DARIUS AT THE CORONATION
THE MISADVENTURES OF DARIUS DAVION
- 2 -
- Prologue -
It's never a good idea to ignore the advice of quacks and mix strong medication and booze. But that's just what I did after I attended young Katty Steiner-Davion's sixteenth birthday ball, the other day at the Palace. I'd only decided to accept the invite, which was only sent I think as a formality organised by the Palace staff, at the last moment. It was pure chance that I happened to actually be in Avalon City, visiting the College of Biology and Medicine at the NAIS, on that week.
My prosthetic left hand might be the best money could buy, but as my years advance I do find it's use gives me increasingly severe migraines and I'd decided to let the egg-heads at Hanses's thinking shop have a look at it, to see if there was anything to be done that might alleviate the problem.
Naturally they prodded, poked, hummed and hawed, asked me to drop my trousers for a rectal examination, then simply proscribed two powerful painkiller tabs, to be taken twice per day, and sent me on my way. Typical of the NAIS medicos in my experience. I thank Jesus and Jerome I was lucky enough to get a Canopian prosthetic in the first place, well you only have to compare my hand with the monstrosity the NAIS lumbered old Justin Allard with to see what I mean.
Anyhoo, there I was, bluff, only very slightly aging old Hauptmann General Darius Davion, the much decorated hero of countless campaigns and it is commonly rumoured, much vital backstairs work on behalf of our great nation, somewhat doped up on potent pain killers and at a loose end in the boring tamed capital city of Hanse's enormous empire. The invite hit the carpet of my room at the Lyonesse, where I like to stay when in town as, unlike the rest of the city, it seems to be an unchanging constant.
Grumbling to myself at this intrusion, as I'd been about to try to find out how one orders hot strumpet these days in AC, I ran my eyes over the expensive invite;
-Her Highness, Princess Katherine Morgan Steiner-Davion, cordially invites her beloved Uncle Darius to attend her at her Birthday Ball. To be held at the Davion Palace, Avalon City, on the night of the 16th November.- Well, it had been some time since I'd shown my face at Court and I knew my presence at Katty's bash would annoy Hanse no end, so I dug out my blue and golds, rang down to reception to get a flunky up to buff and polish my medals and a few hours later was dressed to the nines, wearing all my tin and getting out of a hover-limo at the Palace Gates. There were 'Mechs from the First Guards and others bearing the crest of the First Fed Com RCT standing watch, as I strolled up, a wrapped present under my arm, flashing my invite and ID.
Katty's birthday party was being held in the Palace's main ball room, which is a vast and suitably opulent mixture of architectural styles. Lit by a hundred crystal chandeliers and being large enough to accommodate several hundred revellers, I was not immediately spotted as I sauntered through the crowds of young officers, teenaged nobility, bored chaperones, and harassed servants who hurried hither and yon with trays of soft drinks and nibbles.
However I was all too soon chatting to a couple of star-struck young Sakhara cadets, who'd managed to wrangle a four week pass in order to attend the party and had become weak at the knees when they spotted me.
"Yes that's right lads, you just need to swipe a cockpit ladder and you can be down and through the grounds in no time. Oh, you really should check to see if the Lady's Dice is still there and -" Well I suddenly felt a hand drop onto my shoulder interrupting my wise and sagely advice to the younger generation, and for just a second I thought I was about to turn around and come face to face with old Asa Goldstein ready to lash me for leading the cadets astray. It was unfortunately worse than that.
"Oh hello Hanse. Lovely party." I beamed, all innocence.
The First Prince of the Federated Suns and architect of the Federated Commonwealth stared at me coldly. He's not showing his years well if you ask me, oh I know the court press claim he's as fit as an Armour Bear that's just woken from hibernation, but he's only sixty six after all and yet his red hair is all but grey-white now and he's definitely carrying around quite a belly on him. At the party he was wearing a smart black evening suit, a white silk shirt, black bow tie and a lapel pin set with the Fed Com emblem twinkled at his breast. His always unnerving clear blue eyes looked me over, a slight twist of distaste showing on his wide features, perhaps because of my ostentatious display of my many medals.
"What are you doing here Darius? I thought we'd agreed you were in retirement on Killarney?" He finally growled and I smiled, guessing little Katty had had the good sense not to let her father vet the guest list for this shindig.
