the other option - our battletech

THE OTHER OPTION

KAPTEYNS FIRST STRIKE

BOOK 2 A gathering of spite

THE OTHER OPTION: KAPTEYN’S FIRST STRIKE Book 2: A Gathering of Spite

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Book 2

A Gathering of Spite


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3Chapter 23 Elmau, Bavaria, Terra. 15 September, 3023. Candace Liao looked around the conference table once everyone had seated themselves. To her right was Senior Colonel Pavel Ridzik, well tuned out in his CCAF dress uniform, but nevertheless, looking like he felt a little overawed. Candace had had to pull the Colonel into line twice already during the conferences regarding the coming war. Since the attempted assassination on the Liao family through poisoning, Candace had been required to assume a greater role in the leadership of her nation, hence her presence here. Her father was still a wreck, the doctors believing that his recovery would take two years and never be a complete one. Romano had recovered quickly, although the paranoia the attack generated had sent her further down the spiral of distrust and manic reaction to perceived threats. The little bitch bore watching before, now I have to double my caution. Her assault on Chesterton may have to be made a little harder than she anticipated, ensuring her glorious end as a martyr for the Capellan state. Candace still felt poorly of a morning, but each day since the attempt three months ago, she had felt a slight improvement.

To Candace’s left sat Precentor Sian, her plain features masking her keen intellect and ability to see to the heart of issues quickly and clearly. Candace valued her insight to a point, but knew better than to trust the ComStar Precentor too far.

Across from the Liao group was the Marik contingent, consisting of Captain‐General Janos Marik, appearing to be more life like than she had been led to believe he could. Her advisors had put this recovery down to his recent wins over Parliament and the return and assistance of his son Thomas. Thomas, quite and reserved, sat next to his father, leafing through the documents that sat before him, as they did before each person at the table. Candace knew Thomas would bear watching, as his assistance to his father so far had born the League new strength, strength that would one day be turned against the Capellan people. Completing the group opposite Candace was the ever present, yet ever demure, Precentor Atreus, a man almost as forgettable as Precentor Sian, but also just as effective.

The group to Candace’s right consisted of the party from the Draconis Combine. The young Coordinator, Theodore, had an air of confidence and power, one that despite its natural strength, paled next to that of his military advisor, Yorinaga Kurita. The man had an immense aura, it could almost be felt. Without even trying he dominated the table, but in a way that offered no threat or malice, it was just simply there. Candace suspected that Pavel’s ill humour was due to his own feeling of inadequacy compared to the presence of his equal from the Combine. Precentor Waterly had placed her aide as Precentor Dieron, Precentor Nishara Singh, a dark skinned waif of a woman of extraordinary beauty, with the Combine delegation.

The final group was that of ComStar, consisting of Precentor Myndo Waterly of Dieron herself, as self righteous and self assured as her father had said she would be. Precentor Dieron was flanked by her military advisors, the powerful looking Precentor Martial Angus


4Hamilton, a man who had so far not only impressed the three leaders present, but just as importantly their military advisors as well. The other man was simply introduced as Precentor Grahame Neville. He seemed to be subordinate to Hamilton, but was treated with great respect by the Precentor Martial. He was responsible for the supply and transport of ComStar and allied supplies and troops and a man that Candace knew she could not afford to offend for any reason. Hence why she had been forced to stomp on Senior Colonel Ridzik, as the Colonel had developed an intense dislike of Precentor Neville. For a leader of men Colonel Ridzik you can be the most petty of individuals. Well Pavel, you will be tolerated until such time as I am Chancellor. At that point you can retire, in what ever manner you choose, or force me to choose for you.

Precentor Martial Hamilton took the lead, as it seemed that Precentor Waterly was happy to accede to his military experience. “I hope, this afternoon, to go over what we have discussed to date before we move into more detailed planning over the next few days. Should anyone have additional comments or ideas, now will be the best time to air them so that they can be incorporated into the planning sessions to come.”

The Precentor Martial brought up a holographic image that showed the Inner Sphere, with Terra at its centre and the Lyran Commonwealth/Draconis Combine border running to the maps top. “I will start with the Combine’s planned operations if that is acceptable Coordinator, Kanrei?”

Theodore nodded whilst answering “Of course Precentor Martial.” Yorinaga made an almost imperceptible bow to indicate his own assent.

“Thankyou. Operation URIZEN, the assault on the Lyran border was, as you rightly pointed out Kanrei, to have been originally launched too close to Skye to effectively draw off Lyran reinforcements from the Terran region. Although the Moesby Thumb is a tempting target, the area immediately below Tamar that Coordinator Kurita has identified should suit our purposes admirably.”

Theodore spoke up. “Yes, I agree. We have the further option of threatening or later assaulting Tamar should we require it. The Lyrans cannot afford to ignore this strike.”

Angus focused the map on the region below Tamar. “Exactly Coordinator. By striking from Volders, Wheel and Quarrel at Maestu, Cusset, Biota, Montmarault, La Grave and Orkney, the DCMS will be able to isolate a string of seven border worlds from Kobe to Carse for later reduction. The threat to Tamar comes through the potential to close off its access to the Commonwealth through Laurent and Severn. We anticipate that reserves in the Tamar district, as well as part of the strategic reserve at Tharkad, would be mobilised to assist.”

“They have to react. If they don’t, they will allow the DCMS to overrun the heart of the Tamar region.” Said Colonel Ridzik in a voice full of self assurance.

Angus accepted the Colonel’s point as he continued. “A point we all agree on. This brings us to Operation SHIRO. The DCMS plans a similar strike, based upon the original salient cutting concept that Duchess Liao produced last year, to cut off Galtor. As the Kanrei pointed out, as long as the strike is weighted from Galedon, the AFFS should shift to protect their spinward flank, especially if Wolf’s Dragoons are there in reserve. We cannot prevent the reinforcement of Robinson, but the plan to move the Dragoons rapidly


5towards Terra using a command circuit for the main invasion, should catch the AFFS by surprise.” The map jumped to Galtor at the Precentor’s command as he continued. “Using forces from Galtor and the Ryuken regiments, the DCMS will strike from Tripoli, Thestria and later from Misery to take Eldiere IV, Glenmora, Bergman’s Planet, Harrow’s Sun, Bennet III, Crossing, Lima, Royal and Breed. This will isolate the remaining six planets of the Galtor region for reduction as required.”

Moving the map again, the Precentor brought up the Capellan/FedSuns border in the St. Ives region. Candace got skewered by the penetrating look that the Precentor Martial had when directly engaging a person. It would have been unbalancing had Candace not been trained to deal with such situations. “Duchess Liao, your Operation WUHAN and Operation CANTON are designed to cut off the Kittery and Ziliang salients and were the catalyst for the other plans. I must again commend you on the simplicity and directness of your planning, it has allowed us to expand your concept to assist in other areas.” Candace nodded her thanks. It is always nice to have ones ass kissed in public.

The Precentor Martial continued. “Initial strikes from St. Ives, Warlock, Teng, Mitchell and Jacson will land on Shoreham, Royalston, Happajarvi, Corella, Hadnall, Safe Port, Sirdar, Glentworth, Cotocallo and Courcellete to begin the isolation of the salients. Follow up strikes from St. Ives, Maladar, Texlos and Xieng Khouang will complete the isolation and allow you to reduce the remaining eleven worlds at your leisure. Combined with the strike on Galtor, the AFFS will be forced to commit the bulk of its reserves if it wishes to have any real chance of stopping the assaults.”

“We can only hope the Fox sees the situation that way. He may well see our ruse and sacrifice the salients to protect his link with Terra.” Yorinaga stared at the projection before him as he spoke.

“We must therefore assure that our plan survives contact with him.” Said Thomas Marik.

“Yes, Captain‐General, that we must. Which brings me to the final initial strike: the Free Worlds League’s Operation THRESHER. I must thank you Captain‐General for allowing Thomas and I to modify the initial plan. Should the strikes through the border near Hyde gone in, the reinforcements for the LCAF would have been too close to Terra for the second phase of attacks to have avoided them. The new plan is before you now.” The map zoomed to the part of the Free Worlds/Lyran border where it met the Periphery. “The strike will now be launched from four worlds and include forces to hold the first set of targets whilst the assault forces move onto their second objectives. The jump off worlds and their targets are; Galisteo‐Pecander‐Abramkovo, Griffith‐Timbiqui‐Zdice, Epsilon‐Penobscot‐Kamenz and Promised Land‐Cavanaugh II‐Bolan via the now abandoned Tylarzka system. This strike, with the one aimed at Tamar, will pull in many of the reserves that are close enough to influence any assault on the Skye region near Terra.”

Before continuing, the Precentor Martial looked around the table and saw that all the leaders were enthralled. “As these strikes begin in January 3025 and develop through to June, they will incorporate reserves that each of your enemies knows of from your own central reserve areas. The allocation of these units should convince them of the assaults validity. Once the F‐C reserves are committed, the main assaults will commence in July of


63025 using the remaining forces the Combine can muster and the forces stripped from the Free Worlds/Capellan border. During this first phase, ComStar will begin the movement of our troops to the League/Capellan border and place transports in various systems to expedite ours and your own troop’s redeployment. This second phase will be the main focus of our discussions over the coming days. Does anyone have any questions?”

Janos Marik spoke up before the others had a chance. “We have been receiving supplies from ComStar at the rate specified, but have begun to note that the Lyrans and Davions have determined that our depots are full as we build new regiments. Your hand may soon be revealed. How will we counter this if the F‐C Alliance strikes out against us early?”

Precentor Hamilton turned to Precentor Neville “Grahame, if you would be so kind.”

“Yes Precentor Martial,” answered the naval Precentor, “My Pleasure. To ally your fears, Captain‐General, each ship that leaves Terra does not go out full as it heads into your realms. The ships take a roundabout course and offload their cargos in unsettled systems to ships that then appear to move from the interior of your realms fully loaded. To all intents and purposes, the Steiners and Davions will come to the conclusion that you have increased your production bases. Any other conclusion, especially one involving our supply of your efforts, will seem too far fetched.”

Janos let a small smile creep onto his features. “A clever ruse. As long as the F‐C powers do not begin a crash armaments industry expansion to compensate, we should be safe with your ploy for the short term.”

Candace eyes flickered across the group. That’s all very well Marik, but what happens after the war? ComStar won’t support us once we get the upper hand. They will turn around and pull out all the rugs from under all our feet. Father was too glib in his assessment of this plan, it all fits too well. I believe Yorinaga sees it and therefore so does Theodore. Pavel refuses to see a major problem and Thomas is to ComStar to question it. Janos’s reliance on his son has clouded his judgement. I have to plan more than just this war; I need to plan its aftermath. Romano must be the first obstacle removed. Perhaps a nice asylum on some half‐forgotten world where the native predators are a little too free with the inmate’s mortal coil. Then there is father. What to do with you and this disgusting little Colonel you have saddled me with?

The meeting dragged on as the conversation became more involved in specific details, all the while with twelve minds all working on many different levels.


7Chapter 24 Elmau, Bavaria, Terra. 16 September, 3023.

Candace Liao stood on the long wide balcony looking across the ancient resort’s old stone buildings and its well manicured gardens to the snow capped mountains in the distance. The evening was cool due to a breeze was blowing down from the mountains and providing a chill that she found quite refreshing. She had not changed from the semi‐military garb she had worn to the first of the discussions of the main assaults on the Terran corridor. The pale green jacket and pants seemed almost grey in the slowly dying light. If this plan is as effective as we think it will be, the Confederation will be a power to be reckoned with again. Davion will be weakened to a point where he will be no immediate threat and the Free Worlds will be occupied with preventing the Lyrans from taking back their industrial heartlands. For the first time in centuries my people will be free of their old entanglements. We can at last chart our own destiny. Candace’s thoughts were interrupted as Thomas Marik, as reserved as ever entered onto the balcony from a door to her right. Candace turned to see the junior Marik stop, and look up startled, as if brought out of deep thought. “Duchess Liao, I did not realise you were here. My apologies for disturbing you. If you will excuse me?” Always so unfailingly polite Thomas, you intrigue me, so different from the other Mariks and therefore so very much more dangerous. Candace spoke up before Thomas could walk away. “Please, there is no need for you to leave. If you would be so kind, I have some questions for you that I hoped you may be able to answer for me.” Thomas made a small bow and visibly relaxed, crossing to the stone verandah wall and leaned comfortably against it. His dress was part Marik and part ComStar styled robe, an interesting combination that gave him the look of a learned lecturer, an image a man of his known intelligence and pursuits would doubtless appreciate. “What is it you wish me to bring to light Duchess Liao?” “Firstly your title. Should I address you as Precentor or as something closer to your home in the League?” “Thomas will be fine for now.” He answered. “Very well Thomas, I suppose my father may well wake screaming from his sleep, but I think for now Candace should suffice as well.” “Very well Candace. I am sure my title and dignity are not all that concerns you?” Candace frowned a little before continuing, shifting her weight as she did so and leaning against the wall in a similar fashion to Thomas. “Your insight into the views of ComStar will allow you to plan well beyond this war and to anticipate when and where ComStar will withdraw its support from our forces. I would be interested to discuss your own views on this and perhaps share mine.” Thomas seemed a little startled by the directness of the question but recovered quickly. He thought quietly to himself for a moment before asking his own question. “What makes you believe ComStar will withdraw its support?”


8 Candace face lit up in a wry smile. “ComStar have ever striven for balance, you of all people should know and understand that. Their actions with us are designed to re‐establish that balance and prevent the Steiner‐Davion Alliance from dominating the Inner Sphere. Once that has been achieved they will withdraw their support from us. Should we be too successful, they will do what they can to slow us. I am sure they have contingencies that will pit our two nations against each other should the need arise.” Thomas looked Candace straight in the eye. “I would hope my former colleagues would have more respect for their allies than that, but you are right about the need for balance. No state has the capacity to rule the entire Inner Sphere. Should anyone try, chaos would eventuate and bring about the fall of civilisation as Blake foresaw.” Still so much part of the order that trained you Thomas, your words betray you. “They also have access to internal breaks within our realms with which to slow us and cause confusion.” Continued Candace. “Ah yes,” replied Thomas “the famed inability of the Marik family to go more than a few years without someone trying to kill off their relatives. I believe that the family Liao is possibly going to follow our ignoble lead in the current generation.” Candace coloured visibly before regaining control of her sudden ager at Thomas for his barb. “There are issues, I will grant you that, but nothing which cannot be handled discreetly and cleanly, much like your handling of Parliament on your fathers’ behalf.” That ought to get you off this dammed topic. Thomas smiled as he recalled the coup of the year before. “Yes, I am sure you can be just as effective in peaceful outcomes for complex and dangerous situations. Perhaps you could do me a service? Maybe I could send the bulk of my relatives to Sian as ambassadors and you could entertain them as you wish?” Candace appreciated his acknowledgement of her dislike of the topic and his attempt to turn to humour, so she followed suit. “But my dear Thomas, if you were to do that I would be forced to send Romano as a representative of the Liao throne.” Thomas laughed out loud. “That would be an intriguing trade. The Tiger Romano set among the pigeons of our Parliament, the chaos that would ensue would be a delight to watch.” Both Candace and Thomas began laughing as they pictured the scene, the tension of moments before dispelled. As they recovered, both saw the Precentor Martial walk out into the gardens in a simple and rather worn jumpsuit with several mercenary unit patches on each sleeve. Just as suddenly, Yorinaga Kurita emerged from the opposite end of the garden, dressed in a dark kimono and sandals. He walked a direct path towards the Precentor Martial as if expecting him to have been there. They met in mid‐garden next to a large pond that dominated the middle of the landscaped area. Candace looked at Thomas. “I wonder what they are discussing. It would be interesting to know?” Thomas looked across the gardens. “I am sure they may well ask themselves the same question should they see us here.” “Perhaps they believe we are trying to sort out the issues between our two nations in one afternoon?” Candace smiled at the thought. “I know for a fact that once you


9ascend to the office of the Captain‐General, the Capellan Confederation will face a dangerous and skilled opponent.” Thomas bowed to Candace. “Thankyou Duchess, I believe the same of the Confederation should you rise to your fathers’ position.” Candace returned the bow. “Perhaps then your best option would be to toss me from this verandah?” Candace looked over the edge. Thomas raised an eyebrow. “If only it were so simple. With your known skills as a warrior, I am sure you would drag me with you, ending both our paths to leadership. It would raise another issue – the end of our two realms.” Candace was surprised by Thomas’s answer, “The end of our realms?” “Of course. With me gone my family will fall to infighting and renewed civil war. With your loss, Romano comes to power and the Confederation becomes an easy target.” As Candace’s gaze crossed again to the garden where Yorinaga and Hamilton had begun walking together she said, “Well then Thomas, we must agree to work together for now so at least one of our two nations can survive to the future.” And no matter what your charm or skills Thomas, it will be the Capellan Confederation that survives. **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** ****

Precentor Martial Hamilton wandered aimlessly through the old gardens of Elmau, lost in thoughts of earlier times when he had been little more than a simple mercenary, noted for his skills as both a Company and then Battalion commander as well as his abilities as a staff officer. The natural aptitude he possessed in that role had been the reason for his successful career and the reason he had been head hunted by some of the best mercenary regiments in the Inner Sphere. As he wandered along through the gardens, surrounded by their many spring scents, he came upon the pool in the gardens centre and as he looked across the lake he saw Yorinaga Kurita, the Gunji‐no‐Kanrei of the DCMS, walking serenely towards him in a plain dark kimono. Hamilton stopped and watched the old soldier approach, fascinated by the way Yorinaga seemed to flow as he walked; his fluid grace and ease of movement betraying the abilities the man possessed as a Mechwarrior. Yorinaga stopped before Hamilton and bowed, an action which Angus mimicked. As both men straightened, Yorinaga spoke. “Precentor Martial Hamilton, I thought I might find you enjoying the peace of this wonderful place. May I offer my company for a short time?” “Certainly Kanrei, I would be most honoured by your company.”

Both men began walking slowly around the ponds edge, their step in time, arms behind their backs. Yorinaga glanced across at Angus’s shoulder patches on his right arm. “Your time with the Eridani Light Horse was most impressive, Precentor. Your work in preparing the Horsemen for their raids on the Combine after 3010 was effective. Your skill at identifying weak areas in our defence was a key in the Eridani’s success. I would be interested to know where you learnt this skill. Was it with the 21st Centauri or before that from your time in the Dismal Disinherited?”


10What don’t you know about me Yorinaga? I would guess that there is not much you

don’t know. Hamilton paused before beginning, thinking back to his time as a young man learning from his grandfather, surprisingly comfortable with discussing his past with the Kuritan. “I learnt the basics and saw them applied by my Grandfather, Major Eric Hamilton. When my parents died in 2982, I was shipped of from my home in southern Australia to my grandfather out on the Lyran/Combine border. He had always been a mercenary and had every intention of raising me as a commander of men, no matter what I thought. Luckily for him, or more for me, I lost myself in the intricacies of the training and my lessons. I think, if it was not for that, I would have become lost following the death of my parents.”

Yorinaga smiled, “I remember well my own education, a wise old man taught me much of what I now know. Without his steady hand and kind, firm direction, I would never have been the man I have become.” Both men walked quietly for a moment lost in their pasts before Yorinaga continued. “So it was your grandfather who we must thank for your insights?”

“He set me on the path yes. My internship was with a unit called the Archers, formed with many Terran ex‐pats, and after three years I was given command of a lance in the second of our two Battalions, under my Grandfather on the planet Tamar. We were stationed there with a regiment of the Dismal Disinherited and found that the two units worked well together both in offence and defence. In 2986 the 8th Sword of Light and 11th Rasalhague Regulars paid us a visit, having jumped in to the L1 point and hitting the planet quickly. Unfortunately, with most of the regular troops on a training exercise on the planets far side, it was up the Archers to hold the attack until the Disinherited could mobilise. We held for two days before relieved, but there was little over a company of Mechs by the time the Disinherited and the Lyrans arrived. My grandfather was crippled and my first combat experience was a nightmare.”

“Such baptisms are not to be wished on any young commander, it must have been a dark time for you?” Yorinaga had genuine concern in his voice as Angus remembered the despair he had felt at seeing his lance mates killed one by one over those terrible forty eight hours.

“No they are not. And yes it was a dark time. The Archers were finished and my Grandfather was returning to Terra; my own plan was to follow him. He would not hear of it however, as the Disinherited were deeply grateful to the Archers for our actions on their behalf and offered all our survivors positions with them. He had to order me to remain, but in the end his decision was again the right one. I served with the Disinherited, first as a Mechwarrior, and later gained Lance Command in their 2nd Regiment in 2988. I was given my company command in 2994 and served under Colonel Chu as one of his staff officers. Colonel Chu completed what my Grandfather had started and turned me into a solid staff officer and battlefield commander. When we all signed on with Davion after the turn of the century, Chu was killed in a raid on Ares and we got saddled with Colonel Laura Stuman. She was a first class bitch and turned out to be a completely useless commander. I got itchy feet and was luckily head hunted and offered a position as a staff officer with the


1121st Centauri Lancers. A year after that, I was given a company to command and spent five happy years with the Lancers.”

“What caused your departure from the Lancers?” Asked Yorinaga “A Woman.” “She must have been important to you for you to leave such a posting.” “Yes she was. She made it easy for me however. We met when I was on leave on

Galatia and she was on leave from the Eridani Light Horse. We fell in love and as the deputy commander of their 151st Light Horse’s Air Group was able to get me transferred into the 151st when a command slot opened up. She still won’t tell me to this day how she managed it, but it seems that all her favours were called in.”

“Yes, I remember that from about that time the 151st, and later the Eridani as a whole, began to develop a real feel for our defensive weaknesses. We later identified you and your current deputy, Precentor Millray, as the young officers who were responsible.”

The Precentor Martial stopped before a stone bench and indicated with his hand, offering Yorinaga a seat. Yorinaga made a small bow and seated himself. Both men thus gained a pleasing view across the gardens and out across the mountains. “Pat had a nose for DCMS defensive lapses and I was able to plan the assaults themselves. We were formed into a small Raid Planning unit with a few other officers and reported to the regimental commanders directly. Three years later I was offered a Battalion with the 12th Vegan’s Gamma regiment and jumped at the chance. There was no real chance of a Battalion in the Eridani for at least two years and Dana, my wife, had retired after a bad landing had nearly crippled her. We left the Eridani and Pat followed. Gamma was good to us and I loved the challenge of Battalion command. Did that for five years, until Pat and I had the idea of putting together another Terran ex‐pat unit like the old Archers. We set up a unit called the Men of Terra in 3016 with a few old hands from the Archers, Light Horse and Gamma and some Terran troopers we had found about Galatia.”

Yorinaga looked across at Hamilton. “I have never heard of the Men of Terra.” “Not surprised. We formed on Terra, near my old home down in Australia and our

first contract was picked up by ComStar. We became at first a dedicated Opfor for the ComGuards and then involved in training the ComStar forces themselves and the TerrSec forces, eventually becoming part of the ComGuards.”

Yorinaga leaned back and smiled. “A most interesting career you have had Precentor Martial, I see why you possess the abilities you do and why you were selected for your role.” Yorinaga stood and bowed deeply, with Angus rising quickly to do the same. “I must beg of you to forgive my rude abruptness, I must meet with the Coordinator soon and will be late should I enjoy your company and this view for much longer.”

Cunning old rat! “I would not keep you from your duties Kanrei, I would, however wish to ask you some questions regarding your own past.”

Yorinaga smiled, “As do many Precentor Martial. I cannot do so this evening, but I promise to meet again here tomorrow night to enjoy this wonderful garden and talk of a brash young Samurai I once used to know.”

Angus bowed again and watched Yorinaga walk off. It’s not the brash young Samurai I am interested in Yorinaga, it’s the great warrior he became that interests me. And I just


12hope you are as forth coming as I was. Hamilton shook his head. How the hell did he make me open up like that?


13Chapter 25 Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, England, Terra. 11 January, 3024.

Precentor Myndo Waterly, ComStar’s power behind the throne and the puppet‐master of the Concord of Kapteyn, the accord signed between the Capellan Confederation, Free Worlds League and Draconis Combine, looked across at her General as he thought about his answer to her question. The Precentor Martial intrigued Myndo; he was so much the opposite of her in the way he conducted himself and in his view of the universe in general.

The General, in a simple set of fatigues, contrasted sharply with Myndo, who was resplendent in her red Precentor’s robes. That she clashed horribly with his large, but simply furnished office, was of no concern to her. In fact, she felt as though the clash emphasized her superiority to the military arm of ComStar. He looked up after a moment and began his answer. “I would describe myself Precentor Waterly, as a loyal son of Terra.”

“Loyal son of Terra?” Myndo made a slight chuckle, “Whatever do you mean by that Precentor Martial?”

“I mean that I would do anything to assure the safety of my world. My loyalty to ComStar is due to the fact that for the last two hundred odd years, ComStar has kept Terra safe. The efforts the order made to rebuild following the Usurper’s occupation will be a debt that Terra owes ComStar for many years to come. By serving ComStar and strengthening the ComGuards, I further help to protect my world.”

Myndo was a little aggrieved that his loyalty was first to the world and not the order. That is something that in time will have to change, or else your early retirement will be in order. The ComGuards cannot be allowed to secularise beyond the period of expansion, otherwise they will become a dagger at our Order’s heart. “How then, Precentor Hamilton, do you account for your thirty four year voluntary exile?”

“My parent’s death and my desire to be learn all I could about being an officer and leader of men. The chance to do so has not existed on Terra for two centuries. It was a relief when ComStar offered to hire the Men of Terra back in ’16. I had tired of the way the House Lords treated Mercs, people from Terra and anyone who did not tow the party line. Having grown up on this world and then seeing the damage that had been wrought to the old Hegemony made me angry that the Successor States could actually think they could lay claim to the mantle of First Lord. They are all as bad as each other; unfortunately no power has been in existence since Kerensky left to bring them to order.”

Myndo leant forward, planning to draw Hamilton on of his own accord. “What if one power could bring the others to heal?”

“Short of the F‐C alliance succeeding, I see no way of any of the Successor States being able to. ComStar technically could, if it was more open and forthcoming in it’s desire to balance the other powers and act as a stabilising influence, much as the Hegemony once


14was.” Hamilton stopped, suddenly realising what was in the air. “What are you thinking Precentor Dieron?”

“Exactly that Precentor Martial. ComStar needs to act. This war will help restore balance. Following that, we need to be more active in directing the Successor States towards the light of Blake’s words.”

“The First Circuit would oppose any such measure, even if you were Primus.” “But you believe the Successor States must be controlled?” “Yes.” “What if I can provide you with that possibility?” The Precentor Martial paused, thinking on Myndo’s reasoning. “You can only provide

that possibility if you were Primus and you could control the First Circuit.” “I will be Primus; the current incumbent is proving to be too recalcitrant in his support

of my plans for our Order. I now have the support I need to remove him, except that is, your support for my future plans.”

It was at this point that the penny again dropped for Precentor Hamilton. It was the second point he would look back on later in life and wonder why fate touched him again. “I can provide the support you need in a form I do not think you might have considered. The ComGuards will remain largely neutral and I will not betray your plans, on the condition that they remain a defensive force and are not used against Terra. I will not have a religious visionary directing my soldiers in a war of righteous conquest, Thought the Precentor Martial.

