined the phrase ‘magnificent bastard’ in Battletech. Even my outside-context-problem crashing into his life? After the initial impact, he had simply rolled with and turned my existence to his considerable advantage.
To hear him speak like this was…
“In the end it was Dana who managed to get through to me” he continued as I sat there, my jaw working silently at this revelation, his tone turning wistful. “She made me understand and accept that it wasn’t luck - it was talent. That I had a natural skill at reading the chaos of a battlefield in motion. More than even much more experienced officers, I found I was able to anticipate and shape it to my will and I had to embrace that, not deny it. Then” he added with a bit of a laugh and shake of his head, “she loudly pointed out that I was a bloody idiot if I thought I could keep fighting the way I was, because my command style pushed right up into micro-management that couldn’t possibly work beyond the Battalion level. And with her help, I learned to be a lot more conventional in my thinking where I needed to be … while also trusting my instincts to guide them as I needed to. Not an easy balance to maintain, but thanks to her, I eventually more or less figured it out.”
“A good lesson for a future First Prince” I suggested carefully, still feeling a little wide eyed at Hanse Davions admission … but that tentative offering simply brought me a sardonic snort.
“You would think so … but no,” he grimaced. “Because when I ascended to the Throne after Ian died, with everyone looking to me to lead the realm in the chaos? In all honesty, I felt like the biggest imposter in my life. Something that Michael” - and there was an edge on that name I had never heard that made me shiver as Hanse let it slip for just a heartbeat how deep his feelings towards his rat of a brother-in-law ran - “I found out later was doing his very best to encourage, in various ways. So when the updated intel about Halstead Station arrived later that year? I, like a young fool, did exactly what I had quietly criticized my big brother for and ran back to the sound of the guns. Leaving behind the job I felt like an imposter towards; choosing the one thing I had always been good at instead.”
I kept my mouth firmly shut this time.
“Dana paid the price for me being somewhere I had no business being, doing something I had no business doing” he said quietly before now his gaze focused back on me and he took a deep clearing breath as he dragged himself back to the here and now.
“And since then, I’ve tried to live in a way that would have been the way she wanted me to live. Which means not dismissing who I am or what I can do for the Federated Suns as mere luck or flukes and listening to my instincts politically that have served me well for all these years. And right now those instincts are telling me that you know what you did on the battlefield was far beyond the call of duty. Far beyond the expectations set by people who have superior objectivity on these matters than you do. So, while I’m not asking you to be a raging egomaniac about it, I am asking you to show maturity and not cheapen the great efforts of other people by dismissing your own.”
“How so?” I asked, slightly nonplussed by the man drilling past my reflexive denial over my actions, the steel in his gaze directed at me unyielding.
“Your humility around your accomplishments is refreshing John. Truely, compared to any number of the ego-cases I’ve met over the years” he noted. “But it is also problematic to the good order and morale of the AFFS if taken too far. Even setting aside your own feelings for a moment, you have set a highly visible benchmark to the officers and troops across the AFFS of what a soldier goes above and beyond the call on the battlefield - but only if it is acknowledged as such. Because” he added, his tone turning very serious, “if you go the other way? If you wave off what you did as ‘nothing’, especially with your profile? The only impact you will have is to denigrate the achievements of soldiers who should be rightfully acknowledged, just like Dean, will look at what they did, dismiss it as less than what you did and take exactly the wrong lesson away. And that is not just corosieve to morale, it is also downright dangerous to set expectations for courage at a suicidal level for the troops.”
I bit my lip as I considered that statement, a little perturbed. The idea that people like Dean across the Federation being effectively diminished in their actions because they took their cue from me downplaying my actions?
That … was not something I had ever wanted.
Would ever want.
Men and women who had risked - and often lost - limb and life by screwing up their courage in the face of terrible and horrifying situations to tip the battle in our favor through some action above and beyond…
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“Okay. Okay, I get it” I finally agreed, holding up my hands in a sort of surrender to the First Prince, huffing out a breath and shaking my head a little as I suddenly wondered exactly how I had gotten into this mess in the first place in my head. “It’s been a long week. Don’t expect me to start bragging like a damn Solaris Champion about it, but, I accept the point you’re making of calibrating expectations. And I also accept” I added after a moment when it looked like he was about to speak, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to speak the truth, “that objectively I’m not in a position to judge my actions as a peer on the battlefield. Not compared to people like you, when I have a grand total of one battle under my belt. And so I’ll have to trust you that whatever comes out of this will be … “ I fished around for a word before deciding on “appropriate to the rest of the AFFS too.”
“Excellent. I’m glad we got that sorted out” Hanse nodded as he reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder, his mood going all-business again. “Ideally, to acknowledge your efforts I would start with a new Battlemech. While I am quite aware of how you view a ‘Mech - and that speech about having to be enough without one was brilliant I must say - the people of the Federation and the Inner Sphere will not see it that way. Replacing ‘Sovereign’ would be the absolute least expected of me after you sacrificed it to save my life - which, in turn, explains all of this” he said, handing over the first folder from his pile.
I accepted the offered folder cautiously and opened it, finding a sheaf of papers inside. All the kind of quality textured paper used on the most official documents with impressive seals embossed into them. The first of them being the logo of … huh.
Kaelon Industries.
Yes, it was a letter from Kallon Weapons Industries - no, from the CEO of Kallon directly to the First Prince. Lots of kudos to Hanse for defending his capital, his thanks for protecting the employees of Kallon stationed on New Avalon, bla bla bla … hang on-
Duke Roderick FaCrimeia wanted to give me a Battlemech?!
I stopped, focused and re-read it a bit more carefully …
Nope, that was exactly what it said.
Granted, my choice of a Jaggermech or Rifleman (which I would have made jokes about being punished with back on the tabletop) … but I was just being a ‘Mech snob there; it was inarguably an absurdly generous offer.
Battlemechs were paid for years in advance with waiting lists stretching years beyond that - you didn’t just call up an Amazon fulfillment center and have a war machine delivered to your door the next business day. Giving one to me on the fly meant a lot of people would be bumped back a slot on a list somewhere, probably each getting a few C-Bills off the price in compensation.
True, skim-reading through the lines it was clear enough that in return for a free shiny new Battlemech for the Hero of the Hour, they expected-without-explicitly-saying-it that I would accept delivery in front of as many cameras as they could arrange and not quite give a hearty endorsement of their fine machine. But flipping through the papers, it seemed that every major Mech manufacturer in the Federated Suns was offering their own premium wares to replace my obliterated ride in the same way. Independence Weaponry, General Motors, Achernar, Norse BattleMech Works?
“I don’t suppose politely rejecting all the offers on the grounds that I don’t need a Mech right now would actually work, would it?” I finally asked as I looked up and Hanse rolled his eyes - yes, he actually rolled his eyes - to the ceiling for a moment.
“You must be completely impossible to buy a Christmas present for” he muttered before shaking his head and returning his gaze back to me. “In any event, I just wanted you to understand clearly the wider expectations growing around you and your new profile. Because as it just so happens, you already have a new Battlemech. Bought and paid for and on the way from a friend of yours. So we’ll release a statement that you are honored and humbled by the offers but that you have already had a Battlemech before their offers came in.”
I blinked a little at that in confusion. Certainly there were any number of people I counted as a friend -or at least a colleague or ‘friendly’ superior- for whom getting me a Battlemech would be a relatively casual exercise of their power, even in this day and age.
But none of them were people that Hanse would feel the need to obfuscate around their identities like this...
“A … friend?” I prodded.
“Well, friendly perhaps” he shrugged, smirking a little. “It should get delivered to you en-route to Tharkad.”
“Riiiiight...” I said in my best Doctor Evil way before closing the folder and handing it back, half convinced that whatever this was all about would have to be mostly for Hanse Davions personal amusement.
“And in any event, as vexing as it remains to just give you a pat on the head and tell you to have fun on your little trip, I’m content to wait until the end of the war and reward you with the other heroes, to let you slip out of the front pages for now. But make no mistake John, it is coming” he said, his tone clear that there was not going to be any escaping having a Sunburst pinned on me or something.
But I at least had the sense to just nod in agreement now.
“So I’m going with Melissa to keep out of the line of sight of the press for a while?” I redirected the conversation tactfully, to confirm the whole plan that had been arranged for me (not by me, but for me).
“Only in part. Mostly, she and I hope that working with her on the trip will start to give you a grounding in the things you’ll need to know about the neo-feudal system on a day-to-day basis to be able to operate within it as a future peer. But yes, there should be a few other things coming up that will divert the press off you for a while presuming you can keep your head down. Mel and I recorded an interview with Avalon Prime the day before you woke up. It’s under embargo until about the time your ship will jump out, but once it goes live you can expect interest in you to drop right off.”
I nodded back in agreement. If there was anything that would suck the attention from me in an instant, it would be a Royal Pregnancy.
I mean, the revelation that the future Archon-Prince was on the way would be enough of a shockwave across both sides of the Commonwealth in of itself. But add to that the revelation that Melissa had been on New Avalon the whole time and had just left on her way back to Tharkad?
“And If we’re on schedule, Micahel should be having his heroic death about when you reach-”
“Hang on, Michaels what?” I asked as I looked up sharply and refocused immediately on that statement, wondering if I had heard correctly.
Hanse could only possibly mean Micahel Hasek-Davion and the last I had heard from Morgan had been that he was still in secret DMI custody at a secure ‘estate’ about two hundred klicks from here.
Hanse simply tilted his head slightly as if in consideration for answering that (which was bullshit, he wouldn’t have mentioned it if he didn’t intend to tell me) before finally leaning back and gathering his hands in his lap, regarding me for a moment before nodding.
“He’s going in with the 5th Syrtis Fusiliers to Sarna'' Hanse finally admitted and I felt my face turn incredulous, all other concerns pushed to the side as I took in that revelation.
“He’s - Sarna?” I echoed stupidly and Hanse just nodded as I resisted the urge to ask him if he had lost his mind-
“No I haven’t lost my mind,” Hanse assured me, proving yet again I was pretty much an open book to the man as his own gaze now narrowed, but seemingly looking at something distant beyond the room's polished ferrocrete wall. “When we confronted him with the evidence and the implication we were still getting even more in - thanks to Count Vitios spilling - I offered him a straight choice. A very conclusive high treason trial that would damage the Hasek family enormously, or, he could lead the 5th into Sarna and die a hero. In return, I’d spin his treason posthumously as just another part of RAT. A game the two of us played to feed false intelligence to Maximilian. But Micahel wanted to make a personal contribution now and so led his best men into the fight while Morgan ‘minded the store’ on New Sytris…”
“...and he tragically died to see it through, a great hero of the Federation” I finished the thought, feeling a little disquieted at the revelation, looking away as I bit my lip, wondering why the idea made me feel so...dirty?
I mean whatever reasons and motives Micahel originally held that had slowly led him down that slippery sunken cost slope called treason, Morgan himself had -
God I suddenly thought feeling a little disquieted as I glanced back at Hanse.
“Morgan…” I prodded carefully and something ugly - or perhaps pained? - flashed behind Hanse’s eyes for an instant.
“He doesn’t know, but he’ll surely figure it out” Hanse admitted with a clear weight in his voice. “I let Micahel record a video-disk for Morgan that I promised I’d deliver to him unedited once he was gone. I shipped it off to Ardan, he’ll hand it to Morgan at the appropriate time.”
I felt a pang that I wouldn’t be there for Morgan at such a moment in his life because I knew despite everything, he’d take it hard.
The rift between Morgan and Micahel had been there even before Morgan had been ‘invited’ by Hanse to New Avalon - and hell, it had probably been beyond repair by the time I had crash landed through hyperspace. It was a product of Michaels increasing paranoia over the years as he oscillated between seeing his son as either his pride and joy, or a pawn on his board in the treason game he played with Hanse - and Michael hadn’t really tried to hide his growing resentment as the ‘pawn’ kept walking off its square to go and do its own thing.
Morgan himself had confided in me that he had never really understood where his fathers increasing distance and coldness came from until Hanse had brought him in on everything after my arrival. And whatever hope Morgan might have had for history to change course had crumbled the day Hanse had quietly told Morgan that his father had, just like in the original timeline, tried to flee to Sian after being ‘sprung’.
Something inside Morgan had died that day. His innocence, or perhaps, his naivety?
By the time Michael had arrived on New Avalon, Morgan (after a couple of sleepless nights) had decided he needed to confront his father directly. Against Hanse’s advice -but with his blessing- Morgan had done so. Because despite Morgan’s - very - strong feelings of betrayal and anger for what his father had done … the truth was … Micahel Hasek-Davion was still his father.
Morgan had quietly told me later that week as he, Kym, Melissa and I had sat watching the sun set from one of Castle Davions numerous balconies that since their ‘conversation’ (which he had never talked about) he been unable to stop thinking about his father teaching him how to ride a bike when he was a child. The way he had gently encouraged him to keep getting back on as he fell off crying, telling him how proud he was when Morgan did keep at it and eventually with a few wobbles managed to get his bike moving in a straight line. His mind was haunted by the fierce pride and love the man had clearly held for his son. Morgan just revisited that memory over and over again as he tried to reconcile how things had come to this....
It made me feel oddly guilty for having such a ‘normal’ upbringing compared to the rest of the people in the room, frankly. My parents had been wonderful, loving, kind people who I missed terribly at times - and they hadn’t been born into the Game of Thrones that was the Inner Sphere for each of these people where power tested them and tried to corrupt them every second of the day.
Exhaling, I turned back to face Hanse and dragged my attention back to the here and now, pushing past the personal issues to look at the big picture, coming to the obvious conclusion.
”You’re pulling a Freddy Steiner” I observed flatly and Hanse nodded without the slightest hint of shame.
“He was the inspiration, yes” he conceded, “but I have no desire to waste the 5th senselessly either. Michael will be going in with the Crater Cobras and Screaming Eagles, plus an independent aerospace regiment to make sure it’s not a sucide mission for the troops even if I’m not telling Michael about what is waiting for him. Archie isn’t anyone to underestimate and he’ll still see this as the best real chance he’ll get to do damage to the AFFS. Micahel will be an irresistible target for Maximilian … especially after our joint gloating reaches Sian a week in advance of the attack.”
“But what if Micahel manages to win a glorious victory and come back alive?” I asked with a frown, singling out what seemed to be a major flaw in the plan. Frederick Steiner had become a legend in-universe by leading the 10th Lyran Guards Battlemech Regiment in on a suicide mission agianst no less then five DCMS units, including the Genyosha (and I could give first hand testimony on how terrifying they were to face) under Theodore Kuritas personal command during the later phases of the Lyran campaign. Officially, it was a success, with the remains of the 10th being allowed to leave by Theodore after Frederick offered his life for theirs when they were cornered in the DCMS’s burning supply depots. Freddy supposedly executed shortly afterwards by Theodore and dying a true hero of the Lyran Commonwealth.
Of course that wasn’t the whole truth. Known only to a very select few, Freddy had been caught red handed plotting treason against Katrina and had been offered a choice of either a glorious death in her name to genuinely save the Lyran Commonwealth ... or a firing squad the next morning. And his attack had, frankly, been less successful than the propaganda films made out, (despite the genuine heroics the 10th had performed) in their attempts to stall Kurita. In truth, it had been the LOKI agents Katrina had secretly deployed on his jumpship who saved the entire Isle of Skye, but that was a far less compelling story, so the victory was Freddys.
Michael Hasek however …
He’d only be outnumbered 4:3 in Battlemechs and would have a significant number of supporting regiments with his RCT. Far from impossible odds, especially if Hanse was correcting the air power imbalance and the force stayed together.
And if he won, if he became the hero who had been ambushed by the hated Big MAC but picked up the gauntlet and managed to grind his way to victory...
Hanse Davions expression however, did not change at my question. Not one damn bit.
“He won’t” he said simply and I felt a chill through my spine as Hanse told me without telling me that he had made very sure Michael was not going to make it off Sarna alive.
One way ... or the other.
“I’ve made it crystal clear what coming back alive would mean for him - and by extension, for Morgan” the Prince added after a moment, possibly off my reaction. “With what we have on him, including his full video confessions? He’d have no chance in any trial and he knows it, especially when it's made clear he was given the chance to die a hero to redeem himself and threw it away. A heroic death will cement the Capellan March behind Morgan. A public trial would only serve to destroy anything even remotely positive about his legacy, given the mood in the Capellan March right now.”
I felt my face tighten again at that. The media ‘blitz’ ongoing through the Capellan March had been a hell of a surprise to me. Soft and hard manipulation and spinning at several layers and through multiple channels. It was something that had slowly felt increasingly familiar to me the more I looked into it; seeing a highly sophisticated multi-channel PR campaign that wouldn’t have been out of place back on Earth. Incredibly well coordinated, professionally run and with a strong consistency of message; it was not the kind of battle I would have expected Hanse Davion to engage in against his Brother in law.
And it turned out … he hadn’t.
The entire thing was Melissa's project.
Cute little Melissa ‘Mel’ Steiner (and despite knowing far better I still kept looking at her that way) was behind it all. Because I had forgotten that almost before she could walk Melsisa was being trained by Katrina Steiner in how to rule a Great House. And that she was hardly the kind of young woman to just sit around in her apartments all day knitting booties for her unborn child.
More than anything, I was annoyed at myself for underestimating her and still seeing her as ‘the kid’ more often than not.
Katherine Steiner-Davion, I knew full well, had more than once in her internal monologues noted that she had learned everything she knew about manipulating people at her mothers knees. And she had managed to take over the Federated Suns without so much as a shot fired using those skills! Now granted, The Bitch running political rings around Victor and his allies wasn’t exactly an Olympic Gold Medal winning effort … but even so it was no mean feat.
Melissa however had used far more subtle methods than simply rigging public opinion polls. Going public with the Doppelganger, for example, had turned out to be her idea. Hanse had been reluctant to do so for a long time, thinking that it would make him look weak and reactive (and Maximilian strong and cunning), but Melissa had talked him around to the idea that it would only play to their advantage and Hanse had eventually bowed to his wifes instincts.
And almost overnight, the entire war had been redefined. Not just in the Federated Suns but also in the Lyran Commonwealth and even in the Free Worlds League. The Lyrans had been mixed in their reception to Davions wedding toast, mixing amusement and respect for his sheer audacity with confusion and dismay that he didn’t give Melissa Dieron instead. The Combine and Confederation were screaming loudly (and ComStar News Network were re-broadcasting those clips non stop) on how it was the most unprovoked war crime yet from a man intent on seizing control of the entire Inner Sphere even if he had to wade in blood, yada yada yada.
Then Doppelganger had been exposed … and the game had shifted in an instant.
Now, no-one in the Suns was accusing Hanse of ignoring the threat of the Combine or engaging in a vanity exercise. The outraged fury directed at Maximilian unleashed by the revelation had mostly cooled … but only into an icy determination that showed no signs of diminishing. There was an almost grim will in the public to deal with the ‘crazy Liaos’ once and for all, no matter what it took and no matter the hardships the war was demanding economically of the Federated Suns. And there Melissa was doing magic too as she ran PR campaigns with the help of local Dukes and Counts she had swung on-side, with highly visible things to help the hardships the war had imposed on interstellar shipping. Things like local lotteries, nobles very publicly economizing and sharing from their own stores - especially with families of AFFS soldiers who had died in the war to date. Or opening up their massive estates lawns to be turned into ‘victory gardens’ to grow food on worlds that were tight on it. Not doing much in gross economic terms, but doing wonders to buff morale and a firm up a sense of solidarity with the troops on the front. Who also had far more embedded reporters than I remembered ever seeing in Battletech, sending reports back on this or that Liao horror uncovered…
In short; the Federated Suns had had enough of House Liaos shit and were determined to end them as a threat once and for all. But in the Capellan March especially, there was a feeling that after centuries of war there was finally a genuine, real chance for their mortal enemy to be eliminated, thanks to Hanse Davion.
And if Michael Hasek, in this environment had been exposed as having been working with Maximilian to supplant Hanse ‘The Great’ Davion with a fake puppet loyal to Maximilian Liao?
Given the mood, he’d probably have been lucky to make it off the planet before the mob got their hands on him and tore him limb from limb.
“Well, about Sarna...” I said to deliberately move off the topic, glancing around the room on instinct to confirm we were alone and Hanse narrowed his eyes, clearly catching my meaning.
“Quintus has a contingency in place” he said in an equally sotto voice, which spoke to how this was something beyond even forcing his Archduke to take a sucide mission to evade the hangman's noose and protect his legacy.
It was also a patently ridiculous act from both of us. This room was absolutely secure ... and yet all humans from birth to death always double checked when talking about the boogeyman.
“If they” - meaning ROM we both knew - “try to take action, they’re waiting and have options to deal with it.
“They may not go for the same play - God knows I’ve spread enough ripples around” I warned and Hanse raised an eyebrow at me.”
“Really John? That thought had not occurred to any of us” Hanse observed in a tone edging on sardonic.
I winced a little at that.
“Sorry” I said and he huffed in amusement, his attitude vanishing in a moment as he shook his head, an expression of regret passing across his face for a moment.
“No, that was unseemly of me. I know you’re just being your usual fretting self worrying about every change you may have introduced into the timeline” Hanse dismissed it, turning to toss all the paperwork back that had been on the table back into the briefcase and secure it - missing me being unsure if I should feel as stung as I did.
Fretting? Really?
“So shut up, enjoy the road trip and listen to your wife as she tells me what to do?” I said instead, trying to keep the attitude out of my tone at the rebuke ... even as I wondered if he might just have a point?
“More or less” he agreed, catching my gaze and then his expression softened somewhat. “Look, leave the worrying to me John; that's what I’m paid to do. God knows you’ve earned the right to take some time off - even if randomly running out on the town was an atypically stupid way of going about it. The dice, so to speak, will land where they do. You’ve done the best you possibly can to load them for us, right now, just … just focus on the future beyond this war. You’ve given us more than enough of an edge to ride here. For now … far more important to me, to Katrina and to the FedCom is …Look, just ... keep an eye on Melissa for me John? She’s pushing herself far too hard at the moment and you’re one of the very few people she’ll listen to.”
“Isn’t that your job now?” I didn’t quite demand of him as he stood.
Hanse just offered me one of The Fox's trademark grins, patted me on the shoulder and strode towards the room's door, not bothering to answer the question with words. Just making it clear he was delegating. Great.
With a sigh, I stood, collecting my kit bag, heading for the docking tube. Next stop, Northwind…
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Finally an update! Yay! Looking forward to see how John gets his training on neo-feudalism and how he will be if he meets the Northwind Highlanders.
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Yay indeed! I continue to look forward to more! :thumbsup:
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great update... now i can put my own 260 page SI on the back burner.
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welcome back..
:D :D :D
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I was worried. I think this took me an HOUR to read and comprehend... but it was well, worth the wait...
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Good to see this update.
And, OMG, the suspense on his new 'Mech is killing me...
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When John ditched his protection detail, I figured he'd meet up with ROM, or the Mask.
Worse. Media.
(And my bet? Nightstar. All very nice of Kallon, but seriously? a Jagermech?)
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Lol its almost like John is the Battletech equivalent of a Ta'varen.
Goes looking for a blue collar dive bar for some cheap booze...comes across a hyper nationalist authoritarian in the midst of making his big move and ends him with a Naruto style talk no jutsu across the population via the media...
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Could be an Exterminator-4A...
TT
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Excellent stuff! :) Its a pleasure to read this and its always so damn well done!
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And I hope life is less problematic and more sustainable for you, Chris!
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When John ditched his protection detail, I figured he'd meet up with ROM, or the Mask.
Worse. Media.
(And my bet? Nightstar. All very nice of Kallon, but seriously? a Jagermech?)
Lot of people on Spacebattles are guessing a Marauder II, given the route he'll be on.
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Mad II is kinda obvious, and I can't recall if there's a production line outside Outreach at this point. OTOH, Nightstar production started in 3057 in the main timeline. So they could be right; I just decided on something more overtly Davion ;)
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When John ditched his protection detail, I figured he'd meet up with ROM, or the Mask.
Worse. Media.
(And my bet? Nightstar. All very nice of Kallon, but seriously? a Jagermech?)
Also getting hunted by a pack of coeds.
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Whatever it is, it better come with the same kind of command mech orientation, given his probable future path. I still pray for a MadCat with IS weapons, though. Just imagine the size of the double take.
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There´s even odds, at least, that Melissa trolls him by arranging a Locust or UrbanMech to be substituted for his new ride.
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The way I see it for mechs is either a Marauder again just upgraded with a different load out, a Nightstar which they have several of again upgraded with a new load out, a Marauder II with some SL gear installed, or a slow mech with long range weapons like an Awesome to try and keep him out of a direct fight.
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It's a Kallon mech, so either Jagermech or Rifleman
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There´s even odds, at least, that Melissa trolls him by arranging a Locust or UrbanMech to be substituted for his new ride.
Given Hanse's off-handed reference to the source being more "a friendly" than "a friend," I don't think Mel is the lady whose trollish ways should concern our protagonist...
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Given Hanse's off-handed reference to the source being more "a friendly" than "a friend," I don't think Mel is the lady whose trollish ways should concern our protagonist...
Or it´s both of them. >:D
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It's a Kallon mech, so either Jagermech or Rifleman
Exterminator blueprints discovered during excavations in 3007.
TT
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Hm. I suppose if he wanted to be completely off the wall, it could be from Banzai, Wolf, or Snord. That would really increase the possible units and be really surprising, and from his comments we know he's assigned to the Dragoons as liaison in the future, driving a borrowed Warhammer to pretend he's Natasha. Can't remember if it's on Dieron or New Samarkand (sp.), though.
Exterminator blueprints discovered during excavations in 3007.
TT
Ugh. Hope not.
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The Royal variant...
TT
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I can think of two - Natasha or Katrina.
My personal bet is Katrina.
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Or it could be from Patrick Kell, the Orion that Theodore piloted? Someone else had pointed it out. Could be a maybe if Patrick realizes that it was the least he can thank John for him leering he has a son.
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I did wonder about a Mad Cat (sourced from the 'Goons), but nah, that would send too direct a message to you-know-who I reckon.
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I agree with the earlier assessment of it being a Command 'mech. Is a Mad Cat one of those? ???
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Or it could be from Patrick Kell, the Orion that Theodore piloted? Someone else had pointed it out. Could be a maybe if Patrick realizes that it was the least he can thank John for him leering he has a son.
That Orion is the one he got in "Heir to the Dragon", i.e. formerly Alexander Kerensky´s personal ride? Yes, that would be a fitting gift.
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The Royal variant...
TT
Still no.
