Opalescent Reflections
Epilogue
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
4 May 3066“Everything has changed, and yet nothing has,” Melissa Steiner-Davion told Wei Rong.
The Primus nodded quietly. “For all those who mourn and, my apologies, those who will celebrate his passing… in the political sense it changes very little. You and your children have been carrying out most of his duties for years. But now you will be doing so without him, and that is a very personal wound.”
The coffin of Hanse Davion had been carried into the mausoleum beneath Castle Davion, to lie alongside his brother, his father and eight hundred years of Davions before them. Through the funeral, the black-clad Archon had been with her family but now, as her sons joined Hanse Davion’s few remaining peers as pallbearers, she had sought out Wei.
Melissa closed her eyes for a moment. “I had been considering this for a while, but seeing this… I think Candace had the right idea.”
Wei gave her a curious look. “I generally wouldn’t suggest making major life choices in a time of grief.”
“It isn’t a spur of the moment decision.”
“And which of Duchess Liao’s decisions do you intend to follow?”
“Abdication.” The word was barely a whisper, Melissa not wishing to be overheard. “I want your nomination next year to lead the Star League Council.”
Candace Allard-Liao had been elected as Chair of the Star League Council in 3059 during the aftermath of the Clan War. The stresses of integrating Clan ruled worlds, not to mention the Kuritan Civil War (the Black Dragon Society had been entirely convinced that a Liao chairwoman and Taurian commanding general would send SLDF after them, damn the cost, if they used weapons of mass destruction), had demanded so much of her time and taken her away from her realm so much that after two years her children had been in effective control of the Compact.
At the same time that Candace stepped down in favor of Mitchell Avellar, the duchess had announced her abdication in favor of Kai Allard-Liao, retiring to the Liao estates on the world that her dynasty had sprung from. So far as Wei knew, Candace had not returned to St Ives since. “I was under the impression that you are on better terms with your children.”
“Yes. But I don’t want to leave them inheriting the way I did, or like Hanse.” Melissa smiled quietly. “It is selfish of me, but this is what Hanse and I were working towards.”
Wei looked over at the doorway, where the eight men were emerging from the final resting places of First Princes. “Do give him some warning.”
“Is that an agreement?” the Archon asked.
“You’re not a poor choice, but I am just one vote. And who knows if the First Circuit may not replace me before then.”
“Now I know you are joking.”
Wei arched an eyebrow. “Given the nature of our conversation, do you think I am not tiring of office?” The ceremonies for completing the restoration of the solar shade had been a triumph, but everything since had felt anti-climatic. No one was pushing back at her any more and that was probably a bad sign.
“Do you have plans?” the older woman asked curiously.
Wei thought of the colony projects out in the deep periphery - worlds the Explorer Corps had found, far from the Clans and fresh starts for people unhappy with the new status quo that had followed the end of the Clan Invasion. They would need someone to steer them free from becoming some new outside threat - or at least to maintain ties between them and the Inner Sphere. “New frontiers, if I can convince the First Circuit to let me go.”
“Ah.” Melissa smiled sadly. “Good luck. I’ll see if I can corner another vote or two while so many people are here.”
Wei watched the Archon head off towards where the St Ives attendees were, no doubt planning to corner the duke once he rejoined his family, and turned away… only to almost run into a tall figure in jade green.
“Council Chair,” the man offered in mild apology for the near-collision, reaching out to steady her.
Wei accepted the helping hand. “Khan Pryde.” Not all those attending the funeral were from the Star League.
“I was hoping to speak to you and the Archon,” Aidan Pryde admitted. “But I see she has other business.”
“It might not be the best day,” she told him, releasing the Jade Falcon’s hand. “I’m not her gatekeeper though.”
“I would be satisfied to make an appointment for another day,” he observed. “I do have some idea what it is to lose… family, if not quite as you see it here.”
Wei looked up slightly at him and saw some understanding. “What do you wish to discuss?”
He looked out over the city that sprawled below Castle Davion. While the mausoleum entrance was lower than most of the ancient structure, it still had a magnificent view. “Our ceasefire with the Federated Commonwealth has lasted for six years, but it is close to its end. I am looking for peace treaty to replace it.”
