OBT Forum

Briefing Room #2
Government House, Carantania
Novo Franklin, Deep Periphery
22 Jan. 3078, 1100 Hours Local Time

David chuckled as he regarded the over-dressed little snot who thought he was a military genius. “Do I understand you correctly? Your Prince’s plans hinge on conquering, intimidating, or otherwise convincing the other noble families to submit to the authority of Prince Posavski?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying!” The arrogant young man snapped at David. “I thought I was being quite clear! Can’t you hear plain English spoken?!”

David smiled gently. “Of course I can… and we CAN defeat any of your peers fairly quickly, with minimal effort. The question I have, is: What then?”

“What then? Why, we rule of course!” The young man seemed incredulous that the question was even being asked.

David laughed again, softly. “Now it’s you that isn’t listening… I said we could DEFEAT any military force your peers could put on the field…. But just beating them isn’t the end… There are almost fifty Noble holdings on the planet… You barely have enough officers to garrison three of them, and even that’s stretching things thin, given your insistence on using illiterate conscripts to fill out your lower ranks. If you are unable to follow up on the victories, as soon as you leave, the old rulers will either be back, or the locals will rise up and rebel against you.”

David gestured to the map before them. “Say we take these three holdings here.” He pointed to a cluster of noble estates. “You’ll need to garrison the holdings for at LEAST the next three to five years while you get your own administrators installed and operating smoothly, as well as rooting out the remnants of the old order and re-educating the serfs as to who their new rulers are. Then, even if you manage to get every single one of the old nobility, you’ll have to have increased security forces for at least a generation to deal with pretenders to the throne and uprising from malcontents.”

“So?” The young man sneered. “We have plenty of serf-soldiers… the lower classes breed like rabbits. We can just call up a few more battalions if we need to.”

David shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And who do you propose to have LEAD those serf-soldiers? The limits imposed by your policy of not educating the serf classes, mean that you have to overstaff your battalions with lower level officers, doing jobs which would fall to NCO’s in other armies. One of your battalions requires three times the officer staffing than a comparable STEINER battalion, which should tell you something right there! Plus the educational restrictions you have in place also mean that your armor crews and senior technical staff must ALSO be drawn from the noble class. You have a fairly small, and restricted, noble class from which to draw your officers from…From the figures I’ve seen of your population demographics, you only have room to staff two to three more battalions before you have to start recalling older, retired officers and opening the ranks to female officers.”

“Noble Women?! In Combat!?... I’d be shot just for suggesting it!” The young snot looked stunned. “Serfs maybe... but nobles? The very idea is obscene!”

David shrugged. “It’s your world, you can lose it however you choose.” Tossing a couple folders on the table, he continued. “Now, it’s not ALL bad news. The Prince does have a few allies, and they can put another four or five battalions in the field to assist without leaving their own holdings unprotected.” David grinned like a shark. “Of course this requires a bit of trust on the part of the Prince, that they’ll actually turn the territories over to him later, and not just try to keep them.”

The young noble stared at the map and folders for a few minutes before looking up to glare at David. “I assume you have suggestions and are not just here to throw manure all over everything?!”

David shrugged. “A few, but you aren’t going to like them.”

“And this would stop you how?” The noble snarled, “You seem to take great joy in saying things we don’t like, why stop now?”

David smiled. “As my father told me many times, “A man who’ll tell you a pleasant lie over an unpleasant truth does you no favors.””

Tapping his hand on the folders in front of him, he kept going. “You have two major problems… Manpower shortage and a chaotic supply system... The manpower shortage is going to require some serious adjustments. No matter what, you are going to have to slow down your schedule. You just don’t have the trained bodies to staff the number of garrison units you’ll need, and the time to train new ones is going to be a bitch. There IS one way to help in the relatively short term, but it’ll require loosening the education restrictions.”

David picked up the military assessment that his infantry Lieutenants had just finished. “Your Battalions are insanely overstaffed with officers doing NCO tasks. My people say that if you manage to set up an effective NCO school, you can reduce that staffing requirement to a quarter of the current levels. But that will require allowing at least SOME of the serf-conscripts to learn to read.”

The young noble looked ready to jump in and object, but David held up a hand to stall him. “I’m not saying you have to educate them all, or to the same level as your officer class, though that would probably pay long term dividends if you could mitigate the other consequences… but you should consider the children of your technical-serfs, or even cherry-pick the brighter and more reliable serf-soldiers for a special NCO course incorporating basic education and political indoctrination as well as squad level tactical and leadership courses. Not only would it give the more ambitious serfs something to shoot for… a way to better their lives, it’ll also give you a chance to very closely observe them for reliability…. Once the NCO’s are in place and operating, that’ll allow you to reduce officer staffing greatly… Which will, in turn, allow you to expand your military. This will take TIME though…. Not as much as starting from the ground up, but some.”

Tossing the folder onto the map, David picked up the supply report. “The other big problem you have is supply… Your troops are very unevenly equipped. In one company alone, my people saw at LEAST seven different rifle types being used, requiring four different calibres of ammunition. This is a big problem for your supply people, and limits effectiveness. A more uniform equipment issue would simplify both training and supply concerns, allowing for more efficient use of resources and a better planning capability for your staff people.”

The young Nobleman just looked resentful. “We don’t have the kind of resources the Inner Sphere does. We can’t afford, or make, the sort of weapons they do…. yet. Once the Prince unifies the planet though, we’ll be able to make the sort of changes that’ll get us there.”

David shook his head. “No, you don’t have the resources for that sort of equipment… yet. But, at the same time, you don’t need them yet either.”

Pulling forth a thick folder, he tossed it to the young man. “In the short term, a re-organization… grouping weaponry by type and caliber would ease some of the issues. I’ll leave it to you as to which would be easier, pulling the weapons and re-issuing them, or re-shuffling the currently equipped troops.”

David paused while the noble glanced at the folder. “In the mid to long-term, you DO have the capacity for some manufacturing. That folder contains the specifications for manufacture of two very simple sub-machine gun designs. The STEN gun and the PPsH-41… both designed for production under very limited conditions and with a minimum of technically adept workers. They are simple, both to manufacture and to use, durable, and well within the capacity of your industry to produce in the sort of numbers you will need, as is the ammunition needed to feed them...There’s also specs for a lever action carbine design in there… not something usually used for a military application, but rugged, simple to use and manufacture, and also well within manufacturing limits.”

David smiled. “Having a uniform equipment issue also greatly simplifies training, which again helps free up manpower which you can definitely use elsewhere.”

“And what about the current weapons we already have? What do we do with those?” The young noble looked puzzled. “Wouldn’t those go to waste?”

“No indeed.” David smiled. “As you re-equip and re-train each unit, the old weapons are taken back to base, cleaned and repaired, then stored, grouped by type. I assume your opponents use essentially the same weapons mix?”

Once he got a nod in return, David kept going. “Then, as you capture your enemy’s equipment, you again refit and classify it…. Once you have enough weapons of the same type to completely equip a garrison unit… with sufficient spares for replacements and parts… you use them to do so. That way, your garrison units within an area of operation, have a uniform equipment issue and supply, but you reserve your better weapons for front line duty. The same also applies to ammunition stores as well.”

The Noble looked irritated. “I thought you were just saying NOT to equip our units with those weapons?!”

David just continued on, ignoring the petulance. “I said, that you shouldn’t use them unless you could equip every one in the unit similarly. By doing it this way, you have everyone in the area equipped with the same weapons, which all use the same parts, the same ammunition, and everyone can be trained to the same standard, all at once. Otherwise, the hodge-podge of equipment you have now is a supply officer’s nightmare and can lead a training officer to alcoholism.”

“So why not use them on the front lines?” The young man stubbornly continued, clearly trying to score points. “If we can get enough of them.”

David smiled. “A couple reasons…. for one, the bolt action rifles your troops are using now, while capable weapons, are not an appreciable advantage against a similarly armed foe. In the sort of battles we can expect, primarily short ranged skirmishes and urban brawls, the bolt actions are both unwieldy and slow firing. Over time, the uniformity of equipment WOULD get results, if only because you’d be able to keep more of them supplied and functional than your opponent would. But, this wouldn’t be a quick process, and would be an attritional function, something you really cannot afford…. By upgrading to SMG’s or the Lever Action you would be taking a qualitative step forward as well as an organizational one. At the same time, for Garrison duties, you don’t NEED the newest and the best… just functional and sufficient for the task. Your Bolt-Actions are MORE than sufficient for that. It also allows you to concentrate your limited production capacity of the newer weapons into your lead units, the ones most in need of them.”

He chuckled softly. “It also keeps weapons your enemy knows how to use, and can keep fed and maintained, off the front lines and out of their hands, should one of your infantry units get taken out…. They’d get the new weapons, but not the parts or production specs, and they’d also need to keep them supplied with ammunition. All things which YOU would be set up to do, but they would not be. So at most they’d get a short term benefit. Then they’d either have to return to their old gear, or set up facilities to produce parts and ammunition. Again, that takes time… time which hopefully, they wouldn’t have.”

David thought for a moment. “Well, you SHOULD probably keep one or two of the better quality bolt actions in each unit.” He grinned like a shark. “Nothing quite like a good sniper to keep the enemy officer’s heads down… Besides, if the enemy force structure is anything like your current one, just one bullet would stop a squad in it’s tracks until another officer got there to tell them what to do… three or four and the whole platoon is out.” He glanced at the suddenly pale young man. “Of course, you may not want to teach that lesson to the serfs, eh?”

The shocked young man shook his head, clearly stunned by the suggestion.

David laughed and shrugged. “It WOULD be a way to cull the enemy leadership fairly effectively, but I guess the long term implications and consequences might be a bit much for you folks to swallow…. Ah well, not a requirement to win this little set-to, it’ll just be a little more expensive.”

Franklin Trustees Head Office
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
Novo Franklin, Deep Periphery
24 Jan 3079, 1030 hours local time


"Your people seem to be fitting in pretty well... so far." Trenchard, once again in an all black long coat and dark glasses commented leisurely as Zi Long sat himself before him - current Black Stars opposite a former. "I've ONLY heard of half a dozen incidents so far in over a week or so."