“Conditions Precentor Martial? I will command ComStar should I be Primus, yet you wish to set conditions.”

“You will need my quite support. Precentor ROM has cooled towards you in recent months and ROM can be a dangerous enemy to any new Primus that displeases it.”

Damm you Hamilton! Very well, I will play your game for now. I need you to control ROM and once you have brought them to heal, I will give you to them to assuage their anger.

“I see your reasoning Precentor Martial. There is one issue that I do need you to see to too ensure that we can ensure the future stability of the Inner Sphere.”

“What might that be Precentor Dieron?” “The new infantry force you are raising, the one you plan to attach, as companies, I

think you said, to the Brigades you are forming.” “We do not have a name for them yet, although Pat, Precentor Millray, wants to call

them the SAS, after the SLDF Special Forces. They are a regiment currently, but we will need about nine over time. What of them?”

“I need you to create a new mission for these SAS.” “A new mission? What mission and why?” The Precentor Martial was obviously

annoyed that a politician was interfering in his already complicated force building operation.

“Should this war succeed and we pull our support from the allies, turning the Capellans on the League and creating chaos in Rasalhague for the Combine, our new face


15will be exposed. We will need the ComGuards to protect Terra and the SAS to protect the HPG network until we can deploy stronger forces to defend it.”

The Precentor Martial leant back in his chair. “Precentor Dieron, I do not think a few infantry, even as highly trained as these new troops will be, will be sufficient to defend the HPG network. Why would we, and how could we, want to station heavy forces at our HPG’s? Additionally, the SAS as you call them, have not been given that name yet.”

So short sighted Precentor, when you look out from your little military world. “Firstly they will not be there to protect the HPG’s. They will be there to delay any strike on an HPG for long enough to allow ROM operatives to disable the HPG in the event of an attack. Secondly, should the First Circuit prove reluctant to support the new path; we will need to isolate those supporters of the First Circuit within the network. A bloodless coup of course, but until the changes are implemented, we will need to cut of the First Circuit Precentors from their support. As to the need for troops at our stations, that will come in time. We can eventually manipulate the various states to fall into line and allow us to protect our stations from “threats”, whatever we wish those to be. The day will come when we will need to take direct action to protect our stations, or prevent their secrets, falling to the House Lords.”

Your plans are approaching that point where some will question your motives Precentor Dieron. I will support you only so far. “I will need your authorisation to expand the training of the new Special Forces. I will also need your support in their recruitment, especially as ROM will no doubt be very curious about their sudden growth.”

Myndo stood, “I will see that this is so. Prepare an initial plan for the execution of actions to secure the HPG net and provide for the security of the First Circuit should it be needed. Call it…Operation ROMULUS. He created a city that became the foundation of the greatest Empire of old Earth. It would be fitting that he gives his name to the new future for humanity.”

Hamilton stood and bowed. “As you wish Precentor. May the Peace of Blake go with you.”

“And with you Precentor Martial.” Myndo turned and left Angus’s office, whilst he remained standing and watched her leave. He eventually sat and began writing notes at a furious pace. After an hour of writing he called his aide in the outer office to have Precentor Millray meet him across the grounds at the firing range. He finished his notes, tore them from the book and walked out of his office. Waving off his aide he made his way through the College’s ancient halls and out into the grounds. The College was mercifully quite, with most students in classes or training.

Pat was waiting at the range, maintaining his fierce image in case any cadets were watching. Pat looked across angrily. “These better be bloody well important, I’m as busy as a blue assed fly! Why did you need me here to keep me waiting?”

Hamilton simply handed him his notes as the cadets on the range behind them began to open up with automatic weapons and drown out any chance at verbal communication. After reading the first page Pat looked up, but Angus motioned for him to finish. Once he completed the twelve handwritten pages Pat tucked them under his arm, his face pale and serious. He waited for the incessant rattle of fire to end before speaking. “This is Fraking


16insane! Do you really want to be her lap dag? We take this path and we are committing the sins that we have said the Successor Lords commit in spades, sins we agreed no military commander can make. Fraking ROMULUS! Who the hell does this woman think she is, Huh? General Kerensky returned perhaps, or maybe Ian Cameron?”

Angus was not surprised at his friend’s reaction. “More like Prometheus.” “Damm straight! We will all be killed, either at the hands of the Successor States, or

at that madwoman’s claws.” Pat was becoming quite agitated. Angus watched Pat carefully until the Drill Sergeant in the background began to

prepare the cadets for another round of firing. He handed Pat another sheaf of pages. “You might not like my other idea then.”

Pat began reading as the firing began and Angus could see him swearing his heart out as he read. Once the firing stopped he looked at Angus with a mixture of fear and awe. “You’re completely Fraking mad! I suppose you want me to put this little number together for you sahib?”

“Yes Pat I do. If you’re willing that is? It’s as dangerous as the first plan, but allows us to assuage our conscience somewhat. At least this way we don’t have to sell our souls to the devil.”

“HAH! We just sell them to his booking agent. No choice really is there?” Pat shrugged his shoulders. “Alright then, I’ll put this ROMULUS together for our sweet leader. Then I’ll put REMUS together for you. Eyes only on both with the Special Forces as the dagger?”

Angus nodded. “That’s fine Pat, and don’t forget to burn those notes. Leave nothing to be found. I also have an idea for the Special Forces. Your idea of calling them the SAS will be a goer. The Special Administrative Services. They won’t be noticed among the other special types ComStar are forever assigning to HPG’s and the acronym works for the troops with the name as a decent cover. Have fun Pat, I know I will be.” He said wryly as both men began to walk back towards the College, both lost in thought.


17Chapter 26 Vaucluse House, New Earth, Ryde Theatre, Lyran Commonwealth. 15 January, 3024.

“This expansion of the three Kapteyn’s militaries is beginning to concern me. It’s just not just for the implications that it holds for the defence of our two realms, but also for the probabilities of increased production in the enemy realms, or assistance from another source.” Hanse Davion’s tone was serious and tense. Serious and tense could have summed up the meeting between Hanse and Katrina Steiner. Ever since the Parliamentary coup that Thomas and Janos Marik had orchestrated, the Steiner and Davion intelligence agencies continued to uncover evidence of the start of a new arms race; an arms race that Kurita, Marik and Liao were building a substantial lead in.

Katrina felt just as strained. Her realm was, until six months ago, believed to hold a large advantage over the other realms in military industrial output, something that was allowing her to rebuild the Commonwealth’s defences to a point where her realm would be safe for the first time in centuries. Then suddenly, both the Combine and League were building as many regiments as the Commonwealth could, even if pushed. Lyran strength was predicated on being able to out produce its opponents. If that advantage was lost, then so was the Commonwealth.

“Mother, if I may?” Melissa Steiner had requested to be present at these meetings, both to learn about her future duties and to spend time to get to know the man who she would marry in four years. Although only barely a teenager, Melissa’s intelligence and natural inquisitiveness had served her well so far. What had impressed Katrina the most was Hanse’s attitude. He was never condescending or impolite and never corrected Melissa. If she was in error, he guided her to the correct answer, even if Melissa was being stubborn. Melissa, for her part, was challenging the Prince, as her views and plans were simple and straight forward. The Prince’s plans were anything but simple and were often composed of plans within plans. The meeting of the two philosophies was enjoyable to watch, even if the situation was serious. One day you two will make a formidable pair.

“Of course Melissa, what is it you wish to share?” Answered Katrina. Melissa, her youthful face furrowed with thought, something that did little for the

effect her flowing eye makeup made, began her theory with a question. “Is it really theoretically possible for the League, Combine AND Confederation to all have unknown production facilities that are enabling them to out produce our two realms?”

Hanse answered before Katrina could. “Yes and No, is the simple answer.” “That’s not an answer at all.” Mellissa replied, an angry undertone in her voice. Hanse smiled, “No Mellissa it is not, but that is because I have been handed many

different answers on the topic. Theoretically it is possible. How both our realms missed it for so long, I do not know. Perhaps the three realms coordinated their intelligence, but that does not fit with their prior histories. Such an expansion would have to have been noticed and if we did not notice such activity, in three separate realms, then both our


18intelligence agencies are in dire straits. If it is not possible, then where did the Mechs come from? All three powers cannot have access to some hidden depot; they would have eviscerated each other over it.”

Katrina nodded whilst sipping from a glass of water as she leant back in the solidly built wicker chair she occupied on the large mansion’s patio. “There are too many ifs in this problem and too few whys arriving to answer our questions.”

Melissa stood and began walking around the table as her mind began to kick into overdrive. Silhouetted, against the low sun coming across the forests behind the house, her daughter looked too young to be discussing such matters. Nevertheless, Melissa waded in. “Why don’t we keep the question simple then? Can the three realms realistically produce what they seem to be, without hedging your answers and only relying on what we knew six months ago?”

“No.” Answered Hanse, a look of interest on his face. “There is no real chance.” Answered Katrina, likewise interested. “Okay, where could they get that material from then?” “Old storehouses. Most likely old SLDF storehouses, their own were pretty dry five

years ago, much like ours.” Her mother answered. “Where would such a find need to be located for all three to benefit?” “Within a jump or so of Terra, the closer the better, otherwise one realm can ensure

its control.” Hanse could not quite see where this was leading, but felt something big was coming.

“What would either of you do if you heard of such a find near Terra?” Hanse laughed as he answered “Drop a half dozen RCT’s right on top of it.” “Not if I was already there you wouldn’t.” Said Katrina. Melissa stopped her pacing. “Exactly, you would each sell your own grandmother’s for

it.” Both Hanse and Katrina were taken aback by Melissa’s tone and words, but

understood the vital truth. For a Successor Lord to allow another Lord access to such a treasure would be to spell that Lords own doom. Such a find would ignite a vicious war of possession.

“Yet everyone is getting on just fine, what does that mean?” Hanse sat back, making an exasperated sigh, the answered. “That there can’t be a

depot and we are back to working out how they produce so much.” “Or the depot is controlled by someone else.” Melissa’s innocent tone slid like ice across Katrina’s nerves. Not possible. “You know

what you are suggesting daughter? Such an action would throw the Inner Sphere into chaos.”

Hanse leant forward, his face grave. “We had considered this, the possibility of ComStar as a source, but discounted it. They do not have the capability.”

Katrina looked across at Hanse. “How sure can we be? What was left on Terra when Blake took the world? We know some of the factories were still working and Blake stripped New Earth into the bargain.”


19“There is another possibility,” Said Melissa, “What of the Lost Divisions?” Melissa

brought up one of the old legends of the Exodus. Well over a dozen SLDF Divisions had apparently disappeared after Kerensky left. What records the General left behind did not mention their presence in the fleet and they never appeared in any House Lord’s armies. They vanished. Some thought the General took them and the records were just too incomplete, others believing that the General destroyed them as rebels. Some others thought they must have taken more damage during the liberation than was let on and were simply shell Divisions that were disbanded. Some believed however, that the were secreted away on Terra, but few gave that story much weight as most believed that Blake would have used them to help secure more of the Hegemony.

“My dear, they are little more than a fairy tale. If they were real, we would have seen them centuries ago.” Katrina could not bring herself to believe that such a hidden threat could have existed for so long. It’s just not possible.

“But aren’t the simplest explanations often the right ones? That’s what Thelos tells me.” Melissa’s voice had taken on a slightly hurt tone.

Hanse stood up and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “We are not ridiculing you Melissa, we simply cannot afford for such a scenario to be true. Should ComStar so actively seek to manipulate such a war, it would destabilise the Inner Sphere for decades. First by allying our states and then assisting the others in a war would open ComStar up to assaults from the House Lords, forcing them to use this arsenal, that you say they may well posses, to defend themselves. It’s a nightmare scenario. Nevertheless, I might, just for peace of mind, have Quintus sniff around a little. If such a disaster is a possibility, however slight, I want to know about it.”

Melissa smiled at Hanse, “Thankyou, I just hope Quintus can prove me wrong.” “And Simon Jonson can try as well.” Added Katrina, then changed the topic. “What of

your plans of the expansion of your realm’s military Hanse? I hope it’s better than what we have accomplished. So far we have added two regiments to the Skye Rangers and reformed the 2nd Winfield Brigade and the Tamar Tigers. Not much, but those units represent real pride for the Skye and Tamar regions and have caused no end of pain for my political rivals.”

Hanse sat, after offering Melissa her chair, which she accepted. “I have begun the expansion of the Training Battalions into so‐called Training RCT’s. They are effectively a March Militia with the Training unit attached. I don’t think I will form more than five and after that, well the old honour roles are full of holes. Additionally, I am going to reform the Periphery March due to all the grief I have received from the Outback. It will allow the Crucis March to become a supply and basing area for reserves and leave the bandit hunting to the Periphery PDZ’s. The Crucis Marshal’s are happy and Robinson and New Syrtis are pleased to finally shed their Periphery responsibilities. So far Filvet and the other more prominent Outback worlds are in full support, so it should streamline command and control of the AFFS. How is the LCAF’s RCT program progressing?”

Katrina answered after thinking for a moment. “The Lyran Guards will be at full RCT strength by years end with the Royal Guards to follow. After that the Arcturans and select


20Donegal units will convert followed by other units as needed. We should have completed the program by 3028.”

The meeting continued for hours more, with Melissa amazed at the numerous issues that were now affecting both realm’s outlook and plans. The more she listened, the more amazed she was that both her mother and future husband could keep all the information in their heads and recall numerous details as required. She would need that skill one day, but until then would rely on the obviously formidable skills of her Mother and future Husband.


21Chapter 27 The Cave, Saso, New Syrtis, Capellan March, Federated Suns. 25 January, 3024.

“It’s a pain in the arse, but it’s what the Prince wants and so we do it. That is your

view now is it? Your father would be incensed that you are handing away the rights to thirteen worlds, two BattleMech Regiments and several brigades of conventional forces. What if we should need those forces against the Capellans? What then?”

Count Anton Vitios, one of Duke Michael Hasek‐Davion’s cronies, was incensed at the announcement that the new Duke, Morgan Hasek‐Davion, had just made. Morgan had announced that the Warren Polymorphous Defence Zone, or PDZ, would be broken away from the Capellan March to assist in forming the new Periphery March. As a staunch Hasek loyalist and card carrying provincial, Vitios was in no way temperamentally equipped to deal with such demands from New Avalon. That the new Duke, son of the man Vitios had idolised, would so willingly give up centuries old Hasek holdings was beyond the pale as far a the small, aggressive and abrasive man could stand.

Justin Allard, his lithe and tall frame towering over that of the small man next to him, answered for the Duke. “We loose little compared to the other Marches Anton. Two BattleMech units you say? A training regiment and a March Militia are not much to loose, and neither would have been available for use against the Capellans anyway. They man a slim line of defence against the Taurians. We loose a few tax dollars and are now able to focus entirely on the Taurian core and the Capellan border, leaving Pirate hunting and long range patrols to the new March.” Justin had little time for Vitios, as the man was a racist pig, unable to see past Justin’s half Capellan heritage, despite his sterling record of service to House Davion.

“A FEW TEX DOLLARS!! We loose over £80 Billion in revenue per year. Where do you propose we make up that shortfall?” Vitios was clearly loosing control, his small face glowing redder than a fireball.

“Calm yourself Anton.” Morgan’s deep voice brought Anton up short, before he could continue. “We loose little compared to the other Marches. Duke Sandoval is giving up Killbourne and Milligan along with six BattleMech Regiments and Hanse himself has released Anjin Muerto, Broken Wheel, Malagrotta and Islamabad along with thirteen Regiments of Mechs and three centres of military production. We can hardly complain that we are being unfairly treated. Besides, the order comes from New Avalon and we are loyal sons of the Federation, are we not Anton?” Morgan’s question ended on an ominous tone.”

Anton, sensing danger, quickly changed his tune. “Of course we are loyal my Duke, no region is more determined to see the flag of the Suns ascendant, I merely wished to point out that we were given little opportunity to voice our Marches concerns properly or to assist in the implementation of this new plan.”


22Little Weasel. Thought Morgan, It’s time to be rid of you and your scheming. “An

excellent point Anton, and that is why I summoned you, as I require your services for a project of great importance for the Capellan March.”

Anton, on cue, puffed up as his rampant self importance took hold. “As ever, I live to serve the Capellan March through the utilisation of my talents my Duke.”

Morgan continued with a glint in his eye and his voice masking his amusement at the ease at which the little rat could be manipulated. “Anton, it is my command as your Duke that you be appointed as my personal representative to the new Duke of Filvet, Robert Edgrer. You will facilitate the merger of the Warren PDZ into the new march and then act as my representative to Filvet.”

Anton new he was in a trap. Should he refuse, he may well be dismissed from service as the new Duke had little time for him. Should he accept, he would be exiled. However, the chance to influence a new March and carve out a new base of power may well be worth the effort. He could always return to New Syrtis with an independent power base to support him. He bowed slightly as he answered. “I would be honoured my Duke, to serve as your personal representative to Filvet.”

“Morgan smiled as he returned the small bow. “Excellent Anton. I have assembled a small staff for you and they are awaiting you at the northern meeting hall of the Ducal Palace.”

Knowing when he was dismissed, but still feeling a little used, Anton bowed again and left the room.

“Here is hoping his DropShip has engine failure on the way down to Filvet. I hope I never have to see that little wretch again.” Ardan Sortek meandered over to the map table that displayed the holographic image of the now smaller Capellan March. “Probably time we talked about Capellan intentions. They seem to be getting a little ancy all along the border now that McCarron is home. Good riddance to the Bastard.”

“Perhaps we could pay Archie a visit on Menke? Say with, oh I suppose the 5th and 6th Fusiliers, the Armoured Cav and a few of the Illician’s.” Justin had taken it as a personal insult that McCarron’s Armoured Cavalry, under the commander Archibald McCarron, had been allowed to romp through the Federated Suns, raiding and pillaging.

Morgan shook his head whilst enjoying Justin’s thought. He was coming to enjoy these sessions with Justin and Ardan, the three men forming a good team that was able to operate smoothly and support each other well. He knew both men were watchdogs, placed to assure Hanse of Morgan’s loyalty, but having two such minds to assist him was a boon he would not begrudge. “A pleasant thought Justin, but I think we need to think bigger and longer term. I want you and Ardan to start coming up with ideas for an offensive that can really hurt the Confederation. Something more befitting the personal response of the Duke of New Syrtis to Maximillian Liao on Sian for unleashing McCarron on us.”

“I think that will be a nice exercise in military theory and planning, and give the planning staff something to do other than obsess over the results of McCarron’s raids.” Justin leant back against the wall, stretching as he did so. “It still leaves the question of what Capellan intentions are? They are building up a new force, the Hussars, under


23Candace, but don’t seem to be causing any other major ripples. Six regiments is a big ask for them industrially, but we can match it with the new Training RCT’s and the reserves from New Avalon.”

Ardan looked seriously at the map. “What if the reserves don’t materialise? What if the Dragon strikes at us as well?”

Justin did some quick mental arithmetic. “We still hold three RCT’s, six independent regiments, two March Militias and several supporting Wings and Conventional Brigades in reserve positions around the March. Even if Max threw in the kitchen sink and weakened the Free Worlds border in a few small areas, we can still hold him. He would need to strip the entire Free Worlds border to cause issues.”

Morgan saw quickly a nightmare scenario. “What if he did? What if Max made a coup and was able to free up troops. What if the Dragon struck out as well and Max got the Taurians involved?”

Silence reigned in the room as all three men contemplated what would be a devastating situation for their March. A strong and, in places, overwhelming attack just at a time when the AFFS reserves were not available for full deployment to aid New Syrtis in her hour of need.

“Pull out of the salients.” Ardan’s answer was given in a dead pan voice. Justin continued the thought. “Shorten the line and free up units for counter‐attacks.

It would probably work, but the political ramifications would be dire. Any flanking strike by the Taurians would also put any withdrawal under immense pressure.”

Morgan thought for a moment. “That’s your brief then. Plan for the worst, hope for the best. Call it Case Black.”


24Chapter 28 Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, England, Terra, 19 March, 3024.

General Hamilton walked across the damp grounds of the Sandhurst Military Academy for, what ROM agents were reporting, was his daily exercise. It was far more than that. Hamilton was using these walks for infrequent meetings with Pat, to discuss the ongoing planning they were undertaking for Precentor Waterly and for themselves. The walks always took them past the firing ranges, where they made a habit of lingering and taking notes. A monthly award for marksmanship, the honor of serving as the Precentor Martial’s junior aide, awarded to the month’s best marksman, gave credible lie to these stops. The stops also gave a nice cover of noise to their more dangerous conversations. As he squelched through the damp grounds, sodden from a week’s constant steady rain fall, Angus could already detect the scent of the range, the combination of gunpowder and laser scorch. As he wandered over, he could already see Pat there with a notepad, ostensibly marking in the best shots amongst the officer cadets. Angus actually found it pleasant to have the young, wide eyed and keen aides assist him. It allowed him to gauge the effects of the expansion of the ComGuards from the bKarlm of the military hierarchy as well as influence, he hoped, the next generation of ComGuards leaders and instil in them a loyalty to the office of the Precentor Martial. This would be critical in years to come. Pat accused him of engineering a personality cult, and too some extent it seemed Pat may be right, as the young officer cadets fought hard to gain the honor of serving as aide for a month. More so, and to Pat’s complete and utter disgust, he treated his young aides as full officers, involving them in as much as he could and forcing them to think well beyond their years and experience. Angus walked up the last few metres to the small ridge above the firing range a stopped next to Pat. Neither man looked at the other as the conversation began. “Who looks the goods this month?” Pat answered as he looked across his notes, “Some waif from the backwoods of Siberia. Seems she grew up hunting. Hasn’t missed a shot yet.” “New to the Academy?” “Yeah this week with the new bunch. Best score yet, even acing that arse kisser Hewitt.” Pat referred to Colin Hewitt, the young cadet who had made aide three times and was a little to accommodating to Angus’s needs than Pat though proper. Normally, Angus would have agreed, but the fact that Hewitt’s – he had to face the fact – crawling was driving Pat up the wall made it all worthwhile. “Colin will be most put out.” Gus answered with a straight face. “I can deal with the little arse kisser suffering.” Pat growled. “How is your pet project coming?” Angus referred to the plans for ROMULUS and REMUS.


25“Tolerable.” Pat could twist tails too. “Define tolerable?” “Progressing as ordered by the Precentor Martial.” “Give it up Pat, I have to meet with Precentors Dieron and ROM in an hour and

then fly across to Hilton Head to brief the First Circuit and the Primus on our main plans.” “Both plans are in order and the troops have begun training in their planned

roles, although they have no idea what those roles really represent. The SAS are turning into one dangerous bunch of eager young men and women. Word has it that the miners on Mars took offence to us posting so many troopers there. It got interesting in the bars for a few nights until the miners learned that our new unit is not to be trifled with.”

“Have you got anything in writing I can actually hand to the higher ups?” “Should be something on your desk already. It outlines what we have done and

what we plan to do to support Waterly’s plans. As to ROMULUS and REMUS, nothing in writing as ordered.”

Angus nodded. “Good. How long do you really think you would need before you could institute either of the twins?” Angus asked, refereeing to ROMULUS and REMUS.

“Not before 3027.” Pat saw Angus open his mouth, but jumped in before he could utter a sound. “And you tell Precentor Waterly that it won’t happen a moment earlier. You pair want to pull these plans off, then that’s the time I need to get enough troops trained well enough to pull it off. That’s final and non‐negotiable.”

Angus chuckled. “I was simply going to ask you if yourself and your lovely lad would like to join Liz and I next weekend for dinner.”

Pat turned and faced the Precentor Martial before answering. “You are a lousy bloody liar! Makes me wonder how you are going to pull all of this off? Still, I accept your invitation and would be honoured if the Precentor Marital was to shout dinner.”

Angus just had to accept that one. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** An hour later, Angus stood as Precentor Waterly entered his office, moving around his desk and offering the Precentor a chair. “Welcome Precentor, it is an honour to have you at Sandhurst again. I must apologise for not meeting you at the landing pad, I was preparing the notes for our discussion.” Precentor Waterly, took the proffered seat within the alcove, the same seat that Precentor ROM had used. “That’s quite alright Precentor Martial, I understand the demands that duty places upon time. Tell me, how do our plans advance?” Angus sat and crossed his long legs, thinking for a moment. “The recruitment of both ComGuard and naval personnel proceeds apace with new formations being posted across the Terran system. The fleet is taking a little longer, but that is to be expected with the needs of century’s old refitted ships.” Precentor Waterly nodded. “The supply of our allies is also well in hand, however, word from ROM indicates that the F‐C Alliance now suspects something is seriously amiss, although they do not appear as yet to understand or even suspect our hand.”


26 Precentor Dieron sat forwards “This is good Precentor Martial, you and your officers are to be commended. You will present this plan to the First Circuit tonight and be prepared to defend it.” Angus sat back into the deep chair. “Defend it?” “Yes Precentor Martial, defend it. The Primus wishes to cut your plans in half and scale them back. This is madness. He seeks this course in order to remove me from the First Circuit. Instead, you will support the plan with all your efforts, efforts that will lead me to my true place as Primus.” Damm your ambition woman! “I would support the plan regardless of other requirements Precentor; we are too far along the path to stop now. Terra would be exposed as complicate and undefended when retribution came. Stopping now is a death sentence.” Very delicately put General, your loyalty to this world before Blake is useful, but will ultimately prove your undoing. “I am truly glad your insight provides you with the ability to see to the heart of this matter Precentor Martial, I will trust in your abilities to outline the dangers we face should we stop short of our goals. How does your planning for ROMULUS come?” Angus felt a chill, the same chill he felt whenever he discussed the plan with Waterly. “Well Precentor. The SAS have begun training in their planned roles, as have the more experienced main line ComGuard and fleet units, all however without knowledge of their true objectives. Nothing is left in writing. Once the order is given SAS units will arrest any known supporter of the First Circuit in every HPG in the Inner Sphere as well as known ROM officers. ROM HQ will come under assault, dependent on other details and the First Circuit, Terran Congress and all major military and military industrial sites on Terra will be taken. Following those actions will be your political phase as troops on the Marik/Liao frontier are pulled back along with all support of the allied states. Actions following this will be entirely dependent on circumstance and ComStar’s posture regarding the other states.” Circumstance that you do not seem to appreciate with your blind vision of religious fervour. “Of course the ComGuards will be ready to support any threatened HPG should it be required.” Waterly smiled a smile that made Gus think of the coldest corners of the Antarctic. “I am truly glad that Blake’s insight allowed me to choose you as the master planner of our destiny Precentor Martial, your name will be celebrated for years within our order.” I highly doubt that. “Thankyou for your praise Precentor. Your support, as always, is greatly appreciated.” Waterly then continued. “What of ROM, will they become aware of our plans?” Angus nodded. “Yes, but it will not matter. We are naming every exercise and plan that deals with potential threats to ComStar and Terra with ancient Roman name such as Romulus, Caesar, Janus etcetera, ROM may well hear of our plan but will assume it is merely one of many being used to assist in the training of the Guards.”


