Galicia Hills,
23rd October, 3061
1430 hours (1830 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
“Wow!”
“Truly amazing, my lord!”
“So many kills!”
Renard basked in the adulation of the crowd as he strutted arrogantly in front of his mech, the killed beasts accredited to him stacked on one side.
The crowd continued to murmur. It was almost to the end of the hunt, dusk was gradually setting in.
“As expected, his hunting prowess is unmatched!”
“Speaking of which, Sir Raymond Haynes is still nowhere to be found. They’re about to sound the trumpet marking the end of the hunt.”
“I’ll be shocked if that bookworm managed to catch even a small toad.”
“Well said. He must not know a thing about mech piloting and hunting, given how he sought Sir Larouche’s advice.”
As the crowd talked, Anastasia stood with Finn, quietly waiting for the trumpet signal. Hmmph… Seriously? She glanced at Renard’s support boat. It was clear that his stock of harpoons was not utilised at all. So he just took others’ kills and claimed them as his own. Anybody with half a brain and eyes can see that. Sycophants, the lot of them…
Besides, the kills Renard claimed as his own seemed to accrue in quantity, not quality. Crocodiles, giant amphibians, smaller-sized sharks. No single one kill was on the same level as a hammerhorn, though Finn had demurred and claimed only one hammerhorn kill, while credit for the other publicly went to an embarrassed Baron Moore, who quietly declared himself forever in Anastasia’s debt for her largesse. The boat crews were sworn to secrecy, along with a hefty payout from Finn and Baron Moore in gratitude for their silence.
So it was not as if they didn’t do the same anyway, but at least Baron Moore was grateful and being circumspect about it.
“Anyway, the competition would be over soon. Where can Raymond Haynes be…”
“Make way!” A loudspeaker blared out from a boat arriving, bearing the heraldry of House Haynes, obviously Raymond’s boat. It towed a massive scaled creature behind it, the massive bulk of its body trawling through the water. The creature was still alive and kicking, from the looks of it.
The crowd gasped in awe. “That’s a slattern!”
A slattern was a massive reptile that could stand upright with two legs, two arms, and a tail capable of powerful slashing attacks or immobilising its prey, with some samples weighing in at a staggering fifty tons. It could swim incredibly fast for its size in water, yet was also able to go on land to hunt prey, devouring cattle-sized prey in single bites.
Legend had it that years ago during the heyday of the Star League, the SLDF sent an Atlas modified for underwater combat to battle a slattern. The slattern actually won, constantly blindsiding the Atlas from its flanks in muddy waters until its shielding was breached, and then tearing it apart plate by armour plate.
The Atlas pilot did not survive.
It was the single most deadly predator in the nearby seas and the várzea forests when they were flooded, and the apex predator on Inman. Its leather skin was highly prized, but also rare because of the difficulty in hunting it. Thankfully, its preferred hunting grounds were far from the main fishing zones around the main continent, and the fishermen had long devised methods to avoid it when on their fishing trips.
The same company that ran Hunter’s Paradise thought about setting up a similar operation on Inman, before they realised that engaging these beasts underwater was practically suicidal for any tourist, even in a heavily armoured mech, and quickly gave up the idea.
This slattern was bound up in metal wires, preventing it from breaking free. Even so, the sheer sight of it caused many of the watching crowd to quickly retreat far from the docks, into relative safety. Some of the Waterbugs even formed a protective line between the slattern and the audience.
As the boat pulled up next to the docks, Raymond’s mech marched into view.
“Looks like I’m just in time!” Raymond announced using his mech’s speakers.
The crowd started muttering again.
“A slattern! Aren’t they very difficult to hunt?”
“It could take out a battlemech! To have captured such a beast, and alive at that…”
Renard roared angrily, pointing a finger at his brother’s mech, “Raymond! How could you steal somebody else’s kills? Have you no shame? You are a member of House Haynes!”