"We try our best not to trudge on your people... too much anyway." The Chinese man shrugged nonchalantly. "Most of the lower caste and serfs avoid us like the plague, and most of the nobles and educated view us like dirt. Only a couple of them actually tried to curry favours, believing that we're close to Prince Posavski. Heck, I found a less than decently dressed young lady in my room only last night." He snickered.

Trenchard raised an eyebrow. "I hope she was able to leave your compounds in reasonable shape?"

Zi Long laughed. "I sent her away..."

"C'mon Zhao. You know I know you more than that." The disbelief in Trenchard's words were obvious. "You'd NEVER refuse a girl."

Zi Long raised a hand to forestall the older man's comments. "I don't. Usually anyway. But I've seen dogs less hairy than this girl, and donkeys prettier." The twinkle in his eyes faded somewhat. "And I'll never allow myself or my unit to get involved in any of your local petty political games."

Slowly, Trenchard raised a hand and removed the shades before placing them on the table. For the first time since he met Trenchard, Zi Long set his eyes on those of his former colleague. While he had obviously tried to maintain his fitness and youth, lines of wrinkle running from the ends of his eyes told of the glare of suns he would have stared into, and hardness in life. If he felt startled by the blindness of Trenchard's right eye, which had a coat of greyish blue over them, he showed no sign.

"Remember that not everyone is pleased about the Prince and the Franklin Trustee's decision to bring in outside help." Trenchard remarked. "And also that not everyone here in Carantania Principality feel a strong allegiance to the Prince."

"Of course not." Zi Long replied without emotion. "Contrary to what many believe, the politics in the Periphery is not much different than that of the Inner Sphere. In fact, I would say that on many Periphery worlds and states, the political undercurrent and status are much more dangerous, volatile and unstable than that of any Inner Sphere one, or at least are a miniature version of the latter."

Trenchard nodded. "With over fifty factions on Novo Franklin, I would say your former assessment would be more accurate. We're having our own version of the Succession Wars down here. Main difference being that we don't have as much high tech weapons than the Great Houses do."

"A rusty blade and a revolver can still kill as easily as the most high tech PPC or laser." Zi Long intoned. "Still, you're right, the situation here is like a mini soap opera that reflects that of the Inner Sphere." He smiled. "So, I didn't think you asked me in to talk about politics. Why am I here?"

Trenchard smiled back. "As you've noticed, not everyone is convinced that it was all that necessary to bring you people in. Mostly, its those parties that had to foot a substantial portion of your bills."

"I'm not surprised." The Chinese man replied pleasantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Well, since Ten-Bears correctly, and bluntly informed the Prince and the Franklin Trustees that our own forces would be unable to hold what we might be able to conquer, I was thinking that other than training up our nobles, officers and selected NCOs, I'd like to see if we can sway some of our opponents over to our side."

Zi Long raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'd like you to raze one of the strongest opposing faction who's holding is incidentally rather close by to ours."

Zi Long kept quiet for a while. "Razing a holding would mean destroying all civilian property and infrastructure other than their military?"

"Not TOTALLY." Trenchard coughed. "We'd like to be able to use their facilities rather than spend resources rebuilding. After all, we've spent quite a fortune hiring you people..."

"I know. You've been reminding me at every corner of that fact." Zi Long scowled. "What's the reason for you holding back anyway?"

The former Black Stars coughed uncomfortably again. "Er... while we have the best ground forces on Novo Franklin, despite it being considered less than third grade compared to more other military - as Ten-Bears pointed out, we don't have much in the way of aerial support. They've managed to thwart our attacks previously rather well with the support of an air company of attack helos."

"Let me guess... House Latihan in the Principality of Anjuran?"

Trenchard could not hide his surprise. "How did you..."

Zi Long held up a hand. "We've done our intel gathering remember? The fact that no one, not even your Carantania Principality had any sort of aerial or sub-space assets meant that we have been able to deploy our DropShip for orbital surveillance. It's one of the few holdings, nearby anyway, that had some sort of airfield. And our assessments place them as having a rather competent military - comparative speaking of course." He smiled. "So I guess what constitutes to 'skirmish with other lords to increase the holdings of the principality' as per the contract wouldn't be too far off. Skirmishing for us, major invasion for them."

"Of course." Trenchard growled. He was tired of Zhao and Ten-Bears rubbing that into his face since their arrival. While Trenchard has attained the title of Lordship, he still started out as an outsider. Many of the "true" Novo Franklin natives still felt that the only reason the Black Stars were hired was because he was once a part of the mercenary outfit, and he'll pocket a sizable percentage of their over inflated earnings.

"We can blow them away, rather easily too I believe." Zi Long stroked his chin, deep in thought. "But we can't do this forever. You would have read the reports yes? Even if we eliminate all opposition on Novo Franklin, you won't have the ability to govern and control them all."

"Yes, yes, I've read your reports." Trenchard cut in irritably. He actually agreed to most of what the Black Stars had reported. Hell, those very same reasons were what condemned his efforts from bringing more of Novo Franklin under the thumb of House Posavski. "We've already accepted that fact that we might need to select some of our best lower caste people and soldiers for promotion to... NCOs and administrators." Speaking out the facts seemed to actually cause physical pain to Trenchard. Zi Long kept his calm. "No women though, at least for now. That would be going way too far and too fast for us."Maybe the old dog had been submerged in the culture, customs and environment of Novo Franklin for too long for his own good.

"So, rather than shooting everyone with a drop of Latihan blood in their vein, why not install one or two of them back in power? Let the conquered holding be your vassal." Zi Long looked at Trenchard for his response. To his surprise, there was not so much of a ripple of shock or scepticism registered. Instead, the Posavski retainer & spokesman for the Franklin Trustees mirrored Zi Long's actions and started to stroke his chin as well.

"You know, I don't know why we haven't thought of it before." He started, before looking up sharply at Zi Long. "No smart ass comments from you please."

The Black Stars officer raised his hands in surrender. "I wasn't thinking of any."

"Yeah, right." Trenchard replied. "I'll consider this a bit, discuss with some of our people, and maybe propose it to the Prince. In the mean time, you might want to get your people ready."

Zi Long stood from his seat. "I will. I would also like to have some of my people select some of yours from the Carantania Guards along as well. As observer as well as understudy the proper ways to fight."

Trenchard waved his hands at Zi Long absently. "Sure, go ahead. You can even request for reinforcements from the Guards if you need. Provided that there are enough for security of Campus Carinthia."

Nodding, Zi Long left the office and headed back to his own.

As the pony tailed mercenary officer left the room, Trenchard picked up the phone on his desk and dialled a pre-saved number. The other end rang for only once before it was picked up. "How did it go?"

"I've convinced them to do it." Trenchard replied simply, though his eyes were downcast.

The other voice continued smoothly. "Good. Get General O’ Connor to mobilize the Guards - quietly. Once the Black Stars set off, they'll move out as well."

Trenchard hesitated for a while. "Do we really need to do this?"

The voice paused for a while before replying. "I understand how you feel Lord Trenchard, especially when most of the nobles still treat you as an outsider despite your contributions and sacrifices over the years. It is precisely because of this that this HAS to be done."

"But we'll be losing precious people and resources!" Trenchard started to protest before biting back his lips. He have had this argument more times than he could remember, and he knew he could never win.

"I know the Black Stars' reports were spot on and more accurate that you and I cared to admit." The voice continued, as if uninterrupted. "We have to open the eyes of the nobles to the truth if we are to achieve what we wanted to. If we have to spill some of their blood as well as that of their serfs... so be it."

Both man paused, as the seconds ticked on uncomfortably. "Have my orders passed on Alexi. You know there is no other ways."

------

Black Star Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
24 Jan 3079, 1400 hours local time


Zi Long rubbed the bridge of his nose, willing the throbbing in his head to go away. For once, the discomfort was not because of excessive amounts of consumed alcohol. The contract here on Novo Franklin wasn't turning out as useful as it had initially looked. Training up the Carantania Guards itself was proving difficult due to the large number of incompetent officers, and the even larger number of uneducated soldiers they command. There was no middle rank officers or non-comms to speak of at all. Zi Long was seriously thinking that House Posavski had came into power because it had more bodies to sacrifice using the tactics of human waves. If they were to transform the Carantania Guards into a veritable fighting force, they would have to spend AT LEAST years revamping their entire logistics and manpower system. Not to mention their mentality. Given the period stated in the contract, Zi Long was not sure how much they would be able to accomplish in the half a year they would be stationed here on the Deep Periphery world.

Skirmishing to enlarge the holdings of the Carantania Principality was a rather open ended objective as well. Based on the hardware they have, and the training, the military of the other holdings ranked even lower in the eyes of Zi Long and David. If the Black Stars wanted to, they could easily take on half a dozen holdings quickly. On the other hand, unless the Prince did something about his support and human resource infrastructure, these would easily be lost.

An example would be the Principality of Anjuran and its ruling House Latihan. While not being any much better than the Carantania Guards, and definitely short in the department of numbers, they had held up well so far. The main reason was that they have had the saving grace of being supported by an air company of half a dozen of what Trenchard had termed "attack helos". Despite being a rag tag mix of military and civilian grade VTOLs with weapons installed, they had proved to be more than capable of driving away several Carantania advances, the last of which resulted in the destruction of two of the Guards' BattleMechs.

He flipped through the brief info on their military organization.