27 Myndo beamed again, looking slightly mad. “Again Precentor Hamilton, you impress me with your abilities. How then has ROM acted with regards to my call for joint training?” “Very well actually. Following your approval of our joint intelligence operations we have found a way to manage a joint training regime. ROM was at first aghast at your request that ComGuard troops be permanently assigned to their HQ in Cairo, but we believe we have a solution. We will provide a company of SAS troops to exercise with ROM, out of the Cairo HQ, twice a year in a simulated exercise against a fresh ComGuard Combat Brigade. Precentor ROM is happy for the joint exercise in the repulsion of a Mech assault by ComGuard/ROM Special Forces on a limited basis. Besides, the ComGuards are too busy to mount a garrison of ROM HQ and it would raise too many suspicions. This way we build an apparently solid working relationship with ROM and can act as needed.” My troops also learn how to storm the rats nest whilst the SAS can raise hell on the inside. Myndo’s voice dropped low. “So again, Precentor ROM and yourself defy me and plan your own way forwards.” “Precentor, please forgive two jealous old men who wish to protect their domains. We accept your ideas as valid and as your aides and advisors we see it as our duty to take your wishes and make sure that they work to best effect.” Waterly relaxed. “Very well General, I would merely ask that you advise me in future before the decision is made.” Your independence is a liability to you Hamilton. I will not forgive you your slights to my authority when the time comes to pay your dues. Angus nodded “Of course Precentor, I will not be so presumptive again.” Not that it matters now anyway. Angus decided to change tune. “I have a request from Precentor Millray, an offering of an apology of sorts.” Myndo smiled. “I could never imagine Precentor Millray apologising to anyone Precentor Martial?” Gus laughed. “Perhaps not, but it amounts to the same thing. Pat firstly wants to form to Ceremonial Guards companies from the SAS, the best from the program for the protection of the First Circuit and Primus, under the Primus’s orders, likely yours from tonight, and one for the Precentor Martial and ComGuard High Command. Would you accede to this request? It represents a high honor to those chosen and gives them something to aspire to. The contact with the Primus through the SAS would be seen as a great honour to the ComGuards as a whole.” Myndo looked a little surprised, almost flattered by the request. “It would be my pleasure to honor the Guards in such a way should I accede to the office of Primus. And your second request?” “Similar but more in line with your initial requests of the ComGuards. Pat wants to take the most fervent supporters of ComStar philosophy and beliefs and form two new Combat Brigades with the finest equipment, as exemplars of what the ComGuards should be. These two units would be assigned as the main garrison of North‐East America, under the eyes of the Primus and First Circuit. They will be the model for the future of all ComGuard units.” And allow me to put all the hopeless fanatics in one easy to reach place.


28 Waterly positively beamed. “It will be as you say Precentor Martial, they will be the first of a new generation of our valiant protectors, avatars of Blake’s True Destiny. Yes Precentor Waterly, that they surely will be.


29Chapter 29 Hilton Head Island, North America, Terra, 19 March, 3024. Precentor Martial Hamilton felt somewhat nervous as he looked about the First Circuit chamber. It was not the tall vaulted ceiling and long glass windows and their imposing majesty that made him nervous, nor was it the way the room’s marble floors seemed to glow; neither was it the presence of the entire First Circuit and the Primus behind their crystal podia, the former in their bright red robes of office and the latter in his simple dun coloured robe. Angus knew it was also not the fact that he, Precentor Naval Grahame Neville and Precentor ROM Leyland Belov were at smaller, wooden podia, set below the First Circuit that made him nervous. What made him feel nervous, was the fact that he was one of the few in the room to know what was actually going to happen this evening, and he was trying desperately not to show it. The addition of the official ComStar robes, which he found exceedingly uncomfortable, did not help his feeling of unease. Angus focused again as the Primus, Julian Tiepolo, his old, bespectacled and hawk like face intent, continued. “Precentor Waterly, despite your seeming efforts on ComStar’s behalf, you have gravely depleted the financial reserve that we have spent two centuries building up. Despite the massive expenditure, something I am sure is going to continue, what have you to show for it apart from a few shiny toys?” Precentor Dieron, Myndo Waterly, her golden hair arranged like a halo, as always, smiled in an almost angelic way as she answered her superior. “I have provided to ComStar the protective shield for our Blessed Order and the sword with which to smite those who would threaten our future.” The Primus snorted. “Provide, hardly Myndo, you have kept a tight fisted grasp of the expanded ComStar forces whilst moving behind my back to undermine the office of the Primus. Few here realise what little you have accomplished with your frenzied bout of empire building. You seem to think a few parade regiments and a handful of derelict warships are the future of our Order.” Myndo almost purred her response, whilst the glint in her eyes showed pure hatred of the Primus. “I would hardly say a few or a mere handful Primus.” The room became very still as every eye turned towards first towards Myndo and then the Primus. “Explain yourself!” Declared Tiepolo. Myndo extended a hand towards the Precentor Martial. “I believe the Precentor Martial and his Naval Commander will be best suited to explaining our efforts.” Here we go. Thought Angus. The Primus fixed a piercing stare on the Precentor Martial. “If you and your Naval man would be so kind Precentor Martial?” Angus bowed his head towards the Primus, feeling the robe chafe at his neck as he did so. “Certainly Primus. In mid‐3022, the ComGuards were tasked with a dual mission


30by Precentor Waterly under the Direction of the Primus and First Circuit.” Always best to cover my arse first.

“Firstly, we were to supply the Kapteyn powers with stripped out war material amounting to twenty‐two BattleMech regiments and the standard number of supporting forces. This process is nearly complete and will allow the three Successor States to provide a stronger edge to their assaults on the F‐C Alliance, an assault that was again sanctioned by this body. Secondly, we were tasked with the reorganisation and the expansion of the ComGuards to allow the Order to deploy forces abroad, to free up further Capellan and Free Worlds troops as well as to assure a future defence of Terra against a major assault by a Successor Lord.” Angus continued to sweep his gaze around the room as he spoke, seeing looks on the faces of the Precentors before him ranging from delight to sheer horror. “The reorganisation of the ComGuards in late 3022 allowed us to initially field eight of our new Combat Brigades. These Brigades contain a BattleMech Regiment, a Tank Regiment, two Infantry Regiments and an Aerospace Fighter Wing. Due to the new program of expansion we currently field nineteen Brigades, with another four forming and a further nine slated for formation next year. Several training ranges have been reopened to assist and Precentor Dieron has authorised an attractive recruiting policy that will enable the ComGuards to meet all projected targets.” The room was silent for several seconds before Huthrin Vandel, Precentor New Avalon, an avowed opponent of Precentor Waterly, began speaking. “What projected targets?” “We have been ordered to plan for seventy eight brigades by the end of 3030.” The room erupted into chaos as the various Precentors began shouting at each other and the Precentor Martial. Most of the vitriol came from Precentors New Avalon and Tharkad, the Primus’s two main supporters, and Gus would have smiled at the chaos if it were not so serious and the threats levelled at him not so potentially severe. Eventually, the Primus regained order in the chamber, by a judicious use of his gavel and surprisingly loud voice. “Precentor Martial, I will return to you momentarily, however, I wish to see if this madness persists in your naval arm. Precentor Grahame, enlighten us as to your own orders and efforts.” The Precentor showed little deference to the Primus or the First Circuit, standing ramrod straight and talking as if lecturing school children. His beard must have been a boon in this situation, probably concealing a sneer, as Gus knew the man had little time for those who questioned his methods when they had little knowledge of the requirements of a fleet and its operations. “The ComGuard Fleet, consisting of twelve vessels since the mid‐30th Century, has been ordered to undertake a commensurate expansion of the Warship and Transport Divisions to support the expanding ComGuard Brigades. In addition to this, we have been tasked to take an active role in coordinating the ComStar merchant fleet in the distribution of support to our allies. Since early 3023, we have begun refitting Warships held in mothballs in various systems, as well as activating additional transport assets, which will link up with the first twenty eight new Combat Brigades. To date we have reactivated one Corvette, five Destroyers and two Cruisers. Additionally we have a


31Corvette, a Destroyer and a Battlecrusier in the yards undergoing refit, with two Destroyers, a Cruiser, two Battlecrusiers and a Battleship slated for refit by late 3026. The fleet will then consist of twenty nine active warships. The reactivation campaign will be slowed from early next year as we begin the construction of new DropShip and JumpShip assets for the ComGuards.” The chaos after the Precentor Naval’s address was less than before, yet held a savage undercurrent of bitter feeling from several of the gathered Precentors. The Primus raised his left hand for quite, lowering it before he began speaking again. “Precentors, as you can see, the actions of Precentor Dieron and her military advisors has thrown open the door to the end of our Order through either financial ruin or our exposure through our new military. I move that this program be stopped and we move to mitigate any damage they it may have caused.” Myndo slammed her palm down upon her podium, no doubt causing herself no small amount of pain before speaking. “Any such action will see the end of our order! Precentor ROM has information that I am sure will change the minds of those within this chamber.” All eyes swivelled towards the man who controlled the eyes and ears of ComStar’s feared covert intelligence arm. The Primus, his face now red and his voice growing ever harsher turned on Precentor ROM. “So Belov, what information does the esteemed Precentor Dieron think is so important to her continued plans?” Leyland Belov, despite his rodent like appearance, was nothing if he was not unflappable under pressure. He first straitened his robe and made a pretence at checking his notes before answering. “Primus, esteemed members of the First Circuit and the ComGuards. ROM has gathered intelligence over the past several months that indicate a growing awareness within the Steiner‐Davion Alliance that ComStar may indeed be the architect of the coming war and the build up of the Kapteyn powers that now precedes it. Currently, they have nothing concrete, but it will only be a matter of time, and a short amount of time at that, before the scale and impact of our hand in the coming conflict become apparent.” Gus thought that all hell broke loose after his bombshell announcement, however, Precentor ROM’s matter of fact statement of the exposure of ComStar sent the chamber into chaos for a full two minutes. Decorum was a distant second to recrimination and threat as Precentors let fly with language that would have made a Santander Pirate pale. When order was finally assured the Primus rounded on Precentor Waterly. “Precentor Dieron, your actions have placed this order in a position of grave danger, a danger greater than any faced since the days of Blake himself. I move, before this honoured conclave, that the current actions of the ComGuards and the assistance to the Kapteyn powers be halted and that you be stripped of your rank and privileges and exiled from our Blessed Order.” Silence reigned in the chamber as the focus of the First Circuit turned to Myndo, who it appeared was as happy as a cat that had just cornered a mouse. “Dear Julian, how your misguided and aging site has deluded you. You see our fall, where those with the true


32vision of Blake see our triumph. Before you make this little motion of yours, I would direct you to ask three final questions to Precentor ROM and the Precentor Martial. Will cancelling this program stop its discovery? Will the Kapteyn powers be happy with what we have done? But most importantly, how safe will Blessed Terra, the sanctuary of our order, be? The Primus continued to stare at Myndo, locked in an eye to eye battle of wills. Without turning his gaze he addressed Angus and Precentor ROM. “What of these questions ROM, Precentor Martial?” Belov answered before Angus, his smooth voice carrying across utter silence. “Cancellation of these projects will in no way prevent their discovery as we have opened ourselves too far already to prevent their discovery in the longer term. I would also advise, in the strongest possible terms, that the support of the Kapteyn Alliance be continued. We stand to aggravate the F‐C Alliance as it is, with all five powers felling ill‐will towards us, we would be in a dangerous position indeed. Abandoning the Kapteyn Alliance now will leave them in limbo, greatly reducing their chances for success and embittering them for the foreseeable future.” Precentor ROM turned to Angus and nodded, indicating that he was finished and the Precentor Martial should continue. “I must agree with Precentor ROM as to his analysis.” He began. “We would be left gravely exposed should our plan halt now. There is also this to consider: Should we be discovered and also abandon the Kapteyn powers, the ComGuard General Staff and ROM believe that Terra would face something it has not in two centuries – an armed attack. Should our hand be shown to contain such deceit, we would invite attack, even should we retaliate with Interdiction. Should a Successor Lord strike, the others would follow, as none would wish to see the riches of Terra go a single Lord. In such an instance we would need at least fifty full brigades and as many warships as possible to protect our world. Our current plans may have opened Pandora’s Box, however, our actions now will determine what we can draw from it.” And what I can draw from it as well. Silence greeted the two men’s doomsday prophesies as the unthinkable settled into the minds of those gathered: The end of ComStar. Myndo was the one to break the silence. “The matter before us is graver than I think any here realise. The future of our Blessed Order stands at the crossroads of fate. We can move forwards to a glorious future, or wallow in our past and fall into the mists of history. It is my responsibility, no, it is my duty as such, to take the following action.” Staring at the Primus, her face composed, Myndo uttered her challenge. “Primus Julian Tiepolo, in order to protect the future of our Blessed Order and the Vision of Blake himself, I hear by challenge you here and now for the office of the Primus. I do this not for my own benefit and glory, but to, as Blake himself directed, protect the future of mankind by shielding our light from those whose short sighted action would destroy it. This challenge will determine our own personal future and that of our Order.” Several seconds ticked past before the Primus answered. He appeared to be in control, but a slight sheen on his bald head gave point the fact that the turn of events this evening had caused him great surprise and stress.


33 “Very well Myndo. I knew one day the time would come when we faced each other, yet I never believed it would be to face you down so you could not destroy our order.” The Primus turned to face Angus. “Precentor Martial, you will act as the arbiter of this session of voting as all here acknowledge the neutrality of the ComGuards. Neither Precentor Dieron, nor myself are eligible to vote.” Angus was taken aback by the Primus’s direction but nevertheless knew what he was required to do. He looked across the chamber at the faces of the First Circuit members, each alight with anticipation and a combination of foreboding and hope. Every member of the First Circuit was calculating the votes on known allegiances and leanings and most assumed the Primus had the numbers to at least draw the vote. “I have been asked to stand as the neutral arbiter of this vote on the continued Primacy of Julian Tiepolo as opposed the elevation of Myndo Waterly, Precentor Dieron, to the office of the Primus. As decreed by ComStar law, each Precentor of the First Circuit not nominated is entitled to one vote in the matter.” Angus turned slightly to his right to address the first of the Precentors. “Precentor Bryant, how do you vote?” “For Precentor Dieron.” Said the eldest member of the First Circuit. Angus continued, now looking to the first Precentor on his left. “Precentor Procyon, how do you vote?” For the Primus I expect, as you now hold the favour as protégé that Waterly once held. The young man, at least young by comparison to those of the chamber, stood tall as he answered. “For Precentor Dieron.” Shocked murmurs rippled around the room as Myndo appeared smugly triumphant at turning the Primus’s new man. The Primus too appeared shocked as he, and the others in the room, undertook a tally of the expected voting and came up short for the Primus. Angus moved on regardless of the murmuring. “Precentor New Earth, how do you vote?” “For Precentor Dieron.” And so it continued, with Precentors Caph, New Avalon and Tharkad unable to prevent fall of their leader as Precentors Atreus and Sian added their votes to those for Myndo. Once the voting had finished, Angus made his fateful announcement. “The vote to the challenge for the office of Primus by Myndo Waterly, Precentor Dieron against Primus Julian Tiepolo succeeds by a margin of five to four. By the articles of ComStar law, Myndo Waterly is now Primus of ComStar and Julian Tiepolo is now returned to the rank of Precentor.” Tiepolo looked shattered, his vision and dreams gone, his office removed and his future bleak. Nevertheless, he spoke once before departing. “So be it Myndo. I will go quietly, accept such assignments as this august body sees fit to bestow upon me. However, and all of you remember this, the decline and fall of our order began this day and upon each of your heads will the final retribution of fate fall.” Tiepolo then stepped back from the podium and walked from the chamber. None had seen her move, as all had watched Tiepolo’s exit, but when their gazes returned to the chamber proper, all saw Myndo Waterly standing behind the Primus’s


34podium. “Esteemed members of the First Circuit, I humbly accept the office you have bestowed upon me and vow to fulfil the Word of Blake and too strengthen and protect our Blessed Order. I only ask that each of you dedicate yourselves to this task for the betterment of all mankind. I would suggest we adjourn until tomorrow when we will need to vote formally to continue the policies that we have discussed tonight and appoint a new Precentor Dieron.” Everyone in the room knew the new appointee would be one of Myndo’s creatures and her polices would surge forward unhindered. Angus was not sure what to feel. His future and his plan would go forwards for sometime yet, but he could not stop the feeling that he had placed a dangerous and cunning individual in the place that they could do the most harm. He lay awake throughout that night, scenario after scenario playing itself out in his head, with each one ending in bloodshed and horror.


35Chapter 30 Victoria Barracks, Megrez, Free Worlds League 2 April, 3024. All in all, thought Colonel James Hudson, commander of the 2nd Atrean Hussars, it has been a pretty good day. The Colonel, dressed only in a simple white singlet and camouflaged fatigue pants, looked out across the barracks from his office window on the second floor of the main administration building. The orderly rows of building before him, all drab and nondescript, eventually gave way to the parade ground and then in the father distance, the Mech hangars of 2nd Battalion, partly empty now. 2nd Battalion’s 1st Company and their command lance were off planet now, on their way to mount the first ever combat action of the 2nd Atrean Hussars. Force Commander Carolyn Romalo was to lead her own lance and two companies of Mechs, one from the 2nd Hussars and one from the Hussars new friends in the 23rd Marik Militia, on a reconnaissance raid on the critically important Lyran world of Hesperus II. Intelligence had indicated that the garrison had been changed and the LCCC wanted to know what the situation was, as SAFE had been unable to provide sufficient information. The Colonel was proud that his new unit had been honoured with the difficult task. More so, when word came from the LCCC earlier that day, to inform him that the 2nd Hussars were now considered a regular rated regiment. This, more than anything, vindicated the Colonel’s methods and procedures and had initiated some raucous celebrations by those troops off duty that day. The Colonel also knew that part of the reason for the improvement was the assistance the 23rd Militia had provided in training exercises, both here on Megrez and on the 23rd’s garrison posting of McAffe. The Colonel had hit it off with the 23rd’s commanding officer, Colonel Adiss Sullivan, from the outset and both men had worked hard to ensure their units were familiar with each others procedure and methods. The two units had also swapped some Mechs and supplies to better round out their TOE’s, with a company of the Hussar’s heavies being swapped for a company of the 23rd’s fast mediums. It was this company that was now on its way to Hesperus II, with a company of lights from the 23rd and Romalo’s fast heavy command lance as the support unit. Hudson looked to his right as several rather inebriated NCO’s staggered out of the Sergeants mess, obviously setting the example on how to celebrate your unit’s good fortune in proper style. Poor Bastards thought Hudson as he looked at the clock hanging on the wall opposite the window. The clock looked as old as the planet, as did much of the base, but still kept accurate time. 8pm local, six and a half hours until the 23rd’s 1st Battalion lands for the mock assault on Victoria Barracks. This should surprise a few drunks. The 2nd was allowing the 23rd to stage a surprise Battalion level assault in order to assist the 23rd in reaching their own regular rating. Should they be successful on Hesperus II and here on Megrez, the 23rd had every chance of gaining the higher rating.


36 Hudson was glad the assault was coming now, as the 2nd was showing hints of becoming complacent, something a border garrison should never do. The midnight assault, still undetected by the 2nd’s own assets, would serve as more than just a wake up call, it would show Hudson’s men the need for constant vigilance. Vigilance that Hudson knew would be needed over the coming months, as the few bits of information he could lay his hands on pointed to something big in the works. It had all started after the belting the 2nd had given to the 4th Oriente Hussars on New Olympia the year before. The effects of the Affirmation of the Home Defence Act had begun, with many Provincial units flooding home, with less dignity than Lyran Merchant’s Convention. The LCCC moved quickly to reposition Federal forces, and those Provincial troops whose leaders were playing the long game and allowing then LCCC to maintain control over them. These units were rushed to vacated border worlds, the 2nd Hussars amongst them, and in normal circumstances things would have ended there. However, transport assets and supplies were brought forward as well and remained with several commands in forwards positions. The excuse from the higher ups was to allow rapid reaction along the now less defended borders, but Hudson knew that the borders were at 95% of their pre‐move strength, and all of the forward deployed transports and supplies were on the Lyran border. That was the reason why he continued to work hard with his men, something was coming, and it looked like a major assault into the Commonwealth with the 2nd Hussars being right in the middle of the border. The fact that the 2nd and 23rd were hitting Hesperus II, and not leaving it to a more experienced unit begged the question, Where the hell were the experienced units? That was answered the week before, when Colonel Sullivan had informed him of raids by the Border Protectorate’s Iron Guards, the 1st Free Worlds Guards and the 13th and 25th Marik Militia’s, all along the border with the Federation of Skye. The more he thought about it, the more Hudson became convinced that his unit, like many of the other new formations, had been created for the singular purpose of bringing the Lyran Commonwealth to its knees. That thought was just fine with the Colonel.


37Chapter 31 Forbidden City, Sian Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation, 28 April, 3024. Candace Liao looked across the mahogany table, the same table over which she and her sister had last fought. The table’s deep colour and high polish allowed her to see her own reflection, and that of the others at the table, reflected up at her. Those reflections showed people that Candace believed were no longer fit to hold such power, yet possessed enough of that power to prevent her taking it from them easily. At the head of the table sat the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation, Maximillian Liao, her father. Maximillian was a gaunt shadow of his former virility, the attempted poisoning of the entire family had hit him the hardest. Only recently had he had the strength to return to full time duties, but they still taxed him sorely. To Candace’s left sat the ever pompous and arrogant Senior Colonel Pavel Ridzik, an eternal schemer, whose place as the commander of the Capellan Defence Force was a constant thorn in Candace’s side, especially as he seemed inclined to support her sister Romano against her. The Colonel, as ever, was turned out in his heavily decorated uniform, his beard neat and trimmed and his general appearance immaculate. Romano Liao, Candace’s sister and rival for power, was seated to her right. Romano had suffered the effects of the poisoning to a greater extent than Candace had, but not to the extent that their father had suffered. The event had sent Romano into a descending cycle of paranoia, a paranoia which had seen half the place staff executed and the household guards shot, or exiled to the frontline, before Candace could halt the bloodshed. The Maskirovka had been unable to determine who had made the attempt, little though it would have mattered, as Romano had blamed Candace and seemed intent on turning her father’s mind down the same path. Little by little, Romano was succeeding, something that alarmed Candace. Candace, however, planned to see her sister at the front of an unsupported advance into the Chesterton worlds, where she could earn honor as a martyr for the Capellan state. Maximillian, his voice a shadow of its former self, a state the doctors said would remain for the rest of his life began, what Candace assumed, would be a fairly straight forward discussion. “Colonel, please advise us all as to how you plan to return the worlds of Chesterton, amongst others, to the Confederation.” “Certainly, Celestial Paragon.” Began Ridzik. “My plan is simple, strait forward and bound to bring glory to the office of the Chancellor.” Candace fumed on the inside, YOUR PLAN WORM!?! You and that rat sister of mine took my plan, MY PLAN, and simply modified it. Your ability to think original thoughts died years ago. At least I know where you truly stand. Ridzik talked on, completely unaware of the hatred flowing at him from down the table. “The plan is to be called Operation SUN TZU, and will have as its primary aims the


38reconquest of the Chesterton Worlds and the cutting off of the Federated Suns from Terra.” Maximillian beamed like a school child who had just gotten into the chocolate bowl. “Sun Tzu” he wheezed “Colonel, you choose a most appropriate name for our operation, please continue.”

Ridzik nodded his thanks and moved on with his briefing, pressing a small button on the console before him, which sat under the rim of the table. A map of all the star systems within 100 light years of Terra began floating above the table, those of the Confederation in green and those of the Federated Suns in orange.

“As you can see, we plan to modify the strike plan the Duchess of St. Ives plans to use for her assaults rimward, modified and improved to accommodate the needs of this larger invasion.” Candace continued to be amazed at the lengths the little man was going to infuriate her. You are ensuring, good Pavel, that when the time comes, I may have to make sure that your lingering end is something I have a personal hand in. Again the Colonel continued, unaware of Candace’s thoughts. “We plan to strip units from the Free Worlds border and reserve areas of the Tikonov, Sarna and Capella Commonalities, as well as using troops from parts of the Sarna and Tikonov borders with the Federated Suns. This will provide us with approximately thirty Mech regiments and the requisite supporting forces for an all out assault on the Federated Suns. Whilst these units are moving into place, ComStar forces will be moving to protect the border with the Free Worlds League.” Candace was still impressed by the numbers of units to be employed every time she heard the plan discussed. Although little better than three Divisions of the old SLDF, thirty regiments was a major portion the Capellan military, and a vast force by modern standards. “We plan to strike in two initial primary areas,” Ridzik continued, “near Valexa and across the Federated Suns side of the Tikonov and Ronel salients. These strikes will accomplish several goals for our forces. Firstly, the assaults on Valexa, Ulan Bator and Chesterton will deprive the AFFS of its nearest major supply and logistics node as well as placing Confederation troops on the primary target world, a huge moral boost for all units involved.” Candace had to admit that both those actions were necessary. “Secondly, hitting Mirach, New Rhodes, Rio, Angol, Castleton and Sonnia, will begin the isolation of AFFS forces in the Terran Corridor.” Maximillian beamed across the table as the target worlds began to glow red. “Colonel, your plan is audacious, how do you plan to follow it up?” “The second wave of assaults will use forces from our own border, leaving a reserve of forces to deal with Davion counter‐attacks, which we assume will materialise once the AFFS understands the full nature of the assaults.” I had to argue for hours to get you to use a reserve you little pig, and now it is another of your wonderful ideas. Still, the reserve will be my ace in the hole. Thought Candace to herself. Ridzik seemed to be getting into stride as he continued on with his briefing, seeming to believe that by stating these great plans in such a grandiose way, would assure them of success. “This second wave will seek to further isolate advance Davion units by


39landings on Algot, Mira, Messertim, Basalt, Ruchbah, Huan and Ankaa. These assaults will completely isolate the New Aragon salient and every remaining world in the Terran Corridor, as well as establishing a direct link with forces from the DCMS. A third wave will seek to reduce the worlds of Demeter, Almach, Nopah, Kawich, Deneb Kaitos and Addicks with the final worlds of Halloran V, New Aragon, Northwind and Caph left for the final wave of assaults.” The Colonel seemed insufferably pleased with himself once he had finished his presentation. Both Maximillian and Romano seemed just as happy with the planned assaults as Colonel Ridzik was, both wearing contented smiles. Time to rain on this parade. “Dear Colonel” began Candace “just how long will each wave of assaults be?” The Colonel did not even look up as he answered. “Three months, no more, the AFFS will be totally overwhelmed by our attacks.” Candace smiled. “I believe you will need at least twice that amount of time, in addition to retaining further forces in your reserve, four regimental groups in reserve is hardly enough. Additionally, leaving the command world of Addicks in place until wave three is, in my view a dangerous decision.” “You coward,” spat Romano, a look of pure hate in her eyes. “You would seek to cut away at the masterful plan Colonel Ridzik and I constructed. Your jealousy is unbecoming, you wish to see me fail by stripping regiments away and hiding them in your reserve, but I will not let it happen.” Ah little sister thought Candace your stupidity knows no bounds. By placing me in the “inferior” position as commander of the reserves, you have assured that you will never see the supplies you need, nor the reinforcements required, when Hanse Davion shoves the 12th Vegan Rangers down your throat. Once they finish with you, then and only then, will I ride in to rescue the martyr’s body. But you are right Romano, the more troops in the reserve; the more powerful will be my latter assaults. “I merely wish to ensure the long term viability of our assaults, I would not dream of casting aspersions upon the Colonel’s masterful plan.” Returned Candace. A plan I put together. Maximillian looked across at Candace, a sheen of sweat on his brow and a dark look in his eyes. “Enough Candace, you have your own glorious assault to plan and lead, trying to weaken your sisters own glory is demeaning. Were I stronger, I would lead this assault myself, so you will show Romano the same respect as you would to me.” Romano beamed a smile of pure triumph and complete insanity at Candace as the meaning of Maximillian’s words struck home. Romano was now the favourite, Candace the second. So father, now the lines are clearly drawn. Apart from my brother, who is of little real use to me at present, you stand with your Colonel and my little sister and any other who would oppose me. Candace continued to mull over the resolution of her father’s favour as Romano fawned over the Chancellor. Somehow I think this is all well and good. My father’s decision forces me to act quickly and decisively, knowing all the while exactly where I stand. I command St. Ives father, and you have given me the forces of Sian and your new pet units, as well as putting me in the position to pull the invasion’s strings.