More mutterings from the crowd at Renard’s accusations.
“So that’s what happened.”
“Of course, we should have known…”
Renard continued to shout, “My lord father, we must have a fair competition!”
An attendant from Raymond’s boat stepped forward. “My lords! Sir Haynes caught this beast himself! I swear it!”
Renard turned on the man. “Am I to take the word of a lowly servant as the truth?” He looked back up at Raymond’s mech. “Raymond, what manner of trickery is this?”
Raymond’s Waterbug stood motionless for a moment, even while the slattern thrashed about in its bonds. Then he said over his speakers, “My lord Father, Renard, I captured this beast alive as I feared this might happen, hence the reason for my lateness… haha…”
His Waterbug pointed its claw at the slattern. “Please free the slattern from its bindings.”
Renard took several steps back, into the safety of the line of Waterbugs. “What kind of nonsense are you trying to pull?”
Somebody on the boat must have pressed something to release the slattern, because it was free the next moment, roaring its defiance and anger. The crowd stood in hushed awe, while Anastasia could see the tension in the protective line of Waterbugs.
Raymond’s mech took a step forward, drawing the slattern’s attention. It roared again angrily, probably recognising the opponent that had subdued it previously. The mech got into a battle-ready stance, surprising the observers.
“I thought Raymond knew nothing about piloting a mech?”
“Hmmm, but the very stance of his mech suggests that he has some skill in it.”
The slattern roared a third time, then started charging at Raymond’s Waterbug. It slammed into Raymond’s Waterbug, but the mech held firm against the weight of its charge. Before it could use its tail to reach around to strike at Raymond from one side, he punched hard with the Waterbug’s left hand into the slattern’s head.
The precise blow collapsed the massive beast to the ground, insensate.
Raymond stood with his mech over the downed slattern. “I refrained from killing it as I wanted to avoid subjecting all of you to such violence. But if it dares to try to attack anybody, I shall have no choice but to slay it. I hope you gentlemen can trust that I am fully capable of doing so.” The mech brandished its harpoon cannon, the sharp tip of the harpoon gleaming in the dusk sunlight, making clear his intent.
Anastasia arched an eyebrow at that. It was a decisive victory for Raymond. He was showered in cheers and well-wishes, and even Venice was clearly flattered by the ladies around her, all surprised by Raymond’s skills.
Holding Finn’s arm, Anastasia looked up at her fiance. Raymond is the clear winner. I do not think anybody here can claim otherwise. Even Finn appears to be impressed.
She turned to look at Raymond, who was climbing down from his mech, the slattern already being bound again in strong wire cord. People are now seeing Raymond in a different light. The battle for the Countship of the Trivet is only beginning…
She thought back. In the clans, ultimate political leadership, the position of Khan, was determined by a vote by the clan council, comprising of the Bloodnamed warriors of the clan. This limited democratic system tended to work out well in general for the clans, with the various candidates for Khan usually possessing some modicum of martial prowess and political acumen, with proven track records in battle, and personal valour demonstrated when earning their Bloodnames.
Certainly not imbeciles like Renard Haynes.
Nevertheless, she could see the flaws now. Back then, she had been too eager as a warrior, to play her part in restoring the Star League, and blind to everything else. And only from Anastasia’s point of view, could she see the problems with the clan system, with all the studying she had been doing, along with copious amounts of self-reflection after reading the books Venice had forced on her. Did I… did Avryl… really see Clan Smoke Jaguar for what it truly was? Or was I simply as caught up as the rest of my clan’s warriors, indoctrinated into knowing nothing else?
It was a sobering thought.
Anastasia sighed. She suspected she would have a lot of time to ponder over where the clan had gone wrong. She just wished she could talk to Erlin, Camille, or Gast one more time and ask them what they really thought of the Smoke Jaguars, circumstances and loyalties be damned.