“You see no reason for conquests in the Inner Sphere when you are overrunning more vulnerable periphery realms?” she asked challengingly.
“Essentially true.” Pryde did not blush at the accusation. “While Prince Victor will have other concerns here, he is not the only skilled commander in the Federated Commonwealth. If he and the Archon want war, we will stand ready. But if they want peace, then my Clan is ready for that as well.”
Wei frowned in thought. She had read reports of the attacks on the Chainelaine Isles and the more distant Hanseatic League and they made it clear that the Jade Falcons and their closely allied Snow Ravens hadn’t lost their edge over the years. If anything, Focht’s military analysts suggested they had improved their tactics and logistics, making them even more dangerous. Their numbers were harder to judge…
“I am aware that you directly commanded the forces that seized our enclaves in 3058,” she probed.
Pryde nodded. “I did. Your warriors fought courageously and your interdiction placed us at war. But they were easy to treat with honor, and if there was any atrocity committed then I do not know where.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Wei lowered her gaze in acceptance of his point. Whatever might be said of Clan Jade Falcons, they were not behaving like the Steel Vipers or Smoke Jaguars. “You may not find many more settled worlds to conquer in the deep periphery.”
“The real problem of building an empire is not raising it,” he replied. “We will face many challenges in holding onto it. The other Clans will see to that, even if the Star League does not.”
“We can open negotiations,” she allowed. “I will put the matter to the Star League Council.”
“That is all I ask.”
“You will have to make concessions,” she warned him.
“Some give and take is part of any bidding,” Aidan told the Primus. Politics involved so much repetition of things both parties knew… when he was younger he would have lacked the patience. On the other hand, he had learned to study his opponents. “I believe I can persuade the Clan Council to release bondsmen who have chosen not to adapt to our ways, if they will not simply return against us in fresh war gear.”
He almost missed the slight tightening around her eyes as that hit home. Wei Rong could be pushed to war, it had happened twice. But she preferred not to fight if she could secure her goals without. She counted the cost of fighting higher than she did the rewards.
There were those on the Clan Council who considered that weakness, but few of them were veterans of Camlann or of the batterings the Clan had suffered on Arc-Royal and a dozen other worlds. ComStar remained little understood, but those who had faced them knew there was much to respect. As for the young… they would learn, if they survived.
“I will take it to the Council,” she said again. “Peace has its price. Your people taught me that.”
Aidan bowed his head slightly. “And your people taught us that sometimes we should pay that price.” He straightened and decided that he would be best not pressing harder. “Perhaps we will find the peace that your order speaks of.”
“A quest we are all on,” Wei told him. “The peace of Blake upon you, Khan Pryde.”
“And you,” he told her as they parted ways, imagining Joanna’s likely response if she was wished such a thing. The old warrior remained unreconciled to being set to training new warriors, but the expansion of training to include recruits from Inner Sphere and Periphery world made her skills too useful there. Aidan had ordered that she only be given cadets from the homeworlds though. Joanna would not be able to win over recruited cadets the way Horse managed to.
No, there was no peace for Joanna. And there would be no peace for Aidan Pryde, but unlike his one-time teacher he could see why others wanted it. An ideal, that like any other could not be achieved but was worth striving for anyway.
The Khan left the gravel path outside the mausoleum, crossing the grass to take the same direction the Archon had. He wasn’t the only one moving around to find people outside their immediate groups - with the interment over, there was time for socializing among the attendees. And given their nature, that meant networking and other political matters.
Aidan was so focused on looking for the Archon or for one of the younger Steiner-Davions - he had sent messages of course, but a personal connection would make things go far more smoothly - that he almost missed another collision, this one at the height of his knees.
There were very few children at the funeral - mostly only those who lived on New Avalon and for whom the journey would be a minimal disruption to their educations, he thought - but there were exceptions and two toddlers who seemed barely old enough to walk bumbled through the legs of others on the grass and one seized Aidan’s knee to keep himself from falling.
The second child attempted the same, but latched onto Aidan’s high, polished boot instead and failed to find purchase with his small hands, slowly slouching forwards towards the grass, making confused noises that suggested he did not understand why it wasn’t working.