40Whilst your two favourites are off trying to get themselves killed, and I am sure I can help there, you will be here on Sian, with little more than my army between you and great celestial beyond.


41Chapter 32 Imperial City, Luthien Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine, 28 April, 3024. The Command centre of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery was quite, very quite, as Coordinator Theodore Kurita entered the room and returned the bows of his assembled commanders. Before him in the wood panelled room were the five Warlords of the Combine, Gunji‐no‐Kanrei Yorinaga Kurita and his aide, General Ganacheho. The men were all attired in the dress uniforms of the Combine, as was Theodore, the black, high collard tunic and trousers with red stripes, denoting each man as a Mechwarrior. Theodore moved to the head of the table, above which floated a map showing the upper half of the Inner Sphere. To his immediate left, as impassive as always, was the serene presence of Yorinaga Kurita, Gunji‐no‐Kanrei of the DCMS, a man who Theodore now knew he could entrust any task to. Yorinaga had overseen the largest expansion in the DCMS since the Star League era. Eight new regiments of BattleMechs were now on the rolls, along with numerous supporting forces, each of which was a symbol of the new order in the Combine. Despite the obvious power of the new units and the benefits of their new way of thinking, many within the DCMS were vehemently opposed to the creation of these units and the other reforms that Theodore and Yorinaga had instituted. One of the most dangerous effects of this outcry was the indignation of the Sword of Light regiments, the traditional avatars of the Coordinator’s will. Long had Yorinaga and Theodore discussed the means of assuaging the Sword of Light’s Samurai, finally deciding to give them the honour of spearheading the main invasions to come. The Sword of Light Commanders would be informed of this honour by the Coordinator himself in two weeks, hopefully satisfying their honour. Both men believed that this would be part, but not all of the solution. The other part would be the success of the new regiments; something Theodore had complete faith in, due to Yorinaga’s influence. Next to Yorinaga was his aide, General Ganacheho, a man who was rapidly gaining the respect of both men, through his dedication to both men and his ability to identify weaknesses in plans and either eliminate the weakness, or create strengths from them. The man was quite spoken and unassuming, but Theodore had learnt over time that Ganacheho could also be a very compassionate man, with deep concerns for those he may order into battle. To Ganacheho’s left was the first of the assembled Warlords, Ivan Sorenson, Warlord of Rasalhague. Sorensen had the potential to be the greatest thorn in Theodore’s side, yet the removal of Cherenkoff and Samsonov the previous year had taken the hostile edge of Sorenson. Sorenson seemed to be working well under the new system Yorinaga had instituted, that of the Warlords working together, not against each other. He still clung to the older ways, opposing many of the Kanrei’s and the Coordinator’s reforms, but Theodore was happy for the opposition. Yes men were of no use, and many of the old


42ways still held value. Still, the old fox required watching, and that was what the ISF was for. Next to Sorenson, on his right, was the dark skinned Warlord of Galedon, Minobu Tetsuhara, the man who was responsible, along with Jamie Wolf, for the remarkable progress of the Ryuken regiments. Tetsuhara was quickly justifying his elevation to Warlord and Theodore was contemplating his future as a possible Gunji‐no‐Kanrei, should Yorinaga ever step down. Next around the table was the old man of the High Command, Warlord of Dieron, Hester Hsiun Chi. The old man had been invigorated by his assignment from Pesht to the frontline of Dieron and by all accounts was whipping his district into a frenzy of training and inspections, throwing off the malaise that had set in under his predecessor. Theodore smiled inwardly, as he had always believed that his father had wasted the old mans talents. Next to Hsiun Chi was Warlord Shotogama of Benjamin. The narrow faced man had, like Sorenson, flourished under Yorinaga’s style of leadership and his position in the coming war would be crucial, as he marshalled the reserves and resources of the Combine. In the past, this would have been a great dishonour, but in the current climate, each Warlord knew his success relied on Shotogama, and each accorded him all the respect due a front line commander. The last man, to Theodore’s right, was the new Warlord of Pesht, the man who would assist Sorenson in his assaults into the Tamar Pact. Warlord Markt, was as always, turned out to perfection, no mean feat amongst the men assembled, as all looked like pictures of military precision. The Warlord had brought the same attention to detail to his running of the Pesht district, cutting away at the sluggishness that sometimes took over that least threatened of commands. Theodore breathed deeply before beginning. “Thankyou all for your attendance here today, I know your efforts on the Combine’s behalf have been unceasing and stand as an example to all Samurai of what duty truly means. Please, Kanrei, I do not wish to keep you or your dedicated commanders too long, as there is much I know you still mean to accomplish, so if you would please provide the general details of the plan for the assault on our foes.” Yorinaga bowed deeply before beginning. “Coordinator, you honour our meagre efforts on the Dragon’s behalf far too greatly. We merely carry out your instructions in the way we would assume the Dragon itself would. However, as we know the Dragon’s time is precious, we will provide our plan in its current form.” Theodore nodded, deeply thankful that the man before him commanded his armies. How stupid you were to discard this man father, he is the future of the Combine. Yorinaga began. “The overall plan consists of three separate operations, striking at four places along our border. The strike into the Lyran Commonwealth’s Tamar Pact is Operation URIZEN, commanded by Warlord Sorenson and aided by Warlord Markt. This assault will begin in January 3025 and be launched in conjunction with the attack on the Galedon Thumb.” Two sets of arrows moved out from the red worlds, denoting the Draconis Combine, on the map, one into the blue of the Lyran Commonwealth and the other into the orange of the Federated Suns.


43 “This second assault with be commanded by Warlord Tetsuhara and is designated Operation SHIRO. I will take up station on Galedon to give the perception that this is the main assault in to the Federated Suns.” Theodore nodded. “Yes, we must convince the Fox that we intended to drive on New Avalon. Will the Dragoon’s be involved at all and what of the final thoughts on Tamar?” Yorinaga looked to Tetsuhara and nodded. The man bowed to the Coordinator before beginning. “We believe it necessary to involve the Dragoons to get Davion’s full attention. However, we need to be able to rapidly shift the Dragoons towards Terra when the time comes. To that end, Alpha Regiment, along with Zeta Battalion and the Black Widows, will accompany the first strikes. They will be withdrawn in late February and made ready for the later assaults.” Yorinaga then turned to Sorenson, who took up the narrative. “We have decided against an assault on Tamar, unless the LCAF defence falls apart completely. The aim of Operation URIZEN was never to gain great amounts of territory, only to occupy the LCAF. Attacking Tamar would incite the entire region against us and possibly over extend the attacks. It is with this in mind that we will leave Tamar alone, unless we achieve an overwhelming advantage in the region.” Theodore nodded again. “Very well, your reasoning seems sound. Will the Dragoons have time to make Terra with such a late departure?” Yorinaga answered. “Not normally, no. However, with the additional transport assets at had, we will be able to shift the rapidly towards Terra and have them in place no later than May 27th.” “Very well. And the main assaults?” Yorinaga looked towards Warlord Hsiun Chi who bowed deeply before speaking. “Coordinator, in July 3025, units from the Pesht, Benjamin and Dieron Districts, assisted by the Regiments of Wolf’s Dragoons, will strike into both the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth as part of Operation NOBUNAGA. Their primary task will be to link up with forces from the Capellan Confederation and Free Worlds League, cutting off the F‐C troops near Terra and then annihilating them one world at a time.” Above the table, the map showed the 150 light year lateral movement of the Dragoon’s forces and then the movement of DCMS forces into the territory of its enemies. The old Warlord continued. “Our first strikes are aimed at meeting with our allies and as such will hit the worlds of Galatea and Ozawa in the Federated Suns and Skondia, Alkalukrops and Nusakan in the Lyran commonwealth.” Theodore looked across at Yorinaga. “This will not seal off the allied forces completely.” “No Coordinator. We do not have the forces or logistics for the full set of assaults, we have also planned for the worst case scenario, with many troops tied up on Galedon and Tamar under F‐C counter‐attacks. We have allowed for accelerations to the timetable if they can be managed.” Theodore bowed to the Kanrei. As always you plan for the future, leaving nothing to chance, I should not have questioned you.


44 Hsiun chi continued on. “The second wave will fully seal the meeting with our allies, with strikes on the Davion worlds of Helen and Towne and the Steiner worlds of Lyons, Galatea and Zebebelganubi. Our third wave will begin the reduction of the remaining troops of both realms with the AFFS being hit on Quentin and Errai and the LCAF on Summer, Menkent and Zolikofen. The final wave will see the Suns hit on Staffel and Formahault and the Commonwealth on Rigil Kentaurus, Murphid and Skye. This last world will be struck to take pressure off the Marik drive on Hesperus.” Theodore was impressed, by both the audacity and the overall simplicity of the plan. Should it succeed, the Combine would be safe for at least a decade and be the paramount power in the Inner Sphere. Yet Theodore had one more question. “What of ComStar. What happens when the finally betray us?” Warlord Shotogama looked at the Coordinator, asking the question on every man’s lips. “Why would ComStar betray us?” “Because they are ComStar.” Said Theodore. “And it is their nature to betray.”


45Chapter 33 LCCC HQ, Marik. Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League 28 April, 3024. Janos Marik sipped his tea, made the way he liked it, weak, sugary and full of milk. Most others gagged when drinking his tea, Thomas calling it warm, milky sugar water, which was pretty close to the mark. Still, Janos liked it, and it helped him think during long meetings, like this one. He placed his tall mug, chipped, cracked and batted from over thirty years of use – he would drink from no other if at all possible ‐ down on the stone table top. The Minister for Defence, busily writing notes, looked up as Janos put his mug down. “I am sorry Captain‐General, I missed what you just said.” “We need to revise the general plan, now that we have hammered out most of the finer points. I want the picture of our efforts clear in everyone’s heads before we move on.” Said Janos. “Certainly Captain‐General, I am sure the Marshall of Dieudonne would be most suited for that.” The ever harassed looking Minister indicated to the portly Marshall of Dieudonne, Everett Franks, a man who looked every inch the General gone to seed. That may have been the case, and Frank’s days of getting in a Mech were long past, but his acumen for strategic planning was undiminished. Marshal Franks, rubbing his ever red nose, no doubt gained from enjoying a few too many fine brandies, a few too many times, looked around the room to assure he held everyone’s attention. Apart from the Minister for Defence, who was still scribbling notes, the other members of the High Command were all ears. Included in the group were the other four Marshalls of the Military Commands: Marshall Lisa Topfer of Sterling Command: Marshall Michael Svikis of Kendall Command; Marshall Rudolf Salt of Holt Command; and Marshall Tamara Olafson of Granera Command. Due to the restructuring of the League forces, following the recent Act’s of Parliament, the command centres of all but Dieudonne had moved, with the lines of control between the commands being redrawn. In addition to the Marshalls, also present were the permanent members of the League Central Coordination and Command body, the LCCC: General Akita Hayashi, Director of Military Intelligence, the man who would also be responsible for overall intelligence distribution and analysis as well as integrating captured worlds back into the League; General Adeline Simmons, Quartermaster General, a person for whom Christmas had come early due to the influx of ComStar supplies; General Iasa Toeava, Chief Armourer, the man who was trying to coax a little more production from League facilities for the upcoming war; General Sarah Topfer, Lisa’s twin sister who, as Occupation Liaison Officer, would work closely with General Hayashi to integrate captured worlds into the League; and General Frederick Sohel, Government Liaison Officer, who would work with the Defence Minister to get the plan approved by Parliament. Once Franks had everyone’s undivided attention he began his summing up of the discussion so far in his deep drawl. “As of January One, Three Thousand and Twenty Five,


46our troops will launch Operation THRESHER, under command of Marshall Topfer, with the express intention of misdirecting Lyran forces from our planned major strike into the Federation of Skye. Eight BattleMech Regiments, with three more in reserve, and twenty one total conventional Brigades, supported by twenty Aerospace Wings, will strike at eight worlds in the triangle of Pecander‐Cavanaugh II‐Bolan in two waves. This attack is designed to pull significant Lyran reserves onto itself, in an effort to tie them up for at least the remainder of 3025. The main assault formation will consist of forces already on the border, or close to it, in the form of the 2nd and 6th Free Worlds Guards, 1st, 3rd and 5th Fusiliers of Oriente, 1st Oriente Hussars and the Mercenary units Caesar’s Cohorts and Clifton’s Rangers. Reserve forces will consist of a formation under the command of Marshall Svikis, with Mech regiments from his own command, in the form of the 5th Oriente Hussars and the 2nd and 3rd Atrean Dragoons along with several of the above mentioned conventional Brigades for garrison of captured worlds.” It seemed to Janos that the rotund Marshall had said the entire spiel in one breath, just as Janos noticed that he had held his own for some considerable time whilst listening. Smiling, Janos addressed the Marshall. “Thankyou for the summary of THRESHER, Marshall Franks, if you could summarise GARIBALDI for us as well, it would be greatly appreciated, perhaps leaving out unit assignments, for brevity?” The Marshall nodded, his jowls shaking. “Certainly Captain‐General, it would be my pleasure. From July One, Three Thousand and Twenty Five, our main attack against the Lyrans with go in, under the overall Command of myself, Marshall of Dieudonne and Marshall Salt, commanding the strategic reserve. Fifteen regiments of BattleMechs, largely drawn from the existing reserve and the Capellan border, will materialise in the Lyran systems of Solaris, Zaniah, Phecada, Garrux and Wyatt, creating a base for second wave attacks and securing several important systems.” The Marshall paused before continuing. “I must apologise Captain‐General, but I must again voice my opposition to the assault on Solaris. The world is effectively neutral and the negative publicity we will take following any attack will not be in our best interests. Besides, if those crazy eyed gladiators all decide they don’t like us much, there’ll be right hell to pay.” Janos looked across at the elder man, knowing full well his concerns, but still knowing that the necessity of neutralising the Lyran forces on Solaris was critical. “Marshall, I understand your concerns, but we must drive off the 10th Skye Rangers and 32nd Lyran Guards or they will be in position to threaten our flank.” The old Marshall’s shoulders slumped a little. “As you say Captain‐General, I merely feel it is my sworn duty to speak up when conscience demands it.” Janos smiled at the man. “Thankyou Marshall, that’s why you are here. Please continue.” The old Marshall, as if no break had occurred, launched straight back into his narrative of the operation. “Second Wave targets will be struck by later arriving units of the Capellan Front and will land, on what we hope to be, less defended worlds in the interior of the Skye Province, effecting a link up with Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery Regiments. The Skye worlds we plan to occupy in this wave are to be Milton, Alchiba, Cor Caroli, Alcor and Videmiatrix. This, our second invasion wave, can undertake operations at any date


47from October Thirty One. Following the completion of our Second Wave, First Wave units will effect a leap frog movement over the newly won worlds and begin the subjugation of the planets of Zavijava, Lipton, Alioth, Mizar and Algorab, starting some time after February 3026. The final assault, our projected Wave Four, beginning around June that same year, will attempt to take Chara, Thorin, New Earth and Caledonia, the last as the jumping off point for the assault on the real prize: Hesperus II.” Janos felt the chill that always came when that world, Hesperus II, was mentioned. That single world produced nearly as many BattleMechs as two thirds of the total Free World’s production. Dozens of FWLM and DCMS regiments had their graves on that world, lost in over a dozen assaults. This time would be different, the LCAF would be overloaded and the FWLM would land a massive assault force to finally cripple the Commonwealth permanently. The Marshall of Holt, Michael Salt, a large man with a bald head and fierce look, had a further question for the Marshall of Dieudonne. “What of the reserve, where will they come from? I don’t see how we can hold a reserve and still mount these assaults.” The Old Marshall smiled. “I think our Captain‐General has something to help there.” Janos did, and it was precious, almost as satisfying as the coup he and Thomas had pulled off the year before. “Gentlemen and Ladies, as you know, the Affirmation of the Home Defence Act has allowed the industrialised Provinces that exist well within the borders of the League to horde their considerable military forces with little risk of committing them to battle, namely Regulus and Gibson. The Province of Andurien will soon be cosponsoring a Bill with Oriente, which demands the use of 40% of these forces at all times by the League and 80% under situations of duress for the League, that duress determined by Parliament. Marik, Stewart, Graham‐Marik and all the other “protected Provinces” are mentioned in the Bill. Most of these however, apart from Stewart, have left their mainline formations under control of the LCCC, seeking to curry favour with the office of the Captain‐General, in the face of the concentration of the larger Provinces power. The Bill will be introduced this week, Marik will support it, as will many of our allies and, I expect, all the Border States. For once, Andurien has done us a great favour, and given us legal access to the BattleMech forces of Regulus and Stewart and the support forces of the other interior Provinces. I am sure Parliament will call the coming invasions a time of “Duress”, in fact, I will see to it that they do. With that duress, and the few other reserves at hand, we will have from five to eight BattleMech regiments in reserve for use anywhere in the League. Oriente and Andurien can hold down the Capellan border as needed, but that is likely unnecessary in the short term. The conversation that greeted the Captain‐General’s announcement was positive and continued for some time, as the Marshalls and General discussed the implications of the new found ability of their group to direct the full might of the Free worlds League against their ancient foe, something that had, for many years, been impossible.


48Chapter 34 The Triad, Tharkad. Protectorate of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth 15 May, 3024.

Katrina Steiner twisted the pawn in her fingers as she stared at the chessboard before here, the small piece, cut in the image of the premiere Lyran light Mech, the Commando, spun effortlessly as she focused on defeating here General of the Armies. She was taking, to put no small emphasis on the point, a complete hiding. Edward Regis, as always, was able to think many more moves in front of Katrina and was mercilessly hounding her into a position where check mate would be called. It’s too hard to concentrate with the news I keep receiving. Marik raids all along the border, the Oberon Confederation undertaking a sudden surge of empire building, although at least they have rid us Ryan and those other cut throats in the region, the Combine revitalised and even Hanse beginning to worry at the signs. “A Kroner for your thoughts Archon?” said the General, in his slow measured speech, as he reached out smiling to remove yet another of her pieces from the board. Despite the smile, Edward still looked basset hound sad, he always did, his heavy features and beard making him seem to carry the weight of the universe on his shoulders. Katrina put the piece down, next to the few others she had managed to take from her General and pushed her chair back from the table, stretching her neck from side to side to loosen it. “I fear for the Commonwealth Edward. Too much is beginning to swirl too quickly around us. At times I even think this all may be due to my own actions.” The General removed his own hand from next to the board and reached for his crystal glass, full of spicy green ginger wine, taking a sip of the warming drink before answering. “You think, that by your Peace Proposal, you have forced the other powers into actions that will eventually lead to great pain and suffering for the Lyran people?” Katrina felt the pang of guilt that always struck with that thought. What if I have brought this war on my people? “Edward, my actions in the proposal and then acceptance of Hanse’s offer have galvanised our enemies, and if Quintus and Simon Johnson are correct, may have antagonised ComStar. The new Primus is no friend of ours; she has openly stated in the past that she detests our attitude to her order. My actions would not be the first time in history that good intentions have led to catastrophe.” The General placed his glass down, thinking for a moment before answering. “I think you overestimate our enemy’s abilities and motivations. Yes, I agree that matters are proceeding faster than we thought they might, no one really expected another major round of conflict before 3030. That may still end up being the case, but I am now inclined to believe we will see action in the 3026‐3027 time frame. However, our enemies would have struck out regardless of your actions; they always have and always will. We can be thankful that we have the time we do to prepare. There is also the fact that, come what may, the LCAF is improving daily and the Lyran State cannot be out produced in the long term. Davion will occupy Kurita and one point or another and Liao and Marik will fall to


49fighting at some stage, both points are givens, we merely have to weather the storm until then, something the Commonwealth has proven adept at doing in the past. Besides, our recent hiring’s in the mercenary halls give me confidence that we will have the reserves we need to meet any expected attacks.” Katrina reached for her own glass, enjoying the feel of the sweet, spicy, yet smooth taste of the wine. She thought for a few moments before responding. “You are far too kind at times General. Still, I must agree with your analysis, apart from the mercenary situation. Intelligence says that the other states have also begun hiring extra units, so we break even there. What are your thoughts on the Oberon situation?” The Oberon Confederation, long a source of pirate raids on the Commonwealth, had legitimised itself in recent times and had suddenly taken to crushing the nearby pirate bands over the last year and a half. The General chuckled. “I never thought I would praise former pirate, but old Grimm and his band have done for us, that which we have tried to do for decades. The assaults on Butte Hold and Last Chance seemed opportunistic, but the follow up strikes on Star’s End and Gotterdammerung, though very costly, showed an appreciation for large scale operations we never though possible from them. Apart from opening the Elysian Fields to some pretty savage raids from Santander, Grimm now has the shipyards from Star’s End and seven new worlds as part of the Confederation, as well as having gotten rid of three major pirate bands. Talk is he is looking at Von Strang’s World and a punitive expedition to Santander V for a little payback. The thing that interests me the most is the number of conventional mercenary commands that were hired an integrated into the Oberon Guards along with planetary militia forces, giving them the ability to hold what they took. More importantly, if the LIC is right, they are producing tanks on Oberon and have eventual designs on the Chainlaine Isles. If all this is true, we have a small successor to the Rim Worlds arising on or border.” “Hmmm.” Was the only response at first from Katrina. “That’s all well and good but what I really meant was how it fits into the larger picture. We are getting reports of conflict right across the Periphery, nothing major, but enough to make me think something else is at play.” “ComStar?” asked the General “They are the only ones with the reach and influence.” “Why. They detest the Periphery, what purpose does it serve.” “That I wish I knew. However, I am more than willing to interfere with them, if they are responsible, to the Commonwealth’s benefit.” The General sat back a little in his chair. “If you wish to destabilise the Confederation, that’s something best discussed with the LIC, not the General Staff.” Katrina eyes took on a glint and her voice hardened. “Quite the opposite Edward, I want to provide any assistance we can to the noble people of Oberon who have acted in the best interests of all, by securing the safety of the coreward border. We will offer assistance funding, technical support and exercises between our forces. We will legitimise them and at the same time bind them to us economically. They will be


50haemorrhaging funds from their campaigns at the moment and will take anything we offer. Having a secure coreward flank will be in the LCAF’s best interests as well.” The General leaned his head slightly to one side, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think they will bite.” “I will make sure that they do. Everyone has their price.” Both sat for a moment, thinking on the implications of what a nominally allied Oberon would mean, before Katrina asked a second question. “What of my request for information regarding permanent transport assets for the strategic reserve?” The plan was to provide the LCAF with the ability to throw nearly every major Mech unit and its supporting formations, from the Alarion, Donegal and Coventry Provinces, into the frontline within six months of a major war breaking out. The plan was ambitious, but Katrina believed it was absolutely necessary. The General’s voice took on a deep serious note. “It can be done, but will tie up 75% of the spare transport capacity of the LCAF. Should a strong enemy attack evolve, units would be stranded on several worlds and we may have to make a choice between local counter‐attacks or withdrawing forces, not both.” “Do it then. Also have plans drawn up for those units to respond when and if needed. Units under threat of destruction on the border are to be given priority in any assault. They will pull back, link up with local reserves and hold the line until the main reserve can mount a full strength counter attack. Also update any plans for the uptake of civilian vessels. I don’t want to touch them unless it becomes a necessity, but plan for the worst, just in case.” “By your tone I expect you do not wish to be talked out of this?” The General stated, looking grim. “No. I know this will tie us to a responsive strategy, but as our enemies have aligned themselves against us and we lack the strength for an effective pre‐emptive strike, I see no alternatives.” In order to bring the conversation to a close, Katrina leaned back in over the board. “Now to see if I can finally defeat you at this infernal game.”


51Chapter 35 Zenith Jump Point, Hood IV, Main Street Theatre, Lyran Commonwealth. 6 June, 3024.

Villius Tejh looked out of the forward view port of the Dropship Explorer’s Rest

towards his destination, the Explorer Corps JumpShip Outward Hope. Villius was, strangely enough, quite happy to be joining the Explorer Corps. His stress levels since his departure from the First Circuit had been reduced to almost nil and he had been able to no longer dabble in his true passion, but actively purse it.

Villius was an astrophysicist by training, something he had earned a Doctorate in before called to join the ComStar Order. Ever since the day he began to follow Blake’s true path, he had made sure he kept himself aware of the advances and studies of his field. This made the banishment to the Explorer Corps, more of a return home, as he had spent three years aboard the CSS Stellar Grace, early in his ComStar career as a junior science officer.

His former rank as a Precentor of the First Circuit was a boon in his new posting as well, making his appointment as anything less than a mission commander an insult to his rank and experience. This put him on par with the DropShip and JumpShip Captains and entitled him to his own, quite well appointed, cabin. He had enjoyed the company of the DropShip Captain, Alexis Savarov, as the man had none of the pretensions and arrogance of his former peers in the First Circuit. Savarov simply lived his work and enjoyed it immensely, which made a very refreshing change for Villius. Yes, he could well come to call the man a good friend one day. He was not looking forwards to meeting the Captain of the Outward Hope, that man seemed like a taciturn and altogether difficult person to deal with, if his communications with Savarov were any indication of his temperament.

The DropShip slowed to a crawl as it made its final docking manoeuvres, Savarov and Captain Breton of the Hope, constantly talking as the docking continued. As the ships finally connected and the docking collar was secured, Villius unbuckled himself from his seat, bid Savarov a good day and good job, and floated out of the bridge and into the corridor, where he activated his magnetic boots and began the walk to the elevators. The walk took him past one of the mandated posters that the new Primus, his old rival Myndo Waterly, had ordered placed in most areas of all ships, one that spelled out the future glory of the order and the eventual triumph of Blake’s will.

It all rang a little hollow for Villius, believing as he did that her path was going to lead the order to destruction. Villius saw three possibilities arising form that madwoman’s ascent to the office of the Primus. Firstly, she would antagonise the Inner Sphere powers to such an extent that they would threaten the order, allowing her to increase her powers and use her new military toy against them becoming, in effect, that what Jerome Blake totally forbid: a new Successor Lord. It would fit her god complex personality. Now that she controlled ComStar she would feel it was not enough and strike out to gain more power.


52A second path was similar to the first, but she would overreach and the decadent

Successor Lords would fall on the Order and Terra, despite the new military that was being built and the Order would be erased from history. This was the most likely path that Villius could surmise; he just did not see how the aggravation of the Successor States could work out the other way successfully in most instances.