But she could not. They were probably dead, just like the rest of her clan. All she could do was to honour their memory somehow, and seek her vengeance on Pence Lamongue.
Base Barista, Larney Plains, Farnsworth,
Kilbourne PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
23rd October, 3061
2000 hours
Despite its name, Farnsworth was nearly worthless as a world. It was comfortable with good weather, but that was about it. It was actually a relatively young planet, with its indigenous lifeforms still existing as single-cell organisms in its seas. Severely lacking in fossil fuel deposits and suitable mineral ores, Farnsworth was never able to develop sufficient local industry to even get to twenty-first century tech levels. Virtually all its high technology was imported.
It was a bucolic agricultural world though, with plenty of local food and the locals did manage to develop some communications sufficiently that they could still have some semblance of a food distribution network. The former clanners could hardly believe it when a delivery showed up with a dozen pack mules carrying their supplies.
There seemed to be some sort of local consortium trying to build up a local hydrogen and solar cell energy economy, but Camille knew it would be many years before they had a discernible impact on Farnsworth’s development.
Right now though, she had more immediate concerns.
“I feel like a proud sib-parent,” she remarked brightly as she looked Gast over. “Look at you, all grown up and ready to take on the Sphere!”
“Oh come on Camille!” Gast was not blind to her sarcasm. “I feel strange wearing these!”
He was clad in a loose shirt with floral prints, along with bermudas, flip-flops, and even a straw hat. The very image of a tourist.
It also struck him as utterly ludicrous.
“But are you sure Delacambre has the right climate for this getup?” Larris noted. “And are you sure this is what a local Farnie, who just got rich, would wear on his first trip off world?” ‘Farnie’ being the local slang term for the natives.
Camille grinned. “Of course not. I just wanted to prank you guys. This,” she pulled another outfit out from nowhere, “is probably more like it.”
After rolling their eyes, the men looked it over dubiously.
“A business suit?” Erlin asked.
“Aff! What image does a just-made-it-rich Farnie want to portray to the universe? He wants to be known as successful, rich, and so he dresses the part. He wants to show off in general, and have fun when he can. Gast, that’s the role you’ll be taking up.”
He grimaced. “I cannot just wear what I wear all the time?”
She scoffed, “A jumpsuit? Or an uniform? Don’t be ridiculous. The point is to infiltrate Inman, so you must be as convincing as possible. Use of contractions, for example.” She stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you just flinching a bit, and even now. Get used to it.”
Erlin spoke next. “Let us go over the plan again.”
Gast walked over to the flipchart they had set up, and started pointing at each item on a timeline. “In three days time, Plytor and the Silence of Night will jump in with a Monarch class dropship.” He pointed to the next item. “The Monarch will arrive here after a few days in transit, where two hundred people will board to travel to Winfield. I am one of them, of course, and thanks to Camille,” he nodded to her, “I already have my passport.”
The name on the passport was Gary Stuwart, and Gast had to keep drumming it into himself to answer to that name. To help him, the rest of the unit had started calling him ‘Gary’, and if he did not respond, he would have to do ten pushups as punishment.
Needless to say, his upper body was pretty sore for the first few days.
“To make it clear that I am rich, but not that rich, and trying to stretch my funds, I will be travelling as a standard passenger, not first class. Rich enough to have a bit of status and to travel off-world, but not much more than that.”
“Once the Monarch gets back to the jumpship, we will jump to Winfield, and spend about two weeks there on tour. As this is a once-off trip, most of the passengers will be with the tour group and travel with the Monarch back to Farnsworth once the tour is complete. For me, however, I plan to travel to Delacambre on additional ‘business’, so I will stay on Winfield for about a month, maybe more.”
He pointed to the next item on the timeline. “Thanks to the Comstar HPG, we know there is a semi-regular Buccaneer run carrying goods and people between Winfield and the Trivet worlds, about once every three or four months. We have already booked a seat on the Buccaneer in advance. To further my cover, we do not anticipate any of the Farnies to do the same, since that is a lot of waiting. During that time, I will lay low on Winfield before boarding the cargo ship to Delacambre. Once there, I will begin my actual mission.”