Anjuran Militia

BattleMech Force:
JVN-10N Javelin
STG-3R Stinger

VTOL Force:
Warrior H-7 Attach Helicopter
Warrior H-7 Attach Helicopter
Wind Walker WW-07 (Civilian helicopter armed with a singe Machine gun and a single two shot Short Range Missile Launcher)
Wind Walker WW-07 (Civilian helicopter armed with a single five shot Long Range Missile Launcher)
Little Bird LB-802 (Civilian helicopter armed with a single Machine gun and a ten shot Rocket Launcher)
Little Bird LB-802 (Civilian helicopter armed with a single Machine gun and a ten shot Rocket Launcher)

Combat Vehicle Force:
SRM Carrier
SRM Carrier
LRM launchers mounted on a 15 ton truck
LRM launchers mounted on a 15 ton truck

Infantry Force:
6 Company of foot infantry equipped with mixed small arms and support weapons

Wind Walker VTOL

In addition, like their VTOL force, there were numerous other war machines unaccounted for. Overland orbital flybys had reported that there were sightings of a number of IndustrialMechs that worked the various farmsteads and mines of the Anjuran Principality holdings. In times of war, these would no doubt receive the same modification treatment that the Wind Walker and Little Bird VTOLs got. Similarly, quite a number of dumper trucks and transports had been modified as APCs with armour plates welded around their bodies, while several all terrain vehicles had been used as armed scout with support weapons slapped on.


Little Bird VTOL

Zi Long was confident that James and his Trouble Inc. would be more than capable of handling those of the Anjuran Militia, while their ground forces could counter that of their opponents. However, he questioned the reasoning behind the mercenary's attack on the Principality. Was Trenchard telling the truth? Does he really need our victory and success to prove himself and our own worth?

Discarding that thought, Zi Long called up the aerial photos of Principality of Anjuran. It was not a big area, and the city - which was actually more of a township, was the only notable collection of structures. This being Novo Franklin, Zi Long was not surprised that a moot had been dug around the ferro concrete walls surrounding the city. With VTOLs not needing a runway to take off, a small air base with a couple of equally small buildings had been set up, most likely as storage for the half dozen birds, as well as fuel, spare parts and ammunition.

The pair of light BattleMechs were also stationed within the air base itself, occupying a large service depot that previously housed a full lance of 'Mechs. At least a pair of company worth of soldiers made use of the spare bay space as their quarters presently. With the others scattered around the town to man sentry towers, the main entrance, petrol the wall ramparts, streets, and most likely within the large miniature fort where House Latihan holds court. A single main entrance to the town was guarded by a pair of SRM carriers, while half a kilometer further down, a pair of trucks converted to carry long range missile launchers were entrenched to shower their deadly cargo on anyone who approached. Other than roaming the areas around their holdings, the Anjuran Militia also deployed a number of what the Carantania Guards had disparagingly nicknamed as "Pip Squeak" ATVs around the town. Didn't stop them from kickin' your ass though, did they?


"Pip Squeak" ATV

The town was compact and easily defensible with its single entrance and narrow streets. In fact, only a single route would allow the passage of BattleMechs, large combat vehicles like the tanks in the Black Stars's ranks, and even the Militia's own vehicles to travel easily through. That road led from the main entrance to the Latihan Fort, and then away to the military base nearby. Zi Long doubted the other buildings would be strong enough for jump capable 'Mechs to travel on, even light ones. Still, the vehicles like his own Morningstar, as well as the Zhukov and Pos might actually be able to drive THROUGH the buildings.

And of course, James and his team of VTOLs would give the defenders as much trouble as they did to the Carantania Guards. Dealing death from the skies, they could easily pick out defending forces as easily as the Militia's own VTOLs took out attackers. The most worrisome enemy in an urban fight - snipers, could be dealt with by ramming through the building they occupied - if need be.

The most troublesome factor might be taking out of the fort itself. While they could blast it to nothing more than rubble, Zi Long wanted to prove to Trenchard and the Carantania nobles that they could still engage their defeated foes to viably maintain and expand their holdings. The skills and tenacity of Lieutenants Conti and Gallagher would have to be called on again.

Zi Long sighed as he patched through to David. Whatever the hidden agenda of their employers, the Black Stars have a small campaign to plan, and as much as he felt uneasy about it, it would be an operation that was stated as part of their contract.

David and himself had proposed tearing down and restructuring their entire system, and Zi Long had repeatedly proposed that rather than carrying out systematic genocide, the Prince actually reinstalls defeated nobles to run their holdings which would become vassals under him. Also, by defeating one of their stronger contenders, some of the weaker one might surrender themselves.

For reasons unknown, the Prince had so far seemed reluctant to accept their proposals. This might be the start to him and his cohort of nobles of what was required, as painful as it might be for them.

Too bad for you, my Princeling. No one ever said change will always be pleasant.

Briefing Room #2
Government House, Carantania
Novo Franklin, Deep Periphery
26 Jan. 3078, 1400 Hours Local Time

David just laughed at the young nobleman. "I did not stutter. The plans as you outlined to me are a complete fantasy.... I've looked at your "War stocks"... you barely have enough fuel and food for current operations, much less offensive ops. Ammunition supply is a joke, you could MAYBE give each unit enough for three days operations when you should have at LEAST enough for a month's worth of heavy combat.... and that doesn't count what you'll need for training use in the run-up! But you know what? That doesn't matter as much as the next part.... even if you COULD come up with enough supplies, You don't have enough reliable transport to get them to the front! Damnit, supplies you can't use are useless!"

As he tossed a bundle of files down in front of the angry young man, he kept on remorselessly. "Leaving aside the condition and size of your military, which we discussed the other day, there is the little matter of infrastructure." As he spoke, he pulled file after file from the stack and set them down in order. "First of all, you don't have either the communication or transportation base to support a worldwide unity government. At BEST, with the centralized command model you prefer, you could effectively control no more than one quarter of this continent, much less the rest of the planet. So while you COULD conquer, and run out all the other noble families... In less than a year, you'd be right back where you are now, only with the whole planet just that much weaker, and sliding that much more into darkness."

David smiled broadly, "As a matter of fact, your policies of keeping the serfs ignorant are working against being able to effectively rule. While the planet has an overall population capable of supporting and maintaining the sort of infrastructure you would require, you don't have the technological capability, much less the trained manpower to build, then maintain, the needed structure. Hell, even if you put ALL of your available nobles to such a task, you don't have enough! Your industrial base is a dream on anything approaching the sort of scales you'd need, and you've no way to support it anyway. Your mines aren't productive enough, run as they are.... not that you have the refining plants.. or the heavy transport needed to move the ore and finished metals. Hell, even if you got enough manpower together in one spot, you couldn't feed them all! Low-Tech agrarian works pretty damned good for a small village, but not for a nation, and certainly not for a world government!"

David shook his head at the sheer arrogant stupidity of it all. "Look, we're mercenaries, we go where we're hired to go, kill people and break things.... If your Prince REALLY wants to break Novo Franklin we can do that for him. If he wants to kill his neighbours and burn down their houses, we can do that too. We CAN do it.... but what we can't do, is change reality. And right now, the reality is, that Novo Franklin CANNOT be unified and ruled the way you outline. If the Prince tries, all he'll accomplish is to get a lot of people killed and waste a lot of resources he could probably use elsewhere. He's the Hiring Authority on this job.... If he still wants to go for it, we will, but he should have no illusions as to what he's buying. We can go out and get him his ten gallons of loose sand.... much luck to him trying to hold it! But if he's serious about wanting to unify the planet... REALLY serious.... then he needs to be thinking long term... as in generations long term." David shrugged. IF he works at it, and gets lucky... his Grandson might be able to assume a unified throne."

Posavski Training Fields
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
29 Jan 3079, 15:00 hours local time

David smiled as he watched Nikita sweat the local infantry company. She and Glen had taken to “Weeding out the dross” with a will.

“One, two, three four!” Nikita chanted, keeping time as the platoon in front of her struggled to keep up with the brutal pace she set. As David watched, one of the pudgier members of the unit dropped to the ground wheezing and fighting for breath.

From the sidelines, a couple of the Black Star’s medics jogged over and quickly examined the man.

After just a few moments of looking him over and listening to him breath, the medics slapped an oxygen mask on him and started to drag him away from the rest of the platoon.

David drifted over to where Sparks was taking notes, arriving just in time to hear the medic’s report.

“Number twenty-six is scratched… Weight and what sounds like asthma.”

Sparks nodded, “Got it.”

David grinned. “Nikita having fun is she?”

Sparks laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say Fun…. she keeps muttering things about purging gene-lines and inbreeding, but she’s certainly keeping that grin on her face as she runs them.”

“Any problems with the local officers?” David asked quietly.

“No Sir, not after the first one.” Sparks said softly. “Only took one of them challenging Nikita to a duel before the others got the message.”

David shook his head. The man had been warned, and given several opportunities to apologize and back down, but had not done so. Nikita had selected blades as the weapons for the duel and had gutted the local noble like a trout in less time than it took to relate.

David shrugged, at least the local officers, (if you could call them that) were no longer actively fighting against what the Black Stars were trying to accomplish. They weren’t actually PARTICIPATING mind you, but they weren’t trying to interfere either.

“Any problems with the troops themselves?” David moved on in his questions.

“Not really, Sir.” Sparks kept an eye on the field as he spoke, gesturing to the side, where the Black Star Infantry were doing their own calisthenics, just as brutal and gruelling as what Nikita was putting the local force through, only faster and with none of the sloppiness that marked the Militia forces. “Helps that our infantry are showing them what REAL troops look like, and doing all the same things they are… First couple of days were a bit rough… Nikita had to make a couple examples to let them know that they’d be held to a much higher standard of discipline than they were used to.” He pointed down to the end of the field, where two bodies hung swinging in the breeze.

David shrugged. “We told them when we took over that they’d be under our rules of conduct… even made sure to read them out in formation so they’d know what they were. Stupid bastards didn’t think we were serious.” He shook his head. “Anyone that would abuse the locals and rape a serf in his own territory would certainly do even worse on enemy ground… If were gonna take territory that the Prince wants to have a hope in hell of keeping, we can’t be having the troops committing atrocities and setting a match to things before we even get started.”

David turned to face Sparks. “You might want to remember that, should you ever be in the position to lead troops. Captured territory ALWAYS has people that want to take it back, but most of the time the serfs and laborers don’t particularly care WHO is in charge, so long as they get enough to eat, and they aren’t being abused. Abuse them or especially their families, and they’ll rise up to fight you. You have to be firm with them, but there’s a difference between firm and being a monster. If you let your troops run wild in a captured town, you are not only handing your enemy a bunch of motivated troops… Troops driven by hate for you and all you represent, but you’ll also have a harder time later, when you try to take any other town. They’ll have heard about how you treat your defeated foes you see, and fight all that much harder. No point in surrender if your enemy will just kill you anyway, is there?”