The third possibility was one he did not think Waterly, or any of the First Circuit saw. Villius did though, and it frightened him all the more, because it would be so simple to execute. Execute being the appropriate word, for that is what would happen to ComStar should it ever come to pass, executed swiftly and suddenly. Hamilton, the man was a Janus, he held two faces, but most dismissed him as an honest and straight forward military man of little ambition. Ambition there might not be, but the man had honour and a deep belief in what was right and more importantly, what was right for Terra. Should Waterly threaten Terra in anyway, the new ComGuards, dawn largely from the Terran system would, in Villius’s view, be unleashed on ComStar in a heart beat. It was this that kept him up at night thinking, this and his former colleagues dismissal of it as the fear of an old man over simple change. However it turned out, it would not really matter, Villius would be gone for five years and if all things went to plan, be left on a world of his choosing, never to return.


53Chapter 36 Selldon Valley, Hesperus II Rhaneshire, Lyran Commonwealth. 15 June, 3024.

Dan Allard concentrated as hard as he could as the broken and distorted radio chatter from his Battalion’s Third Company came over his Mechs speakers. It was difficult to make out, due to the broken a highly ferrous terrain at the north end of the Selldon Valley, but the general picture was slowly improving. Dan’s Battalion, now known among the Kell Hounds as Dan’s Dingos, after a particularly off colour joke when one of his men stolen the 15th Lyran Guards Tank Commanders ride, which he often referred to as his baby, had been hunting two Marik companies for a week now.

The two light/medium companies had dropped out of what were thought to be inbound merchant Mech transports, before the two ships turned and fled to a pre‐determined pirate point for a pick up, essentially stranding the two companies. Ever since then, the Kell Hounds had been out hunting, whilst the two slower Lyran units formed a ring around the Defiance and N&D complexes, that no raider could possibly get through.

The three Kell Hounds Battalions had been out hunting in the barren and bare badlands of the upper Selldon Valley trying, it would seem vainly, for the last three weeks, to hunt the bandits down. No matter what the Hounds tried, the two Marik companies just kept vanishing into the landscape, although that was not as hard as it sounded. The terrain was akin to a coral garden made of rock, making long range visuals difficult. Additionally, dust storms of varying intensity had been blowing for a month now, making aerial surveillance next to useless as well. All the iron in the rock also made other Mech sensors degrade as well as interfering with communications. All in all in was a hunter’s hell. Only three times had the Marik Mechs been engaged, and each time the contact had lasted less than two minutes and no one had managed decent hits on either side. Until now.

Fifteen minutes ago, as Dan’s Third Company, sweeping up a valley, two over from his own company’s assigned valley, was hit in the right flank by one of the Marik companies, whilst the second Marik company hit them head on. Dan’s light third company had crumpled and began calling for assistance. By the time Second Company, in their heavy Mechs could get over the ridge, five Mechs were down with no kills on the Marik forces. As Second Company began to engage at long range, the Marik units began a rapid fighting withdrawal, with what was left of Third Company, trying to outflank them along the ridge to the west once they regrouped and recovered, leaving the Marik Mechs with a fair head start. Both Kell Hound companies were driving north, towards the head of the small valley. Dan marched his own First Company, which was backed by his Command Lance into the valley vacated by Second Company and began moving north at pace, to try and get over the head of this valley and into the Marik force’s rear. If they moved fast enough, they would be able to deal the Marik units severe damage.


54Dan’s sixteen Mechs began to crest the head of the valley, and turned north west

to cross over a small plateau, that sat below a much larger flat area, three hundred meters up a moderate slope to the north. The Marik Mechs were heading for the western slope to try and gain the higher ground and Dan was moving to prevent that by blocking the head of the valley they were retreating up.

Dan moved his force out with his heavy Lance on the right, to the south with its two Griffin’s, an Archer and a Quickdraw, the centre held by the medium lance of a Phoenix Hawk, an Enforcer, a Vindicator and a Wolverine and the left held by the light Lance with it’s Panther, two Stingers and a Commando. His own Command Lance was in the centre, behind the medium Lance and consisted of two more Phoenix Hawks, a Thunderbolt and his own brand new, shinny Wolfhound.

The Mech had been given to him by Morgan, one of the twelve “Marketers Mechs” that the regiment had received. Katrina Steiner had assigned four of the new Mechs to the Kell Hounds, straight from the TharHes factories on Tharkad, as a sweetener for the “boring” garrison duty they would undertake on Hesperus II. All four were in Dan’s battalion, one was his own, and all three lance commanders in Third Company had one. From what he could gather, all were still up and fighting, elegant testimony to the design.

The Wolfhounds were not the only bonus the Hounds had received, Defiance Industries, getting on the PR bandwagon, had assigned four Hatchetmen to the Hounds, all now in second Battalion, as well as the new stars of the regiment; four new model BNC‐3S Banshee Assault Mechs. These monsters were in a single lance and would form the point of any major assault the regiment made from now on. These new toys had softened the boredom somewhat, until the Marik raiders landed and now they were earning their keep.

Dan’s light lance continued to pull ahead on the left, as the heavies on the right fell behind. If it all went as Dan planned, they would seal off the top of the pass, from west to east all at once, with the lights to the western end. The lights were seven hundred meters ahead when the silhouette of Kyle Danison’s Commando disintegrated in a fire ball as the dust to its left, from the higher ground to the north, lit up. Seconds later, and with cries of distress from their pilots, one of the Stingers lost a leg and the Panther was decapitated by a PPC bolt. The other Stinger’s icon vanished of his scope as seconds later his sensors registered four heavy Mechs coming down the slope, five hundred meters to his left. Oh god, were in trouble. He thought. Two Marauders, a Warhammer and an Orion were bringing their guns to bear on the rest of his company as his sensors showed the Marik lights and mediums only two kilometres away and closing. His own forces were five kilometres behind them and not close enough to provide any sort of assistance in the dusty murk.

“Second Lance move left, command lance on their left and move. Third lance, fire support now!” The two lighter lances of Dan’s reduced command moved north on his command, to avoid getting caught between both Marik forces, as the heavies began raining missiles down on the four Marik Mechs that had ambushed them. The big machines were beginning to retreat uphill as their lighter cousins began streaming up the slope to their rear, firing their PPC’s and other heavy weapons to ensure their compatriots were left unmolested.


55Dan led his command lance up the hill to the enemies own right flank, trying to

get behind the big Mechs and force them to disengage from the other two lances. As he came parallel with their position at the crest of the ridge he was navigating, both Marauders fired their twin PPC’s at his Mech. At the most inopportune moment, as he negotiated the narrow ridge, all four struck, one hitting his cockpit. The last thing he could remember was seeing bright blue and then feeling like he was flying.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Dan awoke three hours later in a hospital bed, sore and battered, but alive and also very ashamed. His first action as a Battalion commander was a disaster. Eleven Mechs down, four pilots dead and only two kills to show for it. Third Battalion would be down for weeks and the rumours about his abilities as a Major would only get worse. Too make matters darker, the Marik units would be picked up a day later and make it out of the system unmolested. The first blows of the war to come had been struck and both sides knew who had drawn first blood.


56Chapter 37 Forbidden City, Sian Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation, 25 July, 3024. Candace waited, she could afford to, the decision had been made. Not that it was an easy decision to make, they never were. However, she was sworn to the future of her line and to the Confederation. In the end, that was all that really mattered, even if it meant her life, or those of any other, no matter how important or insignificant they were. She fingered the ebony box on the table in front of her, it plain edges smooth and cool, with only the latch at the boxes front marring the simple perfection of its construction. She tuned back in to the conversation again, suppressing the small bout of butterflies that flipped her inside her. Calm, utter calm and focus or the Confederation dies today. Candace had kept repeating that phrase to herself all morning. It helped where little else did. Romano was belabouring the point. Nothing new there of course, but it was not the best day for such histrionics, Candace was thoroughly sick of them. Time to bait the little bitch again, just to be sure, to know this was the right decision. “Father” exclaimed Romano “Candace does not need these pets of hers all under her control. She is just a distraction, bait in a trap. Why waste resources on bait. Those new troops should be placed under my command for the true assault into Chesterton, which will bring honour and glory to your name.” You really are pathetic, aren’t you sister? Thought Candace before she responded. “Dear Romano, are your talents as a commander so insignificant, that you cannot use the mass of troops provided to you already to accomplish your goals? You call my attack bait, perhaps it is, but a handful of regiments striking from St. Ives will not attract Davion’s attention. He needs to think I am coming for New Syrtis, otherwise he will not react and neither assault will be successful.” “I am a commander of Liao blood!” Screamed Romano,” By birth I am a leader and great commander. You have no idea of the insights the training of my people provide me. We see all and we see far and I see in your attempts to create a private army a threat that the Confederation cannot bear. Obviously you do not have the skill to orchestrate the attacks assigned to you. I suggest father replace you with someone who has the abilities our troops demand of their generals.” Maximillian, still frail nodded his head, his long moustache wiggling. “Romano speaks many truths Candace and I wish for my new soldiers to be part of the glorious strike into Chesterton. You will assign four of these regiments to Romano and replace them with mercenary troops. Our recruiters have been most successful in gaining the services of several unemployed and newly formed commands.” So that is how it stands is it father, I truly am lost in your eyes? This is a dark day for the Confederation, one I must bring enlightenment to.


57 “You would have me replace troops that have trained for their role for over a year with a pack of half trained Mercs. Davion will see through the ruse and watch the forces mass on Sarna and Tikonov and know where our blow will fall. You will be lucky to get near Chesterton, or any other world for that matter. You throw away every single advantage we have.” Candace voice was raised by the time she finished, her frustration finally beginning to show, frustration built up over a year as her plans were usurped and were now threatened with abject failure. “Daughter” Maximillian said in a flat emotionless voice “Obviously you have lost your faith in your father’s strategic acumen. This is a great disappointment to me and reinforces my need to rely on your sister for advice and support. You will return to Hexare and send four regiments to Sarna, hiring what mercenaries you see fit to replace them. However, Master Yadi will accompany you as an advisor, to ensure the success of your operations. I will not have you jeopardise our plans or those of Pavel and Romano.” Both Pavel Ridzik and Romano looked smugly satisfied at this turn of events, knowing full well that Candace’s humbling fed power to their own positions. Father you now leave me no options. The Confederation must survive. Candace stood, her uniform hugging her tightly, and her hair bound up, both to ensure her movements would not be impeded. “If that is the will of the Chancellor, so be it, I am a loyal servant of the Confederation and will do what I must to serve the greater good of our people.” Maximillian gave her a small smile, acknowledging her humble acceptance of his orders. “There is one thing remaining before I leave father, something I mentioned on arriving here this morning, the gift from your new regiments.” Maximillian’s eyes lit up. “Ah yes, I had nearly forgotten. Please, what is this gift from my great creation?” Candace slid her hand down to the latch of the box, flipping it and opening the dark container as she smiled at Romano, enjoying the fact that her sister was angry about their father’s sudden happiness with Candace. Candace drew from the box the most beautiful firearm she had ever seen, a heavy set pistol with a highly polished platinum finish, hand made by the finest craftsmen of the Confederation. The grip of the weapon was of jade, showing the map of the Confederation at its greatest extents, the banner of the Chancellors Grenadiers, with the homeworlds of each regiment and of Sian picked out on both sides of the grip in precious stones. A golden Liao crest was emblazoned on each side of the barrel, finishing what was a stunning piece of military art. Candace began walking around the table, cradling the gun in both hands, the grip facing towards her father. “This was payed for by your Grenadiers father, in honour of their dedication to the Capellan people and their willingness to let no obstacle stand in the way of the people’s safety.” As Candace passed behind Colonel Ridzik, she quickly shifted the gun into her right had, stoped moving forward and swung her arm out, bringing the gun in line with the back of Rizdik’s skull. She pulled the trigger and the gun leapt in her hand, barking out a great roar as it fired. The Colonels face disappeared is a spray of red mist, as pieces of what had once been the commander of the Capellan forces splattered all over Romano.


58The bullet, travelling downwards smashed through the table and into the floor, wrecking the holo projector and shorting it out. Without any hint of emotion, Candace quickly swung the weapon around to point at her father. However, on the inside she was twisted. Thoughts of what she was about to do screaming at her to stop, but stopping now was not an option. Maximillian had pushed back from the table, his hands still resting on its surface as his eyes looked into Candace’s. “I am sorry father, know always that I love you, I always have and will, but I cannot allow you to destroy our people.” Maximillian said nothing, obviously still shocked by the sudden death of the Colonel. Candace lowered the gun to point at her father’s chest, destroying his face, like she did Rizdik’s, was not something she could bring herself to do. As she began to pull the trigger, she shut her eyes, not wanting to see the effect of her actions on her father’s body. She was also concentrating the on shutting out the screaming in her mind, screaming that was telling her to stop. She did not stop. She fired three times in rapid succession. Her were eyes closed the entire time, an action that nearly killed her. As her eyes opened she heard Romano shriek, catching, in her peripheral vision, a fast moving shape, causing her to duck instinctively. The jade carving clipped her across the top of her head, had it struck true, she could have been knocked unconscious. Pain exploded in her skull as she cursed herself and refocused, the pain giving her something to block out the thought of what she had just done. This one is for pleasure little sister. Romano, having tumbled away from the table as she was hit by the remains of Ridzik, had moved to her feet as Candace shot their father, grabbing at the carvings on the table top and hurling the first of the two she had grabbed just as Candace opened her eyes. The second was cocked and ready and she let fly with it. Candace was ready this time and easily dodged it, razing the gun to cover her sister as she did so. “GUARDS!” shouted Romano, knowing the peril she was in. “They will not come little sister. My own 1st Grenadiers now guard that door. They will not enter until I call or walk out. There is no escape for you. Your madness will end here.” The full enormity of the situation crashed down on Romano as she realised that all her power plays had come to nothing, that all her ambitions would end here and now. “My people will rise up and see you thrown down, the Thuggee will avenge me and bring agonizing death on you and every traitor in the Confederation.” Threats at a time like this, how Romano. “Dearest sibling, the 2nd Grenadiers will make planet fall in two weeks, with every intention of wiping out your little cult before word of your death ever arrives. I needed every spare ship in St. Ives to manage that feat of logistics, but I think you would be surprised at my abilities to organise long range strikes, should you have survived this day.” Romano simply screamed in return. “I will have your soul fed to me in the…the gun roared again. Silence followed. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****


59 Romano and Pavel troubled her conscience not a bit. Her father did. So did the similarities to the death of Richard Cameron, executed with the gift of a firearm by one trusted and dear. I am no Amaris. He acted out of greed, I act for my people. I must act for my people, or I will become Amaris. Now I launch a war, as did the Usurper. I AM NOT AMARIS! Father, I will dedicate the rest of my time to your memory, I will build you a state of which you could be proud so that when I am judged, I will not be seen as a usurper. I will be a builder and protector, a daughter you could respect. Despite these thoughts, Candace knew she would be haunted by her action for the rest of her life, but that was good, she could still feel, she would need to feel so that she did not become disconnected from her people as she took up their leadership. I must never forget why I have done this deed today. Now for the last step. Please see reason. Candace had moved to her fathers office and seated herself there, in its stately opulence, something she knew would have to change. I will need to be seen as the Chancellor of the people, gaudy trappings and glitter will not do. She had sent for her brother, Tormana, who had quietly accompanied her to Sian, without her father’s knowledge. All the eggs in one basket. The door opened and Tormana entered. Not missing a beat, the young man waded straight in. “Enjoying father’s seat Candace. I am sure he will be thrilled at your presumptiveness?” “My seat now Tormana.” Tormana stopped dead in his tracks, shock on his face. Quickly recovering he asked the obvious question. “Your Seat? What of Father and Romano?” “Romano finally flipped, killed father and Senior Colonel Ridzik and was in turn killed by loyal soldiers of the 1st Grenadiers before she could kill me.” “I meant the official story.” “That is the official story. The public one will mention revolutionaries or some such. Do you have a problem with either?” Don’t force my hand little brother, there has been enough bloodshed today. Tormano understood the implicit threat in Candace’s question and became very still. “It seems the official story is an accurate representation of the events that transpired at the palace today.” Good boy. “I expect that I will have your full support as Chancellor of the Capellan people? Also, as a gift to you and a mark of the high honour you have been denied, I would have that your family join me here in the Palace, as befits the Royal family.” Tormana smiled, still sensing the danger. “Oh very clever Candace, hostages and a family renewal, that will play nicely in the media. I have little choice in the matter, all things considered.” “All things best be well considered Tormana, I have plans for our people that I will broke not interference in. It is time for the Capellan people to be given the chance to be what they truly can be, not a downtrodden mass of defeatists.” “So I am to remain here as the court jester, smiling for the functionaries and generally rotting away?”


60 “Hardly. Your talents were always wasted. No more will that be the case. You will leave Sian, once your family arrives, and take direct command of Operations WUHAN and CANTON. I will command SUN TZU. Together we will reforge the Confederation’s glory.” Tormana made a grand bow to his sister. “The Celestial Wisdom’s will be done.” “Don’t ever forget that Tormana.”


61Chapter 38 Taurian Government Complex, Taurus Taurian Concordat 16 August, 3024. Protector Thomas Calderon enjoyed the feel of the warm afternoon sun on his back as he strolled along the white gravelled path. The setting was idyllic, with paths meandering through a naturally sculpted garden full of babbling brooks, quite corners and chattering birds. Unfortunately, today was not the day to enjoy the peaceful gardens, today was a day for business, business with ComStar. Precentor Martel Gordon, the man in charge of ComStar activities on Taurus and within the Concordat at large, walked at the Protectors right, enjoying the garden as much as his host. Both men had spent many hours here, discussing all manner of subjects as, in addition to being men of power, both had developed a friendly relationship over time. However, this did not mean the Protector of the Concordat trusted his amicable companion; the man had once been a ROM officer and was likely still part of that shadow organisation. Should push come to shove, Thomas was sure the man could cause all sorts of trouble. “The conversation has been pleasant so far Martel, but I hardly think you came here to discuss the chances of the Taurian Bulls against the Coventry Cavaliers in Saturday’s preliminary final, much as I will be glued to your organisations reports of the match. I am sure you have more urgent matters? I know I have many to deal with, especially with the integration of the colonies still underway.” Thomas referred to the campaign, still in progress, to bring order to the mad colonisation scheme that his predecessor had started. Those half baked colonists, still claiming Taurian citizenship, had flung themselves far and wide. Suddenly, like flies to rotting meat, pirates had started to prey on the colonists and then on the bigger prize of the Concordat itself. The only way to bring order was to take the colonists freedom and crush any pirates that attacked the newly won and garrisoned worlds of the Concordat.

Normally, he would not have sent so many military resources from the Davion border, those troops were the Taurians insurance policy, but in this instance, as his advisors had pointed out, the new colonies would give the Concordat strategic depth against Hanse Davion’s inevitable assault, something the Taurians desperately needed.

Martel, his long arms behind his back, mimicking the Protector’s stance, got to the point. “No, I have not come here to discuss sports; I have a matter of mutual interest to discuss.”

Mutual from ComStar? Hardly. Thought The Protector. “What is this mutual interest Martel? Invest in ComStar, attack a few Pirates?” Martel smiled; something he rarely did. “An opportunity for certain historic territories to be returned to their homelands.” The Protector’s heart missed a beat. What is going on here? Davion can’t be that weak? The Confederation holds only Rollis and any others are half abandoned worlds. He fenced. “Would these territories have been formerly considered part of the Periphery?’


62 Martel seemed lost in the study of a hummingbird that was flitting about near the path and answered in a vague voice. “Perhaps. Then all worlds at some point have been part of the Periphery. Of course these worlds are of a more recent vintage, if, that is, you consider Darlan Okumbe of recent vintage.” Okumbe, hah. Okumbe was the finest Taurian sculptor of the 26th Century, his masterpieces adorning many of the grandest buildings of the Concordat. “The Concordat is always willing to support the desires for freedom or repatriation of any realm’s lost sons, we do not however, throw ourselves lightly upon such endeavours. There’s an understatement. The TDF could, in no way imaginable, hope to take worlds away from the Federated Suns. Martel managed to tear himself away from the hummingbird for a moment to look at the Protector. “ComStar has long respected the Taurian view of the universe and would never desire to bring harm upon the realm. We would however, urge the Taurian people to be ready to take advantage of opportunities as they arise.” The Protector held his tongue for a moment as they walked along, thinking hard. So the rumours my people bring me about the Capellans is true, and that means the other rumours of this triple alliance must also be true. Could ComStar be so transparent? Perhaps this grand attack on the Suns is what my people need to reclaim those many worlds lost so long ago? Still, no need to tip my hand yet. Let us see how important this really is to ComStar.

“You must understand Martel, that the governing of a realm so vast and sparsely settled as the Concordat, has certain challenges attending its proper government. Communications for one. Many units are tied up in the colonies, and without adequate communication, I find myself thinking only of the difficulties inherent in the actions required for the rapid exploitation of the vagaries of interstellar chance. I see no way to rapidly communicate with the people I would require to, should such action be ever contemplated.” Martel made a slight bow of his head as he answered. “My dear Protector, the Primus had thought just such problems may arise. She has also stated, to me personally, her distress at the deplorable state of interstellar communications in the major Periphery realms. She believes deeply in our Orders role in bringing illumination to the furthest reaches of space and would support any Taurian endeavours to assist in making such noble sentiments real.” So, ComStar is willing to build me as many HPG’s as I need. Faster communications means better logistics and military coordination. Trade will increase and I can integrate the outer colonies faster, getting the troops back to the Davion border sooner than anticipated. The danger is still great, but the opportunities. Davion humbled and our realm restored. I will be remembered as the Protector who brought the Concordat out of the dark ages. Time to put a caveat on this little deal. “The Concordat would be eternally grateful to the Primus’s vision and the Office of the Protector can provide details as to where illumination could best be sought. However, the Concordat cannot and will not promise to run after shadows and half


63chances. We are not a rash people and therefore will require an unequivocal sign that fate has smiled, or we shall stay on our worlds and let the fates be dammed.” Martel stopped, and faced the Protector. “The signs will be unequivocal, of that you can be sure.”


64Chapter 39 Laverack Barracks, Townsville District, Australia, Coventry Province, Lyran Commonwealth, 19 September, 3024.

The officer stood waiting for the passenger airlock of the DropShip to open onto his exile. By looking at the man, you would not think he was going into exile, he was turned out immaculately. His Lyran dress uniform was more resplendent than a Versailles wedding and almost as gaudy. Decoration and brocade streamed from his dark blue, high collard jacket and the creases in his white stirrup, blue stripped dark pants, looked as though they had been pressed by the foot of a Mech. To add to the overall effect, was the supremely haughty and contemptuous look, no doubt honed be years of practice, which hammered any crewman who had the poor graces to enter the officer’s line of view.

The man stood as still as a mountain and appeared as immoveable, radiating an air of such contempt and hate, that it seemed likely that the airlock would melt from the force. Exile. He thought. I do not deserve this. I have been wronged. Despite what he thought about the situation, the young officer, at least according to the Lyran military elite, did deserve his punishment, he deserved his exile and so much more. He was now The Liaison Officer. The title in itself seemed so innocuous, yet within the circle of Lyran officers, the position was known as the end of careers, the place no one spoke of, a dark and final exile.

Two months ago the young officer, not yet twenty seven and already a Hauptmann‐Kommandant, had been attending a social occasion on Duran, at the behest of the world’s Duke. A young woman, seeming to be of backwoods ancestry and no match for his own proud line, had been most persistent in her advances toward the dashing officer from the 6th Lyran Guards. However, following several stiff drinks and what seemed like hours of pestering by the young lady, the officer was forced, in a way which could never be considered kind or gentlemanly, to tell the young woman exactly what he thought of her, in order to be rid of her and have the chance to talk to far more promising social connections at the function. That was his first mistake.

Twenty minuets later, Kommandant‐General Sharon Hellman, commander of the LCAF’s Reserve Corps, had the young officer up against the wall enduring the chewing out of his career. The General’s daughter, heiress to the Hellman fortune, was a wreck, distraught at the rough handling the young officer had given her.

His excuse was his second mistake. Telling the General that he thought her daughter was nothing more than backwoods hickery and that if he had known she was of decent stock he would never had treated her in such a way, only served to make the situation worse. The General had made it clear, he would serve as The Liaison Officer, for his offence, she would see to it. The General had been as good as her word. Banished from the 6th and demoted to Hauptmann, the traditional rank of The Liaison Officer, the young man was now on Australia. Hell on earth for Lyran Officers.


65The young man went over the limited briefing material he had been given in his

mind. Australia, settled 2301 by colonists from the Terran Australia continent and the South Pacific Islands. Declined initial membership into the Commonwealth in 2341, but became and ‘associate member’ in 2365. Resisted, along with 20 other strong worlds, the efforts of Archon Robert Marsden, but capitulated as long as their associate status remained and with it certain privileges for the world. This fact kept the world off the official maps of the Commonwealth until the founding of the Star League forced the world to become a full member of the Commonwealth. Due to the privileges accorded the world, it was shunned by the Lyran nobility, due to not only the advantages it enjoyed but also its representatives and nobilities constant complaining about Tharkad’s ineptitude in nearly all fields and their complete lack of regard for proper noble behaviour. Outright bribery on the part of the locals, due to their natural resources and productive industry, as well as their strong military forces, saw one of the Lyran stock exchanges placed on the world.

It was the world’s military which was the real problem however, having a well developed sense of contempt for anything Lyran. The young officer could not understand it, the world was given an honoured position in the Commonwealth and the soldiers of the planet were given the honor of serving in the LCAF, however, they seemed to treat the LCAF, and the Commonwealth as a whole, as a burden to be sneered at and derided. The legendary unruliness of the soldiers from this world and their habit of disregarding commands from LCAF officers, often without even reading them, had seen the LCAF officer Corps establish the position of The Liaison Officer.

This was the place for the socially disgraced to be sent, where they could be forgotten and left in the hell which every Lyran officer dreaded. It was bad enough when The Liaison Officer only had to work with the local militia brigades, who had the audacity to decline their official Lyran titles and call themselves by their own names and designations. Just who did they think they were? Australian Light Horse! What a joke. However, the position the young officer had been exiled to was now an even more painful position. The previous year, the worst offenders in the militia, along with insubordinate, ex‐LCAF Australian MechWarriors, had formed a mercenary command called the Blacknovas. Now he was liaison to both. Suicide seemed a good option at this point. Many had used it before. He could see why.

As he waited away the interminable minutes, wishing to leave this DropShip full of idiots, but dreading the mass of fools awaiting him, he did not move a muscle. He would remain a Lyran officer to the bitter end if needs be. “Oi.” Shouted a voice. “I’d wait for the transport if I were you.” A scruffy looking crewman yelled across the room as he entered.

He merely stared at the man with the same look of contempt he had given the airlock. “It’s 38 degrees out there straight up. Probably half again that with the tarmac and engine heat. Best wait inside mate, unless you want end up in the wards with heat exhaustion.”

He looked away from the man back to the airlock. Crewmen who did not salute or address their betters correctly, did not deserve either response or acknowledgement. “Suit yourself Peacock!” the crewman said as he punched the button that cycled the lock


66open. The young officer began walking out of the DropShip, ignoring the verbal barb and moving out into the open, with the DropShips cool air surrounding him. Then it him.