Gast listed the priority targets. “Military base locations, strength of defenders. Most importantly, where Finn Rason could be. He is the ruler of the world, he should be on it. But a lot of it, I would probably have to improvise. Collect as much data and information as I can, we will analyse it for weaknesses and possible vulnerabilities when I get back.”
He then brandished his noteputer, the coyote bone bracelet around his wrist jingling as he shook the noteputer in his hand. “As our in-house hacker, I should be able to hack into the local systems and extract the information we need.”
They all nodded. It was risky, of course, but dropping in blind was probably even worse. Back in the clan occupation zone, the constant raiding back and forth at least yielded some modicum of information for them to conduct their raids, so there was no need for infiltrators.
Besides, the tight border security on both sides made it nearly impossible for any infiltration anyway. At the most, a raid might leave some infiltrators behind, who would then require another raid for extraction after they had completed their mission. But obviously such tactics suited the Inner Sphere far better than the Clans, who were never quite able to develop the necessary fieldcraft techniques.
Whatever intel they managed to get on a raid were often thanks to Gast, who had worked hard to improve his skills. There had been occasions where they had netted additional supplies or useful data on raids with his efforts.
In the current situation, they knew they had a decent chance. After all, this was an unimportant backwater of the Federated Suns, Commonwealth, or whatever the Spheroids called it. From Camille’s discreet inquiries, mainly through the local criminal organisations, it seemed like the intelligence security apparatus of the state was decidedly lacking in the Outback worlds. Perhaps just an office staffed by a handful of personnel, if there was any at all. Farnsworth, for example, even with the Comstar HPG, did not warrant a barebones office of the Ministry of Information Intelligence and Operations.
Or maybe it was so well hidden nobody knew where it even was.
The only thing that remotely resembled an intelligence operation was actually the local Com Guard garrison, who operated a series of listening posts and satellites scattered across the system, plus their own contacts within the Farnsworth population. The local commander, a senior Adept, had already dropped in on them several times since, and Erlin was relatively sure that the Adept had sussed out their true identities, but did not take any action because they posed no real threat.
Gast continued, “I only have a short window to operate, about a week. After one week, the Buccaneer would lift off Delacambre, and I would need to be on it for transit through Winfield. From Winfield, Plytor would pick me up, and I would return here if all goes well. The alternative is for us to meet at Winfield instead, so it depends.”
They exchanged thoughtful looks. It was the best plan they could come up with.
Several days later, Gary Stuwart boarded the Monarch class dropship Joyful Song. He wore a business suit, and looked uncomfortable in it, inadvertently reinforcing the impression of a Farnie hick who somehow got rich, still unused to the trappings of wealth but yet unwilling to buck its traditions and expectations.
Kalinska Estate, Inman,
Milligan PDZ, Woodbine Operational Area,
6th November, 3061
0600 hours (1000 hrs on local 28 hr cycle)
“The politics of all this is making my head spin,” Anastasia complained as she tried to digest the implications of the latest bombshell.
It was apparently such a major piece of news that Comstar had decided to blast it through all their networks almost immediately.
The deposed Prince, Victor Steiner-Davion, was now Precentor-Martial of Comstar. And he had cast Comstar’s deciding vote against Katrina Steiner-Davion from being the First Lord of the Star League. There were apparently a lot of shenanigans and dirty dealings behind the scenes.
“Don’t complain.” Hawise remarked as she spun a pen idly across her fingers. “Theodore Kurita is now First Lord, and Victor is the SLDF’s Commanding General.” She shook her head. “We should be concerned about how this affects your plans going forward.”
They were in Anastasia’s room, with clear instructions not to be disturbed under almost any circumstances. For additional security, Hawise had posted one of the more trustworthy guards outside the door. If there really was a need to call them, he could always beep on the wristcomp to alert Hawise.