He waved over towards where the local platoon struggled through the next set of exercises. “We’re working uphill with this set of troops… They’ve been let run free too long, and we’ve got to UN-train them before we can teach them anything. Part of that is making sure they take the lessons seriously.”

He shrugged. “And once we get out in the field, we’ll probably have to set a few more lessons. No matter how much we tell them, there’ll always be a few who either don’t believe it, or who get caught up in how things have always been done.” He grinned like a shark. “For that matter, I expect more than a few of the local officers didn’t pay that much attention either. I expect they’ll be a bit shocked when their actions have consequences.”

David stretched and turned back to face Sparks once more. “Once Nikita is finished here, let her know that its looking like an operation is coming up… plan for the 5th of Feb, give or take a day or two.”

Posavski Training Fields
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality


Nikita had stripped down for her training exercises, clad only in a black tank top that left her heavily scarred arms bare, her black BDU pants, and her ever present face scarf. To the shock of many of the Stars, she had lowered it so her entire face was visible, including the scorpion tattoo and the rather nasty healing scars on her face. It took a noble getting killed, two morons getting castrated then hung, and a couple heads knocked together before they would view a mere 'female' as a commanding officer.

After that, it was just a matter of running them to exhaustion, then kicking them back up so they could run some more. “Come on you slugs! My sibko could out perform you while reciting the Remembrance at the tops of their lungs without breaking a sweat! MOVE IT!”

She had spent the past week weeding out the weak and the physically unable. Each person was given one chance to rebel and had received the response they deserved. Most had fallen into line while the one or two stubborn ones had been given disciplinary exercises... loaded down with fifty pounds of rocks in their backpacks.

Finally calling a halt near where the Stars were working out. No one dared move out of formation, but several did go to their knees, dripping sweat and breathing hard.

Pointing at the fit and healthy men and women of the Black Star company working together like a well oiled machine. “Look at them! They have earned the right to be called Infantry. They have earned the right to be called Tankers or Mech Warriors! YOU have earned NOTHING! You have LEARNED Nothing!”

Glen had, by this time, brought his panting cadre up to the barrier as well. A quick glance showed they'd lost 3 more to the weed out. Glaring at each one in turn until they dropped their eyes, she nodded. “That is it, look at the floor. You have not even earned the right to bother looking at them. I will tell you when you are good enough to look..”

One man looked up and glared at her before Glen popped him on the back of the head with a large hand, then dragged him out of formation by the scruff of his neck and proceeded to 'instruct' the young man on how he is supposed to follow orders. The rest of his cadre winced and several heads seem to have turtled down so they rested on the shoulders. Almost as if by doing so, they'd not be noticed.

Pacing up and down the lines of both groups, she began again. At the end of the third hour, she finally allowed them to rest. A few smiles of relief appeared until she dashed their hopes of a free day. Moving slowly to the front of the two groups. “When you arrive at your new barracks.” She pointed at the two thin walled tents, erected off to one side. You will find that your belongings have been taken from you.” She held up a hand and stopped any protests before they even got started. “Each person's belongings have been catalogued and stored under lock and key, each has his own box of things. But from now on, you will dress alike. You will act alike, and you will train alike.”

Glen moved into view with a large easel which had a large board attached. Handing her an envelope, he stood back at attention. Turning to the men, she upended the envelope into a bag and shook it around. “Glen will now go down the row. You are to stick your hand into that bag and pick up one square of paper and one only.”

As each man nervously took a square, Sparky came up beside her and whispered in her ear. Nodding, she murmured, “I need you here for a second.”

Turning to the people who each had a white square folded in half and taped together. “Okay, you may now open them. When you do, you will find a color. That will be your group. Find your group and reform.”

It took a bit of shuffling and groans as one group got a disgustingly neon pink square while the other got a rather nauseating lavender color. Once they got themselves sorted out, she glared them into silence. “Inside each tent, you will find your new uniforms, including underwear. Take them and yourselves to the new shower setup outside and scrub the filth of your previous lives from your bodies. Only then will you be allowed to have your anticipated free time.”

Some started to leave immediately. “Where are you going?” she growled.

One spoke up.. “I.. I mean we, I mean..”

The nasty smile on her face had every one holding a pink card cringe. “Glen, take the purple crew to their quarters. Get Raze to take over, then get Valkrie to come in. She will keep these children in line.”

Once the other group was out of range, she growled. “Get. Back. In. Formation.”

As if teleported, they zipped back into line. Nikita looked over the lot. “You will never EVER break formation unless I formally dismiss you. If one of you breaks the rules, all of you suffer the penalty. Do you understand me?”

A bit of grumbling ensued.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” Her bellowing voice scared the birds in what few trees there were.

“YES MA'AM” came the reply.

“I am not a Ma'am. I am not a Lady, I am not anything! You will address me as Trainer. Any person giving commands to you is now your Trainer. First and last words out of your mouth is Trainer. Do you understand me?”

It took a few tries, but eventually all of them got the idea. “Pink Troop. Dismissed.”

By that time, Valkrie, came up laughing. “By th'gods woman. Pink? I like it. Now git. David's waitin with the rest of your mangy butts.” Running after the group, she quickly restored order and got them back into line.

A half hour later, and the scarf back in place, she was joining the group in David's office, dressed for battle. “You wanted to see us, Sir?”

Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
29 Jan 3079, 18:00 hours local time


Zi Long looked up from the maps that the Event Horizon had shot from orbit, as did David as Nikita walked into the room. Despite her lithe figure, augmented by her tight fitting suit, the Black Stars officer had never had fantasies about one of the very few Clanners he had ever worked with. It was not because of the scars on her face, nor those on her arms. It was just that despite his reputation, Zi Long had always made it a point of separating family and vice. One would never dream of sleeping with one's own blood sister would they? Not unless you're really sick in the head, or maybe you're from the Clans. Zi Long had heard that in what the Clans call sikbo, sexual indulgence was nearly as inconsequential as a pat on the back. Still, Zi Long wasn't ready to test our new ideas, not of this magnitude anyways.

"Glad we can pry you away from kickin' Carantania asses Nikita." Zi Long grinned at the newcomer. Next to the pair, James was pouring through specs and estimated capabilities of a pair of unfamiliar helicopters. Several other maps and bird's eye view shorts, as well as reconnaissance photos, most likely taken by the Warriors and newly purchased Ferets of James' Trouble Inc. It might be due to the opposition they had encountered so far, or due to the skills and abilities of his people, maybe a combination of both, but Zi Long had never felt as assured of the contributions of VTOLs as that generated by James and his Trouble Inc.

Lantern and his nippy squad of Nighthawk Battle Armour on Intruder BA motorbikes were the only other Black Stars sub-unit on Novo Franklin that was not present. With intelligence on their targets limited due to the lack of data gathering attempts previously by the Carantania Guards, Zi Long had sent the Jack-O-Lanterns out to the fields to set up observation posts around Principality of Anjuran. Despite Markus expressing utmost confidence in taking out some of the Pip Squeak ATVs they've spotted, Zi Long had rejected his request to do so, so as not to alert the Anjurans of their impending attack.

The Jack-O-Lanterns had since managed to filter in timing of guard changes, sent back the earlier reports on enemy equipment and quality. In addition, Markus had reported that other than the pair of 'Mechs, the lance of vehicles, infantry, ATVs and helicopters, at least three IndustrialMechs had been sighted as well, modified to carry weapons. Essentially LM1/C Lumberjack IndustrialMechs, these were ancient sixty ton predecessors to the latest generation of LM4/C designs which were commonly found on Inner Sphere and well to do Periphery worlds where agriculture and forestry were primary activities. According to Markus's reports, these machines mounted support weapons ranging from support particle projectile cannons to light machine guns and rocket launcher pods. He added in his report that he doubted the roughly welded on steel plates on top of the original industrial grade plasteel could withstand more than two shots from BattleMech grade weapons.

Combining aerial and orbital photos, as well as Markus's reports, Zi Long and David had pieced together the layout of the Anjuran township. The Anjuran Fort laid on the other side of a mountain pass. To get through the pass, an attacking force would have to get past the town and the enemy airbase is on the opposite side of the town as well. That was the main reason why the Posavski forces have not been able to get to them before now - the town defenses slowed them up long enough for the VTOLs to get in the air, and unleash their rain of death onto the ground bound attackers.

The enemy 'Mechs and vehicles had been reportedly been kept at the Fort. While common practise, it meant that the limited movement and transport capabilities offered by the narrow streets would hugely delay their response time to an attack on the airbase. "Maybe twenty minutes to a half-hour if they are lucky." David had estimated. "This has not been an issue before, because Posavski forces don't include VTOLs or other aerial support, and the mountains prevent conventional forces from bypassing the town and pass."

Zi Long smiled as he looked at James and the pair of infantry officers in the room. "We're gonna take away their main advantage in our first operation. We're going for their birds."

David nodded. "Here is what we'll do: Lockheart takes his VTOL's and the Infantry and does a night air-mobile raid on the airbase. We can take them out easily, and it'd be all the more easier to hit them and take the entire Anjuran Militia down later."

"Actually, we might NOT need to destroy the VTOLs." James suggested as he looked at the photos of the Wind Walker and Little Bird laid out on the table, as well as that of a pair of Warrior attack helicopters not very unlike the ones he had under his own command. "It would be nice to steal them right then, but we don't have the pilots. So, the infantry, after running off or killing the guards, steals the cyclic sticks out of the grounded birds."

"The what?" Lieutenant Conti asked, reflecting the slightly baffled looks of Gallagher, his fellow infantry officer, as well as Nikita, David and Zi Long.