Aidan froze, staring down at the children. What was he supposed to do here? He hadn’t been around children this age since he was one. Had Diana waddled around like this? He held his hands out slightly, wondering if he should reach down to stabilize the toddler.
Fortunately, a pair of liveried women were only a few paces behind and one scooped up the falling child in a competent fashion, sparing Aidan any livery. The boy giggled happily once he was in familiar arms.
The second servant tried to do the same with the other, but the child was clinging enthusiastically to Aidan’s pants. “I’m sorry, sir,” she apologized. “Come on, Trent. Let go of the nice man’s leg.”
“Wanna!” the child wailed as the woman gently but firmly started to work his fingers loose. It was obviously a task that required more delicacy than strength, Aidan thought.
“Trent, behave!” A blonde woman in one of the black dresses that seemed de rigueur for many of the attendees pushed through the crowd. Her gaze was down at the child but then she panned her gaze up Aidan and paled. “Come here!”
Brushing the servant aside, she stepped close and placed one hand on Aidan’s chest before wrapping her other arm around the boy’s waist heaving him away. There was a wail of protest from the boy as the woman backed up, curling her arms defensively around him.
“I’m sorry, milady,” one of the servants apologized.
Calming herself with a slow, deliberate breath in and out, the woman handed the boy to the servant, stroking his hair calmingly before doing the same to the other child, whose face was twisting up as if he too was distressed. “It’s been too much for them, take them back to the nursery please.”
“There was no harm done,” Aidan offered mildly.
Her head snapped around to him and he wondered how he had angered the woman. “Harm is not always intentional, Khan Pryde. St-” She forced calm on herself. “I do not want my children around you.”
“Tyra,” a tall man moved in as the servants took the children away, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, in a gentle embrace. “It’s alright, the boys are fine, everyone is fine now.” The resemblance to banners showing the face of the late First Prince at various ages made it clear that this must be one of his sons, most likely the second one, pressing a brief kiss to the top of the woman’s head.
“My… apologies for my words,” she forced out.
Aidan thought about what he had heard of the man and then paired with the name he’d used. “No apology is needed. I have been told that I am similarly protective of my own daughter,” he offered. To the point Diana had fought for a place leading the Falcon Guards cluster in order to get out of his shadow. “Tyra… Miraborg?”
“Davion,” the redhead corrected. “Miraborg-Davion.”
“Stop talking for me, Peter.” But, for all Tyra’s short tone, she didn’t try to leave her partner’s arms.
So it was nothing personal - the Iron Jarl’s Daughter had never faced the Jade Falcons in battle, but at least one song was sung of her in the Wolves’ worlds. He had heard it when visiting the Jade Falcon’s oldest rival. Keeping one’s enemies close was not a wisdom lost on the Clans. “I know little of small children,” he allowed. “But I understand them to be delicate, and I take no offense at your caution for their care.”
“I do not fear you taking offense,” she told him in a warning tone.
“Good,” Aidan said with a smile. “Fear is a poor basis for peace.” He looked up at Peter Steiner-Davion. “I hope to speak with the Archon of an enduring peace between our nations, but today is clearly not the right day for that conversation. My condolences on your loss.”
“I’ll pass your sentiments on to the Archon,” Tyra’s husband replied, his arms still warm around her. “It may be Victor that you end up negotiating with.”
The Jade Falcon smiled, but there was a twist to his lips that suggested he was not entirely happy at the idea. “Perhaps he will refrain from kicking me in the groin this time.”
“You are the same Khan Pryde?” Tyra asked, recalling that story - one that had been much recited after their return to the Inner Sphere. Victor had confirmed that there was some truth to it during a conversation at her wedding. “I am surprised that you are alive, much less still Khan.”
That got a sigh from Pryde. “No one can expect to win every trial they fight,” he replied. “Some Clans may assume that any failure is a fatal weakness, but most of Clan Jade Falcon will admit that the ability to come back from a defeat should be respected.”
She thought back to the long struggle to win back worlds from the Clans, one still going on in places. “The way we did?”
The Jade Falcon nodded quietly. “Kindra Osis-Howell may curse the name of Tyra Miraborg, but others take your story as a warning for those who take the Inner Sphere lightly.”
“It doesn’t stop you taking bondsmen!”
“No, but it tells us that we have to win their loyalty. The price of not doing so is too high.”