The air was like a wall of heat, more intense than when his Zeus had nearly shut down on Carse. It was physical, and it was not just the heat. The world’s sun was reflecting off the white tarmac like the flash of a nuclear detonation, his eyes watered from it, blurring again and again, despite his attempts to blink them clear. Within moments, his uniform felt like plate armour, heavy, hot and draining the fluid from him as fast as his body could produce it. And the noise! The winding down of the DropShip engines was bad enough, but the sounds coming from the open woodland off the edge of the tarmac and behind the chain‐link fence was incredible. It sounded like every insect in the Inner Sphere was baying for blood in that wood, all at once. The physical assault on his senses was worse than combat, that he had been trained to deal with. This, this reception, this was truly the gateway to hell itself. A no more fitting way to arrive at the end of his career could he have dreamed of himself in his darkest moments.

In the shimmering distance, he could just make out the shape of a vehicle and hoped against all hope that the vehicle was coming to get him. My kingdom for a cooling vest. He thought, as he remained ramrod straight, his pride not to be sullied despite his now apparently mad choice of leaving the DropShip. The shimmering shape slowly approached as wave after belting wave of heat and sound washed over him, every moment threatening to be the one to drive him back into the DropShip. He could feel rivers of sweat pouring off his body, soaking his pristine uniform and ruining his carefully crafted look. That was the worst thought of all, and the one though which nearly sent him back into the cool confines of the DropShip behind him.

Eventually the small four wheeled, camouflage painted, jeep type vehicle pulled up with a screech in front of the young officer. From the drivers side, on the right of the vehicle, jumped the scruffiest looking driver the young officer had ever seen. The man’s camouflage fatigues looked as though they had never seen the Regimental laundry, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone undone, the back of the shirt hanging out of his pants and his slouch hat looked as though it had been molested by an angry tank. Placing the hat rapidly on his head, the driver moved quickly around the vehicle looking more battered than a party crashing Locust at an Atlas convention. The driver scurried around the vehicle and made straight for the Officer’s carry bag. “Jesus. What the bloody hell are doing out here? Get in the truck before you collapse!”

The young officer remained at attention, glaring at the driver. “You will salute superior officers, before asking permission to address them in such familiar ways.” He barked, appalled at not only the driver’s lack of uniform discipline, but also his general lack of regard for the officer’s rank.

The young driver stopped, dropped the bag a looked at the officer. “Right then, your one of those are you? Here.” He threw the most rudimentary of salutes, one which more or less resembled an attempt to swat a fly, of which there seemed to be many present, then the respect due a superior officer. He then grabbed the bag and moved away before the officer could say anything. “Best get in the car, you’re startin to look like a melted wedding cake.”


67Normally the young officer would have given the man a massive dressing down

and demanded a proper salute, but the heat was now unbearable, and weakness in the form a slumping to his knees would not do. The officer moved to the door, which of course was not held open for him, opened it and climbed into the blessedly cool interior which, despite its utilitarian fit, was as comfortable as a Ducal suite, as far as the overheating officer was concerned.

The car suddenly accelerated, tossing the officer into his seat as the young driver seemed to be trying to do his level best to crack the land speed record before the jeep had left the tarmac. The young man looked over his shoulder, oblivious to what was in front of the careening vehicle. “You Peacocks are all the same arn’t you mate, more balls than brains? What ever possessed you to wait outside today?”

The officer ignored the question with one of his own. His voice was slow and measured, containing just the right tone of condescension which one used when talking down to inferiors. “This peacock term I have heard used, what does it mean?”

The driver laughed, causing the jeep to swerve a little as it passed close to a massive Chippewa Aerofighter parked on the edge of the field. “Peacock! That’s what we call all you Lyran pretty boys they keep sending us. You lot all arrive looking more gussied up than a Brisbane whore on New Years. Honestly, where do you get the time to put all that junk on? You bunch need to learn that all that glittery crap’s about as useful as a paper bag when the figtin starts.”

“THIS, is the uniform of an officer of the Lyran Commonwealth Armed Forces, worn according to regulations, something you would best learn to emulate. I will have no hesitation of reporting you to your superiors when I meet them shortly.”

The driver smiled into the mirror as he threw the jeep into a hard right turn onto a road that lead to what appeared to be an extensive base facility. “Sweet. I look forwards to it. Can you make sure you note the time you said that on the report.” He checked the clock on the dash. “12:14 local. You just won me $150 from the boys.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Five minutes of frosty stand off later, the jeep came to a screeching halt in front of a small compound, with single story huts lining three sides. The flag poles in the centre held the Blacknovas, Australian, and Light Horse standards. The flagpoles were accessed by two paths, one leading from where the jeep had stopped to the building on the opposite side of the compound and the other crossing the compound from the doors to the other two buildings and meeting the fist path at the flag poles. Awful looking, scrubby, native vegetation was planted along the fronts of each of the buildings and was doing its level worst, in the officer’s opinion, to look like a garden. The long, low buildings did not inspire much appreciation either, being dark in colour with grey roofs and white trimmed windows and doors. This ungodly place is worse than a Tamar slum. The young officer now knew for certain that he was at the end of the universe. Nevertheless, he would show no weakness and would present himself as a Lyran officer was expected.


68 “Here you are. CO’s in the building straight ahead.” The driver made no move to get the officers bag or door, forcing him to do both himself. He had hardly closed the door when the jeep was off again, hurtling away down the road into the base’s interior. Straightening himself, he swapped the bag to his left hand, turned on his heel to the left and began walking in a measures stride towards the main entrance to the central building, all the while being assaulted by the heat. Halfway between the flagpoles and the building he had been directed to, a soldier, or sergeant to be more exact, materialised in front of him. “You new here?” Again no salute and the height of rudeness. The officer, obviously becoming delirious from the heat, decided to answer. “Of course.” “Your one of those Lyran types aren’t you?” “So it would appear.” “S’pose your pretty well of then?” “What do you mean?” “Well off. Like wealthy, y’know?” “I could be considered well off.” “Can you spot us a twenty then?” “Excuse me?” “Can you spot me a twenty? Twenty Kroner? We’re all heading out tonight and I’m a bit short. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow after pays and all.” The young officer snapped.

“THE LCAF IS NOT A CHARITY! I will not loan money to a senior non‐commissioned officer whose lack of financial restraint prevents him from socialising. You will report yourself to your commanding officer this minute.” The sergeant looked at the young officer directly, stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “No would covered it you tight Lyran basted.”

Before the officer could respond, the sergeant turned and meandered away to a group of non‐coms gathered at the door of the building to the left, who were snickering and looking at the officer in ways that ranged from mild pity to outright contempt. Squaring his shoulders, he turned away and moved into the building, planning on discussing the appalling situation with his superiors.

The corridor he entered was wonderfully cool and led him to a cross corridor with a sign pointing to the left which announced “Commanding Officer”. He turned down the white painted corridor, passing closed office doors to his right and left until he stood facing an open, dark wood panelled door with Lt. General Michael Monash stencilled on it. Entering the room in question he saw an aide sitting behind a simple desk, pushed up hard against the left wall. The tiny anteroom led into a larger room directly ahead.

Appraising the aide, who seemed somewhat more presentable than anyone he had seen so far, despite being well under LCAF standards, the young officer announced himself. “Karl von Prussen for Leutnant‐General Monash.”

The aide, a Kommandant by his rank pip, did not even look up. “No Lootnant Geneerarrls here. There is a Lieutenant General if you want to see him though?”


69Swallowing his pride Karl replied. “As you wish, the Lieutenant General will do.” The Kommandant looked up. “Will he now. Go straight in, he’s been waiting for

you.” Karl walked straight past the man without another look, becoming more and

more angered by the utter contempt that was being shown by these people. On entering the office, he came to full attention, saluted in precise Lyran fashion and announced himself. “Karl von Prussen, reporting for duty as LCAF liaison to the Australian Militia and Blacknovas mercenary command.”

The last words nearly faltered as he saw his commanding officer. The man was somewhere between stout and portly and wore undress fatigues, like some common soldier. He had short dark hair and moustache and was longing against the window on the rooms left, looking out into the courtyard where the flagpoles were. The office was not much better, cluttered and scruffy with little to distinguish it as the office of a senior officer.

“I see you failed the sergeant’s test?” Taken aback by the question, Karl could only manage “What test, Herr General.” “My point exactly.” Responded General Monash. He turned from the window

and approached Karl, who was still saluting and extended his hand. After a moment, Karl dropped his salute and shook the General’s hand. “I do hope you learn the ropes a bit faster then that while your hear Captain Prussen.” The General released his hand and offered Karl a seat under the window, sitting himself on the chair opposite.

“I will endeavour to do so Herr General, as I do with all my commands. I must however point out that my Lyran rank is Hauptman‐Kom…I mean Hauptman von Prussen.”

The General gave him a hard and level stare. “Whilst you are here, you’ll find yourself lucky to get Captain Prussen. I’d suggest you let the matter drop. It’s really not worth your effort.”

Karl paused for a moment before answering. “As you direct Herr General.” “And drop the Herr General.” “Yes…sir.” The General looked at Karl in a manner that made him feel like he was a carcass

on display. “Colonel Melhuish of the Blacknovas will be here shortly, you will be travelling with him over the next few months, so I suggest you spend some time with him. He has a…unique sense of humour, very much an acquired taste, so try not to take anything he says to seriously.” Karl nodded as the General handed him an official LCAF mobilisation notice. “Best bring yourself up to speed by reading that.”

Karl looked down at the yellow note and began reading. Blacknovas Mercenary Regiment in cooperation with two Australian Militia Brigades (to be nominated by Militia Command) is to embark immediately for Tamar. Recent movements in the Rasalhague District are of potential cause for concern and the nominated formations are directed to conduct reconnaissance raiding and assaults on worlds yet to be determined by Tamar Theatre Command. This deployment will also test LCAF plans for rapid deployment of reserve forces to the front.


70Karl looked up, ignoring the rest of the message. “Why this command Sir? The

1st and 2nd Royals could just as well undertake it?” The General smiled. “Because we’re the best at this sort of Dragon Baiting and

old Kat wants us to put Defiance’s new Banshee’s and Hatchetmen through their paces.” Karl was aghast, firstly at referring to Archon Katrina Steiner as Kat, and secondly

that such poorly regarded militia formations and mercenaries would have access to the latest of the LCAF’s weaponry.

“Don’t look so shocked lad, we’ve been breaking Defiance’s toys for them for years now. Once we stop being able to break them, Defiance considers them ready. It also gives Iggy, Colonel Melhuish, a chance to see if you’re as hot a Mechjock as your file says you are. That, plus the chance for the Blacknovas to blood themselves at the Dragon’s expense.”


71Chapter 40 Sandhurst Royal Military Academy, England, Terra 25 October, 3024.

Precentor Martial Hamilton stared at the holoscreen in his offices alcove as he waited for the game to begin. The quarter‐finals of the Rugby World Cup were on and the teams competing in the night’s game were going to produce a titanic clash. The ComStar Whites were taking on the Terran XV in the home town clash of clashes. The talk over the last month, since ComStar downed the Marlette Marlins 26‐3 and the Terrans dispatched the Outworlds Aces 51‐30, was that the Terrans were no hopers, coming off several lucky wins against weak opponents. The Precentor Martial thought otherwise, seeing in the Terrans a rapidly improving side, playing an innovative game that was finding it easier and easier to pull apart opposition defences as the tournament progressed. He had 100 C‐Bills on the game with Precentor Naval, who had represented ComStar in his younger days. I wonder what Precentor Waterly will think of my backing of the Terran team over ComStar? Nothing like another black mark. In addition to that bet, the looser would wear the uniform of the other service branch for a week. Not something to be taken lightly.

The most sought after trophy in sport since the Amaris Coup, the Rugby World Cup was the only remaining worldwide trophy from Terra’s pre‐spaceflight days, the other remaining trophies being vaporised in by Rim Worlds attacks on Earth. Luckily for Rugby, the World Cup was touring the Inner Sphere during the Coup, and survived to become the most sought after piece of sporting silverware in existence.

Pat, Precentor Naval Neville and his aide, Precentor Julia Brighton would all arrive shortly, all as intent as Angus on seeing the game and having a good time whilst doing so. Orders were out that the room was to be disturbed for nothing short of a new Succession War and that if Kerensky returned, he was welcome to watch the game. As long as he kept his mouth shut.

Tonight would also prove a good occasion to go over their growing plans for the future, plans that both naval Precentors were now part of. Angus thought back to the conversation that had initially broached the subject of ROMULUS and REMUS with Neville. One and a half hours to steer the conversation in the right direction, one hour to drop the hints, another hour to see if he picked up on them and two more to get it all straight for the Naval man. Who ever said that the senior service was for deep thinkers over shot a little. Despite his slow initial uptake on the subject, Precentor Naval had been readily able to see the writing on the wall for the Order’s and Terra’s future. Maintenance of fleet security and control by Precentor Naval would be absurdly easy. Long compartmented away from the rest of the Order, the Naval arm was almost a world to itself, devoted to its people and traditions.

The Precentor Martial thought to himself about tonight and the match and then thought about the thousands of ComGuard personnel, stuck on transports, heading out into the Free Worlds League and Capellan Confederation who would not see it live.


72Although no ship had yet left Terra, Ross or Lyuten, they were at or near to loading or already heading for the Jump points. Units were leaving earlier than planned as the Steiner and Davion realms seemed to be catching on and the Kapteyn powers were becoming nervous. Is the cat out of the bag or not? It would not matter either way in the end, too many forces were now in motion to stop and the blows would fall as planned. The Precentor Martial’s own planning would continue, now at a more accelerated rate as plans were modified and contingencies acted upon as needed.

Rumours from Andurien concerned him the most. Few Andurien troops were involved in the Free Worlds operations and they represented a wild card on an under‐defended Capellan border, a border soon to be garrisoned by a thin line of disguised ComStar troops, masquerading as mercenaries. Should the Andurians throw off the shackles and strike, two whole CBG’s would be strung out facing the anger of five full Andurien task forces.

That the attack itself would be devastating to ComGuard forces was enough, but in addition an interdiction would be called and the Confederation would have to strike back, weakening the Suns front and crashing the whole offensive. The Precentor Martial had an idea, wether or not it would work was beyond him, but an additional CBG or two near Prix, all saddled up and ready to respond may well be the answer. He would write the orders and see it done, he needed to. That front had to hold until 3027, and then it could go its own merry way to hell as his soldiers came home.

Then there was the Periphery to worry about. What has gotten into the Rim lately? Every tin pot dictator and man with a gun was out attacking pirates, or each other, and demanding and more extraordinarily getting, whatever it was they wanted from an Inner Sphere keen to keep them out of Inner Sphere business. Oberon had set the bar, seemingly exhorting or stealing whatever it wanted from the Lyrans as it built its little empire. What the Lyrans were actually getting from the deal was hard to see. Oberon was no real threat to the Lyran state. Maybe Katrina’s becoming a little paranoid as she ages. We all seem to.

Canopus, Taurus and the Outworlds were engaged in an overt show of brotherly love, but there was something else at work there, they all hated the Inner Sphere too much to truly knuckle under for the greater good. Avellar was ever the dutiful one with Calderon seeming to pretend his paranoia was a thing of the past; the Magestrix was, on the other hand, playing true to form, demanding and domineering from start to finish.

Then there was the Primus. That one should have been left to the wolves at birth. Waterly was not yet suspicious of Hamilton’s moves, but the time would come when his hand, though not revealed, would become discernable. All manner of contingencies were in place for ROMULUS and REMUS, but the fact of the matter was that anything could happen from now until they were enacted and no one, not even Hamilton, had any idea of how the universe would play out over the next few years.

Angus decided that the best thing was to stop thinking and focus on the team sheets now being displayed for the night’s game. He sat back, sipping from his beer as he heard the noise of the others coming up the hallway to join him.


73Chapter 41 The Grimm Palace, Oberon VI Butte District, Oberon Confederation 3 September, 3024.

Prince Hendrik of Oberon, one day to be, hopefully, King Hendrik IV of Oberon, was bored. No, that did not quite grasp it, he was actually bored out of his mind. Not that there was nothing to do right now; He was practically co‐ruler of a nation struggling with the integration of many new worlds; the Director of an ever expanding industrial base; and responsible for a line up of foreign diplomats, all of whom wished to kiss his royal ass. These were all challenging aspects of a challenging career, one that, in its rapid rise, could only be considered meteoric. Challenges of industry, trade and diplomacy were all well and good, and young Hendrik understood their critical nature to the future of his own power. However, they were not war. War made his soul sing. For nearly eighteen months, at the head of the 1st Guards, Hendrik had done what no other leader in the region had for centuries, he had brought war, but more importantly, successful war, to the coreward regions. Hendricks’s War, as he liked to call it, but to his annoyance others were referring to as the Pirate’s War or, The Oberon Expansion, had burst forth in early 3023 upon his families long time rivals of Butte Hold, Star’s End and the Greater Valkyrate. One thing was different this time though; Oberon had a proper industrial base. That base, set up to support the military, was one of the benefits of his Lyran education. He had seen what the Lyrans could build when on Tharkad, and he wanted the same for his state. With the easily accessed resources of his father’s financial estate, and the business acumen of a starving prostitute, he sold his vision to Lyran industrialists, and though at times he felt rather dirty, he got what he needed – heavy industry, supporting the beginnings of a military industrial complex. Then he swindled the swindlers. That was fun. The looks on the faces of the Quickscell Industries executives was priceless. He actually had had stills from the rooms security file taken, sharpened, enlarged and placed on his office wall. That image usually brought those seeking an audience up fairly short and was the reason, at least in the Prince’s mind, that Olivetti Weaponry never got out of line during negotiations over their own investments.

Hendrik had genuinely believed that Quickscell was the best fit for the small, but rapidly growing Confederation; the company was not stuck in a rut of procedure and could rapidly adapt to new situations. However true that may have been, the case remained that Quickscell did not take his advice and provide better quality control for their armoured vehicles. When Galleon and Scorpion tanks started falling apart in combat, if they ever made it there at all, the young Prince was forced to take action. It was an action to not only provide his new Oberon Cavaliers tank formations with tools that actually worked, but to make sure his plan was seen to function properly by his ever suspicious father. Had


74Quickscell continued as they were, his plans would have died along with their executives, when his father’s patience ran out.

The plan had taken him ten years to get started, or a least the military part had, the previous ten years before that being used to turn large parts of the Black Canyon and Dao Sing regions into industrial areas. Those new industrial areas, financed by some of the most disreputable, but also wealthiest, of the Lyran’s Merchant guilds, were to provide the solid foundation of a diversified civilian economy, as well as the basis for a support structure for a military industrial complex.

The deals he had wrought with the Lyrans were going to be a burden for many years, made with men who wished to avoid even the light hand of Tharkad in their business dealings. It was a problem he knew he would need a solution to. And Quickscell had provided the answer and the example to the others.

Quickscell had been more than willing to jump on the Oberon industrial bandwagon, as long as there was little oversight, good money and a chance to live life to the fullest for those posted to the new facility. Over a battalion of light tanks and enough APC’s to outfit 2 infantry battalions rolled off the lines every six months, so that within a year and a half of opening, three of Hendrik’s new Oberon Cavalier units were in the field. It was not all wine and roses though, as the new formations were never at more than 60‐70% readiness, and units on operational deployment had suffered combat losses 30% over norms.

His father had stated his misgivings at that point, with those misgivings forcing Hendrik to see the chance of his plan’s failure. The Quickscell Executives were called in by Hendrik, presented with the evidence of the continued failure and told to get out of the Confederation within a week. Hendrik, on his father’s authority, seized the facilities, renamed them Red Eye Heavy Industries, and tried to sort the mess out. Quickscell, of course, complained to the Lyran Government, who of course were happy to see Quickscell get what they deserved for many years of shoddy merchandise. The problem remained though, who to get to run the facility, and who would now help the Confederation with BattleMech facilities.

That’s where Olivetti Weaponry came in. They hated Quickscell, for some reason or other, the reason was not important, the hate was. Olivetti wanted to take a 40% stake in Red Eye, along with other benifits, and Hendrik was happy with that, as long as they assisted Oberon with the construction of Mech facilities. The project to get ‘Mech facilities on line was a nightmare, one which nearly undid all of Hendrik’s work. Almost, but not quite. There was just enough capacity in the new civilian sector to support the facility, but civilian industry was set back five years, only passing its old output in 3023.

But that was what clinched his campaign – The tanks flowing from Oberon and later Elissa, as well as the Locusts, Wolverines and Riflemen that Olivetti produced. Not all the Mechs went into Grimm’s armies, many were sold by Olivetti on the open market to recoup losses, but the fact remained that both Oberon and Olivetti benefited from a mutual disdain for Quickscell and were getting profit of that dislike.

So with these nice new toys, Hendrik went to his father in late 3022 and asked where he would like to holiday, Gotterdammerung, Butte Hold or Star’s End? His father


75laughed, told his son to choose and to take what he could. Two weeks later, he showed his father the plan for Operation CYCLOPS. Hendrik planned to unite the coreward worlds in 2 years and then strike out for the Chainlaine Isles. At the end of that time his father would have the same standing as the other great Periphery leaders. Although at first hesitant, the old man came through, seeing the chance for some serious personal gratification and approved the plan, in the process promoting Hendrik to General. It was then time for his son’s true calling.

That bastard Redjack Ryan never knew what hit him. In 3023, two battle groups left Oberon, one for Butte Hold and Star’s End, and one to crush the Bitch of Gotterdammerung. The training, stringently enforced by Hendrik, which both the Oberon Guards and the new Oberon Cavaliers had undertaken for the past two years, payed off. Using years of experience operating as pirates, as well as fighting them, the Oberon forces new all of Ryan’s tricks. Ryan was wiped out and Maria Morgraine was not far behind her lover in going to hell.

Star’s End was another matter. Despite having ex‐spacers from the Star’s End crew to guide his forces in, he still faced the battle of his career. However, once he had a proper foothold on the main Pirate base, and had broken the back of the Star’s End Mech units, the lads running Star’s End saw that they could either die or surrender. It was traditional at this point to execute pirate commanders, but instead Hendrik promoted the Star’s End pilots to officer ranks and attached their remaining aero units to his own Guards. There were grumblings in the ranks, but it worked. It also restored the bare minimum of air cover Grimm needed, air cover that the Star’s End Flyers had been more than successful in denuding during that hard fight. Plus, the chance to live was a wonderful motivator for the newly promoted pilots. Star’s End also netted Oberon the shipyard facilities that had long provided Star’s End with extra capital.

And so the campaign went on, Von Strang’s World and the rest of the Valkyrate and then onto the Chainlaine Isles. That’s when the Regulators showed up. Strange lot those people, but effective at what they did. Their employment had added the extra punch that was needed to bring what could have been a long drawn out campaign to a swift end. The campaign for Chainlaine was a logistical nightmare, one that taught Hendrik several important lessons, but in the end, noble house, bickering whilst they fought Oberon, were no match for a now experienced and well led army.

Just towards the end of that campaign, his father sent word from Oberon of an interesting deal, resented by an unlikely benefactor. Hendrik made quick pace to Oberon and was astounded at what was offered. All it would cost were a few design specification and some mercenaries that were not required now that the Chainlaine Campaign was nearly over.

There had to be a catch somewhere, but he still could not see it, the temporary loss of a couple of unnecessary merc units for a great bounty, however flawed that bounty was. His engineers and technicians were already complaining about the holes in the information, but they said they could fix them and improve on the basic components. So Hendrik advised his father to take the deal, take it and run with it.


76As he leaned back, gazing at some of the information the trade had passed on, he

though deeply to himself, about where to go now? Some suggested taking over from his father, but he was not keen on that idea, as they had developed a good, if not warm, working relationship and his time would come as it was. He had no real option for war, unless he went mad and took on the Lyrans or Kuritans, something he would only consider should one or the other undertake a major campaign. Despite that, he was getting rich of Lyran investment, so why rock that boat. There was still Santander and that blood soaked animal Helmar Valesek to deal with, but he would make sure that hammer fell with precision and power.

All in all, it seemed that he was going to have to get used to quite life for a while, not something he really wanted, but something that appeared to be the fact of life for the next few years. Maybe it was high time to find a wife? He’d have to look into that, as he was probably the most eligible bachelor this side of Tamar these days. There was an idea – dowry. What could a new bride bring to Oberon? That got him thinking deeply on the subject.


77Chapter 42 Littleton Retreat, Alphard, Marian Hegemony 4 November, 3024.

Caesar Sean O’Reilly, successor to the recently late Marius O’Reilly, stood on the

deck of Littleton House, staring across Twofold Bay and its idyllic surrounds, long the private estate of the O’Reilly family. Sean had always enjoyed this place, a location that was often the front piece of Marian tourism brochures, but one where tourists were sure to be shot on site. The house sat at the end of a long bay, facing north, its wide and deep verandahs framed by the thick local vegetation.

Sean was in a slightly pensive mood, his youthful face tight with small worry lines, which made his dark eyes appear darker and caused his otherwise handsome face, with its longish brown hair, to take on a menacing appearance. Where is Carson? He thought. Carson, or Julia Carson, was his most important advisor. Not more than a sometimes advisor to his father, Carson was the person responsible for saving the Marian line on Logan Prime when his father was killed. Had she not rallied the First and Second Legions to her call, the ORCA forces would have ended both formations as viable combat units, therefore allowing them to have been waiting for his own Third Legion upon his own landing.

That had to have been his less than stable father’s worst moment. Up to that point, Sean was forced to admit to admit, the old boy had been doing well. Industry and trade in the Hegemony were booming and several worlds settled by Marian colonists were officially brought into the fold. Old Marius had even managed to take and hold Niops, much to the pleasure of the long oppressed masses. The Hegemony did not have the freedoms of realms like the Free Worlds League, but it was a virtual paradise of liberal ideals when compared to the old Niopian system.

No fact had demonstrated the regular Niopians support of the Marian regime

more, than the 2nd Atrean Hussars disastrous attack on the world in support of the

Lothian/Illyrian/Circinian alliance, known as ORCA. The 2nd Atrean Hussars had expected an

easy first combat assignment, underestimating their opponents severely. Unknown to outsiders, the Marian attack on Niops had freed the long suffering underclass of Niopian society. Taking advantage of this, the now dead Marius O’Reilly had begun arming the population and turning Niops into an fortified camp. The old boy planned to protect his valuable new acquisition, with a large local and fanatical militia being the easiest way to do it. This freed up Marian offensive forces for use against ORCA and kept the few unruly Niopian ex‐rulers as a well controlled minority. However, the remains of the previous Niopian ruler’s clique did come out to play eventually, fielding a surprisingly strong underground force.

The training of the Atrean Hussar’s pilots got the invasion force through to its meeting point with the rebel forces on planet, further adding to the Hussars low regard for their opponents. On the ground, the League units and their new allies were horribly


78outnumbered and the green troops of the FLWM unit lacked the seasoning to take the fight to the defenders. After just 19 days, the League forces, little more than 2 companies of Mechs and two mixed infantry/armour Battalions, abandoned Niops under the cover of their fighters and jumped back to Romita. Suffice to say the massacre of the Niopian Rebels who supported the Hussars during the battle by the Marian Militia was bloody, brutal and effective.