Didn't think of the Orion, but I guess so. I still favour the Marauder II with more command stuff, myself.
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It's a Kallon mech, so either Jagermech or Rifleman
No it isn't. He got offers from every mech manufacturer in the FedCom. He just read the Kallon offer first.
The person is not Hanse, Mel, Katrina, or Morgan. All those people are firmly in the friends camp, not "friendly". The Dragoons, Kell Hounds, Nondi, and a handful of other nobles should be friendly enough to supply a new mech.
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I wonder how long we'll have to wait this time? It was so long I was going to unfollow on SB.
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It will take as long as it will take, you can't hurry the muse.
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Yeah, he's had some difficulties he says. I can commiserate. It's been a couple months since I touched mine.
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Very happy to see an update!
Given that John is explicitly in the know, I'm expecting something with some Clantech under the hood. WD owes him a lot. I don't think they're likely to be hand-making Daishi/Dire Wolfs yet, otherwise it'd be that. Maybe a moderately disguised Marauder IIC?
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Third PPC is too hard to hide, given they hit at extended range people will add 2+2 pretty quick, I think.
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DHS, IS ER PPCs and a Gauss Rifle should fit just fine.
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Very happy to see an update!
Given that John is explicitly in the know, I'm expecting something with some Clantech under the hood. WD owes him a lot. I don't think they're likely to be hand-making Daishi/Dire Wolfs yet, otherwise it'd be that. Maybe a moderately disguised Marauder IIC?
John might go for something with an XL engine, Clan-tech DHS, and Clan-tech Targeting Computer. To me those would provide the best benefits, as they can be used to benefit anything. AMS might be a useful tech item if it can be used to protect Mechs near him and not just himself.
So an IS ERPPC or two, controlled by the Clan-tech Targeting Computer, with maybe a few LRM launchers to provide support in the form of Thunder, Smoke, or similar specialized munitions. Toss a few Medium Lasers on the torso in case someone wants to get close, plus they would serve as crit sinks to help protect the XL engine. Internal Structure and armor would be standard to make maintenance and repairs easier.
Other options might be putting in additional communications equipment so John's Mech can serve as a comms relay to allow John to be able to spot potential ambushes ahead of time (similar to how he spotted the LRM ambush).
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An XL engine is actually a downgrade on a Marauder II... :P
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Who's going to maintain all that Clantech in the field, when no-one (outside the inner circle) knows the Clans even exist?
While emotionally I'm still Team Nightstar, the MAD II makes considerable sense.
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Hello,
Welcome back. And thank you for announcing your comeback with a remarkable follow-up chapter.
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Chris
AWESOME new chapter, please continue when you can!
as for his mech, if it was from the 'Troll' queen Melissa (AKA MEL!) she wouldn't put him in something he could easily get killed in, OH NO! it would have to be able to take massive damage! On the extreme 'defensive' concept to be cruel it would be an Awesome or worse Charger...
MEL is many things but she is not cruel to her subjects let alone her friends! So we keep hearing Nightsky or Marauder II, and of course clan tech, to paraphrase Damon Killian from Running Man "hard times make for hard choices and this Mech is a hard @ss" the Berserker and as Mr. Smith is wont to engage in melee "at extremely close range" :) he may as well have a mech that can achieve it without the whole ram enemy mech, breach fusion engine, eject, coma chain of events. Plus it's well armored, it does have a decent medium to longish range energy battery (2x LPLs and one ER PPC), he can run away a bit faster with MASC (or use it to plus up his melee damage), and to keep him alive even better it has a AMS and ECM suite! That and it's 'distracting' (a useful quirk). So Melissa being the evil Super Genius Troll Queen (who is actually GOOD!) she would present John with her best Nobel level sales job on the Charger and then when John is about to buy it out of guilt, charisma and shear goddess level trolling, she proceeds to 'pretend' to offer him a choice she shows him the Awesome and once he's goes for the 'better' mech, Mel then very understatedly presents him the true mech the Berserker and Mel being MEL she could tell him all three are his, so he best not have the 'best' one shot out from under him as the 'others' are the only other Mechs he will be getting!
Thank you for your time!
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Hmm. No. Give him an Urbie. ;D
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A Banshee
Not a 3S, but a upgraded normal model to maintain the speed
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As the John Smith himself said, it's either Rifleman or Jagermech
Doug Glendover encapsulating my feelings on Jagermech
(https://i.imgur.com/K430ity.jpg)
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:toofunny:
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Hello,
Either it's a modified Rifleman (Was there an 80 ton version?) or Jagermech or another design has been put back into production. Not enough time to produce an entirely new design.
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From Helm, then?
I guess it's possible, after all. A Devastator was found there, right? That would help explain sending him to work with the Dragoons since they have techs that can work on it.
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I've started re-reading from the beginning to try to remember... 8)
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Well, while this chapter was nice to see it's definately more an interstitial chapter moving from place to place. And not even that far-goodness gracious, we skipped over all the ceremonies and funerals, to get onto a dropship bound for Northwind. Wonder what Melissa's supposed to do there-kiss some babies, wave to the crowds, watch some Highlander Games? Do Northwind and Skye have any mutual Scottish feelings, or are they mortal enemies, like Scotts and Other Scotts?
And everyone who's fixated on the Rifleman or Jaegermech are clearly wrong. Just...no, guys, the text is very clear that's not it.
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Devastator confirmed on page one of the thread... ^-^
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Devastator confirmed on page one of the thread... ^-^
Devastator also remarked upon as being one of the one-off designs that NAIS took custody of for research and development purposes. It was probably broken up into pieces and moved offsite for safety before the attack.
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Ah, haven't gotten that far yet.. thanks! :thumbsup:
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Wonderful chapter! Thanks for sharing Chris!
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:clap: :clap: :clap:
Thunderous Applause!
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Dang it, this is gonna bother me until we know, but it occurred to me; there were four of those Royal Marauders. What if Katrina Steiner decides to send an identical one out to him? Not enough for blowing his up?
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To note a couple of things - Smiths new Mech will NOT be a Clan Mech or contain any Clan tech. The Clans are still classified darker than the heart of a ComStar Primus and the Goons have not had a chance to go pickup their warships yet (it is on their to do list as soon as the war is over though).
And no it won’t be another Mad-FC-X. The other three are with operational test and evaluation companies in some RCTs (specialist units doing combat field tests of prototypes and the like including a significant amount of Lostech and prototypes like bugmechs with rocket pods in the Light Guards) and it would be highly impractical to ship one all the way back just for Smith.
I will give one clue; it is a factory fresh build, not a Helm cache Mech.
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You have been sorely missed. Glad to have you back.
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So if it's a Factory fresh build, it could be Marauder II or Atlas for slow speed. Or Zues, Battlemaster or Bansheee for the speed.
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>SQUEE<
I mean, thanks, Chris.
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welll do they have that old rim worlds underwater factroy up? if so, then maybe a Rampage. yep, i just went there. >:D >:D
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I reckon they are still searching the ocean floor for it and when they find it, it will take some time to get it running.
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New build really says Mararuder II to me... 8)
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New build really says Mararuder II to me... 8)
You know, from a certain point of view that technically counts as a Clan Mech :P
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You know, from a certain point of view that technically counts as a Clan Mech :P
I´m still holding out hope that he´ll be trolled with a Locust or UrbanMech first. Or something similar.
For the actual Mech, considering the emphasis on "factory fresh", I´m leaning towards one of the designs that were canonically (re-)introduced around 3050, which obvious could show up earlier here - like the Axman, Cestus or Devastator. Or possibly the Nightstar, as mentioned by others already.
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So if it's a Factory fresh build, it could be Marauder II or Atlas for slow speed. Or Zues, Battlemaster or Bansheee for the speed.
Yeah ran a Banshee thru MechFactory, just going to 12 double sinks, dropping the AC for a second PPC. Add 3 mediums and swap the small for a flamer add the rest to armor, leaves with a 4/6 95 tonner, 17.5 tons of ammo, 2 ppcs 3 mediums and the flamer in the head as he is a bit of a fire-breathing Davion fan boy 😀
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Yeah ran a Banshee thru MechFactory, just going to 12 double sinks, dropping the AC for a second PPC. Add 3 mediums and swap the small for a flamer add the rest to armor, leaves with a 4/6 95 tonner, 17.5 tons of ammo, 2 ppcs 3 mediums and the flamer in the head as he is a bit of a fire-breathing Davion fan boy 😀
A bog standard BNC-3E Banshee would be another good choice for trolling our protagonist.
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Yep
That's the base model I fiddled with
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Chris did give us a TRO for some of the FedCom updates & mods to the Helm 'mechs
Banshee BNC-X-FC
Mass: 95 tons
Tech Base: Inner Sphere
Chassis Config: Biped
Rules Level: Advanced Rules
Era: Clan Invasion
Tech Rating/Era Availability: E/X-X-E-A
Production Year: 3027
Cost: 20,432,490 C-Bills
Battle Value: 2,200
Chassis: Star League XT Standard
Power Plant: Pitban 285 Fusion XL Engine
Walking Speed: 43.4 km/h (TSM)
Maximum Speed: 66.0 km/h (TSM)
Jump Jets: None
Jump Capacity: 0 meters
Armor: Durallex Heavy Special Standard Armor
Armament:
1 Gauss Rifle
2 PPCs
1 LB 10-X AC
4 Medium Pulse Lasers
Manufacturer: Defiance Advanced Projects
Primary Factory: Classified
Communications System: Dalban Comline
Targeting and Tracking System: Dalban HiRez-B
================================================================================
Equipment Type Rating Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Internal Structure: Standard 145 points 9.50
Engine: XL Fusion Engine 285 8.50
Walking MP: 3(4)
Running MP: 5(6)
Jumping MP: 0
Heat Sinks: Double Heat Sink 10(20) 0.00
Gyro: Standard 3.00
Cockpit: Standard 3.00
Actuators: L: SH+UA+LA+H R: SH+UA+LA+H
Armor: Standard Armor AV - 288 18.00
Internal Armor
Structure Factor
Head 3 9
Center Torso 30 47
Center Torso (rear) 12
L/R Torso 20 30
L/R Torso (rear) 10
L/R Arm 16 31
L/R Leg 20 39
================================================================================
Equipment Location Heat Critical Mass
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gauss Rifle RA 1 7 15.00
Medium Pulse Laser RA 4 1 2.00
PPC LA 10 3 7.00
3 Medium Pulse Lasers LA 12 3 6.00
LB 10-X AC RT 2 6 11.00
PPC LT 10 3 7.00
@LB 10-X (Cluster) (20) RT - 2 2.00
@Gauss Rifle (24) LT - 3 3.00
Free Critical Slots: 13
BattleForce Statistics
MV S (+0) M (+2) L (+4) E (+6) Wt. Ov Armor: 10 Points: 22
3 4 4 3 0 4 3 Structure: 4
Special Abilities: SRCH, ES, SEAL, SOA, FLK 0/0/0
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Using a Gauss Rifle to heat tune just seems... wrong... ::)
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They are building Awesome now again. So they can give him one to keep him from running into the first fight he can see. That or the Nightstar since it would be an upgrade to the Maurader line in the first place.
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A few people have mentioned Urbies.
Smith seems to tend to flashbulb mechs with a mostly energy loadout.
The 'Mech is coming from the Wolf Dragoons.
Trolling may be involved.
(https://i.ibb.co/BjdrB4v/imp-3050u.png)
It is one step slower than Sovereign, and the base model (4E) has the exact same weapons loadout plus 2 pulse lasers and an LRM-15. It's got about one ton less armor than an Atlas.
In more seriousness, it'll probably be a Marauder II or some variant of Marauder because it's iconic and cool.
The other WD mechs in the heavy/assault range (Gallowglass, War Dog, Shogun, Highlander IIC) don't fit.
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Using a Gauss Rifle to heat tune just seems... wrong... ::)
But very Chris.
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Here's my sealed envelope, based on what we've seen "on screen" so far.
Smith has strong opinions about ammo bombs. Sovereign was built to be an energy boat specifically because of his feelings on the subject. A replacement ride will take this into account if our anonymous donor is being kind.
The Fox said that the donor in question is a friendly but not a friend. To my mind, that means one of two people with whom Smith has interacted but not necessarily made friends with... particularly because they don't have the full story behind his out-of-context knowledge. That's everyone's favorite interstellar lupines, Jaime Wolf and Natasha Kerensky.
Of the two, we have little evidence that Jaime is equipped with a sense of humor. He's just not the trollish sort. La Kerensky, on the other hand, has a sense of humor... just not a very soft-edged or well-adapted one. She also has a rather low opinion of Smith's skills as a MechWarrior, having met him before he had the benefit of private courses at the Morgan Davion School for Wayward Gentlemen.
Based on this, I expect Tasha to troll Smith with an all-energy design suited to his status as a novice - an exceptionally lucky novice, but a novice. A superannuated sibkid, to her way of thinking. So the data packet waiting for him at his and Mel's first diplomatic stop will be for...
... a Chameleon.
I agree with others' analysis that points to a Marauder II as the actual replacement, but Tasha (and Mel) will let him moan over the training mech for a while before they relent.
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It has to be a factory build. And I don't know why people are trying to bring Mel into this in her current state and distress over what she "did" to John she would not be trolling him at all and wouldn't be involved in the gift since again she is strickly in the friends' department. With the Helm and New Dallas cores fully unlocked from the start means that the entire Maurader line is now available instead of finding them years down the line. That means the Dragon Fire, Maelstrom, and Nightstar are mechs that are on the table.
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It will take time to get them in production though. Right now the option for friendly donor is to buy something that is in production in 3029 and due to crawl-walk-run policy it's highly unlikely any new mechs entered production between the Helm excursion and now. Marauder is produced on Quentin, Kathil and Carlisle, so it would be possible for the benefactor to purchase one and perhaps upgrade it with whatever advanced tech they have available.
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It will take time to get them in production though. Right now the option for friendly donor is to buy something that is in production in 3029 and due to crawl-walk-run policy it's highly unlikely any new mechs entered production between the Helm excursion and now. Marauder is produced on Quentin, Kathil and Carlisle, so it would be possible for the benefactor to purchase one and perhaps upgrade it with whatever advanced tech they have available.
It has been 4 years that is more than enough time to get production started. Because again unlike canon the cores were completely open from the start and aside from the ECM equipment everything else is easier to create.
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Cheers, nice to have you back Chris, was an excellent read! :)
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Nope- Natashsa will send him the first Timberwolf off the production line on Outreach.
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That's what, 10 or 15 years in the future?
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Hand production?
So I went to Sarna and all the main Madcat variants use missiles. But the Bounty Hunter variant looks about right!
The first custom configuration used by the infamous Bounty Hunter of the time of the initial Clan Invasion, it mounted a Large Pulse Laser and a Medium Pulse Laser in each arm. It also had a Medium Pulse Laser in both the left and right torso with a Clan Light TAG in the center torso. A Light Active Probe, ECM suite, and a Targeting Computer provided stealth and increased accuracy.
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Rampage???
Or a heavily modified, factory fresh Marauder, since that factory is on the way.
Could also be a Nightstar, since they only needed the folks with the needed knowledge, to get that last factory plant, running again.
And that's not the only couple of mech factories in between New Avalon & Tharkad.
There are also a few LC ones, up in the running.
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I am still going with the BRZ-C3 command Berserker. Energy based, huge hatchet damage and he has a COMMAND mech with C3. Also when the computer starts up to 'honor' the Steiner side of FedCom it plays https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1Th2hHU7o4 (SABATON!)
Oh and maybe Team Banzai could cover some of the Swedish Metal bands songs of warriors and heroes! Thank you!
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The Marauder II is also in production... 8)
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...has it occurred to anyone we can argue and fuss until Chris deliberately goes out of his way to surprise us with a Commando or Wolfhound, or something?
Maybe it's just because I'm evil. :thumbsup:
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Just thought that they might give him a mech that has a full head ejection system. Like the wolfhound or Hatchetman. So that he will not be so injured If he ever rejects again.
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If the mec h comes from Lyrans, i,expect the 'hundred ton scout Mech' meme to,give him something bigger than that.
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Wasn't there some sort of walking dropship around at this time or was that later ....
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That was a fanfiction piece. Not really relevant, sorry.
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I wish that Bolo story and Smith would meet...
TT
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Well he did give us the ortillery from Centurion... he can't give us all our favorite fictions mashed together.
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Thank you
I had just finished rereading the whole story again as a Chris tmas present. Hoping for another episode.
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Alright off the mech topic, but when 'Victor' comes into the universe how is John going to prevent him from listening to his 'genetic' Davion demanding he be at the forefront of EVERY Battle? Especially after doing what he did with Sovereign? I mean he maybe able to guide the child toward more of a 'Hanse' approach rather then 'Victor's' default mode of 'Ian' but after what Lt. Smith did at NAIS he may of shot his bolt in his ability to shape the young Steiner-Davion and from the OTL we know Melissa wasn't able to divert 'Victor's' river let alone dam it. Just interested in what happens after the fourth war with the 'family'! Thank you.
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The character of any child is a mixture of "nature and nurture." First, it's very unlikely that the exact same genetic mixture is going to occur - well butterflied. And the nurture can be managed to include the need to work together, not grandstand, and to not be Victor.
In this timeline, I'd expect the first child to be called Ian if male, Katrina if female.
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IIRC, Melissa's pregnancy is several months earlier than canon.
I would expect Hanse and Melissa to intentionally pick other names than canon to ensure they don't fall into the trap of confusing their actual children with the 'fictional' ones.
And it's entirely possible one of the sons will be called John - it's been used by the Davions before.
I now have the amusing idea of a short-lived cartoon show (perhaps made by Donegal Broadcasting) based on the politics of the 3050s and 3060s, somewhat disguised Clans invading, the Federated Commonwealth falling apart, and being used as an illustration for the Steiner-Davion children of 'what not to do'.
Wouldn't Nikolai Malthus froth if his 'batchall' was met with derision for being clearly taken from a children's show?
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IIRC, Melissa's pregnancy is several months earlier than canon.
I would expect Hanse and Melissa to intentionally pick other names than canon to ensure they don't fall into the trap of confusing their actual children with the 'fictional' ones.
And it's entirely possible one of the sons will be called John - it's been used by the Davions before.
I now have the amusing idea of a short-lived cartoon show (perhaps made by Donegal Broadcasting) based on the politics of the 3050s and 3060s, somewhat disguised Clans invading, the Federated Commonwealth falling apart, and being used as an illustration for the Steiner-Davion children of 'what not to do'.
Wouldn't Nikolai Malthus froth if his 'batchall' was met with derision for being clearly taken from a children's show?
They pick Victoria if it's a girl.
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Alright off the mech topic, but when 'Victor' comes into the universe how is John going to prevent him from listening to his 'genetic' Davion demanding he be at the forefront of EVERY Battle? Especially after doing what he did with Sovereign? I mean he maybe able to guide the child toward more of a 'Hanse' approach rather then 'Victor's' default mode of 'Ian' but after what Lt. Smith did at NAIS he may of shot his bolt in his ability to shape the young Steiner-Davion and from the OTL we know Melissa wasn't able to divert 'Victor's' river let alone dam it. Just interested in what happens after the fourth war with the 'family'! Thank you.
Hanse will likely show Victor the battle, and ask Victor what would have happened to the FedCom if John had not been there. Show Victor that immediately rushing off to fight the enemy means he is not helping the others under his command to fight better and is actually exposing a weakness to the enemy. Victor will have his own Mech, but if Victor has to climb into the Mech it is because there is nothing further he can do to help as a commander, and the risk to the whole force is worth exposing himself.
Which means Victor might have a 2-cockpit setup in the Mech via Command Console (https://www.sarna.net/wiki/Cockpit_Command_Console) so he can still help the rest of the forces while in his Mech. Whoever is paired with Victor will be among the deadliest Mechwarriors Hanse can find among his people.
If Victor asks John about copying what John did at the NAIS fight, I am sure John will have a much more colorful language to describe what Hanse did and why John had to do what he did.
I now have the amusing idea of a short-lived cartoon show (perhaps made by Donegal Broadcasting) based on the politics of the 3050s and 3060s, somewhat disguised Clans invading, the Federated Commonwealth falling apart, and being used as an illustration for the Steiner-Davion children of 'what not to do'.
Wouldn't Nikolai Malthus froth if his 'batchall' was met with derision for being clearly taken from a children's show?
Froth, but then you might have someone else ask 'what cartoon show', and the locals send a copy of the series so far. Followed by a lot of Clan personnel wondering how this show managed to get the terms exactly correct in use, show exact matches to the Mechs the Clans use (and have not revealed to the Inner Sphere), etc. The Clans will be annoyed that the Inner Sphere might have gotten the information from a children's show, but they will also ask where did the children's show get the information from?
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And given the competence of their intelligence "service", even more hilarity will ensue... ::)
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That was a fanfiction piece. Not really relevant, sorry.
Thanks. I was not not sure anyway.
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You know, the Dragon fire and Berserker are both 3050-ish mechs. I'm going out on a limb and saying an Atlas or Zeus, or maybe Kerensky's Orion. Katrina or the Kells would be 'Friendish'.
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Star League Thug-11E?
TT
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Star League Black Knight or an updated Thunderbolt.
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Because as it just so happens, you already have a new BattleMech. Bought and paid for and on the way from a friend of yours. <...>
“Well, friendly perhaps” he shrugged, smirking a little.
So who knows Smith but isn't a friend?
Cross off the main line Steiner's. Allesandro- no resources. Fred- no reason to. Aldo? No his style.
Cross off the Davion's.
Cross of the Kell Hounds.
Sakhara can't resource anything right now.
That leaves the Dragoons. Jaime or Natasha is probably the donor.
My money is on one of the Dragoon's proprietary 'Mechs. And right now the Marauder II is only in the Dragoon's or Barber's.
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Imp
Marauder II
Falcon
Stalker
TT
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Marauder II for sure. And I will bet that it's a Clantech version of the MAD-5A with all the bells and whistles-two Clan ER PPCs, a Clan LPL, Clan MPLs out the wazoo, lots of DHS and jump jets. An ultimate zombie mech with great mobility and some hard hitting ranged firepower.
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Marauder II C or a Bounty Hunter clone...
TT
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Marauder II for sure. And I will bet that it's a Clantech version of the MAD-5A with all the bells and whistles-two Clan ER PPCs, a Clan LPL, Clan MPLs out the wazoo, lots of DHS and jump jets. An ultimate zombie mech with great mobility and some hard hitting ranged firepower.
Except as has already been said before there is no clan tech and it is a fresh factory build not a refit. The Dragoons have had no time to build a new line for another design. At best it would be the SL standard version of the MAD II if it is the Dragoons.
Also only Mel and Katrina of the Steiners would be considered friends not any of the others; same with the Davions only Hanse, Morgan, and Yvonne are his friends none of the others. The Kell Hounds wouldn't really consider him a friend either Patrick is the only one that might but he simply doesn't have enough interaction with John and aside from his defense during Christmas none of his other interactions with the Kells have been really nice since he spent most of that time calling them out on their BS and stupid choices.
For people there is still the other March Lord, and from the Lyran side several big names he has gotten on the radar of and helped either directly or indirectly. The Dragoons are not the only option. They are a highly likely option but not the clear or only choice.
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I'd be unsuprised to find out that Kerlin Ward slipped the Dragoons some full up clan spec equipment either when they first left, or on one of their resupply runs. So an upgraded Imp or Royal mech could well be something they could pull out of a supply cache. Or enough loose weapons & equipment to upgrade an existing design like the aforementioned Marauder II.
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Except again there is no clan tech mechs or equipment that will be used. Not only because the OP already said that it was a new factory build and not a refit, but also because there is no way to maintain clan tech without having to rely on the Dragoons and not being able to replace any damaged or destroyed parts because there is no supply for. There is a reason it was established that clan tech wouldn't be a thing for this. Also how the hell will the tech be explained exactly because nothing that will point to the existence of the clans will be allowed to get out and their tech is the biggest clue.
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Agreed... I think Chris was pretty clear that there would no clan tech involved.
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Agreed... I think Chris was pretty clear that there would no clan tech involved.
And that it would be factory-fresh. But, hey, why listen to the Word of God when that interferes into your speculation?
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Didn't see the disclaimer on Clantech. My mistake! In that case, I imagine a MAD-4A that has been upgraded with DHS and some more MLs and a LPL taking the place of the LL, along with ER PPCs. Lets John keep the "feel" of his old mech, all-energy weapons, some jump ability and 19+ tons of armor to put between himself and the enemy.
Granted, it could also be "just" a factory-fresh MAD-4A, but I get the feeling that Hanse and Katrina will at least get him to take some upgrades for the sake of combat efficiency.
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We have been told there's no clantech, but I don't think it's been confirmed that no SLDF tech has made it back into production. The Dragoons didn't know what the Inner Sphere looked like and may have brought tooling for spare parts for advanced tech to refit their machines if the Inner Sphere turned out to have retained Star League technology. If said tooling was cached when they found they didn't need it it may have been used to give Blackwell a head start on advanced tech.
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Well there is still also all the stuff retrieved from Helm. I imagine they still have a few DHS and ER PPCs lying around as combat replacements for the Royals they do have assigned to units, so I imagine that if it was a Marauder II that gets assigned to John, it could well be upgraded to reflect that. We never really got a proper refit of the MAD-4A either in canon-all the variants have Gauss Rifles, Autocannons, or weird combos of heavy/light PPCs and/or X-Pulse lasers. No simple refit of the MAD-4A was ever made.
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Hmm.
Donated by the Wolves, upgraded by Katrina? I guess it's possible.
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*snip*
No simple refit of the MAD-4A was ever made.
That's because it really wasn't broken, and you run out of crits for DHS before getting enough to ER the PPCs and Large Laser.
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Well with all the Marauder comments you may wish to view it's history by 'Tex' from the BPL
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hv0HjfuMt-c
The legion does great 'history' and highly amusing! Thank you.
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The intro of that video alone (the first two minutes) is worth watching all by itself! 8)
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Chris-not sure how much more LosTech that John is capable of remembering, but there's a few more GOOD spots that still haven't been picked clean yet as of the timeline in the story.
https://www.sarna.net/wiki/Star_League_Defense_Force
Antares would be a great place to start-in Lyran space already, within two jumps of Sudeten, and in the Jade Falcon sourcebook it mentions that there was a massive replenishment/resupply base hidden on the planet with a small town called Alba built over it. It was supposedly crucial enough that during REVIVAL, the Falcons used the ENTIRETY of Delta (Gyrfalcon) Galaxy led by saKhan Samantha Clees to take it. IDK what might be under there, but my guess is enough to make Helm look like a tool shed by comparison.