"I was here to visit the NAIS, y'know how much I love that old place and today as I was about to book an early flight home I received an invite from my favourite niece to her birthday party. What? I couldn't say no surely?" I was digging at him a bit there I'll own ... my connections with the NAIS have not always been good and I caused a deuced embarrassing scandal by slagging the place off in the press back in '23, which Hanse had been furious about at the time.
"Hmph." He grouched, for a moment seeming for all the world very similar to Ian in a temper. Then wagging his finger at me and piercing me with those blue deadlights of his, he lowered his voice and said quietly to me;
"Very well then. But I warn you Darius ... any mischief here tonight and I'll see that you never come within two jumps of New Avalon again." He meant it too, so I smartly saluted and tried my best to bite my tongue ... he was being an ungrateful swine after all I've gone through for him down the years, but what could I do?
Thankfully at that moment I was saved by the arrival of Ardan Sortek and on his arm a cracking looking little piece of stuff. I smiled genuinely at Sortek ... hullo Darius? I bet you're thinking. This is
the Ardan Sortek right? The man who you detest and loathe? Oh yes, I was smiling genuinely at him because the swine's rapidly been going bald over the last couple of years and is now wearing his hair in a ridiculously comical comb-over. It was all I could do not to burst out laughing.
Draped on his arm though as I say was this striking young bint and I quickly ignored the bald coot to study her; damn but she was a fine piece and no error. Lithe, blonde, with blue eyes and a wicked smile that said 'I'm trouble and know it'. She was wearing an long ice-blue gown, which was low cut enough that she was threatening to spill out the top, and split so that her graceful pins were divertingly visible as she walked.
I knew she wasn't anything to do with Sortek, that ass could never pull a tasty bit of crumpet like this and then immediately I realised the obvious; this was Katty. Good grief though, I thought, she's really grown up since I last saw her.
Sortek smiled at Hanse, but was distinctly cool towards me, simply nodding in my direction. We've had several ups and downs in our relationship over the years, I was mainly behind him resigning from the Guards in '24 for example and though he came to respect me again during the Silver Eagle Affair and later the Fourth Succession War, we'd fallen out during the '39 and have never reconciled. Not that I give a damn of course.
"Uncle Darius." Katty suddenly squealed as she spotted us, having previously been consumed with surveying the throng of guests with an air of contented superiority, and pulling out of Sortek's grasp she flung herself happily against me, her arms hugging me tight and her head pressed against my medals. I understand Sortek was acting as her chaperone for the evening and I noted happily he looked most put out to have lost control of her. I hugged the princess back and then gently held her shoulders and smiled down at her.
"I'm sorry miss I don't know you. I came here to celebrate the birthday of the little Princess I used to take for rides in my 'Mech and you're clearly some important Lady, but could never be her." She loved this and hit my half breastplate pretty hard in playful good humour.
"Oh stop it Uncle. You're such a teaser." I've always been good with kids and I made it a point to try to be friends with all of Hanse's brood, but even when they'd been crawling I'd only really liked Katty. She'd always been such a vain creature, totally self centred and quite the bully when she was younger ... perhaps that's why we always got on and still do. I detested Victor from day one mind you, he's such a simpering little prig.
"Your wish ... as ever ... is my command, Highness." I said bowing and playing the chivalric knight, which made her simper and blush. I know she has a crush on me, well what gal in her right mind wouldn't? However I may be a bounder, but I'm not stupid, she's Hanse's little treasure and I wasn't going to give him reason to think I was anything towards her but a rarely seen relative.
"Now then Highness, your present." I swung up the parcel and she clapped her hands, her blue eyes wide with delight, then tore it from me and shredded the paper in seconds. As the explosion of wrapping paper drifted down to the floor, she was left holding a black wooden box, with an eager expression across her lovely features she cautiously opened the lid and gasped, drawing out a slightly faded blue silk scarf set with the Steiner fist. She looked a little disappointed so I took it and draped it about her neck.
"This belonged to your grandmother, Archon Katrina. She gave it to me as a gift, oh long ago on Tharkad." It had been in '17 in fact, during my travels in the Lyran Commonwealth. I'd chosen to give this to Katty as I knew she'd been very interested in the reign of her late grandmother when I'd last met her.