“No change, quiaff?” Anastasia frowned. “We are still building up our forces on Altoona.”
“Aff,” Hawise agreed readily, “but you really need to think about how to open up an opportunity to isolate or weaken Pence Lamongue’s position. The way I see it, the best way is to support Raymond Haynes. The fight for the Countship will undoubtedly draw in Pence, and if Renard’s position is weakened, so is Pence.”
“Raymond is just another conniving schemer. I hate those.” sneered Anastasia. “Pass.”
“But he’s engaged to Lady Codina, and you’re on good terms with her.” Hawise pointed out. “People will naturally tie you to his faction, even if your father is still in Renard’s.” Her tone turned acid. “Your stunt with the Waterbug made a lot of waves, even if you said you didn’t do anything else. You should have kept a low profile!”
Anastasia rolled her eyes. “Anastasia Kalinska was always notorious, and it’s not gotten any better since I became her.” She recalled what Venice had said to her. Stay true to yourself.
“I will not apologise for piloting a Waterbug. Things might have gotten worse for Finn, and…” She paused. And then what? Why should she be concerned with him anyway?
Hawise smirked. “And then what? He might have gotten hurt, quiaff?”
Anastasia retorted defensively. “He’s a vital part of the Trivet’s defences.”
“Then why not ask Viscount Rason to side with Raymond Haynes? The two of them together should be enough to grind Renard down and expose Pence Lamongue.”
Anastasia shook her head adamantly. “I will not manipulate him. Finn is dedicated to his role to defend the Trivet, not get caught up in petty succession squabbles. And I find myself agreeing with him.”
Hawise threw her hands up in exasperation. “Then how do you expect to pry open any opportunity to get to Pence Lamongue?” She took a deep breath, then said, “Let us work backwards. To fight Pence, you need a better mech. That is the Spirit Walker, which is currently in the possession of Renard Haynes. To get it, you must either steal it, which is currently impossible, or engineer events in such a way to bring about Renard’s downfall.” She concluded firmly, “And to bring down Renard, you need to find some way to discredit him and remove him from power!”
“You make it sound so simple.”
Hawise sighed, “It really is that simple, just that you refuse to see it any other way.”
Anastasia replied, “I understand what you mean, but I want to seek my vengeance in the right way. Manipulating Finn… I will not do it.” She gave Hawise a firm look. “The Spirit Walker is not the only option, there could be others. And who knows? Maybe Pence will discredit himself in some scandal and I might get the opportunity to duel him in Waterbugs. We bide our time.”
“Aff, Lady Kalinska,” drawled Hawise. “But don’t say I did not warn you, quineg?”
Anastasia shrugged. “Neg, you did warn me.”
Rason Estate
Finn groaned after he finished reading the message, received via HPG from New Avalon, “This is not good. Not good at all.”
Eric, still recovering from his injuries, asked carefully. “What, my lord?”
Finn looked at him for a moment, before he said, “My old comrades in the First Davion Guards are asking me if I would like to join them for a game of bull jumping.”
Eric blinked. “Huh?”
Finn explained patiently. “Bull jumping is something of a tradition on some parts of New Avalon, and the Guards decided to adopt that tradition as part of the hazing ritual for new recruits. But generally, to ask somebody to go bull-jumping is to ask them to take part in something dangerous or stupid. Usually both.”
“Uhhh, so are you going to travel to New Avalon, my lord?”
Finn shot Eric an exasperated look. “No, I’m not travelling to New Avalon. They’re using a metaphor.”
“For what?”
“To join their eventual rebellion against Katrina Steiner-Davion, of course.”
“My lord!” Eric was understandably aghast at the very notion.
Finn held up a hand. “I’m not going to do it. I have responsibilities to the Trivet, even if a lot of people seem to have forgotten theirs. That said, Katrina’s not winning herself any new fans from the way she’s treating the rest of the Federated Commonwealth.”