Then there is Epsilon Eridani in Capellan space, which has a Colossus-class dropship and other assorted items hidden there as well
Finally, one that is literally right under the noses of the Sandovals, there is the Robinson Brian Cache/Castle hidden under the town of Purki, detailed in Jihad Hot Spots: 3070 which was attacked by WoB during the Jihad. Seemed to hold some REALLY nasty stuff given that the Precentor in command of the Comstar 3rd Army told the onsite commander to self-destruct the facility rather than leave anything for the Blakists.
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Chris-not sure how much more LosTech that John is capable of remembering, but there's a few more GOOD spots that still haven't been picked clean yet as of the timeline in the story.
https://www.sarna.net/wiki/Star_League_Defense_Force
Antares would be a great place to start-in Lyran space already, within two jumps of Sudeten, and in the Jade Falcon sourcebook it mentions that there was a massive replenishment/resupply base hidden on the planet with a small town called Alba built over it. It was supposedly crucial enough that during REVIVAL, the Falcons used the ENTIRETY of Delta (Gyrfalcon) Galaxy led by saKhan Samantha Clees to take it. IDK what might be under there, but my guess is enough to make Helm look like a tool shed by comparison.
Then there is Epsilon Eridani in Capellan space, which has a Colossus-class dropship and other assorted items hidden there as well
Finally, one that is literally right under the noses of the Sandovals, there is the Robinson Brian Cache/Castle hidden under the town of Purki, detailed in Jihad Hot Spots: 3070 which was attacked by WoB during the Jihad. Seemed to hold some REALLY nasty stuff given that the Precentor in command of the Comstar 3rd Army told the onsite commander to self-destruct the facility rather than leave anything for the Blakists.
This reminds me, if I remember correctly the GDL found a few Nighthawk MkXXI PA suits on Karbala I believe when they were retreating from the Falcons in the early waves of Revival.
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Or Niops...
Smith could mention it in passing and they'll probably go " Huh? What do they have and why? " and shrug...
TT
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Or Niops...
Smith could mention it in passing and they'll probably go " Huh? What do they have and why? " and shrug...
TT
He already did tell them about it. But aside from them no other place is worth it. They already have the cores there is no use to go looking for more stuff.
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But... The shinies!
Seriously, checking the Robinson one just to eliminate something dangerous might be worth it.
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But... The shinies!
Seriously, checking the Robinson one just to eliminate something dangerous might be worth it.
yup. One may not need the resource itself but denying it to enemies or even allies is in and of itself strategically important.
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He already did tell them about it. But aside from them no other place is worth it. They already have the cores there is no use to go looking for more stuff.
You can never have too much equipment, and even if you don't need more, you would still want to deny it to other players of the great game (including your own feudal underlings :) accidentally stumbling upon it). In addition, you can't know from a short mention in the JFSB or JHS3070 if the caches contain anything that might give e.g. the NAIS additional insights or accelerate some developments.
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Or centuries of Astro data...
Useless but you could Trial the Clans via Scientific adventures...
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He already did tell them about it. But aside from them no other place is worth it. They already have the cores there is no use to go looking for more stuff.
Well, with Antares and Robinson you're not "looking" for more stuff like you did with Helm (dropping RCTs onto a foreign world to grab stuff), you're exploring worlds that you already hold and have firm descriptions of where to look. Antares held enough SL-era supplies and equipment to make it worth the Jade Falcons dropping an entire Galaxy on it to secure, and Robinson was similarly treated by the Comguards. Like the folks here said-grab it, analyze it, deny it from your enemies.
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come to think however, based on how he was debriefed/interrogated, they already likely pried out the other locations if the SI "knew" them.
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come to think however, based on how he was debriefed/interrogated, they already likely pried out the other locations if the SI "knew" them.
You never know though-remember how John suddenly remembered the old RWR factory on Kwangjong-ni when Simon Johnston and Quintus Allard were just talking about it? Plenty of opportunities for him to get his memories jogged in different ways.
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Doesn't even have to be that. Create a 'fake message' to point them in the right direction, then flood the planet with observers, search parties - and Smith.
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You never know though-remember how John suddenly remembered the old RWR factory on Kwangjong-ni when Simon Johnston and Quintus Allard were just talking about it? Plenty of opportunities for him to get his memories jogged in different ways.
I suppose that's possible, but we know even from the settings own canon and fluff that they have advanced interrogation techniques. I presume that some of the more ally friendly voluntary ones would have been used to help John recover his own memories. So having one more stray memory surface seems believable. Having another one seems less so.
If the OP were going to go with the route of hitting up more lostech resources, I would recommend it be that he remembered it during his debrief and now they have the time and resources to act on it.
I still think that John should recommend obliterating Comstar by using the black box tech and spamming the inner sphere with them. Allow everyone to use them for non military purposes (similar to how the US got the world to implement the internet and then GPS). This would cut the economic balls of of Comstar. All everyone to use them for military purposes with the understanding that the FC will cut off any use of military purposes inside anyone's territory. Comstar is the largest threat to anything that exists, especially since John circumvented the Clans primary strength, the tech base by boosting the IS tech base and exposed the clans primary weakness which is their resource limiting combat op bidding.
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I suppose that's possible, but we know even from the settings own canon and fluff that they have advanced interrogation techniques. I presume that some of the more ally friendly voluntary ones would have been used to help John recover his own memories. So having one more stray memory surface seems believable. Having another one seems less so.
If the OP were going to go with the route of hitting up more lostech resources, I would recommend it be that he remembered it during his debrief and now they have the time and resources to act on it.
I still think that John should recommend obliterating Comstar by using the black box tech and spamming the inner sphere with them. Allow everyone to use them for non military purposes (similar to how the US got the world to implement the internet and then GPS). This would cut the economic balls of of Comstar. All everyone to use them for military purposes with the understanding that the FC will cut off any use of military purposes inside anyone's territory. Comstar is the largest threat to anything that exists, especially since John circumvented the Clans primary strength, the tech base by boosting the IS tech base and exposed the clans primary weakness which is their resource limiting combat op bidding.
Not sure the whole give away the Black Box Faxes is all that bright. One Comstar knows immediately what you are doing and still has "Planets" full of mechs. supporting equipment as well as the largest warship fleet in the sphere. Two once the tech is available to even a multi-headed dragon and possibly a rump Cappellan state (not likely but possible) how are you going to stop them from modifying them to their tactical advantage? or even worse reading your Top Secret communications. You can encode, you can encrypt but now everyone knows your freqs and can at worst use traffic analysis to at worst guess your intentions.
Better to quietly build up your 'courier' Jumpships (with Faxes), Us the Black Boxes within the FEDCOM hidden in deep space, secure worlds or again on your 'courier' jumpships. All the while creating, modifying and reverse-engineering HPG tech and when ready (along with your military and industrial built up) you quietly deploy them on worlds with out HPG stations and use them a as a rapid communication network and to test out the operations of an HPG network. C* will find out, but by then you will have the industrial base to build, maintain and utilize your own network and if C* wants to start something you can over-run their stations and use the replacement parts you are already making to as well as your trained techs to take over and run C*'s former network in the Federated Commonwealth.
You now have a robust and multilayer FTL communications network, this is 'Apocalypse' proofed, agile and under your control. Rather then a fax network that cuts against you and has a single slow FTL component that has numerous flaws that can be exploited especially if you provide the core machine to 'everyone'. Thank you.
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Not sure the whole give away the Black Box Faxes is all that bright. One Comstar knows immediately what you are doing and still has "Planets" full of mechs. supporting equipment as well as the largest warship fleet in the sphere. Two once the tech is available to even a multi-headed dragon and possibly a rump Cappellan state (not likely but possible) how are you going to stop them from modifying them to their tactical advantage? or even worse reading your Top Secret communications. You can encode, you can encrypt but now everyone knows your freqs and can at worst use traffic analysis to at worst guess your intentions.
Comstar can have all the planet fulls of mechs they want, cut off the wealth from their monopoly on interstellar communications and it dry itself up. Remember despite the fact that Battletech "should" be a post scarcity society they are not due to setting rules one. So while Comstar should not need any income from the interstellar communications monopoly, due to the setting of the structure, they do.
Better to quietly build up your 'courier' Jumpships (with Faxes), Us the Black Boxes within the FEDCOM hidden in deep space, secure worlds or again on your 'courier' jumpships. All the while creating, modifying and reverse-engineering HPG tech and when ready (along with your military and industrial built up) you quietly deploy them on worlds with out HPG stations and use them a as a rapid communication network and to test out the operations of an HPG network. C* will find out, but by then you will have the industrial base to build, maintain and utilize your own network and if C* wants to start something you can over-run their stations and use the replacement parts you are already making to as well as your trained techs to take over and run C*'s former network in the Federated Commonwealth.
You now have a robust and multilayer FTL communications network, this is 'Apocalypse' proofed, agile and under your control. Rather then a fax network that cuts against you and has a single slow FTL component that has numerous flaws that can be exploited especially if you provide the core machine to 'everyone'. Thank you.
Despite seemingly giving away internet tech and gps, the US is far stronger economically, politically and militarily from having done so.
Comstar can still destroy everything. And that won't change until their wealth spigot is turned off.
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All the while creating, modifying and reverse-engineering HPG tech and when ready (along with your military and industrial built up) you quietly deploy them on worlds with out HPG stations and use them a as a rapid communication network and to test out the operations of an HPG network. C* will find out, but by then you will have the industrial base to build, maintain and utilize your own network and if C* wants to start something you can over-run their stations and use the replacement parts you are already making to as well as your trained techs to take over and run C*'s former network in the Federated Commonwealth.
You now have a robust and multilayer FTL communications network, this is 'Apocalypse' proofed, agile and under your control. Rather then a fax network that cuts against you and has a single slow FTL component that has numerous flaws that can be exploited especially if you provide the core machine to 'everyone'. Thank you.
I agree with you.
First of all they need to understand HPG technology down to the least screw. And they will need lots of replacement parts. Really, really lots of.
Reason:
In the book about Wolf Dragoons there is this scene where the Seventh Commando unit breaks into the Comstar compound and the tech looks at the mainboard where chips have been added and not everything makes sense.
It is implied that Comstar seems to have nearly forgotten how to care for HPGs.
They look like children who know how to operate the machinery but dont understand it (yes, I know, but they seem to be only a few steps ahead of the ignorance of the rest of the IS.).
So my conclusion is, that every HPG looks like the HPG the Dragoons examined and used or worse.
But there are another reasons: JIHAD and BLACKOUT
In the last Jihad book it is said by Devon Cortland that the escape routes to the Hidden 5 are embedded into the HPG firmware and therefore they should crack this code.
And to Blackout: It seems that someone sent a message to the HPGs and then these machines shut down. So, if the FC collects the best computer programmers they can find to write an entire new operating system for their own HPGs then they can not be corrupted. And if any software update must be done in person - yes, it is a pain in the posterior - but thats how to stop someone from shutting down your communication. And besides (REAL WORLD): Where there any viruses for the VC-64 or AMIGA? They all had ROM and not Harddisk based OS. If you had a virus, just switch off the computer and as soon as there is no power you got rid of the virus. Because you cant change whats stored in the ROM.
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I agree with you.
First of all they need to understand HPG technology down to the least screw. And they will need lots of replacement parts. Really, really lots of.
Reason:
In the book about Wolf Dragoons there is this scene where the Seventh Commando unit breaks into the Comstar compound and the tech looks at the mainboard where chips have been added and not everything makes sense.
It is implied that Comstar seems to have nearly forgotten how to care for HPGs.
They look like children who know how to operate the machinery but dont understand it (yes, I know, but they seem to be only a few steps ahead of the ignorance of the rest of the IS.).
So my conclusion is, that every HPG looks like the HPG the Dragoons examined and used or worse.
yeah if you go back and read through the first edition(s) of the game(s), the way you read the stuff about Comstar is that they know how to keep existing HPGs running even if they have to jury rig it and can assembled them from stockpiles of unreproducible parts. Though reading the setting its not so much that the science was lost but that the engineering and materials engineering were with all the destruction of the first two succession wars and the rampant pillaging thereafter until the Inner Sphere stabilized.
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Chris could have Smith reveal the location of Camelot Command, let slip before Adam Steiner finds it. Hell, having Adam get the full military strength of the Davion armed forces as backup with Smith leading the way could, idk, force Comstar out...
TT
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Chris could have Smith reveal the location of Camelot Command, let slip before Adam Steiner finds it. Hell, having Adam get the full military strength of the Davion armed forces as backup with Smith leading the way could, idk, force Comstar out...
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ComStar doesn't control Camelot Command. And Adam wouldn't be anything more than a child at this point and a non factor. It is also nothing more than it being abandoned and stripped. So it offers little to the FedCom.
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Chris could have Smith reveal the location of Camelot Command, let slip before Adam Steiner finds it. Hell, having Adam get the full military strength of the Davion armed forces as backup with Smith leading the way could, idk, force Comstar out...
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He most likely did, but all Smith would know is that it is somewhere in Dark Nebula, which is a needle in a huuge haystack. Not to mention that he pointed them to number of other secrets and the resources of both realms are finite, especially when it comes to a need to keep operations secret and the needs of preparations for 4th SW and the fighting the said war. Also, Adam Steiner is still a small child, he won't be in any kind of combat any time soon.
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I think that he cross-referenced this fic with another one that he was also intending to comment on.
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Camelot Command would worth finding since it would be a useful hidden Command Post and logistics center against the Invasion since nothing John has done will effect ComStar Explorer Corps operations as far as I can tell. Plus the bonus of finding the prototypes and blueprints of the War Dog before Snord's Irregulars and put into proper production.
That design always felt underutilized in canon, especially since the Irregulars turned it over to the Dragoons most likely violating their contract regarding salvage and LosTech.
If Camelot Command can found sometime while John is in the LC, though we don't know how long that will be yet, it would give the FedCom about 15 years or so to restore it and prepare the region for the onset of Operation Revival.
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I so lookforward to this thread being updated by the author. 8)I look forward to see who Smith is out snarked by.
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I so lookforward to this thread being updated by the author. 8)I look forward to see who Smith is out snarked by.
Eh, I don't care if he only updates twice a year. some of the best fan fiction I have ever read has lasted over 8 or 9 years and is still ongoing.
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Try, 'Deathworlders'. Completely written online, excellent. Humanity live on a 'Deathworld', a world inimical to the existence of life. That we live, we are monsters to the peaceful aliens just trying to abduct us and eat us...
And I expect the next scene to be Smith in a Warhammer as a decoy for Natasha while they attack New Samarkand (SP?) and the ISF headquarters, according to the bit he leaked at one point.
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Try, 'Deathworlders'. Completely written online, excellent. Humanity live on a 'Deathworld', a world inimical to the existence of life. That we live, we are monsters to the peaceful aliens just trying to abduct us and eat us...
And I expect the next scene to be Smith in a Warhammer as a decoy for Natasha while they attack New Samarkand (SP?) and the ISF headquarters, according to the bit he leaked at one point.
For Deathworlders, here is the link to the home page:
https://deathworlders.com/
And here is the link to chapter 1:
https://deathworlders.com/books/deathworlders/chapter-00-kevin-jenkins-experience/
As to Smith & Natasha, I fully expect the trip to New Samakand to be full of Natasha training Smith to be better, so "you can somewhat imitate my skills and not ruin my reputation". In gaming terms this might give him a specialization in piloting a Warhammer, rather than a full piloting/Gunnery upgrade. The trip back might have the Dragoons training Smith on other Mechs, which will give Smith the Piloting or Gunnery upgrade, or a specialization in using Heavy Mechs.
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A far as I understand, Natasha embarked on the trip to New Samarkand well before Genyosha reached New Avalon, so even if Smith was not going with Melissa it would be impossible for him to catch up with Natasha.
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I'm totally caught up with this SI story and I've been really enjoying it!
I think a new production Nightstar 9FC or a Nightstar similar in loadout to his blown-up Marauder would be a nice fit for Mr. Smith 8)
Crazy idea: I really think this would be a good way to get BattleTech to the big screen :D
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Supposedly, it's a unit currently in production, and 'friendly' people got it for him. Opinion on Spacebattles is split; it's too early for a MadCat and it isn't in production. Wolf's Dragoons might offer a Marauder II, the Steiners owe him a favour and he's moving toward Hesperus II.
So far, the only thing to go on is it's currently in production. Beyond that, it's a mystery.
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I really want it to be a Berserker maybe pieced together from the Helm cache and salvage from the battle of New Avalon, but with it's manufacture date of 3056, it has a chance approaching ZERO! Thanks.
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No problem. You should have read the debate on SB - its a little more raucous.
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Hello,
The FC has all of this technology available from Helm, both physical and informational. Not to mention all of the knowledge that SI Smith could impart. If there is a real need to develop an omnimech, is it necessary to develop a Timber Wolf clone? Just come up with a new design or at least use a current design such as the Centurion as a basis. Meanwhile it appears there is a drive to manufacture Star League miltech as soon a possible so the focus should remain on that. Having battlemechs with Star League technology within 5 or 6 years seem better than having a viable omnimech design within 10+ years for the intermediate future. After all the weight savings of 10 double heat sinks vs 20 standard right now can only be a game-changer.
As for other notions, vehicles and aerospace should follow hopefully as soon as possible. Warships should have their operational history examined in detail especially with what SI Smith is able to remember. It's up to the author of this storyline to determine where warships have their place.
Also, there should be more background on SI Smith. I may have mentioned this earlier, but any information from his life should be examined by FC analysts however esoteric or inane those turn out to be. Apparently his smart phone and what few books arrived with him already have set new directions for technology development. If he had some knowledge of miniature VTOL drones for example, one possible line of development could be LRM sized attack drones with a possible loitering capability. Of course a notion like this could take decades to develop properly if it is ever accepted, but the point being that with information gleaned from SI Smith's reality should not be dismissed lightly and should provide a flexible basis to encourage technological innovation beyond what the Star League or the Clans have come up with.
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Hello,
The FC has all of this technology available from Helm, both physical and informational. Not to mention all of the knowledge that SI Smith could impart. If there is a real need to develop an omnimech, is it necessary to develop a Timber Wolf clone? Just come up with a new design or at least use a current design such as the Centurion as a basis. Meanwhile it appears there is a drive to manufacture Star League miltech as soon a possible so the focus should remain on that. Having battlemechs with Star League technology within 5 or 6 years seem better than having a viable omnimech design within 10+ years for the intermediate future. After all the weight savings of 10 double heat sinks vs 20 standard right now can only be a game-changer.
The advantages of omnimechs are less in the mechs and more in the omni.
Think about electronics manufacturing in our real world. If one needs a graphics card for a PC, you literally have 300+ different manufacturers to source it. If one is manufacturing a graphics board, you have 50 to 100 sources for each of the electronic components and so on.
All of those mech components are now modular across all battlemechs, that includes power core design. All of those mech components that are not mech specific like computer displays or electronic wiring and so on are the same as is used in home building or making cars or space stations and so on.
The real world has already gone way ahead of the level of standardization used in Battletech, even with omnis. We have achieved insane levels of production and work efficiency because of it. That would be something else Smith can introduce to the FC.
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Yes, omnis are nice. And as has been repeatedly stated, Smith's new mech is a type that's already in production, so an omni it is not.
It's not likely to have much in the way of advanced tech, either. Might have a few tidbits but probably not much. And it'll probably be something that was easy for them to put into mass production if there is any.
Nightstar is very much a maybe. Another Marauder is more likely.
Something like a Black Knight they are unlikely to have been able to put together a production line for in the timeframe available. Same goes for the Maelstrom or Dragon Fire. Repairing damaged-and-unusable lines like the Cestus or Ostsol is not impossible, though.
An early Blackjack BJ-2 or BJ-3 is quite possible, although he's turned up his nose at a Rifleman or Jagermech.
A fire-support design like the Longbow or Archer doesn't seem like his style. This also excludes lighter versions like the Griffin, Valkyrie, or Dervish.
Enforcer or Wolverine might fit his brawler-like tactics.
Warhammer is possible.
My money's on a stock MAD-3R, though, with possibilities for a -3D or -3M.
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No problem. You should have read the debate on SB - its a little more raucous.
That's like saying water is slightly wet. ;D
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Anywhere other than here is "water" by that definition... ::)
And to be clear, I think that is nothing but a GOOD thing. This "walled garden" is well maintained, and I for one appreciate it! :thumbsup:
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Smith's 'Mech isn't coming from someone on New Avalon, because otherwise he'd be leaving with it. It also doesn't appear to be coming from someone in the LyrCom, otherwise it would be held there until he can meet up with it (And if him having a 'Mech to guard Melissa with is so important he'd be leaving with a loaner), it's not coming from a manufacturer, but rather from someone that Smith knows personally and is one OK terms with.
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Smith's 'Mech isn't coming from someone on New Avalon, because otherwise he'd be leaving with it. It also doesn't appear to be coming from someone in the LyrCom, otherwise it would be held there until he can meet up with it (And if him having a 'Mech to guard Melissa with is so important he'd be leaving with a loaner), it's not coming from a manufacturer, but rather from someone that Smith knows personally and is one OK terms with.
If it was from New Avalon and John being on OK terms with, the mech could come from a Sortek, Jackson or Yvonne Davion, the sleeper would be Morgan Hasek-Davion though all listed Smith would be more then 'OK' with. Though the Grandma of the AFFS giving him a Mech after her what son did to his mech would be amusing for her to have a Mech for John while her son 'cools' his spurs for a while... Thank you.
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For what its worth, this has been exhaustively hashed out already.
The basic decisions were along the lines of;
Highly desired.
Command unit.
Modified in some way with L2 technology. (Or, L2 tech added by somebody on top of it. Katrina or Mel were picked most often.)
Medium to Heavy, although a single Assault was brought up - a lot. An awful lot.
Readers are invited to speculate; have they ever.
FWIW, I initially thought, 'MADCAT! SEE, THE POWER OF THE FEDERATED-COMMONWEALTH!'. Now, I lean to Marauder II, after reading all the posts and realizing they were right about it being good (for its time). Although I realize that Katrina, Mel, Morgan, and Hanse are all out.
However, that leaves Sandoval, Wolf, ComStar(?), Kell, and a lot more who might have their own ideas about, 'the hero's mech'.
Now, I propose a strongly worded campaign to get Chris to post the next chapter and give us a different cliffhanger. All in favor?
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Now, I propose a strongly worded campaign to get Chris to post the next chapter and give us a different cliffhanger. All in favor?
He doesn't post often but when he does it's AWESOME, so let's allow him to post on his schedule. Maybe PM him for a hint if REALLY desperate, there have been so many stories that are good to great that get cut short by pressure from us fans. Nothing wrong with kudos and hoping to see more, but 'strongly worded campaigns...' Speculation until the post is part of the fun anyway. Thank you for your time.
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Patience is the only best working approach ... gut Ding will Weil Haben. ::)
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Incredibly well done SI FF.
Addictive. Funny. Wonderful.
Ik wel meer. Je veut encore. Please Sir, I want some more.
By my obsessive count, we are in month 5 of a 6 to 7 month wait... C'mon baby; Daddy needs a new chapter of Mr. Smith's can of whoopa$$!
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Considering school just started and I'm settling into the grind - yeah.
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Okay a little bit of a delay getting this chapter up.
Long story short, Russia decided to invade Ukraine and I've been a tad distracted. So much so it was only a month ago I realized to my great disquiet that I was almost treating it like it was some kind of entertainment or a war room what if, which is you know, pretty damn horrible and incredibly disrespectful to everyone who has died.
So, I decided to take a few steps back and focus back on some other projects (while you know, still supporting the good guys!) - and hey, fanfiction is always a good one! So lets get this back on the road.
This is a bit of a rush job I think and could be worked on, but I want to get some momentum and get things back on the road. There is also a lot of just taking stock of where we are. But lets get the road trip going.
Book 2 Chapter 1: Northwind I
It took eleven Jumpships to get us to Northwind over just under twelve hours after we reached the New Avalon Zenith point - and a part of me was still somewhat in awe of that fact. In less than half a day, we had travelled close to three hundred light years from New Avalon.
Three hundred light years … my mind still boggled at the number.
In theory, if we had a good enough radio-telescope, we could turn it back on New Avalon and perhaps pick up a broadcast from Richard Davion giving that brilliantly passive-aggressive speech he had directed at House Cameron at the end of the Second Hidden War; that was how far we had gone in such a short space of time…
But right now, we were getting much more … local … transmissions directed at us on much more current events.
Only a matter of hours after our ship's arrival at Northwinds Nadar point, the first civilian radio transmissions from Northwind had started to bounce off our ship. Which was impressive given that it took about an hour for radio transmissions to reach us from the planet and a sign of just how fast the media could move when you dropped a bombshell in their midst.
Like, oh, the news that Melissa ****** Steiner was inbound for a surprise visit to the planet. And not just her, but the future Archon-Prince of the Federated Commonwealth who was hitching a ride with her.
Within six hours, so much traffic was coming through that the ships electronic warfare suite had started to flag them as a denial of service attack against the communications array! It seemed that every media organisation and their dog on the planet were blasting requests for interviews, followed by a seemingly endless list of requests for Melissa to visit this or that charity or querying if she could swing by for a hastily rescheduled dedication ceremony for this or that building or construction. No matter how impossible it was for Melissa with a mere 4 day visit to be in more than a limited number of places across an entire planet, everyone was desperate for a piece of her.
I mean, I don’t think for example the ‘Upper Cambridge Dog Off-Leash Park’ really expected Melissa to swing by to dedicate the (half constructed) park - but they also clearly saw no harm in asking. And given that this was a once-in-century kind of visit? I couldn’t really blame them - and everyone else on the planet - for trying.
I could be (and was) highly annoyed at them for tying up a dozen people on this dropship (including me) filtering and sorting the requests ruthlessly enough to start to compile to a ‘short’ list for Melissa’s review and the latest iteration of her ever mutating Northwind schedule…
But I couldn’t blame them.
As I was increasingly understanding (my own views probably skewed greatly because of how casually I hung out around House Lords and other VIPs); a visit by someone of her stature was just not something that happened more then once in a generation or two.
And so everyone and their (literal) dog was rather desperate to get some tiny sliver of her time for themselves.
The authorities on Northwind had stepped in at that point to shut down the local media's access to the long-range communications links used to communicate with the Jump points and ships in transit to and from them. Firstly asking all the requests for her time to be directed to the Ducal castle (let THEIR staff deal with it) for consideration and also telling the local News Media who had been spamming interview requests that Melissa would be made available for at least one … if they could pick someone to do it.