"Ohh ... ohhh Uncle, this is the best present this year." She said in awe and hugged me hard again. I was satisfied and noted the sour looks from Hanse, Sortek and a gathering crowd of others. Well I'd trumped them y'see, sauntered in with a present I hadn't even needed to lay any bunce out for and beaten all their, no doubt, extremely pricey gifts.
"But I didn't know you knew Grandmother?" Katty asked me, as she beamed up at me with wide eyed curiosity, and I couldn't help myself;
"Oh yes, we were quite the item at one time." Her eyes grew all the wider and she stepped back.
"You and she were ... an item?" At that Hanse cleared his throat and quickly stepped up to us, flashing a dangerous warning glare in my direction.
"I don't think your party is the proper place for one of Darius's tall tales Katherine." Well, he was just miffed because back then I'd spread it about that it had been him shagging Katrina and not me. She'd been a good ride by the way, she might have been the Archon in her court, but in the bedroom she was a Periphery Pirate, if you follow my drift.
"Oh dadddeeee. Please let Uncle Darius tell his story." Katty whined and even stamped her foot precociously, I could see she must have Hanse wrapped around her little finger generally, but there was no way Hanse would let me tell the story of my affair with Katrina at this doo. Or any other come to that. Sure enough Hanse bustled Katty away, just giving her the chance to peck my cheek and flutter her pretty lashes at me one more time, before leaving me to a chilly silence stood at the edge of the dance floor with Sortek.
Spotting that awful brat Victor making his way our direction and waving and calling out to us, I shoved my glass of lemonade into Sortek's hand and ducked off smartish down a side passage leaving the ball behind me.
* * *
I strolled back to town through the Peace Garden, making a detour to stand before my own statue, you've probably seen it yourself. It shows a fair representation in bronze of the younger me, back when I was nineteen, carrying Ian's wounded body over my shoulder, a look of stern concentration upon my face. The plaque at the base of the statue reads;
'In grateful thanks, from a grieving nation. We record here the actions of Darius Davion, on Mallory's World in October 3013, when at great personal risk he rescued the body of First Prince Ian Davion from the Kuritans. Never has the Davion motto Audacity, Bravery, Destiny been more apt than when applied to this act.' It's a little wordy for my taste, but it's nice to stand there by night, under the moonlight, and see yourself as a youngster in your prime. Oh I'm no broken down wreck now I'm fifty five. Unlike Sortek, my black hair is still full, if somewhat grey-white at the temples, my many wounds ache in cold weather, my midriff may be somewhat sturdier than in the past and my handsome features bear the lines of scars and old age, but it's been said they simply make me look rugged and interesting.
Mind you the local avian life seemed to regard my monument as just another place to crap, as Ian's body and my head were caked in a yellow-white crust of bird-shit.
Wandering off down towards the lights of the town, I began to remember those times, my mind flying some thirty five years back. Mallory's World, my many horrific scrapes there, using Ian as a human shield against the fire of Yorinaga in his
Warhammer. Then inevitably, considering my route, I began to recall the dark and in their own way as terrifying events that immediately followed my return to New Avalon with Ian's frozen corpse.
Deep in thought as I was my feet led me, seemingly of their own accord, to the Fox Den Tavern. It's one of the few drinking establishments that was around back then and yet survives to this day. You may know it, it's pretty much the Guards Brigade's favourite pub, located on a quiet street at the bottom of the Mount, it's nondescript door lit by a pair of sodium street lamps.
I pushed in and the pair of burly veterans who were sat there as bouncers took one look at my blue and gold uniform, it's breast groaning with half a ton of medals, then looked up to my face and recognising me instantly, stood aside while drawing themselves up into smart salutes.
"Eevn'nin Gen'ral Davion Suhr!" They growled and I flipped them a quid each, then went on in. The Den is decorated to appear like an olde worlde English country pub, from the old planet, all dark oaken beams, alcove like nooks, a real open fireplace, polished wooden tables, stuffed leather armchairs and along one wall a long high bar where Guards troopers and officers were usually propped or sat on barstools. Paintings big and small of heroic actions of the AFFS crowded the walls, alongside fading holos of notable MechWarriors and nobles. The only really jarring reminders of reality were the giant vid-screen that sometimes was hung over the bar, a few tables at the back that had tri-vid players built into their centres, and an ATM cash dispenser over by the door to the 'Gents and Ladies'.