James smiled. "This is fast, simple to do - six bolts and two quick-disconnect wire bundles, and likely to ground the birds for an extended period. While the locals are probably capable of the repairs, do they have the parts? I doubt it. Even here in within the Black Stars, despite us being one of the best technically supported unit around, we do NOT carry replacement sticks on a regular basis. They RARELY break, and are expensive, so why have them if you are 99.5% likely to never need them?" He shrugged. "Done right, it is a fairly low risk operation with the potential for a big payoff. Once we take out the town/keep and come back for the airbase, we just re-install the stolen cyclics."

"Instant salvage." Zi Long's grin mirrored that of the helo sub-unit commander.

"I most likely wouldn't want to keep any of those birds though." James corrected quickly as he pointed at the photos. "Most of them are held together by spit and bile. But I'm sure we can make some sort of... arrangements with our employers. Heck, I'd even offer to train a couple of their pilots - for a price of course."

"Of course." David and Zi Long shared the same knowing smile.

The Black Stars Captain straightened up and looked at the various sub-unit commanders in the room. "Right than people. We'll have Lantern and his BA continue to keep tabs on our target. James, get your people ready over the next couple of days so that they're as comfortable as possible flying nap of earth and at night. Select a few of our techs who would know what to do against the enemy VTOLs. Conti, Gallagher, get ready your people, you'll be doing bodyguard duty again, this time for the techs. You have some time, you might as well make sure that they get used to the possibility of the need to use firearms and running with a helmet and body armour."

"We'll move in on the 5th, hit their air base, disable their birds, than move out." Zi Long looked back at the maps. "Stand by to bomb craters on the main road leading from the Fort to the air base. We'll bomb it only if they mobilize faster than we expect. We'll need the road for our own advance and attack later."

"What about Lantern and his people?" James asked.

"They'll observe the defenders' response time and procedures." David announced. "It'll make planning for the next phase of our attack easier."

"Indeed." Zi Long nodded. "Do not underestimate our opponents people, despite what we all know and had been told. Expect them to fight tenaciously and with skill. If they're less than what we expect, good for us. But I do not want complacency to cause death among our own. Make it fast, sharp, and painful for our friends. If we do this right, we might save ourselves a lot of fighting."

"And a lot of dying."

Listening to the plan of operations, Nikita stepped forward to look over the terrain photos and the placement of buildings. Quietly she examined each one while listening to David and Yang Zhi talk.

“Sir, kicking these freeborn imbeciles into shape is going to be more than just physical work. I have to use Iconography to get them to understand what they need to do. We cannot use that in the middle of combat. These men are not capable of reading or writing.” She scrubbed her short hair with a gloved hand. “To use them as they are now would be suicide. I have Valkrie and one other keeping an eye on them. If we were in clan space, they would be sent out as Solhama.”

One particular picture caught her eye and, using a finger, traced a blue line up through up to the tower. A quick check of the icons showed the water supply leading to the barracks, and everywhere else in the compound. A truly evil shine lit her eyes as she left her finger on the Tower.

“Sir. A couple suggestions if I may? There are two ways to keep the enemy occupied enough to get you in, and out of the compound with a minimal loss of lives.” Laughing darkly, she handed the print to one of the techs, who copied it and put it up on the main wall screen. Walking over to it, she chuckled. “This... is the water supply line that runs into the area where you wanted to get into, yes?”

Her finger traced the line from it's source into the compound, then over the guard barracks. “Now, one of my particular talents is herbs. Healing, Hallucinogenics, even poisons but I hesitate to use that last one for anything except making an antidote.” Her eyes lit up with glee. “I have a certain recipe that is given to those whom have a need to be .. 'cleansed'.” she chuckles. “It is a fast acting recipe that will make most of them wish they were dead, but it will keep them occupied for several hours.”

Handing the tech the other one to repeat the process. “Other than that, my second suggestion would be to make a strong showing of force beyond the range of their weaponry. Basically just a show that would make them think they would soon be under attack, have your men act like panicked farmers or something along those lines and I think we would be able to distract them.”

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she looked up at the vaulted ceiling. How the ferret had gotten up there, she would never know, but her little thief had gained a small nesting area just above a red blinking light. The rest of the object was camouflaged to look like the rest of the room” Turning, she looked at David, then at Yang. “We have a problem.”

Stepping out of viewing range, she lifted up her com unit. “Sparky, Wheels. Command center, asap.”

Within minutes of their arrival, she pointed it out. “Find whoever is on the other end of the line and get my ferret back.”

Sparky set to work. Like a squirrel, he got up to the animal and gently dropped him into Nikita's waiting arms. The rom kid attached a device to the blinking red thing and smiled quietly, giving her a thumbs up. “Now what?”

Wheels cracked her knuckles and smiled. “Can I?”

Nikita nodded. “Bring them here.”

A few moments later, the Liaison was hustled into the command center, blushing furiously. “How? Why? What?” Then his eyes fell to the equipment on the table... and he shut his mouth.

Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
3 Feb 3079, 13:00 hours local time

"…Let’s run that sim again. This time if you break fifteen meters "Bo Peep" you will be running extra PT with "Slim" over there. " James

"Bremmerhof that was your fifth crash this morning!" James

"Seventh." Bremmerhof

"What?" James

"It was my seventh, I crashed twice before you got here boss." Bremmerhof

James just shook his head and went back to the sim console. Bremmerhof dropped his head for a moment and turned back to the simulator.

"Alright ‘Pinski let’s do’er again!" Bremmerhof

"Haven’t’ you had enough of crashes yet you crazy Bastard?" Kapinski

Bremmerhof just gave Kapinski a snarl. Truth was he was already a little tired, definitely irritable, and a little envious of Buzzsaw’s flying skills. She had only crashed twice, but she was running at almost twice the fifty kilometers per hour the rest were training at. Of course she still had that kid in a candy store smile plastered on her face. That chick loved her flying. The truth was, just like every other pilot, he would rather crash one hundred times here versus even once out there. The whole reason for simulators was to allow the pilot to practice without their screw ups being life ending.

"Just fire this bitch up again." Bremmerhof

Bremmerhof snugged his helmet down and attached the chin strap. He slid into the simulator cockpit, yet again, and attached the seat restraints. Then he hit the cockpit close button just like he would have if this was his actual bird. And started flipping the buttons and switched as the simulation prepared to start again.

James back at the master console watched as "Orville" augered in. A couple minutes later Rhicter did the same. "Shakes" made it 80% of the way through the simulation before she missed a turn, pulled up, missing the canyon lip and right into a cottonwood. Of course she was running almost 10kph under speed. James couldn’t say much, he had put in his simulator time for the day before dawn. He hadn’t done much better. 63% was as far as he was able to make it. Hawk was doing better, as he should, he was pushing 85%.

The simulator runs of the morning were the canyon runs through the dry river bed. The evening runs were the compound assault. Those had gone almost the complete reverse of the morning runs. They had no problem flying the valley and hitting the compound. The Ferret pilots were doing wonders on being able to get it in on the ground in record time. Fifteen seconds after the second volley of missiles fire and they were on the ground. Just seconds after the third volley of missiles hit, those were fragmentation missiles, meant to shred any infantry that might be on the ground.

On top of the morning and evening sims, James and Bremmerhof were putting in live training of dropping practice bombs onto their improvised bombing range. They had six 10 meter circles made of rocks out in a clearing.

<time break 3 hrs>
17:00hrs

For the last two days they had been taking turns of dropping their bombs on the targets. James was working hard to correct for his mostly short drops. Bremmerhof had a tendency to pull up on the stick a second before hitting the release. This caused his drops to go a little over. This morning the lead tech came over and tinkered with Bremmerhof’s bombsight. The bomb sights were nothing more than two sets of crosshairs, with one rotated 45 degrees off vertical and a short connector rod between them, affixed to the Perspex.

Today’s bombing practice was better. James managed to put his bombs in the circle about 50% of the time today. Bremmerhof, on the other hand was doing a lot better. He was running at about 86% today. James watched as Bremmerhof’s last bomb made an almost dead center hit in the target ring.

"Ten ring! Alright Bremmerhof, let’s head for the barn. Today’s been a good day." James

"Affirmative. Coming about for the barn." Bremmerhof

After they had landed James walked over to the lead tech that was watching the tech crew that went to inspect the freshly returned heloes, from the hangar entrance. He broke his gaze at the techs to look at James as he approached.

"Today’s run went a lot better, Bremmerhof’s accuracy was way up today. I was curious what modifications you made to his sight." James

"Well, my family loves golf, Grandad shot a 4 handicap, dad had a 2 to 3 handicap depending on the course. I’m about two under myself. My uncle, well he was a little different. He didn’t put as much effort into it, but he gave me some great advice though on my first day out with the men. We were about to tee off on the 5th, and I had been slicing the ball on every hole so far and was getting seriously depressed. He told me you can spend the 80+ hours to fix that slice anytime, but you should have some fun today. So what I suggest you do, for today is go with it." Masterson

"Well I wasn’t sure what he meant but he explained it. You got a slice, yeah, but you have some good distance too. So just adjust your stance a little like this, he turned me about 15 degrees off perpendicular, and said "Give’r a try now. Well would you believe I put that thing right down the center of the fairway?" Masterson

"I’m not sure I follow" James

"He likes to pull just as he drops. So all I did was adjust his sight a little short. So when he pulls back he is putting it back on target as he toggles it off the rack. You guys have a mission shortly, which means you don’t have a lot of time to fix all your bad habits. So I figured you would want get good enough to do the job and worry about getting it right later, when you have more time." Masterson

James just stood there listening to the tech tell him he had taken a short cut to get the performance James needed to get the job done. James had been worried whether everyone would be ready in time. He had felt that the bombing portion would be ok after seeing today’s results. When the man was right he was right. James needed the performance, and they didn’t have the necessary time train up for it. The time that could be saved here was definitely needed on the flight simulation, and Masterson was also correct that there would be more time later to do it right. Of course it would take even more time to untrain the bad habits. Tradeoffs, it was about tradeoffs.

Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
4 Feb 3079, 22:30 hours local time

David leaned back in his chair and looked over at Zhao and Trenchard. “Well, that’s it then… Lockheart’s assault goes in just about 6 hours. They should arrive at the Anjuran Airstrip right around zero-four-thirty AM.”