Accordingly, the media had promptly switched from spamming Melissa’s inbound dropship in favour of starting vicious arguments behind closed doors over which major ego from across the planet would get the interview of a lifetime. ComStars News Bureau had attempted to jump in front of everyone as the ‘only neutral organisation’ but to my amusement (and relief) had been shouted down pretty much universally without Melissa having to lift a finger. The local media were apparently grinding towards an agreed decision on who would do the interviews and in the meantime the relative peace had provided plenty of time for Melissa to make her final preparations.
And having watched her prep work since we blasted off from New Avalon, I didn’t have the slightest doubt in her ability to pull this flying visit off…
*
***
******
***
*
“Attention all hands, Zero-G manoeuvre for burn correction will take place in sixty minutes.”
The voice that came across the ship's PA jolted me from a pleasant light dozing I had been engaged in. And although the seatbelt I had on -as per standard procedure- stopped me from flying out of my chair, the paperwork I had been resting on was now scattering across the deck of the tiny little office I was working out of on the Camelot.
Damnit.
With a sigh, I reached down and pulled the lever that unlocked the chair from its position, letting it push back on its short rail before unstrapping my lap belt and working my way free of the still limited space. I took a moment to stretch out that stiffness that comes from sitting down too long before getting to work collecting the documents, tossing them all back onto the desk before starting to sort them out. Happily they all looked intact. There was a finite supply of paper on the dropship and having to reprint documents because I had fallen asleep and slobbered all over them or something would have been a tad embarrassing.
Especially given it was only my second week in this job.
And while most of the paperwork in the 31st century was done electronically (at least at the House Lord level), hardcopies like this were necessary for things that required Melissa Steiners signature. For reasons.
Okay. So here was the paperwork for the authorization of the ‘random expenses accounts’ on Northwind (with a one million Kronor budget for miscellaneous expenses, seriously the Steiner idea of ‘petty cash’ was rather removed from my own) and I did not want that mixed in with the latest draft of the agenda items for the working meeting with the Clan Elders of Northwind on day two-
“Working late, John?” a voice broke into my thoughts as I finished re-sorting everything. I glanced up in surprise, then offered a slightly wry smile to the figure in the hatch.
“I could say the same of you” I observed and Carla North snorted as she casually leaned against the hatch while I finished sorting out the last of the paperwork. Melissa's Chief of Staff, Carla North was the daughter of some Count on Skye. A family staunchly Pro-Steiner who had never had time for the nutters scattered through the region, her appointment was at least partially political of course. But at the same time, Carla had earned her place through very hard work and raw talent in a happy confluence of factors. So much so that I wouldn’t have blamed her in the slightest if she had resented a complete rank amateur like me being shoved onto her staff by decree from on high.
She didn’t.
In fact, she went out of her way to welcome me onto the staff and make sure I knew I could come to her for any questions I may have had, which had given me a fighting chance to get my feet under me in this new job.
Because, you know, I had a lot of questions.
I mean, I did have enough slightly rusty experience from the corporate sector a lifetime ago that, when combined with the staff work I had been doing in the Fox’s Den, meant I could at least muddle my way through the basic stuff. Data entry from the multiple meetings Melissa had each day. Transcribing minutes. Writing summaries. All that kind of stuff was straight forward enough for me and much the same no matter whom you worked for.
Mostly. Things had gotten tricker when we entered the Northwind system and media spotlights had been directed at our dropship, spiking everyone's workload massively, but I was keeping up with the team as best I could. And even though I knew that she had the greatest workload on the ship, Carla had made it clear as daylight that she wanted me to come to her with any questions I had. Pointing out, logically, it was better for me to get it right the first time then to ****** it up and force her and the rest of the staff to have to redo my work on top of their own.
In fact, I strongly suspected they were still reviewing everything I was doing, which made it all the more critical for me to get it right the first time and get it in on time so they could skim through it, see it was good and tick it off rather than have to drop everything to rework it.
“But, I think it might be time to call it a night” I observed as I glanced at the clock, noting its time as I got to work zipping the papers into zip-lock plastic folders that would keep it all together in the event the ship went Zero-G. “Come to tuck me in?” I joked, earning a shake of the other's head..
“Actually … I came down because Lady Steiner would like the printout of her dinner speech, she is going to review and revise it.”
“I can drop it off tomorrow morning with the daily batch of papers” I offered immediately, jumping at a chance to say hi to Melissa. I hadn’t had any chance to even say hi to her since stepping onto the ship - despite working with her staff, I wasn’t on the invite list for any of her meetings. Which was fair enough given my very junior position and I knew that outside of the secure palace and in public, there would be rules and expectations around
“Ah no, she would like it now,” Carla corrected me. “She wants to go over the sections about Northwinds place as a first bridge between the Suns and Commonwealth and review Star League era complexities-”
“Hang on” I cut her off with a frown creasing my face as her words sunk in. “It’s midnight” I noted - before glancing quickly at the desk readout to make sure I wasn’t imagining it - “and she should be in bed. Why the heck does she want to look at this now?”
I didn’t say ‘why the ****** didn’t you just tell her to go to bed?’ but I’m pretty sure the point got across clearly from the way her gaze hardened slightly in a return of my own.
“Mister Smith, it’s not my place to question Lady Steiners decisions about how much sleep she gets - even if we might think it’s not enough” she chided me. “My job is to facilitate whatever our Lady wishes - and do what I can to smooth the way for her, in those desires. Now. Can I have the speech please?” she asked, holding out a hand with a clear expectation I’d give it to her now.
Alarm bells started chiming softly in the back of my head as I stared at that extended hand. Hanse had been very clear about his concerns for his wife and the possibility of her overworking - and I knew from conversations a few months back (when she and Kym were talking about nothing but babies) that she had been told incredibly clearly that it was critica at this stage of her pregnancy she got plenty of rest and didn’t skimp on the sleep…
And here was her Chief of Staff chiding me that it was our job to unquestionably support Melissa's decision making - even when it was clearly wrong like a bunch of yes men?
That was just utter tripe to me - but hit me again with the fact that this was not the 21st century with professional politicians supported by professional staff.
No, ultimately despite all her skills, Carla was a servant, not an adviser.
A facilitator in other words. Not a Consiglieri.
The nobility held the real decision making power incredibly close to themselves, with only very trusted people - generally other members of the aristocracy or otherwise people who had built up enormous personal trust over extended time - existing as players in that process.
And personally, I felt that a large part of the major decision making ****** in the past, present and future of Battletech came down to rulers not having a stable of trusted professional staff around them to serve as sounding boards and speed brakes.
Yes Victor, I’m looking at you.
And young Melissa right now didn’t really have … anyone. Kym and Morgan had served as that close knit group back on New Avalon, but as they were both on New Sytris right now that didn’t really leave anyone…
Except … ah crap.
“Alrighty then” I said, plucking the speech from my desk and brandishing it almost cheerfully … before ignoring the proffered hand to slip past her into the corridor. “I’ll hand deliver it. Personally.”
“Now, John-”
“It’s not a problem at all” I cheerfully cut her off a little loudly in a sing-song ‘I am not listening to you!’ kind of way as I strode down the cramped passage and then turned into the cross corridor to the elevator shaft that ran from bow to stern on the ovid dropship and punched the button for the F deck after swiping my access card. The elevator arrived before Carla caught up to me and I was soon enough on my way upwards, humming to myself as it slowly crawled up the ship…
Except … it belatedly occurred to me that Carla should have been right on my heels.
But she hadn’t actually followed me.
Or shouted an order for me to stop.
Or … you know, even tried to block me getting past her in a rather narrow hatch-
“Clever Girl” I muttered to myself as the lift jolted to a halt, shaking my head with a chuckle as it belatedly hit me just how easily Carla had pushed my buttons and gotten me to go and deal with her stubborn principal.
Without lifting a finger or putting herself in trouble if this went wrong.
Well I suppose there was a lesson for me there too.
With a clunk and hiss the elevator door slid back on F-deck, the VIP core of the heavily modified Overlord class dropship. Where on a stock overload the number 2 cargo bay would sit, on this ship existed what amounted to a multi-deck suite of apartments fit for a House Lord. Tristan Tzu, one of Melissa’s LIC bodyguards was sitting at the desk off to the side of the small room the lift opened onto, a friendly look on his face at my arrival even as I wondered how I was going to talk my way past him if Melissa had put up the ‘do not disturb’ sign.
“Tristan, I need to see the boss” I started out with … and apparently that was all I needed as with a casual nod, Tristan pressed and held a button and after a handful of seconds, there was a buzzing as the hatch on the far side of the room clunked as it was unlocked and slid back and he gestured me onwards without saying a word.
Okay, no ‘do not disturb’ sign.
“Thanks” I nodded to the bodyguard - it always paid to be nice to people who you had seen on the firing range practising a two-second draw to headshot a target at 30 metres - and I stepped through the armoured bulkhead door into the start of a passage that curved around the core of the ship. Another bodyguard station was directly in front of the hatch I had just come through with the main barracks of Melissa’s close protection detail right behind it and a whole load of monitors to watch everything going on closely.
It seemed slightly paranoid for a secure ship in space with a triple screened fanatic crew on board, but after centuries of war and assassination gambits on all sides, I suppose this probably qualified as ‘light’ security for an Archon-Designate on the move.
The bodyguard on this side of the door I didn’t recognize but she simply greeted me with a professional nod.
“The Archon-Designate is in her office Lieutenant. This deck, third hatch on the right” she said waving me onward and I nodded to that, again thanking the very lethal killer politely before turning to stride down the curving passage counting hatches and stopping at number three, pressing the buzzer button.
“Yes?” Melissa’s distinctive voice came back a moment later - and on a sudden impulse, I shifted my voice a little deeper.
“The draft speech you requested, Archon-Designate” I replied formally in a way that I hoped would make me just sound like any old staffer. And a second later the hatch buzzed as it was unlocked and with only a slight grunt, I reached down and pushed the armoured and airtight hatch open, stepping through and taking a glance around in appreciation at what I found.
Now this was the way to fly!
The office was, by dropship standards, huge. Wedge shaped like most rooms stretching out from the ship's spine, it started with a set of desks (currently empty) I presumed were for Carla and a couple of other assistants to work from. It then narrowed into a sweet looking lounge set large enough for a dozen people to easily sit around and finished with a quite decent sized working desk (clearly for The Boss), backed by a large vid screen behind it on the far bulkhead, currently off.
And speaking of the boss…
Melissa was not at the desk but a glance around had me quickly spot the top of her blond head, just visible over the edge of the seat with her back to me. And beyond her I could see the coffee table the lounge set was set around held an alarming amount of paperwork.
Now, the ‘rules’ of nobility (that I had slowly, painfully, absorbed over the years from hanging around them) told me that a noble sitting in their office with their back to the door was code for ‘they don’t wish to engage with visitors, so drop off whatever you brought them and leave quietly’.
So I of course ignored said rules as I closed the hatch behind me. She should have heard me as I walked across the deck but such was her focus on the folio precariously balanced across her knees and the papers she was running red lines through that she seemed utterly oblivious to my presence in the room…
Right up until I dropped the pages of the speech on top of said folio
She gave out an adorable kind of little yelp not quite on the verge of a screech of surprise as she jumped before twisting around to look up behind her at me - and her face shifted from shock through to an annoyed glare.
“Do you make it a habit to sneak up on pregnant women and scare them half to death like that?” she demanded of me as she twisted back and started to sort back through the papers she had scattered atop her, kicking her feet off as she swivelled to face the table. Tilting my head slightly, I stepped around the lounge to get a better look at her … and I didn’t like what I saw.
At all.
She’s tired, she’s nervous - even anxious?
And even more worryingly, she clearly wasn’t bothering to hide it like she normally would.
“No. Which is why I entered your room making all the noise of an Alpha Sierra Seven Delta in a bad mood and you still completely missed me” I shot back as she continued to gather her papers, muttering to herself.
Melissa however, didn’t even acknowledge my snark. Which was even more of a red flag to me because she would never, ever let me get the last word in a snarking match if she had her way as she shuffled the papers, muttering to herself.
“The fact that you didn’t notice strongly suggests it's past your bedtime” I added into the silence that stretched as she tried to ignore me and get back to work, feeling a little awkward at the silent treatment. “And it’s well past zero-hundred hours.”
“In a minute” she waved me off vaguely, now bringing the speech I had brought her to the forefront, leaning back as she started to skim through it. “I just need to rework the dinner speech…”
My eyes narrowed a little at that, watching as Melissa set aside whatever she had been working on to now get started on the speech, ripping the folder open and removing the pages therein.
That was not the way she worked. Jumping from one half finished project to another…
“You signed off on that speech this morning and your staff was happy with it” I reminded her carefully, probingly. “It was perfectly fine, excellent even, so what are you doing?”
“It could be better - it’s my first speech, it needs to be better” she muttered as she now picked up a red pen and started to make notions and work through them, seemingly entirely lost to the world and determined to rewrite the damn thing from the very beginning, still ignoring me.
Okay, now I was pretty sure she couldn’t have me unilaterally tossed out an airlock, so before my brain could tell me this was a really bad idea I stepped forward and in one smooth moth, snapped her folio closed and yanked it off to sling it under my arm before taking a step or two away and turning to face her.
She stared charmingly at me for several long seconds. Her mouth hanging open in pure dumb shock while holding a pen in her frozen hand. Clearly taken completely aback by the fact anyone had the sheer gall to do something like that to her, Melissa Steiner!
Which was kinda the ultimate red flag.
Because of all people, she should know I was a person who would do such a thing.
Then her grey eyes narrowed. Narrowed in what she probably thought was a dangerous, High Nobility ‘you are dancing on the edge of the most terrible kind of mistake’ warning way she had probably learn from her mother … but frankly she just looked adorable as she swung around and placed her feet on the deck, slowly coming to her feet and standing opposite me, her hands on her hips.
“Give it back.”
“Give what back?” I asked with the most innocent possible expression I could muster with her folio tucked blatantly under my arm, feeling absurdly childish in a good way about this as she worked her jaw.
“John” she huffed, “I have very important-”
“You had very important work to do - which you finished off this afternoon. I should know, given that I was typing up the minutes of your meetings where all of this” I glanced at the paperwork on the table pointedly, “had already been signed off on. And rewriting your speech - among other rewrites - is an entirely unproductive use of your time given that it was perfectly fine when you signed off on it this morning.”
I let that stand for a second before taking a deep breath and trying to not sound so damn judgemental as the tension crackled between us in a way it never had before, neither of us wanting to back down. Feeling like I was blindly groping towards something here without a map.
“You’re a lot smarter than this Mel” I noted before lowering my voice and trying to not sound in any way accusing, just, helpful as she stood there speechless. “Second guessing yourself like this? It’s not you-”
“Oh you know that do you?” she didn’t quite snarl, jerking her head up to glare at me with a heat that took me completely aback as she took a step forward, her hands clenched into fists. “Because you read in your books that Melissa Steiner-Davion was a perfect ruler? A woman who can do this kind of work in her sleep and never put a foot wrong to the public? Why else would everyone send me bouncing across the Inner Sphere to take on this work!” she asked the universe, spinning to start pacing back and forth and started to gesticulate with her arms, “if not for the fact that thanks to you they know that I am a natural at this! After all, it’s just in my blood right and because she could do it, so can I? Just throw her off the cliff and watch her start flying through the air, because I’m sure she’ll piece it together before she hits the ground!”
Okay, I thought quietly in the small part of my mind not frozen numb in shock. So … not quite speechless…
I was so utterly taken aback that if Melissa had simply reached out then and yanked her work back before telling me to get the ****** out so she could get back to work? I would have probably just turned around and walked out then and there, deciding I needed to regroup and come up with a new plan tomorrow morning.
But as it so happened, I think Melissa mistook my freezing in shock with an expressionless look on my face … for me directing a Mary Poppins level arch ‘Are you quite finished with this tantrum?’ look at her.
And after a few moments of the raw tension rolling between us, Melissa … blinked, opened her mouth like she was about to say something … then closed it and slowly turned back, to take a seat on the lounge. All but collapsing into it as her head came to gently rest in her hands.
And so she looked so terribly small doing so.
Small, alone and lost. Scared. On the verge of wanting to cry even…oh shit, she was crying!
And with that, reality hit me in the face like the backhand of an Atlas.
Fact. This was a not-even twenty year old woman … who had expectations on her shoulders the likes of which I could barely even begin to understand. And for all my angst and uncertainty and bitching about being pushed into the nobility by the Davions and Steiners…
She was a teenager.
Just married - but without her husband to hand thanks to politics. She was both about to become a mother and had been sent off into the Inner Sphere on her first real engagement in her own right.
When I was her age, the biggest decision I had been making was if I reallllyyyy needed to go to that uni lecture at 8:30 in the morning…
And worst of all … she would forever be existing - thanks to me- in the shadow of Melissa Steiner-Davion. The ‘heart’ of the FedCom with the distant silhouette of The Bitch on the horizon behind her.
I mean, Hanse Davion and Katrina Steiner had been forced to confront a lot thanks to me. But they were rulers with decades of experience under their belts. They had, unsurprisingly after a brief period of adjustment, shifted right to turning everything I had brought to them to their own advantage with a ruthlessness and energy you would expect of people who had led Great Houses of the Inner Sphere for years.
But Melissa?
As Spock may have put it- she was intelligent … but inexperienced. And just a tad anxious about the first step she was going to be taking towards, ultimately, the Archonship. And I regarded her once more, watching silently as she rubbed her eyes. Clearly trying to slowly rebuild her composure, possibly feeling she had made a complete fool of herself in front of me-
Okay. Enough standing around. Get your shit together and start fixing this John I told myself firmly, taking a deep breath as I shifted around to take a seat opposite her on the far side of the table.
Given what Melissa had just said, I really really hoped that per standard procedure, security watching this room would be strictly doing so only via video cameras without audio pickups - otherwise the two of us were going to have to have some very interesting discussions with her people shortly…
-
“I’m not - and never- expected you to do well because you are that woman Mel” I noted into the silence, causing the younger woman to blink and glance up at me, her face looking terribly worn to the point I had to fight the immediate urge to move across and just give her a hug. “I’m expecting you to do well because you’re simply far better at this than she ever was.”
“I‘m … Sorry?”
“I said, you’re far better at this than she was” I repeated with emphasis, leaning forward and tossing the folio on top of the mess of papers on the table. “Melissa Steiner-Davion. Because, to be frank with you Mel? It’s easy to be beloved and be seen as a friend to all people when you refuse to do a damn thing, refuse to take any firm positions or make any hard decisions and just don’t do anything except nod along to what other people tell you to do. And seemingly spend most of your time smiling and waving for the cameras. Because whenever we saw her ‘on screen’” I airquoted, “she, I mean you, I mean …” I paused, getting my tenses together before trying again with a huff of air and roll of my eyes as I leaned back into the sinfully soft lounge, but kept my gaze locked with hers.
“Look” I tried again, reaching up to run a hand through my hair. “You’ve read the Warrior Trilogy. Name one strategic act Melissa Steiner-Davion actively owned in those books - other than enthusiastically breeding with Hanse?”
“John, seriously?!” she cringed at my choice of words and I rolled my eyes a little even as secretly I took heart from the way her face flushed and brought some life back to her.
“Yes yes, we know where babies come from” I just waved away her objection vaguely, determined to keep the momentum now I had it. “But can you point to her doing something that actually meant anything? Can you point to a decision she took and stood by at this point in the timeline that wasn’t really just following blindly along and executing whatever your mother or husband decided? And please don’t even get me started about Clan-Invasion era Melissa” I half huffed and half scoffed with a shake of my head and roll of my eyes at the ceiling above. “Because if you replaced her with a cardboard cutout at the big kids table, you probably wouldn’t even notice the difference on Outreach despite the fact that she was the bloody Archon of the realm being invaded! But you…”
I trailed off as it belatedly occurred to me then that I was being unfair to Melissa Steiner-Davion.
… Well, probably being unfair.
After all, I had hardly seen her day-to-day work. A few books of data hardly equated to the activities of a Head of State or a life spent in service of one.
But the truth was that I couldn’t remember a damn thing she had done at the ‘big picture’ level during the various crises other than doing whatever Hanse told her to do-
“But me?” Melissa broke into my thoughts with a prompt and I blinked as I realised I had drifted off, clearing my throat to face her once again, taking in the emotions on her face and not quite able to process anything there, except that I had her attention and she was dealing with some major major shit right now…
“Bluntly” I said, reaching out to place the folio back onto the table in front of her, “you’ve done more - in less than a year - than I can remember her doing across her entire reign. You '' I said, stabbing a finger out to point unfailingly at her - and being mildly pleased she didn’t flinch - “not her, led a media blitz through the Capellan March that has solidified it so utterly behind Hanse and Morgan that Micahel is willing to take a suicide mission as his only option to protect whats left of his legacy. Your convincing Hanse to go public with Doppelganger has changed the entire perception of the war in the Lyran Commonwealth and supercharged the Federated Sun's support behind it. Hell” I said, shaking my head in disbelief, “the Free Worlds League seem increasingly determined to believe Anton bloody Marik was another Maximilian doppelganger, destroying any last Pro-Capellan sentiment inside the League! And here and now” I added, looking sharply back at her and locking gazes, “Instead of sneaking home like Steiner-Davion did, you’re marching back home in public! Dealing with major political issues on behalf of Hanse and your Mother, with their full absolute authority to back any and all decisions you might make! It might be jumping in the deep end, but by God Melissa, if there is anyone who can swim in those waters…”
I paused for a second as I realised my tone had become increasingly strident and I turned away for a second to clear my throat, chewing my lower lip in thought for a moment before turning back to face the not-a-child young woman.
“Look. Mel … if I ever made you think you were in competition with ‘Battletech’ you? I’m sorry. Truly, I’m so sorry. But” I added, raising a finger with emphasis, “I’m not sorry that I’ve gotten to watch you - not her, you - accomplish so damn much in so little time. You want to know why I’m so sure you’re smarter than this?” I asked, pointing idly at the coffee table and its scattered papers. “It’s because you’ve already blown so far past the mark she set over her entire career that this has ceased being any kind of competition. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve proven you’re both more capable, more determined and frankly, more willing to stand up and be counted then she ever did.”
I sort of ran out of words there and just stopped talking as Melissa continued to stare at me with an expression that I really could not decipher at all. Just stared at me and I met that stare as time dragged out into that awkward space.
“I’m sorry - I’m not really trained as a life coach, how long do we have to keep staring at each other?” I finally asked into the silence.
That did the trick and Melissa closed her eyes and clearly was fighting hard to keep a smile off her face and a snicker from escaping her mouth - and failed in both - before she shook her head and the moment was moved past as she sighed slowly before patting the seat next to her.
Taking the invitation I stood and moved around the table to sit right next to her - leaving an appropriate amount of room between us but close enough for me to study her face closely and decide we needed to wrap this up - she needed sleep.
“I have been preparing for this my entire life John - training for it my entire life” Melissa said, without looking at me. “And it is not the first time I’ve been in public; I’ve given speeches and made appearances on behalf of my mother a few times, in front of all of Tharkad even. But John, the thought of being the one to make the decisions on their behalf? In front of the entire Inner Sphere? It’s … it’s just a little terrifying to think of the consequences if I get it wrong.”
“Well … I can understand that” I muttered.
Melissa blinked, then turned to more fully face me with a raised eyebrow. Silently, with a very clear pointed question on her face.
“Well, not as such, no I can’t” I corrected myself in response to her unspoken words, earning a soft, amused huff before my thoughts drifted back in time…
“But. A few years ago on New Avalon I was out shopping one day. At the Pinehills shopping centre - nice place, you should really swing by it some time when you’re back” I added, earning a sceptical look from Melisssa at the idea that she could casually go and visit a shopping centre without half an RCT tagging along behind her.
Because you never knew if there was an ISF agent hiding out in an orange juice stand…
“Anyway” I pressed on, shaking off the sudden image of Ninjas jumping out of juice kiosks, “I had stopped for lunch and was waiting in a line at the food court. And it just so happened that some kid behind me asked his father about why it was called ‘fast food’. And his Father - or possibly his Grandfather - told his son that it’s because back in the Star League days, they were able to freeze meals perfectly at the time of cooking and put them into some kind of suspended animation. Then perfectly bring them back years later like they had just come out of the kitchen!
And there I was, half listening in amusement at how phrases like ‘fast food’ could mutate over centuries as I started to wonder if the Helm Core might have that technology somewhere … and right then, at that thought, everything changed.”
I leaned back into the soft lounge at that, my gaze twisting to stare at the roof of the cabin, getting lost in the almost damascus steel pattern in the alloy of the deck above us as my thoughts spun back in an echo of that moment.
“You know, it sounds a bit crazy in hindsight that I hadn’t ever really thought about it. But it was only in line for a Triple-F burger that it hit me that the future wasn’t … it wasn’t simply an immutable bit of background fluff anymore. It hadn’t been since I materialised at the NAIS one day. I was in Battletech. I wasn’t reading it! Wasn’t playing it! I was living it. Ergo, I could change it - my own actions could -and would!- change things. And the knowledge I had? Oh the knowledge I had in my head could shake the Inner Sphere to pieces … or pave the road towards a new golden age. Or anything in between! And the sheer weight of responsibility, for the hundreds of billions of lives, thousands of star systems here and beyond the Inner Sphere that my choices could impact?”
I paused for a moment then to try and release some of the emotions that those thoughts and memories brought back up.
“Honestly?” I continued in a lower tone of voice, still staring at the swirls in the ceiling alloy and letting my thoughts get lost in the non-euclidean patterns. “If not for Kym showing up that day in the park and proving to me that the timeline had already been changed on a ‘higher’ level? That the genie was already out of the bottle irrespective of if I wanted it to be or not … I honestly don’t know Mel. I just … don’t know.”
To my quiet shame, honestly compelled me to admit that truth. Would I have found the courage without a convenient shortcut directly to the top and a woman who forced the issue, to make a choice? To take a risk and make a difference?
Blinking, I glanced away from the ceiling and the past beyond it, turning around awkwardly to look back at the young woman next to me and forcing something of a serious look back onto my face.
“Anyway. Before I left New Avalon, your husband took me aside and gave me a bit of a lecture - right on the verge of a dressing down - on how I needed to trust other peoples objectivity over my own ‘gut’ feelings. Specifically, on subjects and situations where I lacked the experience of others to be objective about my own actions.”