It was a quiet night naturally, what with every young blade in the Brigade up on the Mount dancing and trying to pull. The older coves were up there too, standing around watching from the sidelines, while gassing with each other about their campaigns and toadying to the Prince and his dreadful family. I went in and smiled to get the attention of the buxom wench at the bar, she was a saucy looking trollop dressed up in period costume with her poonts pushed up and on display thanks to a tight corset.
Deciding I needed a drink, contrary to doctor's orders, I bought a pint of bitter then repaired to an armchair by the fireplace, after first ordering the speciality of the house; roast beef, roast taters, thick gravy and all the trimmings. In my youth I'd have sneered at this kind of simple fare, but I find it a strange fact that as I grow older my taste in food is becoming more pedestrian, I do still insist on the best ingredients and that it's cooked well of course.
After stuffing myself and drinking another few pints I was feeling pretty peeky and leaning back in the chair I allowed a wave of contended sleepiness to wash over me. As my eyelids drooped and I gazed into the warm fire crackling in the hearth I was sure I could hear that persuasive voice again like he was sat there with me once more.
"Think about it Darius ... I'll make you First Prince inside a year." I must have fallen asleep then, as I dreamt of the Funeral, the Coronation, and that bloody battle between our own, when the Fox showed his teeth for the first time. However I was suddenly awoken most rudely by some loud oafs stumbling in and up to the bar, clearly having come down from the Ball.
"
Nien, nien, Rufus. I tell you it vaz fate." A braying, Lyran German accented voice was shouting as I blinked my eyes open. "Destiny. Ze course of history zat put a man like Hans in ze right place, at ze right time. Likevize our ultimate victory uber alles is inevitable." Craning around to see who this boorish squarehead might be, I found there were three blue and gold uniformed Guards Leftenants with the patch of the Alex on their sleeves and one tall, muscular, blonde fellow wearing that absurd Lyran dress uniform of an officer of one of the Fed Com RCTs; dark blue jacket heavy with gold braid, red sash, pale blue pants with red piping. For all he looked like he'd fallen off the lid of a chocolate box, I reminded myself our Davion version was even uglier. A full length cloak indeed!
"I say, Helmut has a point Roof." One of the Alex boys replied happily. "Well, no other explanation for it is there? I mean the Succession Wars dragged on for what? Three centuries? Without anyone having the gumption to change anything. Back in Ian's day they barely understood tank and infantry tactics that are in basic training today." I began to feel my blood pressure rocket as I struggled to get out of my armchair and those young morons prattled on.
"Well, perrrhaps Josh. But destiny? Fate? I don't know about that. Surely it was common sense and bloody hard work." The squarehead butted in again at that.
"Vat is zis? Common Zense? Nien again I zay. Vee are destined to become zee rulers of zee new
Sternenbund. Who iz zere now zat can rezizt us? Deztiny I zay." D'you know those young idiots were lapping up this tosh. You hear it all over the place these days don't you? How it's only a matter of time before our glorious Fed Com will swallow up all the other Inner Sphere states and reform the Star League. It's complete nonsense of course and normally I'd just ignore them, or make a few pointed comments to wind them up, but on that night, with memories of Hanses's Coronation fresh in my mind and my belly swilling with pain killers and beer, I was in no mood for it.
Staggering out of my chair I positively bellowed at them;
"What's that you say? You damned pompous great Ellsie twerp you!" Well the little group at the bar all turned to face me astounded, especially the Fed Com 'Hauptmann'.
"Vat? How dare you zir!" He sputtered, turning red with fury, as I staggered up to them, my pins feeling deuced unstable I half realised.
"Dare? How dare I? Why I should put you through that wall, you pup." My blood was up though and my head spinning somewhat, to the extent I was prepared to risk a brawl, which as you know I'd normally avoid at all costs. However, even befuddled as I was, I was pretty sure the Alex boys would step in and they did.