David pointed at a few points on the map. “At the same time, the Jack-O-Lanterns will be dropping the Anjuran telephone lines here, here, and here, as well as destroying the lifting equipment at THIS bridge.”

Zhao made a motion with his hand, indicating David should explain further.

David shrugged and kept going. “The bridge has been a choke point for the last three attempts at taking Anjuran. As a drawbridge across the Garvin passage, it not only restricts most access to the rest of the valley, it also has a commanding view of the nearby plains. Any conventional attack on Anjuran would require taking control of the bridge so as to allow passage of vehicular and non-jumping mech forces. By destroying the lifting equipment… Hell, just by attempting to do so, even if it fails, we focus their attention our way. They are waiting for us to attack… been jumping out of their skins for the last week. Be a shame not to give them something to see, eh?”

“And the point of this?” Trenchard asked. “If you were going to invade, you’d have had to moved out to staging areas at LEAST five hours ago.”

David smiled like a shark. “Simple, basic misdirection….we want them looking at US, while Lockheart sneaks up and reams them in the rear area. By taking down their telephone net and making a play for the bridge, we show them exactly what they EXPECT to see… an attempt to secure access, and strikes against their command and control net. Just what would be required for the conventional assault they are expecting.”

Trenchard’s new aide looked puzzled for a few moments before speaking. “I don’t see the point…what do you hope to gain? You can’t hold the bridge for long with the forces you have in place, and the Anjuran’s have radio communication as well, taking down their phone net doesn’t stop them from talking to each other.”

David chuckled. “Both correct… and both beside the point. We don’t expect to hold the bridge…not even going to try... what would be the point? As you say, we don’t have the forces in place. But the Anjuran’s don’t KNOW that, do they? All they’ll know is that they are being attacked, with what REALLY looks like the prelude to a serious invasion. As for the telephones… again, correct, they do have radio comms…. but how many trained operators do they have? ON duty at four-thirty AM? What it does, is limit the processing of information… Multiple strikes along the border, each generating their own reports and requests for assistance, with one of them being a major staging step for an invasion… All of them be routed through a limited number of comm. Sets and trained operators…. THEN, once the info actually gets through the logjam, they need to make sense of it all…. and THEN decide what to do about it… at which point, they have to try to get orders back out to the field…. using that same overloaded radio-room.”

David grinned. “In the middle of what LOOKS like an invasion, it’s entirely possible that the raid on the airfield will get lost in the confusion, or at least placed on a lower priority for response.”

David shrugged. “Besides, even if they do respond to the raid immediately, they still have to deal with all the confusion and chaos of several units each trying to follow movement orders simultaneously. With veteran troops, who’ve drilled for the possibility, it can be done… with the Anjuran militia? Eh, anyway, we’ll need to take the bridge at some point regardless. Having the Jack-O-Lanterns destroy the lifting gear now, with it in the down position, just means that it’ll be there and down when we need it later….. It can be fixed later if the Prince decides he wants it working.”

Trenchard stared at the map for a long moment before looking up at David and Zhao. “So, why tell us now, and not before? You’ve been playing this tight for so long, why decide to let us in? Finally decided we can be trusted?”

David laughed, while Zhao chuckled. “Trust you? Whatever gave you that idea? Look, we are required to tell you what we are planning, so we’re doing that. At the same time, your organization leaks like a sieve. The “invasion” that the Anjurans have been jumping out of their skins about was misinformation we planted using the listening devices in YOUR headquarters…. Anything we tell your people, we expect to get back to Anjuran within a day.”

Trenchard seethed angrily. “So why tell us now? You’ve been keeping us in the dark so far, why decide to tell us now?”

David smiled. “Two reasons really…. one being that we are contractually required to do so, prior to any major operation. The other being that you aren’t going to be in any position to tell anyone what you’ve learned.”

He pointed to the rear of the room, where Nikita and Glen waited silently. “My friends here will escort you to our observation lounge, you’ll be able to listen to reports as they come in, so you can inform the Prince in the morning as to the results of the raid. But until then, I must regretfully inform you that you are not permitted to leave or make any communications.”

Trenchard glared at David. “So we’re prisoners? Damnit Ten-Bears, This is mutiny! WE hired you! You are subject to our commands!”

David shrugged. “Oh, you still have some command rights….. As liaison from the Prince, you can still shut down the operation… Just give the word, and the op is scrubbed and you can leave right now…. Of course, we’ll have to report to the Prince that we no longer have confidence in you as our liaison, and express our grave concern about the security of your offices….. I don’t think we’ll call into question your loyalty… we won’t have to, the locals around here take paranoia to an art form. It wouldn’t take thirty seconds before people started wondering why you scrubbed the operation… or why you wanted to rush back to your demonstrateably insecure headquarters with the data on an imminent attack against the Prince’s foes.”

Trenchard paled. “You would dare?!”

“Oh, you’d be surprised what I dare, Alex.” David spoke grimly. “Just get out of our way and let us work the contract instead of playing these little power and political games and we’ll have no problems. You used to be a Black Star, Alex. Have you forgotten the code? I have no intention of throwing away Family just to sooth your ego. You are not a fool, Alex, stop acting like one! Your offices are so full of listening devices I’m surprised you can fit in the door! Three quarters of your staff are in the pay of other nobles, and that doesn’t count the internal spying! Even if the data doesn’t make its way DIRECTLY into enemy hands, can you honestly say you believe that the lesser nobles and politicians around here keep secure communications?”

David took a deep breath. “That’s just the problems with people on the OTHER side spying! How many of the Prince’s supposed “Allies” would be perfectly willing to drop a dime on us for some political advantage? For just ONE example: Georgi, Victor’s daddy, would more than likely have been happy to do so even BEFORE we took his darling little pervert into custody! He’s been one of the leaders of the opposition party for years! Can you sit there and tell me with a straight face that it wouldn’t serve his purposes to have us get slaughtered? Or that he’d shed a single tear over dead mercenaries?”

David snorted with contempt. “If you can, I’d say we need to get this contract done and us off-planet as soon as we can. Something in the local water must be bringing out the stupid in people.”

Black Stars Compound
James Office
4 Feb 3079, 14:00 hours local time

"Well Eugene, decision time, we only need 3 Ferret pilots for this mission. I know I had them all go through the training, but we only need 3. Who do you recommend we take on the mission?" James

"Mmmm, well, I suggest we take Johnson, Pagano, Whitman, Farnsworth and Wong." Eugene

"That’s five." James

"Yup. Five." Eugene

"We only need three, two to carry the infantry, one for the techs." James

"You’re right. We need three birds, but I think we will need five pilots for this job." Eugene

"So we are going for it then?" James

"You said so yourself, we can’t afford the risk." Eugene

"I did." James

"You haven’t changed your mind have you?" Eugene

"No. The risk is there and real enough to be staring back at us." James

"That leaves only one question. Which two?" Eugene

"Recommendations?" James

"Uh uh This one is your call." Eugene

<Sigh> " …. Alright, Wong and Cutter." James

" Cutter’s back up?" Eugene

"Farnsworth." James

"It’s settled then. I’ll post the final flight roster." Eugene

"No, I’ll announce it in the briefing." James

"Alright, we should be getting to that. On our revised time table we have to be pulling out soon." Eugene

James nodded. He and Eugene had realized that they would have to slow down their speed for the canyon run. All of the training had been brutal and they had improved, but they needed to make sure that they made it through the canyon or there would be no mission. It was another trade off.

Rhicter and Whitman took the news about as well as James had expected. Disappointment, followed by a "Whatever is good for the team."

<Scene Break >
Flight Line

Whitman watched as the pitch of the rotors increased and all nine birds for this mission lifted off and turned to the west. The sun would be dropping in the next hour. They would benefit from some twilight on the first part of the canyon run.

"Hey Rhicter want to head over to the command center and see if we can watch the mission? Beats what we would be doing otherwise." Whitman

"I should have been on this mission. I’m better than half those pilots selected. Damn it! <sigh> Yeah, le’me grab something to eat while we wait." Rhicter

<Scene Break>

"We are at the co-ordinates where is the river bed. Where the hell is it!" Johnson

"Relax Johnson, It’s around here somewhere and we will find it." Bremmerhof

< On intercom on Ferret 3>

"Hey Buzzsaw, where the hell is your dry river bed?" Johnson

"What? " Buzzsaw

Buzzsaw pulls herself off the bench seat past the pale faced techs and sticks her head into the cockpit of Ferret 3. She does a quick instrument scan and then a look outside of the perspex at the terrain ahead. It was not quite dark enough to go to night vision, but it would be very shortly. She slowly pans back and then quickly points out a large shrub.

"There, it’s over there behind the shrub." Buzzsaw

Johnson veered his craft in the direction pointed and after passing over the shrub keyed his mike.

"I thought you said this river bed was right here?" Johnson

"It is, the bed right there. Look at the way the brush is spread. The river bed will get deeper and narrower as we go. These type of rivers spread out into nothing. So they blend in with the rest of the land at their ends as they fade into nothingness. Just follow those two thin lines there and over there and you will be all set." Buzzsaw

Buzzsaw quickly returned to her seat just before the craft she was riding in dropped altitude.

"Rabbit 3 to pack, rabbit 3 to pack Tally ho!" Johnson

The rest of the heloes swung their noses and headed for Johnson’s welcome message of finding the river bed.

Hawk dropped down in front of the flight and led it on its run through the river bed. At first it looked like nothing more than flat land and then there were small lips off to each side. The lips got bigger first one foot, then two, then three. While the lips got bigger the width of the river started closing in. Hawk slid the night vision gear into place and fired it up. The world took on a faint green glow and got suddenly brighter. The moment of disorientation quickly passed and he keyed his mike.

"Trouble 2 to flight, go bug eye" Hawk

One by one everyone switched to night vision gear. One by one the numbers were heard over the radio

"4 up"

"5 good"

"8 ready"

"1 green"

"3 up"

"9 good"

"6 ready"

"7 good to go"

James listened to everyone report in and then spoke.