“You tried to downplay your actions on the battlefield as nothing special worthy of note, didn’t you?” Melissa snorted, with a sharp, knowing look in her eyes. “The man who saved my husband's life by charging down one of the most deadly Mechwarriors in history in a Battlemech without weapons before self-destructing it right on top of him after gathering a group of lost cadets and-”
“Yes yes yes, save it for the award ceremony Mel” I cut her off and rolled my eyes, earning another amused snort as I stood up and then extended a hand, Melissa taking it and getting to her feet carefully, carrying all that extra weight…
Both visible and invisible. So much weight that could not be seen but was being thrust on her shoulders I thought silently.
But she didn’t have to carry it alone.
“Trust your husband and mother. They would never send you ‘out’ into the world before they thought you were ready. They’re simply too good at this to make such a wild miscalculation and they believe in you. And for whatever it might be worth Mel? So long as you have to deal with this weight on your back … I’ll always have your back.”
The last words slipped out before I even thought about it and I would have felt a little embarrassed at them … if not for the smile on Melissa’s face that could have thawed half of Tharkad.
*
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*
Personally I thought the parade was a little overdone.
A horse drawn carriage with an honour guard of fifteen riders in ranks of five carrying a mixture of Federated Suns, Lyran Commonwealth and Northwind planetary flags. But just to remind everyone that this was Battletech, every fifty metres along the parade route on both sides a Battlemech from the Northwind Highlanders was stationed, saluting her carriage as she passed with a raise of their right arm (although the Locusts and the occasional Catapult doing it looked weird as they just tilted and dipped their weapons pod on that side).
It was the kind of parade you saw at Royal Weddings. Even though this clearly wasn’t one.
But on the other hand, Melissa hadn’t gotten one of these at her wedding because on Terra there just hadn’t really been any point. So in a strange way, as this was her very first public event since the wedding reception, this whole thing was that ‘Newly Married Princess’ carriage ride that was still very much a tradition in both realms on the FedCom (although on Tharkad they tended to use a sleigh) and the planet seemed to have embraced the rather unique opportunity with open arms.
Of course, even without the question of the wedding, I had learned (slowly) not to underestimate the sheer cult of personality around House Lords. Truely, it was a once-if-a-lifetime opportunity for even major worlds to get a visit from such a person and the last time Northwind had been visited by such a VIP had been the First Prince's Heir Joseph Davion in 2874 on a standard military rotation (I’d checked). Melissa showing up like this - let alone on her first public outing as the wife of Hanse Davion and carrying their child - had seemingly caused a bit of a reaction from the people here,
Even the return of the Northwind Highlanders home at the start of the year hadn’t reached this level of insanity - although to be fair, that had been mixed in with a degree of (ironic) ‘No true Scotsmen’ arguments. In canon they had returned just in time to kick a Combine invasion off the planet (and had taken quite a pounding from Yorinaga as he had covered the withdrawal, saving Team Banzai from annihilation).
Saving your planet from the Draconis Combine in War Crimes mode generally earned you a lot of appreciation after all and the Highlanders really couldn’t have asked for a better Big Damn Heroes moment to come home and be welcomed back with open arms.
But this time? In this timeline they looked rather more like rats abandoning the sinking ship of state SS Confederation, after clinging onto it for centuries with a determination barnacles would have envied. Even as it steadily became a sick and twisted place that combined the very worst tropes of Stalin's Russia, Mao’s China and the occasional sprinkling of Pol Pot's Cambodia mixed in - despite theoretically being Mercs who could pack up and leave anytime they wanted.
Oh they had had a huge welcome home parade and all that, but Northwind had a population of over two billion and a genuinely significant chunk of them had been a bit ambivalent - or even outright distrustful - of the Highlanders grandly declaring that they had returned … from, as many commentators had pointed out, a self-imposed exile, in service to a ****** toxic waste dump of a state.
With some even going so far as to question their claim to be ‘Northwind’ in the first place!
Giving those people a standing ovation I knew Melissa would declare to be ‘unhelpful’. Still, the surprise revelation of the secret ties between the unit and clan elders sustained over centuries (and even I hadn’t known about that!) had caused the local naysayers to mostly concede to the position that the Highlanders at the very least deserved a fair and honest chance to show their loyalty to the world, its people and the First Prince and had let it be. With an implied ‘but we will be watching and judging’ left unsaid but heard loud and clear.
So much so that part of me wondered if Hanse had played media games here to set expectations from the outset. Balancing out his incredibly generous deal with pump priming local expectations to ensure the Highlanders understand where their allegiances now sat. To integrate them and assimilate them much more tightly into the Federated Suns than their very loose association in the past and skin-deep loyalty from the original timeline.
Anyway, comparing Melissa’s arrival in comparison to the Highlanders return?
The whole damn system had gone ****** and I had never seen anything like it in my life.
Melissa's carriage was open topped - after a fashion. Covered in a ferro-crystal dome made of similar material to Battlemech cockpits. It was somewhat weaker - a necessary tradeoff for its transparency, but it still provided enough protection to shrug off a direct hit from an SRM if anyone had such a weapon to hand. Even so, it was far less than the standard of protection usually applied for someone of her stature and her security people were probably angsting more than Romano Liao off her meds as she wound her way through the city.
But, unlike back in my time where Presidents and Prime Ministers were typically forced to do what they were told by their security people, in this time and place Feudal Lords gave instructions and minions obeyed, no matter how much they disagreed. And in a Steiner-Blue dress with a subtle tiara nestled in her golden locks - and I swear to BROB that the crystal glass was refracting the sunlight just right to cause a faint rainbow to hover around her - she looked every inch the Royalty she was as she rolled through the city. Most striking on the close ups, she was wearing face paint of all things. Like, this intricate blue star sort of design around her right eye and cheek that looked like some kind of huge tattoo?
Yeah, apparently that was a ‘thing’ in the Commonwealth nobility - at least for the women. I didn’t get it, but from the surprisingly large number of young women in the crowd who had taken paint to their own faces in a similar sort of way, I guessed it was currently the ‘in’ trend or something?
God only knows I had only grown more bewildered the more I had learned about Court protocol over the last week.
People were hanging off every - and I mean every - possible vantage point to get a view. Including casually sitting on window ledges that made me feel a little nervous of one of them falling ten stories onto the crowd under them, but I didn’t hear any reports of that happening thus far. More than once I was treated to close ups on the vid of crowds of young women, possibly high-school students, waving frantically at her approach … and then breaking out into shrieking screams, jumping up and down clutching each other when Melissa did wave and smile back at them. Seriously. Katniss Everdeen in the Tributes Parade had nothing on the kind of reception Melissa was getting here or the reactions from her waves. Or the never ending shower of confetti in red and green making the entire sky look like a tartan whirlwind …
And all through it Melissa was just smiling and waving, perfectly.
Not sure she could do this my ****** ass I thought with a silent snort. Melissa seemed without even trying to have captured the hearts and souls of the people she rode past. Crowds screaming and jumping, as if she had connected to them on some very special personal level…
I killed the video replay now knowing it would carry on for some time before she reached the Town Hall where the Clan Elders were waiting to receive her and turned back to my work, suddenly far happier to be stuck here doing paperwork than having to schmooze with the local politicians like she would be all afternoon.
And, you know, there was a lot of paperwork.
-
The local HPG had delivered a ****** of messages almost as soon as we landed (and I had managed not to glare too much at the ComStar acolytes from an upper story window as they had handed off the sealed container with practised smiles) and a chunk of them had been handed off to me from Carla. Including the ‘Lyran Commonwealth - Draconis Combine Front Situation Report’ which I had been given the task of reviewing and summarising down to a neat single page of bullet points for ‘The Boss’. Looking anxiously through the pages for any sign that anything had changed over the last week …
And finding, to my considerable relief (and suspicions), nothing had.
The War broadly proceeded much as it had in the original timeline - at least at first glance. Although looking deeper I could start to see more of the changes to history that had been caused by my butterfly flapping - well, outside of Yorinaga Kurita going full Operation TEN-GO against New Avalon of course.
The revised Götterdämmerung Op-Plan had placed a much higher emphasis on attacking DCMS units. Bypassing a number of worlds originally targeted (and guarded by nothing but militia) in favour of focusing down garrisoned worlds and taking on as much of the DCMS as they could in the first wave when they had surprise on their side.
It was a self belief in the capability of the LCAF unseen for a very long time and even with my foreknowledge of just how hard the iron fist of the Commonwealth had smashed out the DCMS’s teeth, seeing Katrina go for the throat like this was to a lot of people (at least to those who didn’t know the woman) very shocking, to put it mildly.
Melissa had been almost gleeful late last year as she had relayed the news from home (she and Jenna Clay had become pen-pals which was just weird) about how her mother had used the war to deal damn near as much damage to her internal political opponents as she had to her external military enemies.
Specifically, some of Katrina Steiners political enemies via ‘friends’ in Lyran high command had been leaked incredibly carefully selected footage and data from the front line. Footage that was 100% genuine, but allowed without any broader context only one conclusion about how the war was going to be drawn.
That was to say, ‘poorly, verging on a complete disaster’ if a radical shift wasn’t made immediately.
It was an engraved invitation for her enemies and they had not wasted time sharing the news among themselves and launching into an information vacuum on Tharkad desperate for news as the high of the wedding coverage faded. Rallying the small (but annoyingly vocal) cluster of representatives in the Estates Generals who were still openly antagonistic over Katrina's rule and convinced, against all logical observation, that she was some kind of incompetent, egomaniacal usurper of an Archon who was going to destroy the Lyran Commonwealth. And as if someone had flicked a switch, a ****** brigade of ex-social Generals and officers forced out under Katrina and Edward Regis had come squirming out of the woodwork to condemn the war. Loudly talking about how badly she had clearly screwed things up, smugly pointing out that her grand ‘new Davion model army’ was proving to be a spectacular failure like they had tried to warn everyone it would be from the beginning.
Not all of the media jumped onto the bandwagon and the majority of the Estates Generals members were circumspect, but ‘tense’ would be an accurate word to use regarding the public's nervous wait for real information on what was going on as Katrina maintained the information blackout. Even ComStars News Bureau had kept its mouth shut and ‘respected the request from both parties for information blackouts’.
Of course, that restraint had been more around the difficulty of putting lipstick on a pig I’m sure; it was kinda hard to spin ‘Lyran Commonwealth utterly curbstomps Draconis Combine’ after all without admitting said curbstomp. Especially on Tharkad where the ComStar News Network had never been able to really compete with the Lyran information megacorps cutthroat antics and saturation.
Most likely I think, the First Circuit had faintly hoped that by not telling the truth, the disquiet in the information vacuum might lead to some kind of backlash against Katrina? It sounded like the kind of subtle - but passive - play Tiepolo would back.
Unfortunately, the big fish like Alesandro were far too canny and experienced to ever stick their necks out this quickly. Instead, they had encouraged many of their supporters and nominal proxies to prepare the ground while they stayed back preparing to make their own power moves at the right time…
Or as Sir Ian McKellen might have put it; ‘In chess, the pawns go first’.
Thirty days after the start of hostilities and a week to the day after she had arrived back on Tharkad from Terra, Katrina had finally declared she would make an official speech on the ‘evolving situation’ with the public not quite at breaking point on the major Commonwealth worlds in their demands for information. The ominous sounding words sent fools to work furiously sharpening knives as some in the media dared to all but openly ‘call it’ that the Archon was going to try and just put the best face on some kind of complete disaster. Katrina had even declined to use her throne room, instead choosing a massive auditorium on grounds of The Triad, one better suited for giving a large presentation. And with the massed ranks of the Estates Generals seated to her front, plus rank after rank of seats ascending into a wall of faces staring down at the stage?
Well I would have been scared shitless going out in front of that audience.
But Katrina had walked calmly onto the stage. The vast crowd came to their feet (some slower than others in a calculated way) before she waved them back and got right down to it. Flicking a control wand and causing a massive holograph to materialise above her, showing a map of the Commonwealth/Combine border, she had given a quick briefing on the details of Götterdämmerung, two dozen worlds along the border flashing red as the scope of the Lyran Assault was for the first time, made very clear.
The shock in the audience had been visible even on the vid replays I had watched. The sheer scale of the attack was like nothing that had been seen in centuries and far beyond what the media had managed to piece together. Certain members of the Estates Generals, so Jenna Clay had thought from her hidden perch backstage where she was cosplaying Melissa, almost seemed to be practising exactly how they would stand up shout out and boldly demand a vote of no confidence on the live vid cast when Katrina finally confessed to her spectacular failure over such an over-ambitious folly-
Annnnnnnd then the hammer dropped as the border moved on the projection.
Forward.
Every single system targeted turning blue as the Commonwealth erased a third of the losses suffered over a century in a month. The wave of Lyran blue eating into the Combines scarlet in one smooth motion in a way that had never happened in Lyran history as worlds lost for generations were again brought under the banner of the Steiner Fist.
From that, Katrina had moved on without pause, owning the moment and ignoring the shocked gasps and choked noises coming from the crowd. The hologram zoomed in to each system as she went down the border from the Periphery to the Terran core and gave a quick situation report on each of the attacks. With graphs, pictures and silent small video clips drifting through the air above her to reinforce data points as she laid out the catastrophic losses the DCMS had taken against the (relatively) light losses to the LCAF. Plenty of pictures too of screaming delighted throngs of civilians celebrating their liberations from the brutal grip of the Dragon, Buckminster getting perhaps the biggest gasps with the news the two Royal Guards RCTs and 10th Lyran Guards had beaten the 2nd Sword of Light itself, like a drum, a quarter of the unit surviving only because they had run away faster than the LCAF could keep up. All the way down to Altair itself, where she magnanimously praised the Federated Suns Armoured Cavalry who had made a guest appearance on this front in the name of solidarity to help smash the Dieron Regulars garrison on the Combines closest world to Terra, nominally cutting the Combine off from the homeworld of humanity as well as the Free Worlds League.
And just because she was a ruthless woman who always made sure to double tap; Katrina Steiner had ended her presentation almost casually with the announcement that a second wave of attacks was already underway, with highly positive indicators so far. And oh, by the by; Theodore Kurita, the (only known) Heir to the Dragon, had been killed by Patrick Kell in said opening wave in a personal duel to the death.
Honestly, I think the only reason she didn’t mic-drop as she turned and left the stage was that she had been using a tiny lapel mic. But the explosion of cheering and screaming and hugging through the massive crowd behind her had been most heartening … as were the almost white faces of some people in the crowd who looked like they were about to throw up as they realised just how far out on that thin tree branch they had been left standing
The consequences had not been long in coming.
A half dozen members of the Estates Generals had announced their retirement for ‘personal reasons’ within 48 hours as the cutthroat Lyran information networks had flipped a switch without the slightest shame. Changing modes from ‘friendly and useful ally for Katrina's political opponents’ to ‘self-appointed judge, jury and executioner of enemies of Katrina The Great’ in a way that would have had the Murdoch press in awe back on Earth. Another couple of dozen politicians, accounting for almost all of the rest of the ‘Anti-Katrina’ block now reduced to an inconsequential little clique, had been forced into gloriously humiliating public apologies to the Archon and LCAF that didn’t quite reach the point of kowtowing in the snowdrifts lining the front of the Triad in an attempt to placate the media lynch mob. Formerly powerful and respected politicians, they were now fighting for their political lives as they desperately tried to find a door into Katrina’s ‘big tent’ before they froze to death in the cold. Even as in more than one case, back on their homeworlds, the first calls for a recall of their representatives came through.
Oh, and the so-called ‘experts’ of retired social Generals?
Suffice to say the real experts had finally been let off the leash and were having a field day talking about how the morons had got it all so incredibly wrong. According to Mel, quite a number of them had been quietly fired from various director positions they had been holding in the Lyran military-industrial complex (and House Steiners various branches had unsurprisingly made the most of the opportunity to increase their own board seats) while most of the rest had found a lot of doors that had been open to them now nailed shut with the people inside insisting they didn’t know who this person on the other side was.
Katrina in short had used the 4th Succession war to clean house. And while Alesandro, the biggest fish, had somewhat escaped unscathed by not sticking his neck out (‘That’s why the pawns go first’!) his remaining network of media, military and political connections had been shredded - and he had still gotten some muck on him by association. Even if only in comparison between his Concentrated Weakness and Katrinas Götterdämmerung.
And with probably the most free hand any Archon had been given to work with in centuries; Katrina had rolled up her sleeves and gotten down to the business of winning the war to establish her peace.
Through to the end of January this year, a rolling wave of attacks on minimally defended worlds in the Rasalhague District had been underway. Targeting and picking off world after world as chains of jumpships continued to move yet more garrison forces and civilian administration teams forward at a rate that even the massive economy of the Lyran Commonwealth was hard pressed to keep up with. All of the worlds targeted were former Lyran worlds, generally very happy to see their liberators - and in the case of Mozirie, local ‘Tyr’ movements supplied and supported by the LIC had all but liberated the world themselves by the time the LCAF arrived to provide the muscle to finish the job.
And all the while, units not on the offensive were receiving a steady trickle of TSM upgrade kits and the occasional Freezer pack in addition to the normal shipments of gear as they settled in. Spending the time running training exercises and supporting the civilian outreach programs as Lyran authority was re-established over the worlds taken.
It was rather expensive, but you know, money was not something the Lyran Commonwealth was noticeably in short supply of. And while the Lyrans were flexing, the DCMS was sitting around in helpless fury watching as the gains of centuries were eroded before their eyes.
Not counter attacking with all the force they could muster surely must have burned in the Warlords throats like supercharged acid reflux! But the cold, hard truth was that they didn’t have the pieces on the board to do anything so grand. Events on Luthien had left them with neither the logistics nor, more usefully, the unified will to coordinate and support a massive counter attack as their border garrisons were obliterated or forced to fall back.
Seriously. Takashi Kurita going into a Coma?
Now, that I had not seen coming.
I knew there had been fan speculation (or perhaps it had been canon, I just couldn’t remember no matter how much Quintus poked at me) back in the day that something had happened to his cardiovascular system around this time. And it was clear that the triple whammy of Hanse casually dropping the bombshell of Theodore's secret family, Jamie Wolf dickslapping him even worse than canon and the death of his heir in the opening wave of attacks?
Well, it had seemingly all been too much for the ****** in Chief of the Draconis Combine, who had collapsed into a coma and opened the way for Marcus (and to my astonishment, Grieg Samsonov as his Starscream … err … Gunji-no-Kanrei) to move in as his ‘regent’ while Takashi sat on the Golden Throne guarded by the Adaptus Otomo!
According to LIC, the other Warlords seemed disinclined to do much in the way of obeying the ‘Imperial Regent’ as Marcus had dubbed himself. Instead, they were all focusing inwards on their own districts and trying to fort up (which was rather problematic as Luthien had long engineered the Combines' strategic production and logistics to require intra-district cooperation under control of the capital) while also trying to deal with the Lyran monster knocking at their doors as best they could.
Warlord Ivan Sorenson in Rasalhague had responded to events by pulling his damaged units back and calling what reserves he had forward, scraping the barrel for anything in his district to reinforce a line from Alshain to New Oslo just beyond the last of the historically Lyran worlds the Combine had sliced off over the centuries.
Now, that was certainly a ‘coragougous’ choice for a Warlord of the Combine. Probably even the right call given his situation - strategically - but whoever ended up on top of the little tussle probably wouldn’t be looking to reward him for losing the gains of centuries in mere months.
Then again, he would be in good company because Warlord Hirushi Shotugama in Benjamin had been even faster to withdraw from his tiny border with the Commonwealth after the 2nd Sword of Light had been wrecked on Buckminster. And even after the 1st and 2nd Royal Guards had left Buckminster to go on their merry raiding spree through Dieron, he had not made any moves to try and reclaim the former Prefecture capital, but had stayed very still indeed. Caught between the Lyrans on one side, the Davions on the other and Pesht on the third, he was clearly in no hurry to waste his limited forces or leave himself open to being stabbed in the back.Content for now to bide his time and prepare however he could.
Much like the Warlord of Dieron, Vasily Cherenkoff. A man who was keeping me awake an awful lot these nights.
Northwind was within jump range of Dieron and the units there - along with another four planets along the Federated Suns border that also held Battlemech regiments at the ready - were a constant worry to me. The remains of the 2nd Sword of Light had retreated to Dieron after Roman Steiner beat them like a drum and they had wasted no time in reassigning three companies of Mechwarriors from the 5th Sword of Light to their own unit - hopefully to the considerable anger of Palmer Conti - to bring them back up to something closer to half a line regiment.
Yet neither Sword of Light unit had done anything since then. Which was worrying. But if anything was going to lure them out, surely Melissa Steiner carrying Hanse Davions unborn child-
A loud and obnoxious alarm screamed and I half jumped out of my seat before relaxing, recognizing it belatedly as a simple alarm clock -rather than a planetary invasion alarm- on my noteputer. I picked it up and killed the alarm before perking up considerably from my worrying as I saw the time.
Hells yes!
Happily pushing worries about all the DCMS units within one jump of Northwind to the side, I gathered all the classified contents I had scattered around and returned them to the annoyingly heavy armoured briefcase. I triple checked everything was accounted for (knowing the spooks would rightly crucify me if I was missing even a single piece of paper) before strolling down and out of the building and up through the quite stunning upper grounds of the Ducal family estate as the sun slowly set on the horizon. I arrived soon enough at the non-descript (but heavily guarded) building the DMI advanced team had taken up residence in and signed the case back in, knowing the efficient gophers would deliver the contents where I had directed on their cover sheets, quick smart.
And with that done, I was now officially and finally ‘at liberty’ for the rest of the night.
Some of the dropship crew I had befriended on the trip (many of whom had been clearly confused why I was geeking the ****** out at being shown an operational fusion rocket when I had badgered them into giving me a tour of the ships engineering spaces) had been stationed on Northwind before. And they knew some great local spots in Tara they were very happy to invite me to tag along to, so one change of clothes and-
I froze as I arrived back at my room, finding a servant waiting there. Who, with a smile, handed me a large suit bag carrying an AFFS Mess-Dress uniform.
I had not packed this. My Dress Uniform, sure. Not my Mess Dress uniform…
And then as I was staring at this in confusion, the man dared to hand me an envelope … the handwriting with my name and rank on the outside recognizable instantly as that of Melissa Steiner and it clicked.
"Doh!"
-
Seriously, how did I not see this coming?
My presence on this whole ‘road trip’ was, primarily, justified as getting a crash course in how to be an Inner Sphere Noble.
Or at least how to act enough like one to fool people at a glance.
So why did I think Melissa Steiner was going to let me slip out of probably one of the biggest events and concentration of nobility that would take place in this entire trip?
Especially if she had to suffer through these events and didn’t get to join me hitting the town for the best Korean BBQ on offer?
Even more so after I had just promised to always have her back.
Answer; I thought it because I was a friggin idiot. That’s why.
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The dark green Mess Dress uniform fit annoyingly perfectly - a downside to engaging the tailors in the Davion palace for your uniforms I suppose - and my biggest problem was trying to not let my spurs catch on anything or dig into the poor car's upholstery that was currently delivering me to the party. It wasn’t a long trip though; the event was being held in the main castle of the Ducal Estate, a building known - very creatively - as ‘The First Keep’. Apparently, it was the original castle Clan Stuart had built when they had settled Northwind all those centuries ago and while I wouldn’t be so crass as to call them plagiarists to their faces, said keep looked an awful lot like Edinburgh castle on Earth.
Or, to be more specific, it looked an awful lot like how Edinburgh Castle on Terra used to look before the Fat Man had ordered it levelled out of spite at over much damage the Royal Black Watch had done in their legendary last stand at Unity City.
Regardless, in accordance with Parkinson's Law, the planetary administration had expanded to fill more and more space to the point that what had been a single castle was now just one of dozens of impressive stone buildings that amounted to a small, walled, town. The First Keep had eventually been fully transitioned into the private resistance of the Ducal family itself, where Melissa was staying, as an honoured guest - while I was billeted in the almost hotel-like ‘Stewart House’ down the road with most of the rest of her party.
I had pointed out that I could just walk to the party - and it was a crisp but pleasant night for a stroll, but the servants had looked at me like I was a barbarian for even suggesting it and not quite shoved me in the back of a car. And so I was - quite ridiculously I think - driven out of a side gate of the estate … only to loop around a perimeter road to the main driveway and join the queue of VIP Hoverlimos and cars heading into the castle.
Well if nothing else, we didn’t have to go through the outer-perimeter security screening where invitations were double checked against lists, sniffer dogs and sensors run over the vehicles and party crashers politely turned away (with the pair of bugmechs at the checkpoint in their finest dress paint silently making it clear that trying to gatecrash would be a bad idea). And so we wound our way through the interior roads to finally pull into a kind of large turning circle just outside the First Keep where the guests were disembarking. The trip did give me time to centre myself by the time we pulled up as a footman opened the door. I thanked the driver who tipped his hat to me silently before I alighted, nodding also my thanks to the footman as he closed the door behind me and let the car fly off into the distance as more continued to pull in, suddenly feeling like part of an infantry squad inserted by VTOL onto hostile ground...
Alright then John. Infiltration phase. Mission ... start.
Entering the castle was simplicity itself. I simply went with the flow, a small fish flirting around the big schools of people happily merging and splitting off in a dance of political chattering. I was ignored by all - not rudely or anything; just a small fish of no import as far as they were concerned. The majority of men and women were wearing what I thought was some kind of 31st century Scottish formal wear, with a few military-style uniforms in the mix I didn’t recognize and guessed were local militia or something.
Oh and a lot of the ladies were also doing that whole face paint deal.
Well if nothing else, I supposed in an emergency the paint would be fantastic conversation starters for someone like me who was almost certainly an offworlder. Albeit, no-one here still had anything on the WTF level of dress and design people had been walking around in at the Archons Christmas party all those years ago…
Still, no-one gave me even a second glance at my AFFS dress uniform, so I clearly wasn’t out of place wearing it. A line of security people were at the wide gate we were being directed towards, patiently checking everyone's invitations. After passing the outer perimeter, I was shuffled into one of a number of lines that led into a security check that was both efficient and though - and I congratulated myself for leaving the damn sword that had come with my uniform back in my room as I saw other people having to give up their own ceremonial blades at this point. And with my credentials confirmed I was released to walk out of this waiting room into ...
Oh. Another waiting room! Super!
One whole length of this room was given to a long line of full length mirrors, in front of which people were fussing with their clothes. Incessantly picking off invisible flakes of lint or redoing bowties with a constant line of what sounded like Scottish profanity. The opposite side of the room was filled with a double line of vanity tables with mirrors and lights that a great many ladies were using to triple check their makeup, all with a great deal of energy and activity; people seemed to be very concerned about looking their best before proceeding from here with servants running in every direction at high speed. Often in hot pursuit of the children of the VIPs who were also running everywhere at high speed. A lot of kids in fact - far too many to sit at the places we had available...well this would be interesting.