Following the acquisition of Niops, old Marius saw the greater prize of Lothia and Illyria as there for the taking. The initial plan would have worked, but for three problems; Marius’s arrogance in thinking he had enough forces to win without reinforcement, and therefore not waiting for Sean and Legio III to join up with the main battle group; the lack of good intelligence on the ORCA alliance, which secretly included the Canopians and was supported by the Free Worlds; and Captain Manuel Todor, who led the Lothian Commandos in their attack on the Marian HQ on Logan Prime.

Logan Prime was where the late Caesar planned to break the armies of Lothia and Illyria, after which he could absorb their states and greatly increase the strength of the Hegemony. Hadn’t planned for Dame Logan though, had you father? Thought Sean. He had been thoroughly impressed by the Lothian leader’s diplomatic abilities, as had everyone. Just prior to Marian forces grounding on Logan Prime, Dame Logan had managed to get Circinus and Canopus to put pen to paper and join the Outer Reaches Coalition Agreement (ORCA) with Lothia and Illyria. Better yet, she managed to convince the Illyrian Merchants Council to allow her to speak on both Lothia and Illyria’s behalf.

To make matters worse, she also managed to get the Free Worlds League to transfer enough supplies and equipment to delay Marian advances on Logan Prime long enough to allow the effects of Free Worlds and Canopian strikes into Marian space to severely compromise Marian security in a three front war. But before that all happened, dad, you thought you were there. The initial landing on Lothia had nearly caused the complete collapse of the ORCA forces, with the highly experienced Legio I and II, supported by the Blackstone Highlanders and auxiliaries, not only hitting the line ORCA forces hard, but driving back the various mercenaries that were dropped in the path of the Legions advance. Victory was all but assured at that point.

Until Captain Manuel Todor led his Lothian Commandos on a night raid on the Marian HQ, killing every senior Marian commander except for Julia Carson. When the Sentinels, one of ORCA’s mercenaries, hit the Marian line ten minutes later, the chaos was dreadful. The Marian forces were close to rout, until Carson stabilised the line and Sean dropped Legio III across the ORCA advance shortly after arriving in system. Even then all was not lost, as Marian reserves were enough to force a victory through attrition, even counting the late arriving Circinian forces. But when the Free Worlds provided supplies, moved a battle group to Lothario and attacked Niops, whilst the Canopians struck at Islington, Baccalieu and Ballalaba, Sean, as the new Caesar, had to admit that the game was up and flee the system with his troops.

I think one could call those few weeks interesting times. How the hell did we get here from there? The Marian Hegemony should be a memory right now, especially if that bastard Duncan Marik had gotten his may. Prick!


79It was at this point, that Julia Carson walked out onto the deck, looking every part

the leader of the Marian Military, a post she was appointed to by Sean, in order to free him up in dealing with the power vacuum that now existed at the top of Marian politics. “What the hell have you been doing Sean?!”

“Its nice to see you to Carson. No standing on ceremony today?” Answered Sean, appearing nonplussed by his general’s temperament.

“I’ll stand you on your head, is what I’ll do you little idiot! Are you trying to provoke the Free Worlds into invading the Hegemony, or is this all some sort of sick joke. When I left for Niops in September, all of ORCA and half the damn Periphery were on side and willing to agree to our proposal. By the time I arrived there, Niops was on full alert for an invasion and word was that you and that idiot Duncan Marik were engaged in a interstellar pissing competition. I hate to tell you Sean, but you’re not going to win that game.”

Sean waited a moment before addressing his general’s concerns, letting her catch her breath and savouring the fact that this was the first time in their short stint together as leaders of the Hegemony where he actually knew more than she did.

“There is no pissing competition, Duncan pissed in his uncle’s shoes and the Janos didn’t like it.”

Carson’s eyes narrowed, not a good look, considering she looked like someone had spent the better part of ten years hitting her about the head and shoulders with a Mech. “Spill.”

Sean continued. “When you left, our proposal for a ceasefire, reparations to Lothia, Illyria and Circinus we could afford, a partial standing down of our military and release of certain mercs was accepted. Better yet, our broader proposal for our own inclusion into ORCA, along with as many other periphery realms as possible was working. If there is one thing the Periphery is never short of, it’s idealism. Dame Logan, Centrella, Calderon and surprisingly King Grimm, were all almost indecent in their rush to endorse the proposal and seem like the noblest supporter of peace and prosperity on the Rim. It was a little disturbing really.”

Carson relaxed a little, pulling a bench across and seating herself with about as much grace as a train wreck. “Go on.” She said.

“Problem was, no one wanted the Inner Sphere involved, especially Canopus. That’s one paranoid woman over there in the Magistracy. Anyhow, Dame Logan – now there is one hell of a good diplomat, hard core idealist, but a brilliant diplomat – she decides that she will approach the Free Worlds about leaving Lothian space, but all the while praising their efforts and offering undying friendship. She can really turn on the charm when she wants and it seemed to be working on Janos. Word was he was considering pulling out in exchange for little more than token gestures from us. Seems there is something really big going on in the League and Janos want no other major distractions at the moment. However, his dickhead nephew Duncan went a little screwy when he heard that his pet war might be called off and started issuing demands to the Marian Government in the clear, demands that would pretty much see us loose Niops and


80have left the Hegemony as little more than a protectorate of the League. I think I might have lost my head a little bit there.” Sean admitted a little guiltily.

“A little.” Julia snorted, “You’re response was a mix between a Caesarean address, a two year olds temper tantrum and an adolescents determination to start a fight.”

“It was a little rash, I agree, but it seems to have turned the trick.” Sean added “How.” “It seems as though Dame Logan took the whole series of events as her fault. She

is desperate to see an expanded ORCA body encompassing most of the major Periphery states, and is making damn well sure it happens. She negotiated, through ComStar’s good offices, the release by us of the remaining Niopian nobles to the League, a stupidly small reparation for the League from the Hegemony and a leash on that idiot Duncan Marik. Jason wanted out and Logan gave him enough to make it palatable to Parliament. I imagine its pissed that fool Duncan off though. We lost nothing we could not spare and we will soon be part of a Periphery wide alliance. What’s even more nuts, is that Canopus and Oberon were calling all sorts of fire down on the League for trying to restart the Reunification War. Just gotta love that Canopian fear of the League. Better yet, in her own gesture of peace and love, the Magestrix committed to withdrawing from Marian space, in the name of solidarity against League aggression, or some such nonsense. ”

Carson fixed a long, hard stare at the young Caesar. “You are the luckiest idiot god ever put breath into.”

Sean nodded vigorously, “I know. Best of all, the state will recover and be stronger for our trials. With what we gained recently from our new friends, we can look to a very secure future.”

Carson leaned back. “What of Operation GALDIUS now? You’re father was so close, and with what we have gained, added to the strength we will have following our recovery, we can still take what we want from ORCA.”

Sean paused, readying himself to give Carson an answer that she would not expect. “I think I’ve caught that idealism bug that’s going around. All I could think of for the last few months was recovering, then taking our new toys and teaching Lothia, Illyria and Circinus one hell of a lesson, then hammering Canopus, just for shits and giggles. But after what Dame Logan has done to protect us as part of the Periphery, even after attacking her realm, and the actions of that maniac Kyalla Centrella with her unilateral withdrawal and support against the Free Worlds, I actually feel obliged to be nice to our neighbours.”

“Good.” Was all that Carson said in return. “What do you mean good?” Sean asked, utterly confused. “If you had tried to start another war with our neighbours, they would have

united and destroyed us, quickly or slowly, but they would have made sure we were removed from the balance of power completely. In that case, I had every plan to remove you from power. Thank god you saw sense, as running this madhouse is not something I want to have to do any time soon.”

Sean was a little stunned by that.


81Chapter 42 Sturmwelt Department Store Silesia, Solaris City, Solaris VII Rahne Shire, Isle of Skye 2 October, 3024

After hour meetings weren’t often a common thing for the CEO of Sturmwelt and Sons, GMBH, but Alois Sturmwelt had, on occasion found them necessary to manage his Skye‐wide chain of well known department stores. But this meeting, requested by the militia and the LCAF was unusual. Word was, war was again on the horizon, you could almost feel it with the drop in tourism to the Game World, and even the regular customers were a lot more furtive these days. One element in the equation for possible war was that fact that survival equipment and personal body armour was practically vanishing of Sturmwelt store shelves as fast as it could be put up. The other factor in favour of war breaking out sooner rather than later, was the odds the Solaris bookkeepers were running. Over the last six months the short odds had moved from September 3026, to March 3025.

One hopes the Marks won’t come here, between all the stables, and the two units on world, plus the militia? It’ll be a damned bloodbath. The only military objective of any value is Solaris City. Is that why the militia wants to come and speak to me tonight?

Alois wasn’t a fool when it came to military matters, he hadn’t always been a CEO, having once served his nation as Hauptmann Alois Sturmwelt, 17th Skye Rangers infantry. He had seen war up close, and nasty, as it always was for the poor bloody infantry. Nasty was especially true that last fight desperate and brutal fight on Nestor. That Centauri Lancer Vulcan didn’t leave a lot of us alive, thought Alois, glancing furtively at his mynomer leg, or whole. He’d taken his medical retirement in stride, and turned a pension and an acumen for business planning and management, with over twenty years of careful investment, and built it into something. Now the damn Mariks might blow it all to hell and gone.

He was especially proud of the flagship store here on Solaris, the vast area it covered and contained was a capitalist Mecca. From the well lit aisles, to the clearly marked prices and cheerful staff, who were kept happy with good pay and benefits, al accentuated by specially commissioned artwork from rising young local artists. All that loving attention had made this store the jewel in the Sturmwelt crown. Alois thought about going down to the militia and offering his services, once it became clear that war was coming, planning to see if he could get volunteers from his staff to defend what was theirs. Solaris their home too, and they should get a chance to fight for it, if that’s what they want. Others he’d transferred deeper into Skye, especially those with families. He glanced at the picture of his sister, once an aerospace pilot with the 7th Donegal Guards, long dead in some skirmish with the Black Warriors some dozen years ago. I can’t ask people to lose their families, I’ve already lost mine. Alois thought mournfully as he looked over the stores bright rows from his vantage point above the main floor in the conference room.


82There was a knock at the door. It was Helga, his assistant; she’d stayed late to

help get things set up for the meeting. She was a stocky woman, with almond eyes and jet black hair shot through with grey, showing the effects of her forty years. Helga looked like somebody’s kindly aunt, until one remembered that once upon a time, Helga had been a Warhammer pilot with the 23rd Arcturan Guards; and a holy terror up and down the Tamar front for many years. But that was twenty years ago now.

“Sir, the delegation from the militia and the LCAF is here, can I show them in?” she said through the closed door.

Alois smiled, “Yes Helga, do so, then get on home, have Marcus drive you, the streets aren’t very safe this time of night.” It was a sad fact of life on the Game World, that it attracted all kinds, including the worst criminals. Even Silesia wasn’t safe after the sun went down. I hate to think what the homicide rate’s going to be this year.

Alois shook his head to rid it of the cobwebs forming. It was time to see what he could do for his adopted homeworld, and by extension, the nation he loved. Though he was born of Skye, he was no supporter of Free Skye. He’d seen enough boys and girls come through his platoon, and later company, to know there were brave men and women to be found throughout the Commonwealth. And far too many of them died before I even knew their damn names. Though, to be honest, me and the rest of the old sweats didn’t bother to learn them till they’d seen some action with us, no sense in getting attached to someone who might not live very long.

More mournful thoughts were swept away as the door opened, disgorging a gaggle of men and women, six in all, dressed in LCAF walking out uniforms, into the room. The newcomers quickly set up a small holo projector and the leader of the detail, a Kommandant from the looks of his epaulettes, motioned to Mr. Sturmwelt to sit down. Alois obliged him, returning to the seat he’d given up moments before.

The leader of the LCAF delegation stood, his dun skin and brown eyes suggesting Tamar origins, though the nameplate stated his name as “Gershwin”. “Herr Sturmwalt, I am Kommandant Gershwin, assistant deputy S‐2 for Planning for the Thirty‐Second Lyran Guards Regimental Combat Team, I am here, with my counterpart, Kommandant Hegstel from the Tenth Skye Rangers‐“ Gershwin motioned to a short, blonde woman, who nodded and smiled, “as well as representatives from the Solaris Militia, and a representative from the 65th Logistical Studies Group.” A giant ebon skinned man with wire frame spectacles and short hair nodded at that particular mention to Mr. Sturmwelt, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Longherin or Loki, if I miss my guess. I’ve dealt with their type before. How that lot can try and maintain their secretive nature when they hulk around like this fellow, screaming their affiliation for all to see eludes me. Being that this will be an in Commonwealth job, most likely Lohengrin, the lesser of two evils.

Gershwin continued, oblivious to the thoughts racing through Alois’s mind. “Mister Sturmwelt, it was with interest that we noticed your application to local authorities to form a volunteer battalion from the staff of your store, in the event of an invasion. While we’re quite flattered, we have other ideas in mind for your store. Ideas that are going to, by law, require your permission.”


83Alois sat up with a start, “If you were going to say no, you wouldn’t have come all

this way. And you sure as hell wouldn’t have brought the holoprojector.” Gershwin chuckled. “I was told you’re a shrewd man, and that you’d been an

infantry officer with the 17th. So let’s dispense with the pleasantries, Kommandant Sturmwelt. If war happens, and there’s no reason to suspect it won’t. There’s a good chance the Mariks will come for Solaris as they have always wished to do. The League’s been feeling a bit big of late, with their success on Cavanaugh and the near crisis they touched off in the Periphery, we suspect Solaris’s traditional neutrality will mean little when war comes.”

Alois nodded in understanding. “Good, now, to operational matters; Solaris City, and it’s environs, are the only

real military objectives on this world and form the centre of gravity for the entire systems defence. Well, we intend to make the Mariks pay a very bloody coin for it when they come. We all intend to do our part and we know it’s going to be hard as hell on the people of the city. You’d be surprised though, how many, even in the BattleMech Stables, are agreeable to assist us in the defence of this world. In many cases, I would say it’s not out of love of the Commonwealth, but love of Solaris, or more importantly the profit they all make from Solaris under the jurisdiction of the Lyran Commonwealth. With these peoples assistance, Marik will pay a very bloody coin indeed.” Kommandant Gershwin smiled a rictus grin, a far away look in his eyes.

“That’s all well and good, but how in the hell does my store come in?” Alois asked, a note of concern in his voice.

Gershwin motioned to the member of the delegation from the “65th Logistical Studies Group” who rose. “Call me Mr. Blue, sir. I know that sounds odd, but you’re just going to have to bear with me on this. Sir, your store is a hell of a draw for everybody. It sells a lot of high end items, and souvenirs…as well as a nicely stocked duty‐free section, correct? Just the target for victorious Marik troops to loot the hell out of, especially when we also set up the combined forward logistics HQ within the store, right?”

Alois blanched…”Just what are you getting at?” Mr Blue smiled, and it was the scariest thing Sturmwelt had ever beheld, even

scarier than that blood red Vulcan he’d faced on Nestor. “You know how a mousetrap works? Bait it with something tasty, then drop the hammer, hard. Well, you’ve got the bait, made tastier by our presence. Me and my associates? We can provide the hammer…a whole lot of hammer. We just need your permission to be the cheese.”

It was then the holoprojector started, and it projected a 3‐D projection of the building plans of the store…with the failure points highlighted….and understanding dawned on Alois. Well, it’ll be expensive, but how expensive will a Marik occupation be? Eh? Then the certificate, signed by the Wyatt Theatre Margrave appeared on the screen, promising full restitution for all damages caused. Just have to get the artwork out.

Alois leaned back and smiled. “What do you need from me, mein damen en herren?”


84Chapter 44 LCS Nordlander, Nadir Jump Point, Thorin, Wyatt Theatre, Lyran Commonwealth 4 October, 3024.

“It’s foolishness is what it is.” Barked Ryan Steiner, his blue eyes flashing. “That is amusing Ryan, as your vehement protests could be misconstrued as

cowardice.” Answered Frederick Steiner. Frederick’s response got the reaction he was hoping for, as Ryan started to bluster and prepare a retort.

However, Frederick cut him off before he could launch into a tirade. “The matter is not open for discussion Ryan. Standing Orders from the LCAF High Command leave me no option other than to make all speed for Thorin’s surface and aid in the defence of the world. As it is, the defenders have little hope against the armada arranged against them. With the full strength of the 10th Guards thrown into battle, the world may hold until reinforcements arrive. Better yet, we get to see how well this Kapteyn Alliance performs in the field.

Six hours ago, the 10th Lyran Guards RCT had arrived at a LaGrange jump point close to the world of Thorin, in order to allow Ryan Steiner a chance to visit the world quickly before the RCT moved on to its new posting in Davion space. The posting was the effective exile for both Ryan and Frederick, but Frederick had to admire the move of his cousin Katrina, the Archon. You give Ryan and I posts we cannot turn down, ridding yourself of two opponents to your rule. Clever Katrina, very clever. However, three hours later, massive emergence signatures were detected at the Nadir and Zenith jump points, later resolving themselves into large fleets from both the Draconis Combine and Free Worlds League. Frederick was left with little choice; with such a large force inbound, the 10th Guards would have to make planet fall and assist the defending 5th Lyran Regulars and Militia on world. The task would not be an easy one, with four FWLM Mech Regiments and two Mercenary units from the Combine, backed by several conventional Brigades and Aero units preparing to make planet fall.

Frederick knew his role and contacted Colonel Gustav Von Buren, commander of the 5th Regulars, who happily relinquished command to the 10th Guards. That’s when Ryan started making waves. The man was no soldier, little more than slimy and underhanded politician, a lap dog to the former Archon, Alessandro Steiner. Frederick had learned to detest the man on their enforced journey together, with his most recent outburst adding cowardice to his plethora of less than sterling character traits.

Ryan had stood in Frederick’s office for fifteen minutes, coming up with reason after reason why the 10th Guards should move on from Thorin, leaving the world to its fate. So it was with great glee that Frederick had suggested that Ryan accompany the 10th to the surface, to provide a welcome boost to the morale of the world’s defenders.

“I will not be accompanying you to the surface Frederick, it’s out of the question. My role with the Davion court is too important to jeopardise.” Ryan tried to puff himself up, but his lack of standing in the situation suit did little to add to his authority.


85“What you want and what will actually happen are to entirely different things

Ryan. You best prepare yourself, we are about to decouple from the JumpShip and begin our in run.”

**** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** **** November 5th, 3024 Left Bank of the Salido River, 9 km from Fairfax Thorin Wyatt Theatre, Isle of Skye Lyran Commonwealth

General Frederick Steiner, Commander of the 10th Lyran Guards and Duke of Duran, and once, in his own mind presumptive heir to the throne of the Lyran Commonwealth, stood on the embankment above the Salido River, his steel‐grey eyes watching the “falling stars in reverse” of Marik and Kurita Dropships leaving Thorin. His combat fatigues were rumpled from not having had a chance to bathe for two weeks, and along with the week of facial hair and eyes ringed in red, it all made him look more like one of the homeless than a leader of men.

We paid a pretty goddamned penny for this world, didn’t we? He thought to himself, God I hope SBC doesn’t hail me as the “Victor of Thorin” or some equally idiotic nonsense. Though there was a time I would have eaten that up with a spoon. Not after this. Never again.

Frederick once would have thought that nothing good ever came from that “damnable woman” Katrina Steiner, or that any thing she did was Lyran enough. But that thought had been burned away in the fire of Thorin. I have certainly been a glory seeking ass. The RCT concept, something he had once referred to as “the expensive and hollow payment Katrina gets for whoring the Lyran Commonwealth out to the Davions” had saved them all and in quite spectacular fashion.

Frederick looked across the river to the base camp of the 101st Panzergrenadier, a hive of activity as techs tried to repair the damage of the last month fighting. The 101st Panzergrenadier Brigade showed us that you don’t need to be a ‘Mech jock to die well for your country. The 101st and the Lohengrin made this victory possible. They kept us one step ahead of the purple bellies and the snakes. The cost, though. Good god, the cost.

The 10th, like many of the other premiere Lyran units, had been raising a lot of trouble along the borders with the Mariks and Kuritas of late. At first, it had seemed to many, Fredrick included, that Katrina was raising hell just to raise hell, but he had come to realize there was a greater purpose. We could have taken those worlds, but could we have held them, that’s the open question, isn’t it? Katrina chose correctly, where I would have dumped us into a war we could not win. Frederick’s new found mental honesty knew the answer without a second doubt: No, we could not hold them, except for Skokie, due to those mad Blacknovas.


86The Mariks and Kuritas had come calling to Thorin a month ago, their actions

suggesting that they were trying to give their alliance some unity in blood. What they had found was that Theodore Kurita hadn’t thought enough of this entire operation to jeopardize his best troops, so he did what any self‐respecting Successor Lord would have done in such a situation; he’d sent mercenaries. It seems given what occurred, that was a prudent decision.

The 10th Guards, with the 101st at their head, had hit the Orloff Grenadiers hard enough to unbalance the Marik line, whilst the militia and 5th Lyran Regulars tied up the DCMS mercenaries. Although Frederick’s plan was bold, he lacked the force to turn a stunning tactical victory into a rout for his opponents. The battle did, however, provide enough breathing room and time for a call for help to be answered.

A relief force was now inbound, with the 1st Skye Rangers at their head, screaming for Marik blood. Those crazy sons of Skye are going to be rather disappointed, not that I am complaining, I’d rather see the heels of the Mariks and Snakes after this month.

It was then that Frederick heard footsteps behind him, and tensed. Lohengrin come to kill me, or DEST, or Eagle Corps come for one last lick? He moved for his service automatic, a Mauser and Gray 10mm caseless, which had served him well for almost thirty years. Frederick turned and assumed the classic “Weaver stance”, and sighted down the barrel…

And saw he almost shot Ryan Steiner, his frame hunched with exhaustion in his borrowed LCAF issue flight suit, which was stained with sweat from all of the high‐G exertions demanded of one during combat operations. Frederick lowered his pistol angrily. “You Verdammt idiot! I could have shot you?”

Ryan shook his head, “After the last few days? I wouldn’t have blamed you.” Frederick thumbed the safety, returning the pistol to it’s holster with practiced

ease. “So, what brings you here Ryan? Are we going to plot how to use the deaths of so many of my men to bring down my cousin once and for all?” he said, with hints of both exhaustion and cynicism warring in his voice.

Ryan shrugged, “No, not tonight. Tonight I just wanted to celebrate being alive with an old friend and a bottle of Glengarry Special Reserve.” Ryan quipped as he produced a small bottle of the amber liquid and two metal cups.

Frederick laughed “Damn, if I’d have shot you, it would have been a waste of good alcohol, not something you waste these days.”

Ryan nodded as he poured a couple of shots. “Yes, Cousin Frederick, you’re right. But one wonders, what the hell are you doing woolgathering out here?”

Frederick shrugged his hunched shoulders, wincing as his knotted muscles protested the action, shrugging with the look of a man who had realized his life was a lie, and showed it written on his face. “Ryan, I’ve been an idiot. The Archon’s throne wasn’t mine to begin with. And Alessandro? Alessandro almost plunged us into civil war.”

Ryan tried to hide the panic rising in his gut: Oh god, no! Frederick abandon us…and he was going to prove so useful to me and Uncle Alessandro! He smiled disarmingly


87and motioned for Frederick to sit on some nearby rocks. He looked Frederick in his steel‐gray eyes and smiled “Whatever do you mean, cousin?”

Frederick sat before answering “Simple, Katrina’s little alliance may still not be the best of ideas, but there’s no doubt we’ve gotten more out of it than I thought. That little Davion RCT innovation may have saved our lives over the past month? Those tankers and infantrymen, they won this battle for us.”

“But Frederick, your counterattack it was‐“ Ryan opined, a note of concern in his voice.

“Made possible by the efforts of some very brave Lohengrin troops operating with elements of the 101st Panzergrenadier. If not for those men, this regiment and the 5th Lyran Regulars would be dead, or stuck behind Marik razor wire with Duke Sakuma enjoying the dubious hospitality of the Marik military governor.”

“So, then what is your new revelation?” Ryan asked idly. Frederick exhaled, his entire body ached from lack of sleep, meals eaten on the

run, too many hours in his Atlas or hunched over a map table in the regimental CP. “Simple Ryan. I’m never going to like Katrina. She and I are far too different, but I am coming to realize that I can learn to live with her. And if not the throne, then perhaps a career as the loyal opposition, with a stress on the loyal, is in order.”

Ryan froze in shock. His plans for the throne depended on using Aldo Lestrade and Frederick Steiner as patsies to be used for his benefit and then cast away. But now dear Cousin, you’re jeopardizing all that with your sudden bout of idealism. Uncle Alessandro will probably want to have his associates kill you…but I think simply passing a message to Also Lestrade and letting his men do the deed will work better…much better indeed.

Frederick smiled, “Yes, I can be a thorn in Katrina’s side without having to be some ugly plotting little traitor. I won’t do it anymore. The boys and girls we lost here, they deserve much better than that from me, especially after what they did here. Half of them are dead, or are filling Thorin’s hospitals. I owe them much better than that. I think, when we depart for our tour with the AFFS, I’m going to let the 101st have the place of honor in the departure parade. It’s the least I can do.”

Ryan blanched, the place of honor for parades was assumed as one for Mech units, not for a lowly light armour brigade.

“Don’t look at me so, Ryan, you know damn well I am serious. And no, I am not drunk or exhausted. I’ve grown up, and it was not a minute too soon.”

Ryan cleared his throat “But what of Lestrade?” Frederick smiled ferally “What of the little toad? He protested the formation of

one of the two regiments coming to relieve us? Who has cared more about the people of Skye? You, I or that “woman” we both despise, who has been acting to keep the DCMS and FWLM off‐balance. We both know a storm’s coming. A blind man could see it. We either bend like the reed, Ryan, or we die. I do not intend to die from a lack of mental flexibility. However, I am sure Aldo will never see things in such a way.”


88Ryan ground his fingers into his palm in frustration, How dare he! He just can’t

walk away from us, from all WE did for him. Very well Cousin, if you won’t “play ball”, then you’ll have to be removed from the playing surface.