"All confirmed, good to go" James

Back in the lead Hawk watched the canyon walls start to close in more. The walls were climbing too. They were passing 2 meters and after a hard jink to the left he found himself staring at 3 meters. Hawk focused on the run, his eyes were training out at the blur that was the edge of his vision trying to see just that little bit more. He wanted as much lead time as he could get. Reaction time was at a premium so every extra fraction of a second could mean the difference between life and death. A jog to the left, a hard right, watch the boulder! The walls had crept up they were now almost 5 meters.

Things were a little darker now the sun had already set behind the mountain they were headed for. The twilight was also fading into night. Hawk desperately wanted to turn on the IR floods to aid his night gear. He knew he couldn’t. Any observation post up on that mountain with enhanced spectrum vision would see their flight as if it was lit up like neon signs. He took a deep breath and refocused again, it would not do to zone out right now.

Back in Trouble 4 "Shakes" was on edge. She was flying a Warrior tonight instead of her Ferret for starters. She was surprised when Hawk told her to take this bird tonight. The Warrior was a sluggish dog compared to her Ferret. Besides, Buzzsaw was definitely the better pilot for this type of flying. That was what shocked her the most by Hawk’s orders to fly this craft. No questions just do it. She was also worried about Gunther sitting below her in the gunners seat. How did he feel about her flying this helo instead of Buzzsaw. Pilots and gunners were a team, changing them was something you didn’t do. He hadn’t said a word since just after liftoff. Was he resenting her being in that seat? She couldn’t see anything of him except the back of his helmet. Nothing to determine what he was feeling or thinking.

She didn’t have time for this line of thinking. She couldn’t afford to let her mind wander. She briefly shook her head and refocused on the flight. This flight was a little more stressful and a little easier. It was more stressful because she knew this was no sim, this was the real thing a screw up here would mean somebody wouldn’t come home, herself included.

This flight was also a little easier. First the canyon was a little wider than it had been in the sim. Just a couple three meters, but it was a huge difference compared to what she had been training for. The second was the boss’s decision to use the special chem tape. It was placed on the back of the heloes one color on the left side, a different on the right and a piece of each in the center. It was invisible to the naked eye at night but with the night vision gear it stood out almost like tail lights. It allowed you to see when the person in front of you made turns and how hard they were turning based on the aspect changes. This made it a lot easier to navigate this tight canyon, just as long as the person in front of you didn’t screw it up. So far the flight had been pretty good.

Shakes was very happy for all the intensive training she had been subjected to. All the agonizing about it was almost completely forgotten. She never would have made it if hadn’t been for the training. Of course the decision to slow down through this section wasn’t hurting her feelings either. They were most of the way through this canyon.

Damn! She almost didn’t react fast enough to the sudden pitch up by the craft in front of her. The boulder was right there. She missed it but she doubted it was by more than six inches. A miss is as good as a mile they said. Given her nerves right at the moment she would rather have had the mile.

Here nav unit beeped. They were almost out of the canyon. Well, actually they would be leaving it and jinking hard left to get to the canyon ridge line and the second major leg of the mission.

There! A hard aspect change in the craft in front of her. She put the Warrior into a hard left bank. Then eased it back into a straight and level flight. The ground below here was just a blur.

Slim was breathing a sigh of relief as they broke up and out of the canyon. He could feel the tension drain as the craft piled on the increased Gee on the sharp pull out and banking of his craft. Then they were speeding up and then banking hard right for the run up the canyon ridge. The ridge spine had to be close to a sixty degree incline. Given its steep angle it made it difficult for Slim to see the craft in front of him. He could make out the left and right tapes but the center was completely obstructed by the tail boom. He still felt better about this than the run through the canyon. There was a rock outcropping just ahead. He pitched up and over that and caught a glimpse of several white puff clouds appearing all around his craft. Slim’s mind screamed out "FLAK! I’M BEING SHOT AT!" Slim’s mind pictured the the dirty white clouds that were the results of altitude sensitive explosions that released razor hot shrapnel that were designed to shred machines and pilots alike. Slim started to jerk the stick, to start evasive manoeuvres to try and protect his craft and himself when he heard a voice over the intercom.

"GOD DAMN SHEEP!" Billy Ray

It took a moment for the comment to sink in. When it did he started to relax again. Apparently they had just over flown some peasants flock of sheep. Multiple white fluffy objects suddenly appearing around him.

Slim felt his hand shaking a little. He kept his craft on course and continued the climb. His nav computer was registering the top in less than a minute. Almost there!

Mary "Bo Peep" was bringing up the rear. The ride while stressful was uneventful. The bolder in the stream bed was the most eventful thing so far this trip, given the fact she could see the other craft in front of her pitch up and over gave her enough advanced warning. She was back here to protect the Ferrets from any attack from he rear. Even though they had been told that nobody else would be flying tonight, it didn’t change the fact that it was a prudent move to cover their flank. Bo-Peep was the one designated the task and she was going to do it. This mission depended on getting them and their precious cargo to the target. She was determined to make sure it did.

Mary’s nav computer showed that they were almost to the top. Then the fireworks would begin shortly. Mary watched the tape of the craft in front of her change its aspect even more and then disappear. They had reached the top and the IP point. Mary pushed the stick forward and the nose dropped. Just ahead of her she saw the whole flight. The attack heloes had changed from trail formation to a diamond attack formation. The ferrets had formed an inverted V formation and had fallen back a little from the attack helos. The battle plan called for the everybody to continue Nap Of Earth flying but they would be at 30 meters not the ground scraping level they had just flown.

It felt good to have several meters of air between her and the ground. She formed up on her wingman. For this leg it was the boss. They were flying tail end together. The entire group increased speed almost in unison. They were up to full speed flying at almost 160kph. The nav computer was counting down the range to the enemy base.

Johnson watched the distance to target shrink on his nav computer. A few moments later he heard the betty start screaming. Targeting systems had just gone active. He was inside the radar cone of at least one targeting system. A moment later he saw the two warriors that were flying tail end go screaming overhead.

A few seconds later and the night sky was lit up by 60 bright orange blooms. Each represented a long range missile streaking out to touch it’s target. They flooded the sky and started to coalesce into three groups. Each group erupted into a large fireball lighting up the compound that had lain silent and dark in the night. At the center of each fireball was a guard tower.

The wooden structures with corrugated tin and sandbags didn’t stand a chance against the over thirty kilograms of high explosives that ripped into each one. The wood burst and shattered, sending its splinters into the surrounding air and into the mangled bodies of the two unfortunate guards who were manning each tower. The explosions had already ripped uniforms and limbs from their torsos. The spotlights and machine guns in the towers didn’t have a chance to reach out sting their enemy. The third tower suffered the same fate as it’s two brothers the twin tubes of it’s missile launcher mangled and bent. The explosion was large enough that it caught and ignited the ready rounds for the launcher and they added to the already devastating carnage. The bodies, or what was left of them were tossed like a child’s rag dolls up and through the air. One of them, landing nearly one hundred feet from the base of the tower.

Almost instantly five search lights came alive and started to scrape the sky, scratching for the source of the vile horror that had just been unleashed, violating the peace and stillness of the night. The machine guns in the towers started to cut loose, long red tendrils reaching out, seeking to sting the intruders.

James heard the betty come to life. A targeting radar just came online and was looking for them, it was still in seeking mode. The ancient india band radar, a sad reminder of the low level of sophistication of his enemies, continued to sweep the skies for the target that the operator knew was there. It did not get a chance to go into tracking mode before the next volley of lethal explosives streaked their way into the base and the launcher and the radar dish on the tower’s roof disintegrated under the sheer power of almost 50 kilograms of explosives.

A third machine gun tower also erupted under the sheer power of 50 kilograms, over one hundred and ten pounds, of high explosives. After the immediate explosion the only thing that remained were the four shattered stumps that were the tower legs.

"Delivery two with me." James

With that James and Bremmerhof broke from the attack and turned their war machines toward the city. Bremmerhof managed to find the lead and just kept going. He and James were enroute to deliver their presents.

A few seconds later more blossoms emanated from the four remaining heloes of Trouble Inc. This time multiple blasts erupted inside the airbase. The fragments and lethal splinters were reaching out their fingers for the soft flesh of men. Most just found nothingness. One group of four caught a squad of guards just emerging from their barrack building.

Ivan was still struggling into his jacket, while holding his rifle by the sling strap. He had been dreaming of the bar maid over at the Rabid Dog pub in town. He had just removed her panties when he was awoken by the mournful wail of the base alarm. He never did get his jacket on. The four missiles Gunther had just loosed erupted all around Ivan and his squad. The missiles worked as they had been designed and all seven bodies were literally shredded.

Two of the three Ferrets were flaring and disgorging their cargo. Conti jumped off the Ferret he had been riding in took a step forward. He felt and heard something crunch beneath his boot. A quick glance confirmed his suspicion that he had stepped on a missile fragment. He was barking commands to the rest of his men as they also jumped off and ran crouching from the bird. Two of them were pulling the large bulk of a machine gun. A third was hauling its tripod. Two more were already burdened down with ammo belts for it. Conti pointed to an area and they made their way there and set up the massive .50 cal.

A second group was setting up a second .50 cal a short distance away. The two remaining squads set up a quick perimeter around the group of enemy helicopters. Suddenly a shot rang out and the soldier near Conti fell. He spun and caught sight of a rifle barrel protruding from the window of a building a short distance away. He cut loose with a short burst from his Mauser. The shells peppered the wall near the window, a few actually entered through it. A moment later the first .50 cal opened up. The heavy high powered shells plowed into the building and literally tore chunks of the soft pine boards from the wall around the window. The additional rounds from one of the squads BAR soon had the whole building looking like swiss cheese.

The second .50 had also cut loose on the barracks building. This one was constructed of field stone. The heavy rounds were no match for the stone walls. A moment later the fire shifted to the barracks door. While the walls were stone, the door was pine. The door blew apart in one burst. The gunner wasn’t through though, he fired another long burst in through the door in an up and down motion. Sparks were seen through the windows. The heavy shells had gone through the building’s missing front door and were striking the floor and back wall. The deformed bullets were then ricocheting and sending fragments of themselves throughout the entire room. The first .50 joined in the carnage by putting bursts through the 4 windows adding more rounds of deformed death into the barracks turned kill box.