And boy, it was loud in here.
The stone walls locked the noise in and that only encouraged people to yell over the din at other people in a feedback look as I edged my way through the crowds - with a little difficulty at times. Almost all the guests must have arrived by now, given how full the room was with the largest concentration of people clustered around people I suspected were the clan elders of Northwind given the very impressive fly plaids and other bling they were wearing. Edging away from that part of the room I glanced around for a chair to take and found they were mostly occupied … ah! At the far corner of the room! Perfect!
I threaded my way through the crowd and servants zipping in every direction and carefully sat down in the chair - having learned the hard way from getting into the car about ‘flopping’ while wearing what amounted to a light breastplate. The chair was surprisingly comfortable and I sighed as I closed my eyes and considered the minimum four hours ahead of me-
“Ur a Mechwarrior, right?”
I opened my eyes again.
There was a group of children standing in front of me. Most looking to be on the cusp of their teenage years, but not quite there yet and one older girl who was probably about fourteen.
All looking utterly adorable in kids sized formal garb including mini tuxedos, mini kilts and mini dresses.
In the vanguard were two girls, obviously sisters, who were wearing absolutely adorable dresses of the same cut but wildly different colour schemes that just worked in a kinda ying/yang way. And it was the one in a brown and green colouring, hands on her hips and looking incredibly precocious, who had asked that question, I think.
“What makes you say that?” I asked as I sat up and she didn’t quite roll her eyes as she pointed at my shoes.
“Cause ‘you’re wearing spurs. Duh!” she said, sounding just a little smug and triumphant at her impeccable logic.
“AND” her sister immediately jumped in, stabbing an arm to point at my shoulder and the rank insignia there, “red means Mech!”
“Well spotted, so I suppose I must be a Mechwarrior” I admitted and there was a bit of excited chattering and whispering among themselves for a second before one of the other kids put up his hand like this was a frigen classroom and I couldn’t help the twitch of a smile on the corner of my mouth that came onto my face as I gave him a nod.
“What unit is that!” he didn’t quite shout, pointing at my shoulder - and there was a mumble of interest from the kids as they all leaned in to look.
I glanced that way and shifted my sleeve to bring it out so everyone could see the patch there. It was a Federated Suns Sunburst in orange, with a planet in eclipse off to the side with just enough detail to recognise it as New Avalon. The entire patch was ringed with a Steiner blue border laced with gold, all in all making it stand out quite sharply from the dark Davion Green of the dress uniform.
“This is the patch of the Swordsworn - the Davion Honor Guard'' I explained and I couldn’t help the genuine pride for the unit patch which Morgan and I had designed based on my recollections of that unit in the Jihad.
I didn’t remember much about them other than the name and insignia mind you, but the name and patch had really gotten stuck into Morgans head for some reason and he had taken it for the Honour Guard to rally to, adding the Steiner-blue border after Melissa’s own honour guard had been attached on New Avalon to fight alongside them.
Everyone loved it.
So much so that the unit's soldiers had started to replace their own unit patches with this one while I was happily snoring away the immediate aftermath of the battle. Identifying them not simply as Davion Guardsmen or Royal Guardsmen, but Swordsworn who had fought in the battle on New Avalon itself. Which was a rather unique claim to history.
Of course, as the Swordsworn were only a temporary unit made up of detachments from line RCTs, AFFS regulations flatly said that that was a big no-no. But on the other hand, ‘The First Prince of the Federated Suns says we can’ was also universally considered an acceptable reason to ignore said regulations.
And besides, it didn’t really feel right to me to wear the insignia of the 1st Davion Guards. Administratively assigned to them or not, I hadn’t even served a single day with the RCT outside the Mechwarriors in the unit I had introduced myself to awkwardly in the days before the battle - and I doubt Marshal Stephen Davion had even heard of me before New Avalon-
“Who are they?” one of the children asked in confusion and I started to open my mouth to reply before one of the other kids whirled on him.
“Gab! They’re the ones who killed Yorinaga Kurita on New Avalon!” he said with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes.
There was a bit of an ‘ohhhh!’ from the crowd at that and the second of the twins leaned forward in excitement.
“You fought in that battle?!” she asked eagerly.
“I did” I admitted, suppressing the almost reflexive flash back to that day.
“Do you have the Battle ROM?” one of the kids blurted out, causing the rest to make excited noises of agreement. “Can we watch it?! Please?”
I had to work my mouth for a second at that one as I opened it, then closed it … then opened it again.
“Ah, I don’t have it on me right now I’m sorry” I finally apologised, taken aback at the idea of showing gun camera battle footage to children!
Seriously, why did they look so eager!!??
“And besides, I’m pretty sure it’s still classified,” I added quickly when I felt that wouldn’t be enough to discourage them.
There was a groan of disappointment from the group as if I had just called off Christmas or something and yet they still pressed forward talking over each other and asking all manner of questions about the battle that I sure as hell didn’t want to answer - and to my horror, my name seemed to be coming up an awful lot because they seemed convinced I had to know John Smith-
And then they suddenly went silent, as if a switch had been thrown. Looking to the side with a bunch of ‘oh crap’ looks across their faces. I followed their gaze -
I mean she didn’t really look like the legendary Dame Maggie Smith. But the sheer presence and disapproval blasting from her gaze added to the somewhat severe green robes only missing a witches hat made me for a split second think that Minerva McGonagall had just entered this room in the Castle … and was ‘unimpressed’ with what she had found.
“Well. I do hope you are cognizant of this most serious lapse in judgement Miss Haggan” the older woman said towards the eldest of the children, giving her a look that could have made a Stone Rhino stop dead and sort of look at its massive feet in embarrassment, let alone a twelve year old kid. “I believe you were supposed to be keeping these children with the others in the ballroom, not trying to sneak into an event you were expressly told you were not attending and accosting the guests!” she said, with a sharp gesture at me.
“I...I’m sorry Miss McNeill” the eldest of the group stuttered out. “It’s just that, well, we, I-”
“You appear to be under the misunderstanding that this was an invitation to try and justify your actions Miss Haggan. Do not make that error again” the older woman cut her off flatly and showing some wisdom, the young Miss Haggan’s jaw clicked shut. “Now all of you, back with others. Come, quickly now” she insisted and with only minimum fussing, the group shuffled off down to a nearby door, watched carefully all the way by the woman until they had vanished and her expression eased up.
A very small amount.
“My apologies Lieutenant” she said turning back to face me and I waved it away as I stood up.
“None required - they were just being kids” I said, trying to dismiss it gently - and got a harsh frown directed my way.
“This is neither the time nor place for that'' she said, just a little sharply, almost to the point of being prim and shocked that I would excuse their behaviour. “Not with the Archon-Designate arriving shortly! If you will excuse me” she said and without saying anything else, she spun and stalked after the children.
I didn’t know if I should be amused or afraid of her as she left the room, just feeling glad that I wasn’t sitting at the kiddy table tonight.
-
*
***
******
***
*
Okay, I was clearly sitting at the kiddy table tonight.
I mean not literally; the children of the VIPs were safely locked up in whatever part of the castle they were being stored for the night while their parents drained the castle's wine cellar. No-one under the age of 18 was allowed into this event by standard rules that seemed to be fully enforced here.
But it was clear there was an ‘A’ group and a ‘B’ group … and I was very definitely in the ‘B’ group.
The ‘A’ group of VIPs had been rounded up by a very very loud man with the title of ‘Chief Page of the Duke’ (who I suspected was a former NCO with that kind of volume control). This group included the Clan Elders (who almost all held the noble rank of a Count), their Barons (each Clan Head seemed to only have two or three on this planet as opposed to the dozens under every Count on New Avalon) and a handful of other people apparently important enough to be sent into the formal receiving line. All up about ninety or a hundred people, when you include their spouse’s and heirs, who would get the enormous honour to shake Melissa Steiner’s hand as well as the Duke and Mayor of Tara City in front of the cameras. And after doing so, they’d join us here in the … waiting … courtyard, I suppose?
There really seemed to be an awful lot of standing around and waiting I had noticed so far. On the other hand it was a fully catered waiting courtyard with fresh air making it considerably quieter, so at least there was that to it.!
Swiping a flute of champagne in passing from a servants tray, I followed the bulk of the group outside and wandered, glancing and sipping as I took in the lay of the land. It was a nice little cobblestone square I suppose, with three walls extending out from the side of the castle itself. Many small groups of people were rapidly forming and chatting; all the kind of social activity you would expect taking place - all of which I had neither reason nor interest in engaging with - and a second gate which I supposed the ‘real’ VIPs were entering from after shaking lots of hands in front of the vids, given the bling they were wearing.
Still, I thought as I sipped my champagne and found the vintage pleasantly good, I should be perfectly safe here. After all, no-one was just going to come up to me and-
“Ah, Lieutenant Smith I presume?” a voice called behind me lightly.
And once again, I learned the cost of taunting Murphy.
Thankfully, facing away from said voice, I had time to swallow the sip of the drink I had just taken and set myself, going through the half second mental exercises Kym Sornoson had painstakingly taught me to centre myself in these kinds of events. Putting my best fake smile on my face, as ready as I could be for this, I turned-
The fact that I didn’t crack the crystal champagne flute into a shiv and then thrust it as hard as I could through the side of her neck was, I think, the single greatest moment of self control I had exercised in my entire time in this universe.
“I am John Smith, yes” I acknowledged the woman before me with a polite calmness (that I frankly found astonishing I was able to pull off) as I tilted my head with my best ‘polite interest’ expression, trying to ignore the very distinct feeling that Shoulder Consequences had popped up and was furiously trying to Force Choke this woman - alas, without much success. “Can I help you, Miss…”
“Waterly. Precentor Myndo Waterly of the ComStar First Circuit” The Devil answered with a smile as she stepped casually closer towards me. My skin feeling like it was trying to pool around to my back to get as far from her as possible. “Yes, I thought it was you, the hero of New Avalon in the flesh, so to speak.”
“There were a great many Heroes on New Avalon, Precentor” I parried somewhat automatically before taking a deep breath. Or trying to, but instead having to glance away and clear my throat with a cough behind a fist, finding it had swollen up with bile or something as my heart thudded before I painfully bit my lip behind the cover to ride the sharp stab of pain, bringing focus back.
This was a scenario not exactly envisioned by MIIO and Quinus Allard. But, Kym Sorenson had drilled me repeatedly on what to do in these kinds of situations after I had frozen at the NAIS in front of yet another ComStar Precentor…
Tactic - go for a drink or food or find any excuse to break the rhythm and progress of the conversation if you need time to compose yourself. Don’t let them dictate it from the outset.
“Apologies” I said after a second with a smile, noisily clearing my throat. “A bit of my champagne went down the wrong way. Could I get you a drink?” I asked with a gesture at a servant passing close by.
“Ah, no, thank you Mister Smith, but it was kind of you to ask,'' she demurred easily and not wasting a second, I turned away to the server to swap my empty flute for a glass of chilled water. Taking a not quite gulp to try and clear the throat while glaring at my hand as it trembled slightly with the water, not wanting to spill it all down my dress uniform.
Although on reflection I decided to keep that in reserve; it would make a quick excuse to disengage and go and hide in the mens room or something…
“A true shame about the events on New Avalon” Myndo continued her line of thought, undaunted by my actions as I turned back to face her. “As the Blessed Blake foretold with the fall of the Star League; war would rage. So many young bright people with so much potential lost in the futility of war for so many generations. And the damage to the NAIS? Tragic, truly. Hanse Davions grand dream of rebuilding the Inner Sphere, in his image, dealt such a harsh setback, almost destroyed and burned to the ground...”
Okay. First impressions; clearly Precentor Myndo Waterly didn’t engage in public speaking outside of the ComStar order very often. Her words were sort-of regretful in a backhanded way … but clearly the thought of NAIS burning was leading to hints of her O face-
Oh God, GET THAT IMAGE OUT OF MY MIND-
“Yes. A shame indeed that the Draconis Combine shows - again - that it’s perfectly willing to sink back into the worst of the first two Succession Wars and destroy mankind's best hope of climbing out of said darkness out of sheer spite” I replied, seizing my emotions against this woman and channelling them into what I hoped she would take as a raw hatred for the Draconis Combine…
“You think the NAIS was the best hope for mankind?” she asked with a tilt of her head, clearly fighting off her need to throw polite and scornful amusement at that idea.
“For recovering so much of what we have lost? Yes” I confirmed with a sharp nod of my head, choosing my words carefully. “Three quarters of the institute is - was - dedicated to things like rediscovering things like the Star Leagues medical technology, terraforming technology and the like. Why, there was even a prototype for a mass production example of a water purification system that could finally, finally, start to address the lack of something as basic as clean water on far too many Inner Sphere worlds. Billions of people could have had their lives measurably improved with this technology” I said, letting my voice trail off as I focused my gaze distantly onto the far wall.
One mississippi, two mississippi…
“And it was lost?” Myndo prodded, her tone intent.
“Along with a great many other innovations, yes” I lied, making a little show of taking and letting out a deep breath as if I needed to calm myself (and I did, really), clenching my free hand into a fist just to make sure, taking the pain of my nails and clinging to it to focus as I turned my gaze back to her.
This was not a game.
This was as real as it got and I needed to be incredibly ****** careful with my words … while not looking like I was being incredibly ****** careful with my words.
So. You know; Fly Casual!
“It was a damn stupid error by the people in charge” I ground out. “Everyone keeps saying that no-one could have expected the so-called ‘honourable’” and I didn’t quite spit that word out, “Yorinaga Kurita would unleash his men with orders to burn everything to the ground. So no-one bloody bothered to move or even back up much of the-” I broke off then, glancing around and trying for my best sheepish sort of expression. “Of course, I can’t really talk about that” I added lamley, as if just realising I was talking about things I shouldn’t talk about.
“ComStar is firmly neutral in these conflicts with the Great Houses…” Myndo pointed out kindly, but her eyes were dancing at the information I had just let ‘slip’; looking very much like a woman who had just been let in on the secret that Christmas was coming early this year but trying desperately not to let anyone else know.
Yeah, she really didn’t do much work in public did she? I suppose that made sense given how often she completely lost control of her emotions in the books even in front of her peers…
“...but your secrets are safe with me” she finished with a conspiratorial wink that seemed to me edged with a hint that she now had a hold over me for giving her data I really should not have as she stepped closer. “And perhaps, if you indulge a ComStar Precentor her curiosity of the Inner Sphere she rarely sees, would you share with me the story of your trip to Helm and the Star League cache there?”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help the full body twitch that occurred at that word as she moved into far more dangerous territory. And I knew from the way her smile broadened that she had caught it too as she stepped yet closer, dropping her voice in volume but spearing me with her gaze as I forced my head to incline slightly in an unasked question and prompted, she pushed on, her eyes so utterly focused they could have been used as laser lenses…
“A full cache of the lost Star League itself? It is the kind of story I have dreamed about hearing all my years of service in ComStar! One of our goals is - as I am sure you well know Mister Smith - to seek out and save technology of the Star League, to hold it for all mankind and the day we finally might drag ourselves from the abyss we hover over. And I’ve heard so many tall tales in the media, but to hear it from someone who was there? That would make a poor closited Precentor's heart warm on this cold night if you could tell me all about it.”
Her tone, despite her words, was not that of a harmless woman trying for a story - it was a command of someone who would not be denied and it was a fight to keep my face neutral as my heart thumped so loudly I was astonished she didn’t hear it at this range.
That ComStar knew I had been involved in Helm wasn’t surprising. I had, after all, first publicly appeared on Tharkad with the group of Davions who had come from Helm.
ROM were neither blind nor idiots. And while it was incredibly unlikely they suspected me of being the mastermind, a nobody hanging with the most VIPs of VIPs after such a mission was a bit of a red flag in hindsight…
And this woman had led in with the whole ‘hero of New Avalon’ thing, seemingly entirely to build up some kind of rapport - and then pivoted into pumpking me for information about the Helm operation.
Clever girl…
“Well, there isn’t much to tell really” I said with as casual and uninterested shrug as I could make, taking another long sip of my water and silently trying to will my sweat glands to cut out that shit under the heavy jacket (but suddenly grateful that the half breastplate would hide any sweat stains). “We got in, looted the place and got out. Most of the time I was just helping load up Star League era infantry kits into a dropship - and let me tell you” I said with a bit of a chuckle and shake of my head that I hoped didn't sound forced; “those things are bloody heavy!”
She didn’t laugh.
Instead, Myndos head lifted slightly and I got the feeling she didn’t close the distance more only because she was already just inside my personal space and it might have been taken as a threat and risked me shutting up or getting annoyed.
But her smile mutated to a more chilling sort of smirk, her entire air and attitude making me think suddenly of the Borg Queen. The sheer utterly self assured power in her stance and gaze completely at odds with her previous attempts to present herself and ComStar as mere humble servants and someone just interested in casual conversation…
This was a woman who had power, wanted answers and was very determined to get them.
“It’s fascinating, Mister Smith” she said softly, her eyes glittering, “that you so fiercely condemn the Draconis Combine for destroying the NAIS, but you seem to hold little concern for your actions in obliterating one the greatest possible discoveries of the Star League since its fall.”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that” I lied through my teeth, scowling a little. Careful, careful, wait for it I told myself as I saw a sudden opportunity, an escape hatch, in this moment…
“Personally, perhaps, perhaps not” she said without breaking her laser focused stare at me, tilting her head slightly in judgement as she clasped her hands out from underneath her robes together in front of her. “But House Davion and House Steiner share the blame. This wanton destruction - indeed, sacrilegious desecration of such a vast treasure of the Star League! Is not destroying that far more terrible an act by the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth, then an attack, during a time of war, on something that can be rebuilt given time-”
“No-one wanted Helm to blow up!” I snapped at her in a sudden outburst, more of a hiss than anything that had her take a step back as I shifted closer to her suddenly, trying to put my best ‘controlled rage’ expression onto my face (which really wasn’t hard when dealing with this woman as I simply had to let some of my real emotions crack through, letting the tension pour out into my words). “Gods above, what we lost-” I cut myself off then, taking a deep breath and glancing around, catching the fact that a few people were trying not to look at us while looking at us as I cleared my throat noisily and stepped back.
Nice. Now, just bring it home John. Nice and easy…
“Forgive me Precentor, that was … impolite” I said in a slightly stiff voice. “Suffice to say, I’m still under orders to not talk about anything that happened on Helm so I’m afraid I’ll have to leave it there” I apologised with everything about my body language screaming that I was not going to say anything more. And after a moment, Myndos whole bearing melted back into the friendly ComStar Precentor as if she had been that all along.
But with just a hint of smug satisfaction in her face now.
Or was I just projecting?
“Of course - and I too apologise, I do not intend to get you in any trouble or stir up harsh memories” she offered me a tiny little contrite bow that didn’t quite mask her words. Which seemed to be chosen to remind me I had given her information I shouldn’t have. A fact she could very well hold over me…
And truth be told I didn’t know if Quintus and Simon would give me a punch in the face or a commendation in my files once they read my contact report on this little encounter.
Probably both. Hell, they’ll probably flip a coin for who gets to do which.
But. If Myndo Waterly herself thought she had strong evidence from a primary source that the Helm core had been blown sky high from a bungled attempt to remove it…
“I’m sure not” I agreed, glancing away for a second as the last of the crowd of the B party dribbled in and the doors to the waiting area were closed off with a loud thud even as the steady stream of people from the receiving line door continued to filter in. “So, if I may be so bold as to ask, what would bring such a senior member of the ComStar order to our little party?”
She looked pleased that I had asked this, which suggested to me I shouldn’t have done so.
“I come” she puffed up a little, “in service of peace.”
I stared at her and dismissed the first words that tried to jump out of my mouth.
“Well you might want to leave now then” I suggested in a deadpan tone, “because when enough Scotts in close proximity get enough booze into them, things can turn very interesting, very quickly.”
Precentor Myndo Waterly … actually laughed at that.
Shockingly it seemed that she had enjoyed that as a joke … rather than taking it as the helpful suggestion for her to leave as I had intended.
The idea that she had a sense of humour was … just wrong somehow.
“Droll Mister Smith. Very droll. But my goal is to engage with Lady Steiner. To try and convince her to engage with our mediation teams and work towards an immediate ceasefire on behalf of her husband and mother. After all, would it not be the greatest gift she could give to her child to bring them into an Inner Sphere at peace?”
“It would be a great gift indeed” I agreed, earning a beatific smile back at my apparent agreement. “Presuming of course” I added in a rather more sarcastic tone, “they don’t get kidnapped on their 18th Birthday and replaced by a body double out to usurp their throne. Or have their capital invaded. Or just an outright kidnapping attempt, trying to take her to Luthin as a ‘guest’ of the Coordinator or, you know, something like that which seems to be all the rage in the enemies of the Federated Commonwealth states right now.”
There was just the smallest flicker in her bearing at that and I felt a renewed surge of energy at her focus on me - and I mentally kicked myself in the balls for going there in a fit of nervous pique.
One of these days I’d learn to stop reflexively snarking in defence using knowledge only I had, when pushed into a corner. Of all the things to ****** mention…
In the original timeline it had been this woman who had ‘accidently’ let it slip to the Draconis Combine, the critical data point that led the ISF to extrapolate Melissa’s presence on the Silver Eagle. Resulting in the ISF and DCMS sending a force to try and kidnap her. Waterly had been rebuked by the Primus for her actions - at least in the original timeline- given that they had come incredibly close to revealing ComStars active hand in Inner Sphere matters to the Combine. But, she had managed to slip out of any further punishment thanks to sprouting enough Blakist doctrine at the First Circuit to get them to give her a pass.
Presumably she had done much the same this time around too given that the Combine had once again tried to grab the Silver Eagle…
“You don’t particularly like me, Mister Smith, do you?” she asked with a kind of knowing half smile that put me right on the edge of holding my composure, tilting her head at me in thought as my heart pounded. “I must confess I do wonder why. Or is it the ComStar Order that you are not happy with, pray tell?”
Well Myndo just returned my serve with one hell of a backhand, I’d grant her that.
Luckily for me, I had a rather vicious forehand waiting at the base line.
“My opinion of the order dropped somewhat” I admitted, looking her dead in the eye, “after you tried to order all the Mercs that the Combine were trying their very best to murder into binding arbitration so the Combine could keep killing them.”
That wiped the almost smirk of her face in an instant and I had to really fight the urge to put one on mine.
Game-Set-Smith, ******…
One of the more interesting butterflies I had -somehow- set it motion was that Takashi Kuritas infamous ‘Death to Mercenaries' order had been supercharged far beyond anything seen in the original timeline. There, it had been, at least in theory, directed against Wolf’s Dragoons after Jamie Wolf openly challenged Takashi at the Steiner-Davion wedding. It had spilled over to plenty of other units - and the ‘wink and nudge’ approval of executing captured Mercs on the spot rather than bothering with even the pretence of a trial had been clearly shown - which had helped to slowly dry up Mercs as a source of troops for the Combine until the Clan Invasion era.
But in this timeline?
Here it had exploded into a complete ****** [/I]for the Combine, seemingly out of control of the senior leadership. Even before the 4th Succession War had kicked off there had been attacks all over the Combine against ‘gajin’ Merc units, leading to a great many firing off HPG messages to decree they were invoking emergency clauses to GTFO while they could. Which had led to a feedback loop of more and more Merc units being looked at with hostility as the Combine overreacted to the ‘outrageous’ actions and defaulted into atrocity mode in response.
And in the middle of the growing storm, Myndo Waterly had quite firmly stepped in as the most senior ComStar member in the Draconis Combine … and ordered all Merc units under contract to the Combine into emergency arbitration with the Combine, mediated by ComStar.
Now from the (secret) ComStar viewpoint, a whole load of Mercs abandoning the Combine in the middle of a war it was losing to the nascent Federated Commonwealth was clearly unacceptable. But Julian Tipolo was (probably) canny enough to know that any move to step in and salvage the situation would require the most subtle and careful touch…
Oh, never mind; Myndo-Chan decided - seemingly without approval from the First Circuit, again! - to step in on her own and essentially order Merc units fleeing for their lives to turn around to face the people trying to stab them in the face and hug it out…
The end result hadn’t been so much egg on ComStars face as more of a fully loaded Overlord crashing atop Terras reputation in the Merc community.
I mean, Hanse and Katrina knew from me that Myndo Waterly was someone we could really do without and had done everything they practically could to fan the flames, helped I’m very sure by Wolfnet’s best efforts. Across the FedCom and even the FWL, Merc units had made it clear what they thought about ComStars decree loudly, with more than a few Mercs even taking the time to openly protest outside of HPG stations! The ComStar News Bureau had not covered those protests but the Davion and Steiner press had been more than happy to do so (probably prodded from on high) with gleefully snide comments over ComStars information blackout when it came to negative news about them. The newsies clearly relishing ComStars news service doing its best to also trash its reputation as a neutral broker of news…
The Primus had stepped in barely two days later to repudiate the orders and publicly apologise, but the damage had been done. Which led to a rather pressing question; how the ****** had this woman politically survived two major ****** like she had? And still kept her position on the First Circut?
Presently however, Myndo’s face actually flushed a tiny amount as she went right onto the defensive.
“Well, that was a miscalculation-” she tried, but I wasn’t having any of that shit.
“Because come to think of it” I continued over the top of her, tilting my head in sudden thought and reaching up to tap my chin in a slightly over-exaggerated way to get the point across that this wasn’t something I had just come up with; “you’re the Precentor responsible for the Draconis Combine, aren't you? And-” I added with a tilt of my head and the slightest narrowing of my eyes as a thought had just occurred to me, “you’re from the Combine, correct?”
The not quite accusation hung in the air between us, heavily.
“What, may I ask, are you implying, Lieutenant?” she said - managing a civil tone with just a hint of stress on my rather low rank … but oh man, that red shade was deepening now and if her eyes were naval lasers, she’d have vaporised me … and blown a trench clean through the castle complex out the other side of the hill.
“Only that the loyalty of our youth and birth nations can be hard to overcome even in a position as … illustrious … as a member of the First Circuit” I said, shrugging every so slowly even as I held her molten gaze. “And, seeing the Combine being utterly clobbered by the Commonwealth? With all those Mercanaires abandoning it when it needs every Mech it can get its hand on? Well, I could, hypothetically of course, at least understand the temptation to try and find a way to force those Mercs to fall in line…”
The expression on her face was priceless. I really wish I had a camera right now.
Even more for the fact that it was an entirely bullshit accusation that I didn’t actually believe for even a nanosecond. Myndo Waterly was ComStar through and through. A zealot who made the rest of the First Circuit as of now look almost rational. A woman whose belief in the self-appointed ‘divine’ mission of ComStar to bring the word of Blake to all of mankind, was absolute to the point that she quoted Jerome Blake incessantly to justify any and all actions even when engaged with the First Circuit.