"Steady Helmut ... d'you know who that is? It's General Darius Davion." I heard one of them hiss to the Ellsie behind his hand. Clearly startled at that, the red faced Hauptmann gulped and looked at me with real fear in his eyes, well they know me in Lyran space too y'know. However his pal Josh, a long faced exquisite with lazy eyes and fine black hair didn't look overly impressed.
"Beg 'pardon General sir," He said, his voice dripping with the arrogant disregard the young reserve for the elderly. "But we were just discussing the good fortune that saw Hanse become our leader and the inevitability of the Fed Com's imminent victory over it's foes. Surely you don't disagree with our sentiments?" He was playing with me, I could tell, but damn my temper was too high to ease down.
"Imminent victory? I don't know if you've looked at the star maps lately, you mincing pimp, but the Combine is defending one border with an army half as big as ours, while we have to defend three borders and that's not including our pretty hot Periphery Marches. How do you suggest we conquer the Combine when we can't even win back Quentin? Do they not teach you squits what happened to us during Operation Baldur in '44?
Besides, since Baldur has Hanse shown any inclination to pick another fight with anyone? Of course he hasn't you idiots. He knows we're over stretched as it is. We can hold what we have now, more or less, but there's no way we could take even Liao, without the Dragon snapping up worlds from us while we're occupied!" Their faces were masks of horror, except this Josh bastard who was looking at me pretty hard and seemed to have taken a real dislike to me, understandably perhaps.
"Hanse coming to power through fate? Destiny? What arrant rot. I should know damn your eyes, why if anything, or anyone, brought Hanse to the throne it was
me after all." Well, it was true, perhaps not in the way I'd meant it, but still. The others gasped in shock, but Josh simply laughed a short chuckle and raising an eyebrow sneered.
"Well, I had heard that yes. But I'd not wanted to suggest that if you'd run faster in Desolate Pass you might have saved Prince Ian."
"WHAAAAT?!?!" I roared again, before shouting at them some more. "You preening dandy! What would you bastards from the Alex know about it anyway? Why half of your regiment were trying to kill Hanse at the time!" I slowly became aware the bouncers were behind me. The First Guards Leftenants were deeply shocked by my words of course, except that swine Josh I'll be bound.
"Come along, Gen'ral suhr. Time for bed. Be a good gentleman now." I heard one of the doormen coaxing quietly in my ear. Then, just as I was about to tell these pups a thing or two more I actually saw him sitting at the end of the bar, in the shadows where he'd been all those years before. His face was covered by the darkness, but it was him all right, the man who'd planned to kill Hanse at the Coronation, he raised a glass of beer and I heard his voice distinctly.
"Good show, old fellow. Didn't I tell you when next we saw each other I would either be lord of New Avalon ... or dead meat?" I actually backed away from the bar, barged past the astounded bouncers and fled at full pelt from this spectre from my memories. I didn't stop running until I reached the Lyonesse and my suite, where I proceeded to get thoroughly drunk from the mini-bar and later woke on the floor with a stinking hangover.
Looking back, I knew the phantom at the end of the bar of the Fox Den had not arisen from his thirty five year old grave, but rather from the combination of booze, bad memories, pain killers and my anger at those idiots. Still it had given me a real start and I hurried to book an early passage off world. Now, sitting in my cabin aboard a comfortable civilian starliner, headed for the Jump Point, I shall lay down what actually happened all those years ago. Of my arrival back at Avalon City, Ian's Funeral, Hanse's Coronation, of the rampant ambition, political wrangling, of that mad-bad Guards officer who was trying to kill Hanse, the truth about his secret masters, of chases through the casinos and bars of old Avalon City before it was cleaned up by Hanse, dark plots, murder, of that lovely widow with the glimmering emerald eyes, of the climactic atmospheric drop and the forgotten bloody 'Mech battle that was waged across the gardens and parkland of a New Avalon estate barely fifty klicks from the capital itself.
You may not credit some of what I have to tell you, but I assure you it's all true. You can find most of the facts in the history books if you look hard enough, though Hanse and his brother's spymaster, the Truffle-Hunter, have seen to it that the affair has always been played down and few historians or commentators tell the whole story. So then, here it is, the tale of my exploits at the funeral of First Prince Ian and the subsequent Coronation of his brother Hanse.