Peter closed his arms around Tyra a little tighter. “I’ll pass on your message to my family.”
The Khan inclined his head in acceptance and made a wise retreat, his tall straight form moving back into the crowd of guests.
“The boys were holding him,” Tyra whispered. “He could have done anything.”
She felt her husband brush the top of her head with his lips. “He didn’t. Perhaps we should not have brought them. Let’s go back to our family.”
Tyra nodded in agreement and Peter withdrew her arms, then taking her hand. “You were right that we can’t protect them from everything, but we should have kept a closer eye on the twins.” She knew they were rambunctious and would probably get worse as they were more confident of their ability to walk and run, and combined with the large number of guests…
“A lesson learned without any harm done.” She got a caring smile from Peter. “I see Victor, we can tell him the message and then let it go.”
“You can see him? In this crowd?” Her brother-in-law wasn’t quite as short as popular legend have it, but he would certainly be hard to see here.
“Well, I see Omi and her security,” Peter corrected himself. “Where else would he be?”
Tyra yielded the point and followed him, fending off those offering condolences that were - like Pryde’s - an excuse to advance some agenda. They found Victor and Omi benefiting from a loose perimeter of Otomo, First Davion Guards and most importantly of aides filtering through those wishing to speak to them and moving on those who had.
Probably also doing the job of keeping track, Tyra thought. Victor had a fantastic memory for military matters but his ability to keep petitioners straight was merely average and he was always overburdened by demands for his attention… something that would only get worse now.
“They look good together,” she observed, seeing Omi quietly defuse and deflect a man with the topknot customary of Draconis March nobles. Despite her Kurita lineage, the man took Omi’s words with a smile and let himself be guided away, making room for Peter and Tyra to enter the perimeter.
“Enjoying being free to be seen together in public?” Peter asked irreverently.
Victor looked up slightly at his younger brother’s face before turning towards her. “Good to see you Tyra,” he offered. “How are you holding up?”
“I ran into Khan Pryde,” she admitted. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask you to kick him again.”
“The ceasefire’s up soon and I don’t think he wants a war,” Victor agreed. “I don’t think we do either, but both of us want to grind concessions out of the other side too.” He made a face. “I’m glad I don’t need to decide that alone.”
Omi stepped forwards and exchanged kisses with Tyra, before bowing slightly to Peter.
“Oi,” he protested. “Didn’t I support the two of you even before Dad gave you public blessing to court?”
“Betting Arthur thirty kroner that I’d abdicate to be with Omi isn’t support,” Victor complained. “You and Katherine would be slap-fighting over the throne if I did that, and she fights dirty.”
Tyra wasn’t sure that was entirely a joke, but she was deeply grateful that, six months before, Hanse had grumpily told Victor and Omi to ‘just kiss already’, during open court that was going out on live holovid. There had been a public furore (particularly since Victor had obediently done just that) but the open and clear support of the First Prince had kept it within reason.
And now that he was dead, it would be very hard to argue with him. Alive, Hanse Davion was a political leader who could be fallible occasionally. Dead, he was a revered legend.
“I had no opinion before I met you both,” Tyra admitted, “But for what it is worth, you have my support.”
“Thank you,” Victor said sincerely. “This is why you are my favorite sister-in-law.”
“Say that again once Arthur settles down,” she joked. But it was true, she did support Victor marrying Omi Kurita. Or anyone, really, just so long as he had heirs to stand between Tor, Trent and the throne. For all Peter’s occasional jest at his own qualifications to be First Prince, he had avoided court with her until her pregnancy was discovered. Tyra had been seriously tempted to return to the Flying Drakons the moment she was fit to fly, regardless of the politics of going into the Draconis Combine -
And how it hurt to know that after all her father’s struggles, the Free Rasalhague Republic was reduced to an Autonomous Prefecture of the Combine!
- but they had compromised with a posting as instructor at Armstrong Flight Academy, on Galax. Peter’s Third Davion Guards would be rotating there as garrison for the next two years, and after that… well. They would see.
“If Arthur marries someone who understands duty as you do, we will be triply blessed,” the First Prince told Tyra sincerely. And for a moment, she saw that he knew exactly what she feared for Tor and Trent.