Hell, she probably quoted him to justify going to the bloody bathroom.
I knew she saw herself as the greatest student of his works among her peers and, like many zealots, convinced that the prophesied end-times were going to take place in her lifetime, now that she had the power to try and make them take place. While also dismissing many of her peers as nothing more than bureaucrats mouthing the words, with no faith behind them.
At best, she probably saw the Combine as a useful tool to be turned against bigger problems - until it in turn would be broken. Indeed, she had not simply joined ComStar, but had escaped to ComStar after seeing how the ISF dealt with students who set off ‘independent thought alarms’ at university and had become utterly dedicated to ComStars secret vision of the future.
So, accusing her of being a Combine agent, even indirectly? That was helpful in making her think that was the reason I didn’t like her, helpful in infuriating her and stopping her thinking straight … and hilarious because I knew full well she would be grievously insulted by even the very thought that she had any residual loyalty to House Kurita!
She managed to swallow the explosion that I was vaguely disappointed she didn’t give me behind a somewhat terse smile.
“I am ComStar, Mister Smith” she replied - and I idly wondered if in her subconscious mind she actually meant that statement not as defining her allegiance, but that she ‘was the verb’, as TV Tropes used to say. “My place of birth is irrelevant - my loyalty -my only loyalty is to the Blessed Order.”
I let that hang for a second before offering her a shallow nod.
“As you say” I agreed politely, even if my body language was screaming ‘Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!’ In that way it was impossible to call someone out on.
And with absolutely perfect timing, there was a bellowing that dropped into the middle of our locked gaze standoff, allowing me to easily turn away to take in the Chief Page as he took centre stage.
“MY LORDS, MY LADIES, HONOURED GUESTS ALL” he roared. “I PRESENT HER GRACE THE COUNTESS OF CLAYWARREN, PRINCESS-CONSORT OF THE FEDERATED SUNS AND ARCHON DESIGNATE OF THE LYRAN COMMONWEALTH, MELISSA STEINER! I PRESENT HIS EXCELLENCY MICHAEL STUART, THE DUKE OF NORTHWIND AND HIS WIFE, THE LADY STUART!”
Then came a thunder of snares and I glanced up in surprise to see the parapits were lined with what looked like a full sized band including-
The blast of the bagpipes hit me full on and I have to admit I recoiled a little at the volume before joining in with the applause of the crowd, getting hints of Melissa on the arm of the Duke and the Duke's wife on the arm of someone else, starting to walk down the red carpet beyond the group.
“Well it appears that the time has come for dinner” I said, turning back to Myndo Waterly with a friendly smile on my face, sort of shouting to get over the noise in a way that would clearly make further communication impossible before tilting my head slightly. “For what it’s worth, Precentor, I truly do hope that you succeed in your assigned mission to bring peace to the Inner Sphere.”
And I was 100% serious about that. Although strictly speaking, she probably didn’t realise that I defined her mission success as ‘dying in the most utterly humiliating way possible and everyone holding hands around her burning corpse singing Kumbaya’ …
But it was the thought that counted, right?
“If Blake wills it Lieutenant Smith. I truly hope so as well. Good evening” she shouted with as much dignity as she could before turning away and not quite stalking away elsewhere to vanish into the castle, probably to join the A-Listers.
“Better luck next time” I muttered under my breath to Shoulder Consequences as she vanished, distinctly not Forced Choked.
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>SQUEE!<
First!
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Welcome back! Great work as always.
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Great read before work thanks for that.
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Welcome back! :thumbsup:
I'll have to read this tonight after work, though... just not enough time now...
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Was thoroughly enjoying this chapter, and then that encounter with Waterly just put it over the top. Very nice indeed.
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It is back and alive ... very much so.
Oh, how I ENJOYED is update!
:thumbsup:
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Hmmm, I feel like I saw the start of the Myndo bit quite a long time ago-much longer than a year, my goodness! And now, we have almost 20k words to...not quite get into a party :D That's the first four chapters, from weaving out of quantum string to Helm's doorstep, to make it from Northwind flip-over to a fancy party where misinfo is leaked like a sieve. I hope that the Chapter two of this second book can be a little more free of 'as you know' exposition.
Loved the pre-teen squad looking out for the deets though-wonder if we'll see them again.
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Welcome Back, THANK YOU for the delightful update...
I'm surprised at something that wasn't there at the end (talking to Waterly): He didn't mention anything about The Explorer Corps...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUPkQsD2cmQ
Delightful update!!!
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I was getting ready to complain about people necro-posting in this thread, and to save it for updates.
Now I don't think I'm getting any work done before lunch.
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Damn Chris! while it was worth the wait, could we not wait so long next time! ;D
Seriously great stuff, love how John is becoming the big brother to Mel and how he is able to handle Waterly (for the time being at least). He does know that having 'engaged' two of Comstars 'cardinals' or is it ' Politburo members' he will have not only ROM's attention, but perhaps even a ROM agent looking to ensure he as a noble 'does buy that farm!'
Again awesome see this chapter, can't wait for more!
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Damn Chris! while it was worth the wait, could we not wait so long next time! ;D
Seriously great stuff, love how John is becoming the big brother to Mel and how he is able to handle Waterly (for the time being at least). He does know that having 'engaged' two of Comstars 'cardinals' or is it ' Politburo members' he will have not only ROM's attention, but perhaps even a ROM agent looking to ensure he as a noble 'does buy that farm!'
Again awesome see this chapter, can't wait for more!
I would like to point out; we still don't know what Mech is waiting for him. Hopefully he'll have another update where I can finally find out...
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Damn Chris! while it was worth the wait, could we not wait so long next time! ;D
Seriously great stuff, love how John is becoming the big brother to Mel and how he is able to handle Waterly (for the time being at least). He does know that having 'engaged' two of Comstars 'cardinals' or is it ' Politburo members' he will have not only ROM's attention, but perhaps even a ROM agent looking to ensure he as a noble 'does buy that farm!'
Again awesome see this chapter, can't wait for more!
Hope John made sure to bring a small recording device with him, so he can use it for reference when writing up the contact report after the night is over.
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Wow! I'm only sad I had to wait to read the update! FANTASTIC work! :thumbsup:
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hot damn its back... and great work as always.
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(https://media.giphy.com/media/e7PqXgiufdMbgXBltA/giphy-downsized.gif)
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BY THE FOUNDER, YES!!!!!!
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You have been missed. Welcome back. Your story has been one of the best!
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Amazing to see this back, one of the best stories there is, I laughed out loud at the press briefing and how the Nobles reacted :D And of course Mynodo was done PERFECTLY!
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Thanks for another entertaining chapter Chris.
I do have the wonder about the logic of sending Myndo Waterly to start negotiating a peace agreement or to encourage Melissa Steiner to 'engage with Comstar mediation teams', given her misstep with the Death to Mercenaries order and apparent support of the DC should have greatly annoyed both Katrina and Melissa particularly given their close family relationship with the Kell brothers I can't see Hanse, Melissa or Katrina being willing to give her an appointment let alone listen to a word coming from Myndo's mouth.
Perhaps Myndo is trying this approach on her own initiative and trying to bypass the Primus and First Circuit again? The more I think about it, the more illogical I find it for the First Circuit to send her specifically. Lets face it the Combine has a public death order towards people Melissa thinks of as family (Kells), the Combine has not historically done peace agreements or treaties, Myndo has publicly supported the Combine by trying to force mercenaries back into DC service and effectively declared that she isn't neutral. I can't think of anyone less appropriate in the Comstar First Circuit to send if you were actually trying to get Hanse and Katrina to come to the negotiating table. Thomas Marik may well have been a more appropriate individual, despite the Concord of Kapteyn, at least from Comstars perspective.
On the other hand is Tiepolo taking a page from the Kurita handbook? Is this Myndos 'one last chance' to remain a Precentor and member of the First Circuit? Her response to Death to Mercenaries likely shredded a lot of her political support in Comstar itself and probably in the DC as well. It would have been seen in the DC as going against the Will of the Dragon given that order was given by the Coordinator himself and with Takashi comatose he's not in a position to clarify what he wanted. Both the First Circuit and the Combine may be looking for an excuse to remove her. So there is a case for the Primus to send Myndo 'Negotiate peace that is favourable to Comstar, or your next posting will be as a Acolyte in charge of cleaning latrines on Wynn's Roost'.
It could be worse for Myndo if Hanses public berating/response of her response to Death to Mercenaries included additional political threats to Her/Comstar. An example would be Hanses speech including a suggestion that the formation of a properly neutral Mercenary Review Board would be appropriate if the current administrators are unwilling to follow interstellar law or honour contractual clauses which would have further burned Myndo's political capital.
It would be amusing if Melissa threw Myndos actions back in her face. Along the lines of:
"Perhaps Precentor the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth should sponsor the formation of a properly neutral body to monitor the review and employment of mercenary units. Given that Comstar, which you claim to represent and which by your words and actions, is apparently willing to throw its neutrality away and politically support the Draconis Combine by trying to force those mercenaries in the Combines employ to commit suicide by remaining with a nation actively trying to kill them and steal their possessions despite interstellar law supporting those units breaking their contracts as they are genuinely at risk of becoming the victims of another Sendai massacre by direct order of the Coordinator".
I also wouldn't put it past Melissa to suggest that if any mysterious SLDF mechs suddenly appear in the Draconis Combine or Capellan Confederation with little or no explanation then both LC and FS will be looking very closely at Comstar just to discourage Comstar from trying to slip supplies to the DC or CC. Even if without Teddy K, the odds of Ghost Regiments suddenly appearing is very low.
I'd love to see the First Circuits reaction to some of this.
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There's no guarantee the First Circuit actually sent Myndo there at all. It wouldn't be the first time an ambitious Precentor tried to speak for the organization out of turn... 8)
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PRAISE BE TO THE VALAR ON HIGH:
(https://media.tenor.com/SuADVxKkQ-AAAAAC/frankenstein-its-alive.gif)
I got the distinct impression that Smith would cheerfully strangle Myndo Waterly with her own guts and not rpt NOT lose a moment's sleep over it...
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No disagreement here! :D
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...I must confess - I want desperately to know what 'Mech he has waiting for him. Hear that Chris? Send me a PM. I won't tell. :)
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No disagreement here! :D
He could also cut her tongue out with a spoon, because it's dull and it will hurt more...
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He could also cut her tongue out with a spoon, because it's dull and it will hurt more...
:thumbsup: 8)
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Sorry for the thread necro guys. No need to get excited!! But this past week I was on vacation, and reread the entire series so far. It honestly get better everytime you read it! Now I am like a junkie in need of of fix! Anyone know if the the story was has been posted on another site or is the author taking a break due to RL issues? I want more, Daddy needs a fix!
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It was crossposted over to Spacebattles, but there haven't been any update there that haven't also been posted here. But it does support threadmarks, so it's easier to actually read the story.
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I think it just takes time, they are 15,000 or more words. Plus with any project you get tired and want to do ANYTHING else.
I've pestered him a few times over at spacebattles, I suppose you could, too.
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Sorry for the thread necro guys. No need to get excited!! But this past week I was on vacation, and reread the entire series so far. It honestly get better everytime you read it! Now I am like a junkie in need of of fix! Anyone know if the the story was has been posted on another site or is the author taking a break due to RL issues? I want more, Daddy needs a fix!
Chris posts at his own rate. If you need a Battletech fix in the meantime, trying reading the Heir to the Bruce saga on Spacebattles, or exploring Cannonshop's Ngoverse.
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Another good story is “Welcome to the Jungle” from Speaker4thesilent. It is on Sietch<spelling>. He moved it from SB because they did not like his world building using space- feudalism.
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Another good story is “Welcome to the Jungle” from Speaker4thesilent. It is on Sietch<spelling>. He moved it from SB because they did not like his world building using space- feudalism.
Or, perhaps more accurately, his political and religious soap-boxing, which would undoubtedly keep it from this site as well, for violating local rules, too, followed by follow-up behavior towards the mod actions. But this probably isn't the thread to discuss that further.
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Another excellent option is Drakensis' "Davion and Davion (Deceased)"... I re-read that one periodically now that I have it downloaded as a pdf... :)
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Or the Cameron Legacy- Kurita & Kerensky
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Read both of those and they are awesome works.
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Basically anything by Drakensis is an automatic recommendation.
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True that! :)
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Basically anything by Drakensis is an automatic recommendation.
State of the union had a rather abrupt change in story type at the end of book one. Went from manic-pixie-dreamgirl buddy teamup to a clanstomp fic in a way that was rather jarring.
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alright, i just finished binging this on SB and have thoroughly enjoyed it, typos and all. Can't wait for more of it
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Sooooooo
Been a while, lets dig out the Star League cache and put this back to work again, shall we?
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Book 2 Chapter 2: Northwind II
After Myndo had gone off to join with the VIPs inside the castle, I had managed to centre myself back to a more or less calm state.
Eventually.
It would have been helpful if I could go into a bathroom to try and remove the sweat under my uniform. Or even just sit down and try to flush the adrenaline that had flooded into my body and was still giving me the shakes...but at the same time, I knew it was critical to not seem like I had been rattled. Just in case she was keeping an eye on me.
Not that there was any question mind you, that I was rattled as hell.
I had not gotten myself mentally and physically ready for tonight thinking I'd turn around and find myself face to face with The Devil. And I was already dreading the contact report I was going to have to write about this evening once the shindig was over.
Still, the fifteen minutes or so it took for the crowd outside to shuffle inside after the guests of honour and take their seats gave me time to pull myself together and snap out of it, warily glancing around in case that woman had tried to sneak up on me again. Happily, I saw quickly that she was sitting down at the High table that ran across the front of the room - given her rank, there really wasn't anywhere else she could be seated. Where I was sitting in the middle of three tables that ran down the long part of the room - and about halfway down it to boot.
So at least I wouldn't have to make polite dinner conversation with her. Thank God for that.
But I did get to make polite dinner conversation with the most … fascinating … group of people …
Which also meant I was at ground zero when they decided to share that fascination with the rest of the party…
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Tara didn't host permanent official ambassadors from any other powers. After all, Northwind wasn't a Great House capital or regional sub-capital worthy of such attention.
But for centuries before, during and after the Star League, Northwind had been something of a major trading route crossroads - and still served as a hub for a lot of cross-border activity. So, naturally, there was always a need to facilitate intra-house contacts even if just for the official - and often grey-market - business that carried on even through the long drawn out 3rd Succession War. And as lower level members of the aristocracy were often on the ground dealing with such business, they were turned to as a matter of course to serve as sort of de-facto Ambassadors from their rulers court to the local Government as-needed.
Now, this was no formal assignment. They didn't hold diplomatic immunity, royal warrants or anything like that. But, at formal events like this, they were invited along and accorded significant respect. Considered something of an indirect channel back into their rulers Courts at the very least - and were often commissioned by their rulers to take point on this or that specific issue after a HPG back and forth. And for some reason, I had been placed this evening with these people. Who all seemed pretty chill and mostly just delighted that they happened to be in the right place at the right time to get an invite to this shindig.
With one exception however.
One of these people however was different from that crowd. He was an honest-to-god ambassador from a foreign power; extraordinary and plenipotentiary with the credentials to prove it.
I knew this fact because I had seen him on the guest list the day before … and to my genuine surprise when I sat down, I had found myself sitting next to him, when by all protocol he should have been up on the High Table with the most VIP of VIPs.
I had initially suspected the placement may have been some kind of insult to the man and nation he represented. Putting him down here with the non-accredited diplomats and all that. However, he had clarified (to my delicately phrased questions along that line) that he had in fact requested to sit down here with the other 'Ambassadors' to keep a somewhat lower profile than one might expect. And the Lady Steiner had gracefully acquiesced - and put me in the seat right next to him.
Initially I had added it to the (lengthening) list of things I was going to have to talk to Melissa about. But in hindsight, I had to admit that perhaps I actually owed her one by putting me next to a man who had gotten my undivided attention.
Because The Ambassador in question wasn't from the Inner Sphere.
He was the Emir (or Duke) of Guldra. The head of House Madeira; Lord Alexander Madeira of the Arano Coalition, representative extraordinary and plenipotentiary of the Lady Kamea Arano, 'High Lady and Countess of Coromodir'.
Bit of a mouthful, but all the more interesting to me - because he should not exist!
The Arano Coalition was a small Periphery state that had only been planned to be introduced into the Battletech universe around the time I had been sucked into this reality. In an upcoming video game, one produced by Jordan Wiseman himself with the backing of Catalyst … but it had still seemed highly unlikely to be made canon. Especially given the problems of integrating it into the future timelines without enormous numbers of retcons given its location.
And yet? Here sat the very Ambassador to the Aurigan Coalition. On invitation from Melissa Steiner no less.
The metaphysical implications alone were strongly suggesting that I should reach for the wine.
On the other hand, I was still shaken enough from my earlier encounter with The Devil that I wasn't that tempted to get on the booze. More than a little afraid of the possibility of another encounter with the Honourable Precentor of Dieron where I would need my wits fully deployed and engaged.
So I just rolled with it and put bigger questions around 'me' to the side for now. And, if nothing else, his Excellency the Emir was a fine conversationalist and all too happy to chat about his nation - and on why he was here.
According to Alexander, he was on something of a mission of mercy. Specifically; he was on the way to the NAIS to get advanced medical treatment for some long term health issues inflicted upon him by a rather disagreeable woman named Victoria Espinosa, along with another two hundred former prisoners from a hellhole named the 'Icebox' on a planet named Weldry, all consequences of the short but surprisingly brutal little civil war the region had undergone a few years back. All the people chosen had medical issues that needed the kind of advanced reconstruction and rehabilitation support that could only be found at a couple of places in the Inner Sphere. And out of the goddess of his heart, Hanse Davion was throwing open the doors of the NAIS to them to provide said help to the poor people of the Periphery.
He said all of this with a perfect straight face … but I called bullshit on that story.
Well, silently in my head anyway.
It would have been terribly impolite and undiplomatic to do so to his face.
His story didn't make sense. For one thing, despite the recent attack, NAIS still had huge security and access controls in place. You didn't just invite foreign people in like it was hosting a garden party. And even putting security aside for the wounded; there were hard capacity limits that were already under a lot of strain. The College of Medical Sciences (and the dozen affiliate hospitals spread through the Golden Five where most wounded 'sent to the NAIS' actually ended up at for treatment) were being pushed to the limit thanks to the ongoing war with AFFS and LCAF casualties.
But even if I might have believed that cover story, the second half of it had me fighting to keep a straight face. Because according to Alexander, no less than a hundred medical personnel were coming with the patients. Personnel who were going to be retrained by the NAIS and reequipped to be able to open a new hospital on Coromodir itself, whose construction was to be financed by House Steiner. A hospital that would eventually be able to beat anything in the Periphery - even rival anything on Canopus IV - when fully operational.
Now, the man clearly had no reason to lie to me … but that led to the obvious question. If Hanse and Katrina really were going to this much effort … why were they doing so?
Obvious answer; the Augrians had something they wanted. Wanted rather badly.
But what could that be? I wondered silently in the back of my head. Cursing the fact that I had missed that new video game and whatever story it had told as I suspected that the answer would have been somewhere there. I had pointed the powers that be towards this region after realising its existence after all - and clearly they had put it under a microscope for the logical reason that something that I said shouldn't actually be present but was present was probably worth a fresh look … and I supposed they must have found … something?
Someone?
Some place?
What could this little microstate on the rim have to offer the FedCom that was so damn valuable that Hanse was willing to open up the NAIS and Katrina her chequebook like this?
"...so even with the civil war ended, our position has become, shall we say, precariously balanced" the Emir continued in between clearly savouring the soup course, dragging my attention back. "Recovery has been steady, but slow. So much we had built up under Lady Aranos father was lost to her uncle's greed. And so the strategic situation has become, vexingly, both more and less certain."
I considered that and nodded as I also finished off the truly excellent - but far too small - soup serving before carefully pushing the plate forward to the 'I am done, you may clear it' position for the swarms of servants moving through the room, before turning to more fully face Alexander, rubbing my chin a little in consideration.
"Well it sounds like the Bulls certainly got egg all over their face by backing Santiago Espinosa and his 'Directorate'" I suggested, reflecting on his words and comparing them to the few reports I had gotten from the intelligence desk back in the 'Den about their little civil war. A civil war the DMI analyst who had gotten the reports for me had scornfully labelled 'A Support-Vee War' over the fact that both sides had only a handful of serious Battlemech or heavy armour forces, with most of the engagements coming down to light vehicles or what amounted to 31st century fleets of technicals and infantry blobs.
Apparently this kind of war was depressingly common in the Periphery and quite often barely even noticed in the Inner Sphere.
"It might make them less inclined to stick their noses into the business of the Coalition after they made such fools of themselves."
Alexander shrugged in a way that suggested he found this unlikely.
"Certainly, the Perdition Massacre was something of a humiliation for them - especially given how easily they fell for a false flag" Alexander acknowledged. "And it didn't help that the task force from the Taurian Lancers sent to support Espinosa and get a quick and decisive victory proceeded to go rogue when ordered to withdraw after the truth was exposed. Going rogue in nominal support of a man who had killed ten thousand Taurians and framed the Federated Suns for the act no less, committing war crimes right up until the end. They could disavow him all they wished, but the reputation of the Concordant has suffered greatly through the Reach - and not just in the Coalition I might say."
We paused as a number of servants now arrived and in a whirlwind of activity removed our finished soup courses. I took the moment to glance carefully down the table … before relaxing as I saw that the Taurian 'ambasador' four seats down seemed far too engrossed in chatting with some rather hot young woman next to him to be trying to listen to our conversation.
"However" the Emir continued after the servants had finished their work, the Bulls getting so much egg on their face has, unfortunately, been by far the biggest and most aggravating problem for the Coalition post conflict."
"Oh?" I asked curiously. Glancing again at the Tarurian juuuuuust to make sure - yup, he was definitely far too busy trying to glance down the very deep emerald neckline of the woman's dress opposite him (while working to look like he wasn't) to be paying attention to us.
Even so, I lowered my volume and leaned in a little closer to the Emir as he started to explain, toying with one of his forks absently.
"Our strategic position, as I hope you understand, has historically been the result of a somewhat delicate balance between the Concordant and Confederation" he explained with a slight shrug. "And with the Confederation at the very least having to focus all its energy against the Federated Suns - and indeed, possibly in the very twilight of its existence? Well, suffice to say that the balance of power in the region has shifted quite substantially since your Prince married tonight's guest of honour" he added, nodding in the general direction of Melissa and the High Table.
I acknowledged his point with a slight tilt of my own head, picking up my water and absently sipping on it as I processed that observation, thinking back on the research I had done on this region after discovering the changes that day back on Tharkad. Certainly the Confederation and Concordat had claimed many of the systems that now looked to House Arano, with both sides more or less mutually washing their hands of the region in the 2890s out of an inability to force the issue in their favour - albeit for different reasons.
And out of that vacuum, House Arano had gathered a score of worlds together into a new microstate that had proven surprisingly viable, probably to the great chagrin of the people who had walked away and still thought of those worlds as their own…
"And now the Federated Suns is ripping up the CCAF, keeping them out of the picture, with the Bulls - for once - probably halfway confident the AFFS isn't going to come storming across the border either - while your military has been very badly damaged" I muttered, thinking it through before frowning. "But they wouldn't be looking to outright invade would they?"
"Well, that is the question. We have some … friends … on Canopus who have passed on intelligence that an invasion - although I'm sure they would call it a liberation - of several worlds is being discussed at the very highest levels around the Protector'' he continued in a more sotto voce and I kept my expression even, sipping again from my glass of water as I listened very carefully, feeling he was watching me for a reaction.
Clearly the man knew - or at least strongly suspected - that I was in the inner circle with the powers that be and had some influence with them.
But I had no intention of giving anything more away tonight so I simply waited politely until he continued.
"The word we are getting" he continued after a slightly long moment where I said nothing, "is that there have been a significant number of reshuffles in the Ministries of Trade and Defence. And proving perhaps that the universe has a rather twisted sense of irony, it would seem that the people who were in favour of working with the Coalition were largely behind the backing of Espinosa by the Concordat. And the egg, as you put it, has been arranged to be neatly splashed mostly on their faces."
I winced a little at that.
So. The groups who had been pushing to ally with the Augrians over the years had managed to make it happen - by backing the wrong faction.
And as a consequence of how badly that had gone, they had been left holding the bag - and taking the blame. And by extension, had been eliminated from contention in favour of those who had always wanted to reclaim 'their' lost clay with sword and fire.
I mean. The Bulls now seemingly being ready to turn on the Augrians after they had backed the wrong faction and outright committed war crimes seemed morally abhorrent … but the Periphery really wasn't a place where nice people tended to finish first on the sheer power of a moral victory.
Of course, the Inner Sphere often wasn't any better when you really got down to it, if I was being honest with myself. And irrespective of it wasn't a very nice thing to do, if the Bulls saw that this was a once-in-a-century chance to redraw the maps in their favour …
"So the Bulls are measuring the odds of moving before the Inner Sphere is able to care too much about this region again" I muttered before a thought occurred. "But if so" I added, raising an eyebrow, "wouldn't engaging with the Federated Commonwealth publicly like this only entice them to strike as soon as-"
To my slight annoyance, there was a clear 'Ding-Ding-Ding!' from the front of the room as Duke Stuart stood and in that ancient tradition, tapped cutlery against his glass, the sound carrying remarkably well across the room and quickly silencing conversation as if a switch had been thrown - including my own. And whatever Alexander was going to say in exchange was lost as he twisted around in his chair to face the front of the room with everyone else as the Duke went through his -rather jovial- introductions, getting a lot of cheers and laughs from the crowd with surprising self-effacing humour.
I didn't really pay much attention to it though, my mind being focused much more on the information I had just been given and trying to figure out what it meant.
Katrina was hardly going to be paying for a top level hospital in the Periphery rather than her own realm - not even she had unlimited resources. And Hanse allowing access to the NAIS to train staff for it made little sense if the Bulls were likely to take the region for themselves. And while opening diplomatic relations like this was all well and good on paper, the thought of the Federated Suns gaining a flank ally against them really sounded like it was going to just encourage the Taurians to send in the Taurian Guards first thing in the morning to seize Coromodir.
But. If even I could see it, Hanse and Katrina couldn't possibly have missed that. Which had to mean they already had plans in place - assuming they were looking to keep this little micro-state in play and make the Bulls think twice…probably.