When Katrina took over rulership of the Federated Commonwealth from her younger sister Yvonne, there was a window of opportunity for her to cement her rule by simply allowing the disaffected voices to be heard. It was, after all, how the Federated Suns had been governed for centuries, even if all the talk never amounted to much.
It was, he reflected, a natural response since her entire image depended on a flawless public perception, and she had probably subconsciously viewed any critique of her rule as a threat to her image, and hence her claim to power. Katrina clamped down hard on the freedom of speech in the realms she ruled, and according to reports from his contacts in MIIO and the regular army, slowly restricted other freedoms as well. Ironically, this only elicited further resistance to her rule, and the flames were spreading.
The only reason why the Trivet seemed to have been spared was probably because of Renard and his faction, who had been quite effective in controlling any local dissent against the Archon Princess, thus obviating any actions on her part. But if Raymond’s growing power threatened this status quo, the Archon Princess and her supporters would be forced to intervene.
Finn’s face grew hard. He recalled the massive battles on the Clan front during Bulldog, and imagined the same happening to Inman, Altoona, and Delcambre. An invisible hand seemed to grip his heart. What would happen to the people of the Trivet? What would happen to Ana?
His heart felt like it was caught in an invisible vise. Finn tried to calmly assess the situation again.
True, Raymond was now a contender for the Countship, but he could not do it on his own, not without the support of the nobles who also supported Victor. If Finn read the situation right, it was only because of Lady Codina that Raymond had decided to finally enter the game. And if Raymond won the Countship, Katrina would be compelled to send in troops because there was a high chance the nobles backing Raymond would refuse to support her government, and Raymond would have no choice but to follow along because he would be beholden to them for their support.
Simply blocking the crucial germanium exports from Altoona alone would be viewed as an act of war.
What can I do? Finn thought of his options. He could choose to finally back a side. And the side he supported would probably win the Countship, especially if it came to a shooting war. However, he was disgusted by Renard, while supporting Raymond brought its own dangers, particularly in terms of the response by the Archon Princess.
Staying neutral, however, would at least preserve his military strength for whatever happened next. Regardless of who won the Countship, he did not expect matters to settle peacefully outside the Trivet. They had to be ready.
He finally said to Eric, “Prepare a HPG message to send to Delacambre. I will be jumping for my demesne in a few weeks. I have been away for too long, and there are matters I need to settle there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
He could feel it, the sense of impending doom. It was only a matter of time.
War.
-----------------------------
Only five people on Inman can battle a slattern one-on-one successfully in a Waterbug: Ana, Finn, Pence, Raymond, and Hawise. Nobody else is skilled enough. The slattern was shamelessly stolen from Pacific Rim, but modified, of course. A kaiju is far bigger than any mech!
November is when the Star League Conference is ongoing. Victor was revealed as the new Precentor-Martial on 5 November 3061 - news of this would percolate almost immediately across the HPG network.
Katrina actually ruled most similarly to a traditional Lyran Archon. Despite their wealth and mercantile bias, politically the Lyran Commonwealth had always behaved more like 19th century Germans in space, led by a near absolute ruler (Kaiser = Archon). Even the Estates General doesn’t have any power except that delegated to it by the Archon, and could be ignored if an Archon deems it necessary (as Katrina did).
Note the setup of the Lyran government and the functions of their intelligence services. The existence of Loki, their secret police branch, mirrors certain specified divisions within the ISF (Mokonete) and Maskirovka (皇帝意志/Chancellor’s Will), and does not seem to have an equivalent in the Federated Suns or Free Worlds League (to be fair, Counter Intel in SAFE is rumoured to serve this function). Of course, this is not to say that MIIO or SAFE never did nasty secret police stuff, they probably did, but the very act of designating a specific division for this purpose says something about a government’s priorities.