89Chapter 45 Sandhurst Military Academy, England, Terra 11 October, 3024. Precentor Martial Angus Hamilton continued to sift through the huge pile of reports on the desk in front of him, not really wanting to deal with any of it. He was still recovering from an severe case of the flu, brought on by what his doctor told him was chronic exhaustion from over work. When Pat heard, he bundled Angus and his wife into the first available transport to Australia and told his commanding officer that if he heard from him within two weeks, he would personally shoot Angus for not resting. He would never admit it publically, but the two weeks at home had been a god’s end, allowing him to recover from his infection and actually stop thinking about the ComGuards for a short time. After being back for three days, he still could not focus properly, as the flu had come back the minute he returned to Sandhurst. Nevertheless, he was forced to knuckle down and concentrate, as the final checks for the five forming Combat Brigade Groups and several reconditioned WarShips would need to be completed by weeks end if they were to commission on time. As he looked over the notes for the new 130th Brigade, he heard a commotion in the hall outside his office and the sound of many feet, walking quickly across the hard hallway floor. Seconds later, Primus Myndo Waterly burst through his office door, her golden hair wreathing her angry face like a molten halo as her robe billowed out around her, adding to the effect.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!” she screamed, throwing a thick, wire bound document at Hamilton, which he ducked with ease, but otherwise he remained motionless at his desk. Hamilton’s lack of movement, or apparent surprise, seemed only to enrage Waterly further. Before she could launch into one of her tirades, Hamilton interjected. “It seems to be a document Primus. How can I answer you with any more detail than that, when you storm into my office unannounced and start throwing things at me? I assume it is of importance and warrants detailed attention, but I again ask, how will that be possible when you do not even explain what is contained within the document?” Myndo paused, seeming to gather herself and with bluster and threats typical of her from recently, she began. “Very well Hamilton, but your continued place as Precentor Martial will hinge on our discussion here today.” Waterly gathered her robe before her and sat, allowing Hamilton to see her two aides in the corridor, just before they closed the door, leaving the Primus and Precentor Martial in peace. Without looking to the document, which was on the floor somewhere behind him, Hamilton began digging for information. “What is the issue at hand Primus?” Myndo, now apparently composed, began her explanation. “Over the last few months, ROM has managed to create an algorithm that has allowed us to crack most of the current codes used by the Successor Lords and allow them to read the mail of the great


90powers. ROM tells me that this advantage won’t last forever, but it is certainly useful for now.” Hamilton nodded. “Useful is an understatement, instead of learning what we need after events have transpired, a current and accurate picture of the inner thoughts of the Successor States will be invaluable over the coming months. However, I take it ROM has learnt something disturbing from this bounty.” The Primus fixed Hamilton with an icy stare. “You state the obvious Precentor Martial. But yes, to answer your question, ROM has discovered something of great distress to me. It would seem that one of the Successor States had made an unprecedented discovery.” Hamilton cocked his head to one side. “A memory core. We know that the Outworlds and Taurians have made small discoveries in the last year, but nothing truly ground breaking and although the Marians have disseminated what they learnt from Niops, the sum total of regained knowledge is not truly significant.” Myndo vehemently shook her head. “I disagree, any regained knowledge is a blow to Blake’s grand plan. Unfortunately, ROM is too busy creating chaos for the coming war to be ready to launch another Holy Shroud. There will be a reckoning, and maybe more with this new information. How ready is the fleet?” Hamilton’s insides went cold. “The fleet? Why is their readiness’ of such sudden importance?” Myndo’s voice dropped to a cold whisper. “Because dear Angus, it would appear that a Successor Lord has made a great discovery and is almost ready to deploy the first new WarShips, not under our control, in nearly 150 years.” Angus’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That is grave news, but I fail to see how it directly affects my standing as Precentor Martial.” “You are responsible for military security for our order.” Myndo answered “You should have been aware of this earlier and had contingency plans in place.” Hamilton chuckled “I see Belov has been playing games again. Yes, the ComGuards are responsible for analysing and reporting on Successor State military developments. However, all our information comes from ROM, so we can only comment on what we are given. As this is the first I have heard of this, I would suggest that either ROM has been hiding it from me, or this is the first ROM knows of it as well. What else can you tell me?” Myndo did not seem convinced by his answer. “It is all there in that document. Read it.” Instead of reaching for the document, Angus pressed a button on the intercom on his desk. The voice on the other end said “Naval Operations.” “This is the Precentor Martial. Send Precentor Naval to my office immediately.” “Aye Sir, Precentor Naval to Your Office immediately, Precentor Martial.” The intercom shut off and Hamilton looked to Waterly. “Best we use our in house expert on such matters. He will be here in a few minutes.” “Very well.” Answered Waterly.


91 The next few minutes went slowly as neither spoke. Hamilton was now sure that Waterly did not mean to remove him. Belov would be in for it though. Smug bastard, if he is playing us, Myndo will gut him like a pig. Footsteps in the hall announced the approach of the Precentor Naval, and a knock at the door his arrival. “Come in.” said Hamilton. Precentor Naval entered and closed the door, clad in his undress naval fatigues. “Morning Sir.” He began and then he saw the Primus “And Primus, an unexpected honour.” The Primus, still in what must have been a towering anger, merely pointed at the crumpled document in the corner. “Get that, read it and explain its implications.” Precentor Neville looked at Hamilton puzzled, but on a nod from the Precentor Martial, crossed the office and picked up the document, opened the cover and tilted it to get the light from the nearby window to fall on the first page. After a few moments a muttered “My god” gained Precentor Naval a hard look from the Primus, but undeterred, he skimmed through the entire document. When finished, he looked at both the Primus and the Precentor Martial. “Impressive, but hardly worth worrying about.” Myndo’s voice took on a decidedly unpleasant edge. “Hardly worth worrying about! You are trying to tell me that the redevelopment of the Successor State WarShip fleet and the apparent spread of this technology to the Periphery as well, is not worth worrying about? This Lostech rediscovery could set our plans back years.” Neville shook his head “Hardly Lostech Primus.” “NOT LOSTECH! Then what is it if not the grail to those unholy warmongers!?” “If you would forgive a little history to explain this Primus?” Asked Precentor Naval in level voice. Myndo nodded once. “When the Second Succession War broke out, the practices of the first war continued, with the remaining shipping infrastructure, especially naval yards, being the main targets. However, despite the loss of all naval construction capability, the knowledge of how to construct capital grade weapons, compact cores and large inter‐planetary drives was not. With the loss of Invincible after Hesperus, a gentleman’s agreement not to restart the naval arms race, seemed to fall into place. No state could really afford to restart naval construction, although anyone theoretically could have done so. It would seem that this recent discovery has provided the tools to do just that.” Myndo did not seem entirely placated. “I still fail to see how this is a minor inconvenience.” “That’s easy enough to explain Primus.” Began Neville “The design specs here seem to point to small ships, little more than over‐sized assault ships. Sure, they can be produced in numbers, due the fact that existing JumpShip yards can accommodate the small hulls they are built on, and that the initial design seems to use many components of the Invader class transport. However, they are small, anti‐fighter platforms more than anything else. It would take several of these ships to face up to even one of our Destroyers. We currently have in service over thirty WarShips, and although over the next five years, we may well be outnumbered, we will never be out gunned. Add to that the fact that we are constantly expanding the Titan Yards, which produce more than any one


92Successor State can, and we will maintain a large advantage in naval power for at least the next fifty years.” Waterly interrupted. “That’s all very well Precentor Naval, but what of the dissemination of this technology?” Neville shrugged. “To be expected really. It’s too valuable not to trade. Look at what has been gained by the trade of this information. New regiments, large numbers of replacement Mechs and Tanks and design schematics for dozens of models. By negotiating quickly and broadly, maximum gains have been made for the trade of information and materials which would have been developed or stolen in time by enemy states anyway.” Myndo seemed to be finding it harder to stay angry at her advisors. “But what of the original materials that were discovered, why did we not know of these before?” “Because Kerensky lied.” Answered Neville. “It would appear that the materials came from the Rasa Fleet Service Yards. They were used during both the Reunification War and the War against Amaris to service repair and rebuild SLDF WarShips. However, due to their presence in a Successor State, Kerensky had them shut down and hidden. Records seemed to indicate that he took the yards with him and our own searches in the last century failed to locate the base, so it all seemed to match. It would appear however, that the base was mothballed and hidden, then rediscovered a few years back. It seems, from these documents that the yards were moved to where they could be used for WarShip construction, but there was more than could be effectively used due to the dearth of available yards for hull construction. So the excess infrastructure has been traded for supplies, mercenaries and design schematics.” Hamilton, as always, was impressed by Precentor Neville’s ability to explain subjects simply and in a straight forward manner and as always, in a way that took the vicious edge of the Primus. “Thankyou Graham, you have explained this situation clearly and in way that highlights the true meaning of this discovery.” “Your welcome sir. I will have the Naval Staff begin simulations with the captured details of the ships.” “Excellent, I also want you to begin to accelerate plans for new designs to begin entering the fleet once the reactivations are complete.” “Yes sir.”

Hamilton turned to Myndo. “I hope this has alleviated your concerns somewhat Primus. Although a serious development, it is not a grievous as was initially feared.” Myndo nodded slowly, obviously lost in thought. “Yes gentlemen, thankyou. I will, however, need to have a long and frank discussion with our Precentor ROM. But whilst I am here, please, I would like an update on our forces and their expansion.” The conversation continued on into the afternoon, as plans were discussed and the Primus’s ruffled feather smoothed.


93Chapter 46 Davion Palace, Avalon City, New Avalon, Crucis March, Federated Suns 25 December, 3024.

Hanse Davion leaned forward over the chair, attempting to stretch his lower back. He had not had enough exercise lately, with the increasing tensions of the war that was now certain to come, and had spent far too much time in uncomfortable chairs, paying little heed to his posture. The result was a constant dull ache in his lower back, something that was doing little to improve his slowing fraying patience. As he straightened up, his crumpled uniform, looking worse than the Prince did, he looked across the room at his long serving Intelligence Secretary, Quintus Allard. The man was doing far more work than Hanse, yet apart from a slight extension of the grey in his hair, showed little negative effect from the building crisis.

“What are latest assessments on CCAF troop movements Quintus?” Hanse said, knowing he needed to get the briefing back on track and stop day dreaming about more comfortable places.

“Sketchy, but altogether indicative of a large move of forces from the Free Worlds border of the Sian and Capella Commonalities to the St. Ives Commonality.”

Hanse grimaced. Damm it, the bastards are coming and its three or four years too early. Despite that, this will be a short war, no matter what happens. No one has the supplies yet to mount a major offensive, no one will have those until mid‐3027 at the very earliest. The reports from the RepDep Command last year showed that we have in hand now about 12% of what we would need for major offensive. That’s worlds better then during most of the third war, but not for what I have planned for the Sun’s future. Then there’s all the fighting since June, nothing to change borders, but if there are many more battles like those on Kittery and Mitchell, there wont be a spare part between Alcyone and Midale to be had for love or money.

The battle of Mitchell, several months ago, had seen several large AFFS formations forced offworld by new Capellan units, backed by McCarron’s Armoured Cavalry. Although Mitchell was never a target for conquest, Hanse had backed Morgan’s plan, sent from New Syrtis, to send a message to the new Chancellor. Unfortunately for Hanse, Candace and her brother had counter‐attacked hard, doing more damage than they received, then proceeded to brutalise AFFS forces on Kittery. Only the mauling of the Red Lancers a month later had given the Capellan March anything to cheer about. Now Capellan forces were on the move all over Liao space and for all his trying, Quintus was unable to track them all. That worried Hanse greatly.

“What do you know Quint?” “We know there are significant concentrations of forces on St. Ives, Purvo,

Warlock and Maladar, with indication more units may have moved into Taga, Homestead, Necromo and Ares. Other information has forces in Sarna and Tikonov rearranging, to reunite scattered regimental groups. Either the CCAF is undergoing the largest


94reorganisation since the Second Succession War, or were seeing the initial moves of strikes into the Capellan March.”

“And we can’t move in time to stop them!” Hanse retorted, pushing the couch away as his temper broke. “Why the hell couldn’t MIIO or DMI get any earlier indications? We have never had this sort of intelligence failure before, even when Michael was playing his bloody games!”

“I don’t know Hanse and it pains me to say that. Our agents had no foreknowledge of this move and the loss of Mallory on Sian in June was a blow we are yet to recover from. I can tell you that the new mercenaries appearing along the Free Worlds/Capellan border are likely new formations, raised as part of the Minimum’s Movement and signing straight on with the Kapteyn Alliance as duel purpose peacekeepers, perhaps even with Combine assistance.”

“A secure border for Janos and Candace is dream come true for both.” Hanse snorted and smiled a wry grin. Surrounded by enemies, as were all the Successor States, the Federated Suns had only once had such a luxury, over four centuries ago.

“What of Katrina, what does she say?” Quintus reached down into the teetering pile of folders and reports on the coffee

table that was between his seat on the couch, and Hanse. He dug around for a moment, before pulling a binder from the stack and opening it. “Simon Jonson has had similar difficulties penetrating ISF and SAFE security, but indications are that large forces from the Pesht district are now in Rasalhague. Additionally, FWLM forces have effective control of Loric and are fighting on Dixie. If there is going to be a war on, it looks to have already started on that front.”

Hanse looked down, running operational scenarios through his head; how and where to move troops, what units to task with what counter‐strikes and where to route transport and supplies.

“What of the Draconis March and Task Force Black?” Hanse had formed Task Force Black by accident, as mercenaries were hired in the

ongoing efforts to hunt down the rouge Redfield Renegades. Initially the Black Tigers and Hell’s Black Aces took up the chase and were later joined by six other commands, four of which had the word Black in their name somewhere. Naming that task force was easy.

“TF Black is over Lima and awaiting orders to conduct the deep strike on Benjamin. We know that there are troop movement’s in the district, but we believe the path through is clear. However, there are large movements in Galedon as well, and it would appear that we have lost track of Wolf’s Dragoons.” Quintus said this last part with deep regret in his voice.

However, Hanse smiled at him. “Which means they are either off on one off their disappearing acts, with Kurita moving forces to compensate, or they will be over New Avalon in 2 months to tear the place down.”

Quintus nodded “I would go with the latter, or some other high profile target. Wolf is too dangerous to have on the other side of the border, but so far, we have had little success at trying to pull him away from the DCMS.”


95Hanse changed track again, his mind racing. “What of the Taurians, the last thing

we need is for them to get in on any fun that the Kapteyn Alliance is having?” Quintus sat back, picking up a glass of water as he did so, “That’s the good news.

It would appear that the Taurians are bored with beating up on colonists and just seem to be floating about with little real purpose at the moment. There is talk in military circles over there about forming new units and creating some sort of standard for combined armed task forces, but what will come of any of the talk is not yet clear.”

“So Quint, what do we have to throw at the DCMS and the CCAF when they come.”

Quintus smiled “More good news is that we have plenty, although supplies are at 10% your requirements, following all the recent raiding and planetary denial strikes, and transportation may be an issue. We can drop RCT’s on any assault and still call on the March Militia’s as a solid reserve. Most of our best mercenaries are on contract until 3026 at the earliest and both the Capellan and Draconis Marches are in the hands of able and loyal retainers. My assessment is this: We will be hurt badly by these coming strikes until we can bring our forces to bear. Then we can begin the gradual reduction of the enemy and eventually take the war to them. However, due to low stocks of parts and supplies, I don’t see a general offensive on our part before 3026.”

Hanse moved around the couch to seat himself opposite his intelligence minister, as Quintus finished off his water and returned the glass to the table. “I believe Quintus that we shall need to weather a fierce storm, but a short one. The DCMS cannot support a full two front war for long and the Liaos and Mariks will be eyeing each other off, looking for the opportunity to drive the dagger into the other’s back. Once the DCMS’s attacks stall and the Capellans and Free Worlds are reading themselves for a renewal of their old war; that is when we will strike. Not just us though, we will hit with the strength of the Lyrans behind us. The benefit of the joint planning staff from the LCAF and AFFS will pay great dividends at that moment.”

“I don’t doubt it Hanse. We will likely loose parts of both the Kittery and Ziliang Salients, or one all together. It will be a bloody slog to reclaim both; perhaps we should look to strike around Tikonov in retaliation?”

Hanse smiled “Possibly, but I think something more creative will be needed. I want the Chancellor to wake up of a morning wondering if the sky on Sian will fall that day. I believe Morgan and Justin have been working on something?”

Quintus smiled at the thought of his son’s progress “Yes, they call it CASE BLACK. It is predicated on no support for the Capellan March coming from the Federation at large, with the Taurians invading as well. Basically, front line forces under threat are pulled back out of the salients to concentrate force and then a general counter‐attack is made at St. Ives and then wheeling around at Sian. Something like that should get the Chancellor’s attention.”

Hanse laughed for what felt the like the first time in days. “Hell, a move like that would get Kerensky’s attention. Talking about getting Kerensky’s attention, what do you make of all the diplomatic flurries in the Periphery after the Marian’s little war?”


96Quintus crinkled his neck, trying to loosen it as he spoke, You’re as tired as I am

aren’t you Quintus, you so rarely show it though. “My Prince, it would seem that the Periphery is moving towards a general

alliance. It appears to be trade related, with some stipulations for the common defence and for assistance in technological research. They are calling it ORCA, for the Outer Reaches Coalition Agreement. Seems all the major Periphery powers are willing to sign, along with several smaller states as well. It presents no threat to us, even considering Taurus, as the agreement does not cover assisting other Periphery aggressors. All in all, it may well focus the smaller powers on pooling their resources and finally ridding us of most of the pirates in the area, which is of benefit to all.”

“The end of piracy, that would be nice, but it’s a little much to think that the combined forces of the Periphery could invade and dismember the Capellan Confederation.” Both men laughed hard at Hanse’s joke before quiet fell over the room. Hanse then looked up and fixed his blue eyes on Quintus intently.

“Go to bed Quintus. I don’t want to see, or hear report of you, for twelve hours – And that is an order form your Prince.”

Quintus passed a hand across his face, showing how tired he really was. “If only all orders were so welcome. I trust you will rest to?”

Hanse put on a straight face. “Yes mother.” Both men laughed again as Quintus got up and let himself out. Hanse was as

good as his word, though he never left the couch.


97Chapter 47 Sykkolmishur Plains, Rasalhague, Radsdat Prefecture, Draconis Combine 27 December, 3024. The Dragon was finished, however, its pilot was too stupid to realise it and continued to try and press on pass Hauptman Karl von Prussen and strike at the rear echelon of the Blacknova’s, three kilometres further west. Prussen brought up his BNC‐3S Banshee’s right arm for balance, as he drifted the targeting reticule over the Dragon’s centre of mass. One squeeze of the trigger later and the Dragon’s centre of mass seemed to fold in on itself, as the power of the dual beams wrought havoc on its internal systems, before sending the huge machine face first into the dirt. “Nice shooting Peacock, you’re ace for this run.” His radio growled with the sound of the HQ Company Commander, Captain Paul Mitchell. Mitchell and his lance were a kilometre to the north, engaging the rest of the Dragon’s lance at long range. North of them were the four other ‘Mechs from the command company, all of which had been deployed to ensure that the way home for the Blacknova’s 6th Company was open and clear. Two days ago, the 6th, along with the Command Company and 4th Company, had landed on Rasalhague as part of Operation PEST; the Blacknova’s chance to do what they did best, explained, in their own words as “Kick the living piss out snake bastards and nick anything that wasn’t tied down.” The plan called for the regiment to split up into six separate units, each backed by a small number of Loki soldiers, and simultaneously strike at Rasalhague and the province’s five Prefecture Capitals. The plan was madness, with each tiny force coming in disguised as merchants and dropping just out side the capital of their target. For Hauptman von Prussen, colloquially know as Captain Peacock to his new assignees, his first excursion with them has been an eye opener. Upon arrival at Tamar, he had finally met Colonel Ian “Iggy” Melhuish, the small and scrawny looking commander of the regiment. The man was quiet at first, seeming to have little presence, further confirming Karl’s view that the entire unit was a cosmic joke. The Colonel had however, asked some pointed and searching questions of the Captain’s past and skills, rapidly jumping from topic to topic. By the end of the conversation, he had also taken to calling von Prussen George, for no apparent reason. Karl could get no explanation from any of the others in the Command Company, to which he had been attached, who simply told him that if he was called George, then George he was. Karl, as LCAF liaison, had attended the final planning meeting for Operation PEST, where the official reprimand from Katrina Steiner, for taking and holding Skokie when ordered on a simple heavy raid, had sparked interstellar controversy. Karl took great pleasure in reading the missive from the Archon, which stated in part “…cease and desist all unsanctioned actions against the Combine, or the Commonwealth will have no choice but to end our contract with you and blacklist your unit. If you offer armed reprisals or


98resistance against LCAF units, we will be forced to classify you as a pirate and act accordingly. Karl felt justified in the Archon’s remarks, the Blacknovas were a band of seditious, ill‐disciplined and dangerous mercenaries, who required a firm hand if they were to be controlled. However, to Karl’s great distress, the Colonel pulled several additional messages from his coat pocket and proceeded to read them. The first stated “Dear Iggy,

Sorry about my earlier message; you know how these things go, though. I needed to publicly disavow what you did in order to maintain discipline with the rest of the forces. If one of those idiot social officers got it into his head that he could climb the ranks faster by attacking just anyone, well, we wouldn't have a military in six months. You did a damned fine job taking Skokie, and I'll be sending troops to secure it as soon as possible. When they arrive, there will be an additional three transports for your use. I've got an assignment for you, and I think you'll like it. I want you to head coreward into Rasalhague. Conduct recon raids as necessary; there have been some menacing troop movements thereabouts that I'm worried about. Find out what you can and smash as many of the snakes as possible along the way. Don't spend your troops, though; we're going to need you in the coming months. Good luck, old friend, and Godspeed. Sincerely, Katrina. Karl had nearly chocked as the Colonel read the message, or more so, recited it from memory whilst looking at the Lyran officer the entire time. He then informed all present that he had told Katrina that he intended to steal the 12th Loki detachment and tour the Rasalhague District. The Blacknovas were officially told to proceed as they saw fit. Five weeks later and the Blacknovas were striking hard, the intent being not so much to steal, but to show the impotence of the Dragon to the people of Rasalhague. The district had always been restless, but with pirate raids and the SPA getting stronger by the day, the Colonel believed the time was right for some rabble rousing. So, two days ago, the Command Company elements, along with 4th Company, landed north of the Capital and the struck around the west side of the city, shooting up whatever came in their path, moving quickly and changing course almost at random. The militia and the 8th Rasalhague Regulars had come out to play, but to little avail. At least a company of the 8th’s ‘Mechs were down, for only 3 mercenary ‘Mechs, and the unlucky battalion of militia that got in the way had been handily broken in forty minutes of intense fire and manoeuvre. Meanwhile, 6th Company was playing a game of what their commander called “Hide and go #$%& yourself”, which seemed to involve the 6th laying successive ambushes for the 107th Rasalhague Armoured Brigade, whilst making off with whatever they could carry. Late the night before, the 6th broke contact with the 107th and skirted the city to the south, whilst playing the banned Rasalhaguian anthem, on all channels and blaring from their speakers. In the words of the Colonel “If I didn’t know better, I would think that Captain Moran wants to incite the Governor to riot.” Riot the Governor did, as the balance of the 8th came pouring out of the city on the 6th’s tail. The vanguard of the 8th Rasalhague had been so busy chasing the 6th, it never saw the waiting ‘Mechs of Mitchell’s Company. Once the raiding unit passed through the


99lines of the Command Company, the lead company of the 8th had run straight into the waiting arms of Captain Mitchell’s men. Ten minutes of battle saw Karl bag three kills and the Command Company repulse the 8th Rasalhague’s lead elements. Moments after the Dragon Karl had shot up hit the ground, the Colonel’s voice was on the air. “All Novas, withdraw to point 6. Command, you have the rear, 4th in front. Nice work there George” Several “right o’s” and a “yep” came over the radio. When will these savages learn proper radio discipline? The almost casual and open radio chatter was one thing that Prussen could not adjust to. He answered after the other had finished. “Roger nova Six, understood, proceeding to point 6 as rear guard.” The reply that came back was very dead pan, “You do that George.” For the next thirty minutes there was no contact as the column moved south, at right angles to their previous westerly course, at 50km/h, coving the 40km to point 6, the extraction point, as fast as possible. Then, as suddenly as they always did, Aerospace fighters appeared on Karl’s long range screen. “Nova 6, Peacock. Four inbound contacts, 020 degrees, altitude 5000, speed 700, contact in sixty.” Karl read off the data his battle computer was feeding him as he readied his weapons. “Thanks Peacock. Nova’s, wheel spread and spray ‘em.” Came the reply, very laconically. As one the ‘Mechs moved from column formation and spread out into three lines, each getting longer along an east/west axis, as the ‘Mechs spread out as fast as they could, now facing the threat from the north, all having reversed course. The four fighters, now identified as Shologars, concentrated on the Archer of Sergeant Chris Dale, to Karl’s left. Despite the entire first line of the Blacknova’s opening up, the incoming fighters were able to score hits all over Dale’s ‘Mech, eventually hitting the Archer’s ammunition bins and obliterating the ‘Mech, moments after Chris ejected. Return fire clipped the last Aerofighter, which suddenly rolled and wheeled, before diving into the ground between the first two lines of ‘Mechs. Fire from the third line blew another fighter to pieces in the air, before the two remaining fighters turned east and screamed away at low level. Before the call from Colonel Melhuish was over the line, Karl was already moving to where Chris had come down and was trying to untangle himself from his chute. Karl got a thumbs‐up from the man, before leaning his ‘Mech down and ejecting the chain ladder for the man. A minute later, Chris clambered into the cockpit, looking no worse for ware. “Thanks mate, though I was buggered there for a moment.” Chris looked around the cockpit, which was, in a word, immaculate. “Holy hell, this has to be the cleanest cockpit I’ve ever seen!” “A cockpit should be clean, regulations stipulate it.” “Bit hard when your ‘Mech is, or was, over a century old. Dad’s going to be pissed.” Chris’s voice was somewhat glum, as the reality of being dispossessed sunk in. He folded down the jump seat and strapped himself in.


100 Karl could not help but feel sorry for the man. “Nova 6, Peacock. Tike is onboard and well.” “Nice work Peacock. All right Novas, lets keep onto six.” Came the Colonel’s reply. The formation moved away from the burning wreckage of the Archer and the two Shologars, returning to their former speed and heading. As the formation ate up the distance to the extraction point, Karl thought back over the last three days. A force, less than a battalion strong, had hit a Provincial Capital, taken several Mech’s as salvage, shot up a company of the enemy and a battalion of militia and escaped with four ‘Mechs lost. It can’t all be luck. Melhuish has some skill as a commander, despite his complete lack of protocol, and the disciple and skill of the units MechWarriors under fire has been almost as good as a Royal Guards formation, even if they have no proper Lyran structure to their ways. Still, they are insubordinate and reckless and no doubt we will here that the other raids have been repulsed with heavy losses. Despite that last thought, a little part of Karl thought he may be proved completely wrong.


101Chapter 48 Unknown System, Deep Periphery 31 December, 3024.

The Captain was on the bridge, floating. This is the best part of a journey he thought stuck in deep space with a engine still charging, with days to float and watch in quite tranquillity and solitude. His thoughts jarred at that It would be solitude, if our high ranking guest did not keep interfering and making suggestions. I do not care if he was recently one of our highest office holders, the man is a pest.

For the past six months the ship and her crew, with the attached DropShip, had been moving deeper and deeper into the Periphery, further from home, and help, should anything go wrong. However, being this far from real civilisation made the Captain happy, as he had never fitted in. He had struggled to get where he was and then jumped at the chance to be sent of on his own, on what many other would consider exile. To the Captain, it was sweet peace.

Six months of travelling, mostly through systems not yet surveyed, towards the holdings of the Hanseatic League. His guest was most keen to meet the Hansa, having heard of them, but never meet them. He is not missing much. The Hansa a self righteous, not realising how insignificant their little trading empire is. Should even a power of moderate significance turn it’s eye their way, their petty arrogance would be ended. It would be another two months at least before they reached Bremen, where they were to resupply, then head out on the main leg of their journey, stopping and cataloguing systems for future reference, something that seemed to excite their grand passenger more than anything else. What did he call it, getting back to his roots? I really do not care.

The Captain continued to float, watching the dark expanse of the void for hours, not bothered by his crew, who knew better, or by further thoughts of his guest, he merely drifted in quite contemplation of the grand spectacle of the stars.

Here ends Book 2.

the other option - our battletech

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