But, I suppose that if I have a need to know, I'd be told at some point I mentally shrugged as I pushed the thoughts away in favour of joining the very loud applause as the Duke sat and Melissa stood in his place, beaming out to the audience. Drawing my attention back to the kid as the spotlight literally - and figuratively - fell on her as the hall went silent in anticipation…
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Couldn't do it my ****** ass.
She didn't even need the damn speech on paper in front of her! She did it entirely from memory, the freak!
Entirely in line with my expectations, Melsisa had nailed it. Nailed it to such a degree in fact that she had earned an immediate and extended standing ovation when she finished with leading the crowd in an exuberant toast to Northwind, the Federated Suns and the Federated Commonwealth.
And not just a polite 'we are expected to stand and clap' round of applause, but a genuinely enthusiastic one filled with a lot of very loud cheering and looks of delight and awe on everyone's faces in the room as they saw the young woman in front of them become something … great.
This went on for quite some time.
Even Myndo Waterly managed a sort of benign neutral smile on her face from her position on the far edge of the High Table as she stood (only, I'm sure, because otherwise she would have been the only person in the room refusing to get to her feet) and politely applauded (for as short a time as she could get away with). Her eyes however beyond the smile were focused intently on Melissa in a way that probably would have had me putting a laser bolt through her forehead if I had been allowed to bring my sidearm with me to dinner.
Clearly, she had realised just how good Melissa was as a politician - and that she was going to be a huge asset to the Federated Commonwealth. And conversely, a major threat to ComStar and its - well at least her - plans for the Inner Sphere.
That would be a problem - especially given the women's tendency like a poker machine addict to try and double down on big flashy moves, hoping for a big jackpot to get herself out of the hole she had dug herself into. And I had a very bad feeling she was in a bit of a political hole right now, here because she was looking for just one big jackpot to get her out of it…
But that was also happily a problem for other people suited to fighting that particular war.
Dinner resumed at that point - and I now lost the opportunity to interrogate Lord Madeira any further. After the speech by some unwritten rule there had been a bit of a run for the local bathrooms followed at the lower table by a bewildering and random shuffling of many seats I had not seen coming - Lord Madeira among them, shifting a few seats down and onto the other side of the table. At a bit of a loss for the protocol here, I held my position (as many other people also did) with a bit of a nod to my new neighbour but with no time for more than that as the main course was served. A quartet of women - with quite stunning voices - then got to work, performing a number of songs. Supposedly from Ancient Scotland with what sounded like celtic harmonies and a subtle backing band somewhere that drove all conversation from the great hall as we all ate and just enjoyed their performance.
At least it gave me time to think.
Why were Hanse and Katrina being so accommodating of the Augrians? They both had far bigger fish to fry. It was genuinely disappointing that the Taurians were being giant dicks, but I was at a loss for why the First Prince and Archon were so determined to get involved when we were already fighting a massive war on two fronts.
And for that matter, why had Melissa put me here to chat with Ambassador Madeira exactly? Was it some kind of test? Or did she need something from me?
Life would be so much easier if people actually let me in on what they expected from me.
Anyway, my line of thought was terminated however as the final song by the band was finished and after a round of applause, the hoard of servants reemerged to start collecting the main course plates, causing conversation to pick right back up.
And almost immediately, my new neighbour on my left turned to face me, a broad smile on his face that put me right on guard.
"So. Mister John Smith" he said with a grin, the man looking slightly ridiculous in my opinion for the fact that he was wearing a cape to dinner and had sat down with it still on, flung over the back of his chair. "At last, a chance to talk with the hero of the hour!"
"Indeed" another voice cut right in and I switched my gaze to the seat on the other side of the table from my neighbour, to take in the man across from him in a garish purple and white suit, smiling across at me too - albeit with something about his eyes that put me on guard. "The hero of Helm unless I'm mistaken?"
Thankfully after Myndo Waterly had thrown Helm in my face earlier in the night and nearly given me a heart attack, I actually felt surprisingly relaxed about someone else throwing it at me like this.
Probably because if ComStar knew I had been there, honestly, it really couldn't make much difference if anyone else did, could it?
With that said, as my Contact Report to the powers that be about all these events was getting longer with every one of the seven courses of the meal that was being served, I'd probably be grumpy as ****** about it all later tonight.
And the way that conversation around me stilled and a lot of heads turned my way probably wasn't a good thing either.
"I'm sorry Sir, I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage?" I responded politely, picking up a glass of water to take a sip - a slow sip, perking up a little as down the table I saw servants moving in to deploy what looked suspiciously like coffee and cake to the table.
"Of course, my apologies" the more distant man smirked a little at me - like a used car salesman finding a mark I thought dryly. "I am Baron Matthew Slovan, CEO of 'Inner Circle Shipping of Stewart'" he said, giving a small sort of flourish-come-wave that I think was the table-manners equivalent of a shallow bow while you were sitting down. "And we have heard of you on Stewart - the Hero of Helm indeed, in the flesh."
"And I am his honourable competitor of course" the man next to me cut in suddenly, to a clear - if brief - flash of annoyance in the eyes of Baron Slovan. "Baron Domanic Lamberti of Sirius Import/Export Ltd at your service '' he announced, offering a nod that was almost a shallow bow in my direction. "And I must say that it is certainly an unexpected honour to have the latest hero of the Federated Suns here to talk with!"
"I believe you are referring to Ardan Sortek - or Patrick Kell if you are looking for the Heroes of Helm" I corrected the others carefully, but politely, even as I felt my heart sink as I suddenly realised who these two were and wondering if there was any chance of avoiding what I thought was about to happen, suddenly having a moment of empathy for a net in a tennis match at Wimbledon…
"And yet you sit here and come to this world in a party with Melissa Steiner herself" Slovan pressed slyly. "A mere - if you will of course forgive the word mere- Lieutenant in the AFFS rubbing shoulders with the nobility and on the Archon Designates personal staff? Surely there must be a reason - and much done on Helm to earn you such a prestigious place?"
Okay. This man had clearly just added two plus two and got Pi I thought, feeling a little of the tension unclench here as I tried to think of a diplomatic way to correct him-
Thankfully that job was taken from me.
Less thankfully, it was by his peer on the other side of the table.
A burst of derisive laughter interjected and the attention of those around me (who were clearly paying complete attention but trying to pretend they were not) shifted back with me now to Baron Lamberti.
"My dear Matthew", Lamberti drawled while absently circling a wine glass with one hand and looking down into its contents in an overly aloof way for a moment before spearing the other with a glance. "Surely even your master hasn't missed the recent events on New Avalon? Lieutenant Smith over here" he inclined his head towards me without breaking eye contact with Baron Slovan, "single handedly saved Prince Davion himself from certain death at the hands of Yorinaga Kurita - and then killed Yorinaga Kurita. Again, single handedly!"
Fifteen - Love, Lamberti.
"Hardly single handedly" I cut back into the conversation, trying very hard to short circuit these two going at it - and also trying to ignore the considerable number of double takes I had gotten from everyone in hearing distance at that revelation as more and more people's attention was drawn in.
And the last thing Melissa needed tonight was these two going at it, so…
"Prince Davion was doing a rather splendid job of ripping the Tai-sa's 'Mech to pieces when Yoreringa's Son, Akira, intervened and shot The Prince in the back'' I instead continued my story, hoping to distract them with the tale - and certainly the people around were listening to me rather raptly. "If not for that, the odds were excellent that their duel would have ended with a Battlemaster' fist in Yorinaga's cockpit. Plus I had a number of cadets keeping Akira distracted as I moved to engage his father or else I wouldn't have been able to really do much of anything."
"Fair enough" he held up one hand idly in surrender on that point. "But" he then added, lowering said hand into a finger pointed squarely at me, "as I understand it, it was you alone who scored the first direct weapons hits on his Battlemech yes? And then you eliminated him by crashing your Mech into his and self-destructing?" the Baron pressed, lifting his wine glass to take a sniff of it - all without looking away from me.
I fought back a sigh.
"You are correct, more or less," I finally admitted, getting a flurry of interested whispers from the peanut gallery as the servants started to sweep through, depositing what looked like a half dozen tiny square cakes - and coffee cups along with coffee pots that I quickly went for, pouring myself a generous cup. "Although it wasn't quite as dramatic as I'm sure the Holovid will make it out to be either. My weapons were disabled. My arms were sheared off or disabled and I didn't really have any other cards to play. Kurita had managed to overheat himself firing at me and had a crippled foot joint thanks to Prince Davion, so he couldn't either shoot me with his heavy guns or evade. So I just rammed him, hit the self-destruct and punched out."
"Yes. Punched out of a Helm recovered SLDF Royal Command Battlemech as I understand?" he added with a gleam in his that screamed to me 'you didn't ****** get that for nothing, who exactly are you?'
He paused for a moment at that to take a sip of his wine and let a silence hold over the crowd for a moment before sighing in appreciation for the vintage, putting the empty glass down.
"Still. Modest and talented Lieutenant Smith; a combination I must admit I would never be if I had accomplished even half of what you have" Baron Lamberti suggested, with a glance around the table that earned him some chuckles and smiles. "Your loyalty to your Prince does you enormous credit."
"Indeed it does" Baron Slovan re-entered the conversation with a nod at me, my eyes flicking back across the table to where he had been watching with barely hidden irritation, I thought, directed squarely at Lamberti. "Loyalty to one's superiors is the entire foundation of our societies after all, bound by oaths and deads. Such loyalty should - indeed, must be- rewarded, as I see now the good Price and perhaps even the Archon have seen fit to do. As much, of course, as exceptional disloyalty to our rulers should be punished."
At that, there was a kind of ripple through this part of the room I think best described as 'Oh you did not just go there did you?' - and I froze with the first piece of cake halfway to my mouth, slowly returning it to the plate as my attempt to keep these two from going at it started to collapse into a pit.
Please don't go there, please don't go there, please don't-
"True words. And equally truly, the greatest of judgements should be made upon those rulers and the friends they choose to … ally with" Baron Lamberti smoothly riposted and I mentally facepalmed as the two men locked gazes with the most plastic smiles on each others faces that made me immediately glad that swords were checked at the door. While wondering idly if the hormones were getting to Melissa after all, given that she had invited Matter and Antimatter to sit right next to each other, with only the smallest jolt needed to get them to touch…
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Happily at that exact moment, one of the castles servants - a more senior one and not part of the army working on the food I think - suddenly materialised behind me and stepped up to Baron Lamberti's shoulder, leaning down to softly mutter something in his ear and hand him a … note?
I wasn't sure what this was about, but the interjection broke the moment and the tension in the area started to fade away as people turned away . I slowly exhaled in relief, feeling that I had just dodged a very close bullet as Baron Slovan turned to make conversation with the woman next to him, taking a sip of the coffee - and finding it astonishingly strong almost to the point of being too bitter to drink, but appreciating the caffeine I figured it was loaded with as I tried to focus my thoughts and figure out what in the ****** Melissa had been thinking inviting both of these people to tonight - and seating them right next to each other!
Baron Matthew Slovan, the head of 'Inner Circle Shipping Co' and Baron Domanic Lamberti of Sirius Import/Export Ltd were the Free Worlds Leagues 'ambassadors' to this little party and two of the major import/export agents into the Suns/FWL grey markets. And I used the plural for their position because while both were landed Barons, it just so happened that the former was a landed baron sworn indirectly to the Duke of Regulus, a close ally of Captain General Janos Marik … and the later was a Baron directly sworn to Duke Garth Marik of Irian.
Politics in the Free Worlds League had gotten a lot more complicated than it used to be thanks to my impact on events over the last few years - and that was saying something. The snowball had started after the looting of the Helm cache years before those events had played out in the original timeline. A timeline in which Duke Garth Marik would have been used as a patsy by ComStar to try and open the Helm cache. All so ComStar could seize and secure 'for the good of all mankind' (or just covertly eliminate if necessary) the data core inside. While Marik himself had been promised by Precentor Emilio Rachan all the SLDF gear inside in payment for his own use.
Read; gear that would have made Garth's dream to overthrow the Captain General shift from a vague ambition to a terrifyingly realistic prospect.
In the original timeline, those wonderful Mercs in the Grey Death Legion (who at last report I was delighted to see were beating the shit out of the Amphigean Light Assault on Marduk) had exposed both plans. With ComStar disavowing Rachan as a crazy rogue actor (as the man had killed 17 Million people to make his run at the cache there really wasn't anything else the Primus could have done of course) while Duncan Marik had wasted very little time in having the Duke of Irian put up against a wall and shot for High Treason.
But in THIS timeline, despite Hanse and Katrina all but pointing the finger at Garth as the FWL figure partially responsible for the FedCom getting their hands on the cache (and even going so far as to strongly hint it was indeed because Garth had eyes on Janos Marik's seat) … SAFE had been unable to find hard proof.
Apparently, they had found the intelligence equivalent of many many piles of used shell casings all over the place that screamed he must have been plotting Treason, as it were … but not the smoking gun, or, close confidants willing to flip that they needed to actually try him in a court of law and find him guilty. Something that needed to be absolutely ironclad in the Free Worlds League given how touchy worlds and provinces were about Federal Overreach, no matter how much treason (given, you know, Anton) grinded the Captain Generals gears.
Still, clearly knowing he was on the Captain Generals 'shit list' even if nothing could be proved (yet) in a Court, Garth had rather adroitly pivoted in Court to gain a broad base of political support and allies to protect himself and build a new powerbase in the FWL Game of Thrones. Reinventing himself of all things as the head of a 'loyal' opposition to the Captain General's current foreign policy plans. The head of an 'anti Capellan Confederation' block of the FWL that (understandably) felt pissed at Janos for allying himself with the man who had backed his brother's civil war and thrown more than a couple of nominally FWL worlds under the bus for his Concord alliance.
That faction had been a non player in the original timeline - and I could see why even without MIIO reports on the matter and just public media. It wasn't simply that on balance the League hated the Lyrans more (which was true, but not to the degree I had actually thought it was), but more because the Humphries, who had been that block's nominal leaders, simply kept pissing off everyone around them. With their attempts at 'leadership' the kind that would have caused Stannis Baratheon to quietly tell them they needed to be a little more flexible and less 'My Way or the Highway!' Especially given that Janos at times seemed to channel Tywin Lannister for his ability to hold grudges.
But the end result had been that Garth had been able to (somehow) convince Catherine Humphries to pass the nominal leadership torch to him - and that had been a masterstroke. As a Marik, his name had a power and authority that no other house could match and his new power block had solidified in the time between Helm and the Wedding of the Century thanks to some very deft political manoeuvring, back door deals, handshaking and (so MIIO suspected) possibly an infusion of bribes in the right places. Janos was being forced to expend significant amounts of political capital internally just to hold his political position as tensions rose between Atreus and other provinces and worlds…
All of which of course served the Federated Commonwealth powers far better than the original timelines astroturfed instability to keep the FWL busy. And all without Hanse or Katrina having to lift a finger!
The tension had unsurprisingly spiked when the 4th Succession War had kicked off. Intense arguments in the FWL Parlement, the public sphere and the aristocracy about what exactly the FWL should do had raged through 3028. Garth's faction had (in my opinion) taken the very reasonable position of 'get in on the fun and crush the Confederation once and for all!' but while they were a very strong voice, other provinces and worlds had been far less receptive to the idea for this or that reason. The biggest issue being Lyran antipathy along their shared border having (much fewer but loud) voices saying it was the time to honour the Concord and strike the Lyrans while they were busy with the Combine…
…and then the news about 'Doppelganger' arrived. Followed a couple of days later during the first debates on this new information by some member of Parliament speculating aloud that, for all they knew, Anton Marik had been the Mark I version of Doppelganger. Launched by Maximilian Liao against the FWL.
And that accusation had gone viral across the FWL in a way that had taken me completely off guard.
Because, well …
It was pure bullshit!
I mean, there hadn't been anything that even hinted at the possibility in the Battletech sources I'd read. Not in the books that discussed Antons revolt or his point of view. Not even the Interstellar Conspiracies books which had loved to throw out every wild theory as 'rumours' in-universe.
And yet, despite knowing all of that. Even knowing the truth in a way no-one else in this universe did …
Well, I even wanted to believe the theory, no matter how much it made me feel like Agent Mulder at times!
After all, the whys of Antons rebellion had never been conclusively answered, at least not in the public sphere - or even really in much of the nobility's eyes.
Why had he tried to violently usurp his brother in the first place as opposed to trying to move against him in parliament or just simply waiting for Janos to dig himself deeper into the hole he was making of his reign? Why did he make his move when he was clearly lacking the kind of popular and military support he needed for either a quick or sustained win meaning he was likely to simply churn the FWL into an extended civil war?
Why had he only launched his campaign after getting support from Maximilian Liao of all people, a decision that had put a large part of the FWL offside as they saw him (correctly) as just a Liao puppet?
Why had he made so many counterproductive moves, such as his crazy decision to take Wolf's Dragoons dependents hostage and then execute them? A tactic being pointed to now more than ever as almost Liao in both the ruthlessness … and abject counterproductive stupidity?
And why did he go to Terra to meet Maximilian - and come back 'a changed man' as several of those closest to him had said of him at the time? Probably meaning that he was focused and driven or something, but words now latched onto with intense focus … even more so given that those who had made them had all died in Antons revolt and thus were not around to qualify them!
Simply put; Anton Marik being replaced with a Doppelganger by House Liao just made so much sense. All those unanswered questions fit into this theory neater than Cinderella's glass slipper. All of those who brought into the theory - or at least were willing to give it serious consideration when combined with those who for their own reasons simply did not want the FWL to sit out of the war and so found it expedient to claim that it was a valid question to ask?
'They' had now massed into a solid and steadily growing majority across the Free Worlds League. And the longer Janos dithered making a decision, the more people were listening to Garth's chosen proxies in Parliament as he accused the Captain General of failing in his theoretically singular responsibility of foreign affairs and protection of the FWLs interests-
And … why was Baron Lamberti now grinning and standing up?
Oh shit, what was in that note I could see him holding?
A note, now that I could see it clearly, had the expensive embossed ComStar logo on it, meaning it was a HPG message-
"MY LADY STEINER" he bellowed with genuinely impressive volume that sliced across the room to my complete shock, causing all conversation to slew to an abrupt halt as he stepped away from his seat into the gap between the rows of tables, all eyes in the room swivelling to him. "AND MY LORD DUKE STUART!" he added, his grin undiminished in a way that made it very clear he was very happy about … something.
"What the ****** is he doing" I helplessly muttered under my breath as I too twisted to watch this unexpected event, noting that Melissa and everyone else on the High Table was staring at him now.
"MY APOLOGIES FOR THE INTERRUPTION" he continued, without a microphone clearly needing to raise his voice quite a bit. "BUT I BRING GLORIOUS TIDINGS FROM THE FREE WORLDS LEAGUE."
"Indeed?" Duke Stuart replied in a voice dryer than the excellent white wine he had provided for his guests, his voice cutting clearly through the near silent murmuring of the crowd without any effort thanks to a concealed microphone near him. "And pray tell laddie, what news might that be, if you feel you must interrupt this fine meal we are all enjoying?"
There was a rumble of a sort of agreement in the crowd at that - but it was rather muted. Clearly the crowd was fascinated by this unexpected event that had not been on the evening's schedule.
Well mostly fascinated. At a hunch, I glanced briefly at Baron Slovan … and he looked like he was considering taking the Steak Knife in front of him and leaping across the table.
I glanced back at Lamberti and then … and upped my threat estimate of the man considerably as it finally hit me that his presence here and now at this dinner was not in any way down to chance.
It was by design.
But is that design his bosses I thought before shooting a glance at Melissa and studied her face intently for a moment, but saw nothing but a perfect expression of confused surprise there that told me nothing.
Or is it my boss playing games here?
"I BRING WORD FROM MY LORD, THE DUKE GARTH MARIK OF IRIAN AND FOR THOSE MOST LOYAL PATRIOTS WHO STAND WITH HIM ON THIS DAY!" he yelled as he continued to slowly stride down towards the front (watched like a hawk, I saw, by the guards discreetly placed around the room) as he held up that bit of paper high above him with a slow turn so the entire room could see it - and probably the large ComStar logo on the back of it too.
"MARK THIS DAY WELL! FOR ON THE 8TH OF APRIL 3029, THE SIRIAN LANCERS HAVE BEEN UNLEASHED TO RECLAIM THEIR STOLEN HOMEWORLD FROM THE CAPELLAN CONFEDERATION!"
There was a distinct intake of breath that could only be described as a collective gasp of shock at that claim. And after a second I realised I had been a part of the noise, my jaw hanging loosely as my head spun with the implications - but the man was not finished, not one bit.
"FURTHER!" he continued, "THE NOBLE 1ST, 2ND AND 4TH DEFENDERS OF ANDURIEN CROSSED THE BORDER TO COMMENCE THE LIBERATION OF BETELGEUSE!"
This time there was actually a smattering of applause through the vast room that the Baron modestly held up a hand in acknowledgement of, waiting for a moment for it to fade out.
"FURTHER!" Lombardi continued again, clearly relishing the maximum ham moment. "THE NOBLE 3RD AND 5TH DEFENDERS OF ANDURIEN HAVE STRIKE AT SIGMA MARE AND LATICE, LOOKING TO LIBERATE THOSE WORLDS TOO FROM THE GRIP OF MAXIMUMS LIAO!"
The applause was definitely much louder this time and once again the smiling Baron held up a hand as he swung his beaming gaze around the room that was clearly warming to this rather unexpected twist this evening.
"FURTHER! THE FOLLOWING LEAGUE WORLDS HAVE ALSO COMMITTED THE FOLLOWING FORCES INTO THE ATTACK…"
As I listed - in no small amount of stunned shock - with the increasing applause and cheering from the room rippling over me in a sort of distant-thunder way as my mind spun in circles at a very high RPM - as the Baron listed off another six separate Capellan Confederation worlds being attacked by a mixture of provincial forces and mercenary units.
Eight! That was eight key Capellan worlds under attack by the Free Worlds League!
EIGHT!
I felt a little faint for a moment from the sheer shock before shaking it off and starting to thi I quickly, realising that the units he was calling out did not include even one Federal unit or traditional Marik unit, which said without saying that this assault was not something the Captain General had ordered - and probably not even been informed of, let alone authorised.
And it all added up to an inescapable conclusion.
Garth Marik is forcing the Captain General's hand. Forcing it in a very big, very dangerous way.
The current Captain General of the Free Worlds League after all didn't just hold grudges … so much as order entire planets terraformed for him to grow the grudges in mass factory farms. An attitude earned from the fires of the civil war that had pitted him against members of his own family in a fight to the death - but even before that as Cranston Snord could attest, he tended towards making a list of everyone who has crossed him.
But on the other hand I suppose that when you were as deep on his shit list as Garth? Well, what else could you do but get a lot of other people to add themselves to it alongside you?
It sounded like save for Orente, every damn province and world of note along the Capellan border had thrown its units across it into the Confederation, a nation at least nominally still allied with the Free Worlds League.
And that left Janos in one hell of a political dilemma.
Trying to get the political support in Parliament to stop this was probably pointless and the Home Defence Act was still in full force, meaning the Provinces still had great leeway to use their own troops as they saw fit. Trying to order Federal Units in to try and grab Garth or his lackeys and arrest them would risk an outright mutiny in the FWLM or a Parliamentary revolt given that the provinces in question had all but bared their bellies to Janos. Daring him to try and move against them, while they attacked the Confederation.
And given that Max would probably be displeased at these events (to put it lightly, although probably only half as much as his youngest daughter would be), those Federal units needed to stay on station - or to be ready to redeploy - to meet any CCAF reprisals.
On the face of it? Janos had been perhaps left with only one choice and his supporters would probably understand that his hand had been forced here, but it was what it was and the only logical course was to go all-in, steal the glory and wrest political control of the war back.
On the other hand, Janos Marik had never struck me as the kind of guy who tolerated being told what to do.
I shook my head slightly to try and clear the shock out and tried to get back on task, glancing around the table and refocusing myself to try and get a read on the room. Baron Slovan looked like he wanted to throw up the first five courses of dinner right now, with his face having gone from red to white in record time. And at that very moment his expression tightened some more and he abruptly stood and stalked down to the side exit out of the dining hall, probably heading for the HPG station I would guess to send a WTF message back home.
So too, probably, I guessed was Myndo Waterly who had vanished from the high table and was nowhere to be seen (when I made a quick glance about and failed to spot her). Perhaps thinking she might get some minor political benefit if she got the word to Terra fastest?
Whatever the reason, the fact that she was no longer in close proximity I took as probably good news, turning back as the latest applause for the Baron Lamberti finally ended.
"THIS!" Lamberti continued as soon as the clapping stopped. "THIS WILL BE A DAY LONG REMEMBERED!" he all but roared to the hall who were raptly watching him as he made a final turn with his cape looking rather spectacular and in one smooth move, swiped his wine glass and presented it towards the VIPs as he completed the turn. "AND THUS, I GIVE YOU, MY LORDS AND LADIES, HONOURABLE SOLDIERS AND HONOURED GUESTS, A TOAST! A TOAST TO THE GLORIOUS NEW DAY RISING ACROSS THE INNER SPHERE! THE NEW DAWN!"
Seriously, Brian Blessed would have been grudgingly impressed by this man's ham, but damn could he yell.
Energised by the gesture (and force of volume perhaps) the locals didn't seem to hesitate in grabbing their booze and brandishing it right back at him.
"THE NEW DAWN!" they yelled back before drinking - and then breaking out into a final round of applause once more.
It was a good toast I admitted as I sipped my water with a bit of a grim smirk. If inside the Federated Suns you raised a glass and linked anything back to the Sunburst, well, you generally were guaranteed a rowdy response.
Well. This war just got … interesting.
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Oh holy crap. What was that about butterflies and typhoons?
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Huzzah! Its back! You have our gratitude!
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yea getting ready for civil war o'clock... again.
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Ha! I told my wife I was going to poke Chris on New Years, now he beats me to it. More! And merry Christmas, too, eh?
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Typhoons indeed! So glad to see this story back! :)
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Glad to see you back. Had always liked your story. Use to check several times a day to see if you had put more up.
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Uuurrrah!! And let slip the dogs of War!
GREAT to see your writing back on the Active list!
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It is back!!!
and like the storm that hit Maine on 18th of December.. It hit HARD
a new Civil War in the FWL.. like that something new.. or will the FWL jump all in on CC and watch them CC go out
What will the Taurians next move be.. join in crushing the CC or something else?
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this was a nice Christmas gift.
honestly it felt like the time was coming due for an update for the last 4 or 5 weeks. So the timing was perfect.