One squad had spread out and covered the sides of the barracks waiting to catch anybody who might be making a break from the building. A medic was attending to the downed star. With the urgency the medic was using the man was still alive, and would probably stay that way.

Just after the first machine gun had opened up the last Ferret pulled in and flared. The nine members on this one were a little more hesitant in exiting the craft. A few bullets bounced off the sheet metal that faced the command center. This helped convince the people to exit the craft and make their way to the enemy heloes.

Over head the 4 Warriors of Trouble inc. continued their assault. They unleashed another full volley of missiles into the three remaining guard towers. The red tendrils of light were reaching out frantically trying to touch the attacking heloes who were dancing well out of range as they delivered their lances of death. After the bright flashes there was nothing but smoky remains of what were the guard towers.

After the towers had been neutralized, they started firing volleys of their fragmentation missiles at any dark space that might contain an enemy soldier. Conti called for them to cease fire and stand by for fire missions.

Buzzsaw and Johnson approached the six enemy heloes along with the six techs. They were clearly shaken. Conti appeared at that point and yelled out.

"We ain’t got all day ladies! The sooner your done the sooner we are out of here! You take too long and you could be facing some serious time in their dungeon! Of course that would be after I put my boot up your ass!

That seemed to shake the techs out of their fear of the fighting and put it back where they were use to having it. On a boot aimed for their ass. They moved to the heloes, gear bags unzipping along the way. Power grinders, power wrenches, and torches all coming out and being brandished by the six as-techs. Whichever bolts didn’t power out from the wrench, were cut out with the torches and grinders. Buzzsaw and Johnson moved to the Little Birds. Johnson opened the door to his and looked in, shining his flashlight around inspecting it. He quickly turned and went to Buzzsaw’s bird and opened the passenger side door. Buzzsaw had already climbed in and was flipping switches and dials.

She help the door open with a foot and yelled out. "I need a batt boost over here!"

She turned back and looked at Wong.

"There are at least three rat’s nests of wires exposed and the cockpit smells of av gas." Wong

Buzzsaw just shakes her head. She points to the floorboard on her side. There in the light of her flashlight Johnson could see the rusted out floor. He could also see where they had had cut out the bulk of the floorboard and had bolted a piece of perspex in its place.

One of the techs came running over. He had a heavy box on his back with a pair of heavy wires sticking out of it.

"Where are the terminals?" he said.

"They are behind that panel at the base of the tail." Buzzsaw

He turned and headed to the back of the bird. A moment later they heard.

"Alright, power up!" As-tech

Buzzsaw flipped a couple of switches and yelled out.

"Firing up!" Buzzsaw

The sound of the starter was heard and the slow whoosh as the rotors started to turn. A loud cough and a large belch of smoke erupted from the exhaust port. Buzzsaw quickly shut the machine down.

"DAMN IT! They didn’t fuel this bird! I need some fuel out here!" Buzzsaw

"They don’t have enough in the tank to even make it ten minutes." Buzzsaw

Wong just shook his head.

"They deserve what they get." Wong

Johnson hopped out and headed with one of the techs towards the fuel cart. Four of Conti’s men followed them over and one helped pull the cart, which was nothing more than a 50 gal drum on a four wheeled cart with a pull handle. They pushed and pulled the cart over to the Little Bird. Johnson noted that there were flickering lights in the cockpits of three craft.

After getting the cart back they plugged in the fuel hose and started pumping the handle. The method would work but was slow. Wong and the tech were taking turns pumping the handle that transferred the fuel from the drum to the fuel tank on the Little Bird. Buzzsaw was watching the fuel gauge. When she wasn’t watching that she was watching the techs and their progress. She saw them finish with one of the Warriors and then they were double teaming the second. A pair of tech finished with one of the Wind Walkers and moved to the second one. She heard the buzz of the power wrench as it was being used to remove bolts.

<A few minutes and some serious pumping later>

"That should be enough!" If it isn’t it will be enough to get it back most of the way. At least out of injun territory." Buzzsaw

The tech and Wong stopped the pumping and removed the hose. They pushed the cart out of the way and the tech went back and rehooked the battery power boost.

"Power up!" As-tech

"Clear! Starting up!" Buzzsaw

She engaged the starter and the whoosh of the blades started. Another loud belch of black smoke and the motor started catching. A moment later it was running up the rpm’s. The tech removed the battery power boost and closed the panel.

The remaining techs had by this time removed the stick from the second wind walker. They also had almost removed the stick from the second Warrior as well. They were fighting with the last two stubborn bolts.

Meanwhile, James and Bremmerhof were closing quickly on the rear gate to the city. Their speed was close to 130 kph. James warned Pee Wee

"Pee Wee, we are almost there, get ready." James

Pee Wee took the targeting system out of stand by and put it into active mode. The scanner wasn’t in search mode ten seconds before it went into targeting mode. Pee Wee lined up his target in the cross hairs and loosed the first volley at maximum range into the right gate guard tower. The tower took the blast and the search light came on and started to search for them.

Bremmerhof’s gunner Constantine also loosed his volley into the left gate guard tower. Their effectiveness was no better. A few seconds later they both launched their second volley. These also hit the mark but did not break the towers.

Bremmerhof looked into his sight and lined up. Two seconds later he pickled off the bomb. It burst in the air moments later about 120 meters from the gate releasing its deadly payload of mine. Anti tank mines both traditional and air burst anti hovers and anti infantry ones as well. They spread all over the road and off to the sides.

The machine guns in the towers opened up, their tracers were reaching out for the two helicopters. A short burst hit the side of Bremmerhof’s craft taking some of the armor off.

James was leaned into the sight and was trying to line up his shot. He hit the button and the bomb released. He did not get things right. His altitude was too low. The bomb did not strike nose down, as it should have, instead it struck the road with a glancing blow. It cracked and spread all over the door, and the area in front of the door. The ignition devices worked properly and the door erupted in a wall of flames. James flight path took him over the wall. At which point James pulled back on the stick and banked so hard his peripheral vision began to fade. He managed his turn and was making his run back out of there when there was a loud series of bangs and several warning lights started flashing and their associated bitching started. James didn’t look for what hit him. He needed to get out of there. He twisted the throttle to full emergency power and dropped the nose a little. He quickly built speed all the while putting distance between whatever it was and himself.
"You okay Pee Wee?" James over the intercom

"I’ll be alright if you tell me we ain’t going back for more." Pee Wee

James chuckled.

"We ain’t going back, at least not tonight anyways." James

"Then I’m okay, I’m running some diagnostics, I’ve a few warning lights on my panel including the targeting system." Pee Wee

"You alright Boss?" Bremmerhof

"I’ve got several warning lights and I’ve switched to a couple of back-up systems but yeah, I think I’m okay."

James eased the craft out of emergency power and confirmed their heading back to the airfield. Bremmerhof flew up and around James helo looking for any obvious external damage and fluid leaks.

"It don’t look like you leaking anything, but you got a nice stitch of what looks like 45mm shells on your five." Bremmerhof

Pee Wee finished his diagnostics.

"Boss, I’ve got some bad news, one of those shells caused a short on the V412 board, that, in turn has caused the CT 731 Bus to crap out." Pee Wee

"What does that mean in flyboy speak, Pee Wee?" James

"We’ve lost some accuracy with the weapons system Boss." Pee Wee

"Did you notice Boss?" Pee Wee

"Notice what Pee Wee?" James

"There was a small convoy headed for the front gate. 4 trucks two of which were towing duel .50 trailers. I guess we made it there just in time." Pee Wee

".50 cals don’t make 45mm holes." James

"No sir those probably belonged to that J band attack radar I spotted just before we caught what they were throwing" Pee Wee

"J band? Jesus, who still uses those?" James

"Quikscell still loads them out on some of their very low end units bound for places like this. Odds were that was from a Scorpion." Pee Wee

"Mech!" James

"No Boss, tank." Pee Wee

James sighed and concentrated on getting them back to the airfield. When they were in sight of the base they all saw the Warriors buzzing around the base. Occasionally they saw an SRM salvo launched into the airbase.

They continued to close and announced their arrival to their team. The last thing they needed was to catch a missile from one of their own. Besides, James was worried that the IFF might have been damaged.

On the ground, two techs had closed in on the last Little Bird. There was a shout and another tech ran over with a fire extinguisher in hand, after the first tech had opened the cockpit of the Little Bird. Wong watched as they hit the cockpit with the CO2 extinguisher. They then started with the power wrench and torch. The third tech continued to hit the cockpit with frequent short bursts of the CO2. They were hoping to keep the av gas fumes flushed as they worked. A couple of loud snaps were heard. Anyone who had been around a wrench long enough knew that sound. It was the sound of the head of a bolt being snapped off. Then one of the techs cleared out, the one with the power wrench. He was done in there. He started to head back to where the remaining techs were gathering.

Another shot rang out. It had just hit As-tech Martin, he was just returning his power wrench to his gear bag. This shot was followed by a burst trying to hit the rest of the as-techs that were milling waiting for the orders to get the hell out of here. This time the gunfire came from the traffic control tower. Several star troopers turned and started hosing the balcony around the tower room. A figure was seen dashing back inside.

"Dumb move Asshole!" Conti

"Top Hat to Hornets, fire mission! Traffic control tower! NOW! NOW! NOW!" Conti

A few seconds later the entire top of the control tower erupted in a fireball, gouts of flames spewing from every window and door up there. The door in the base of the modern type tower burst open followed by a large puff of flame.

"Fry you bastard!" Conti

"Get that man a medic now!" Conti

He was pointing at the wounded tech Martin as he yelled the last.

Another blast was heard. Conti swung his head around to evaluate the possible new threat. What he saw was an explosion at the guard shack at the front gate followed by a pair of Warrior helos flying over it.

"Their back, and about time too." Conti

He turned his attention back to the battle zone. Not that there was anything happening anymore. If there was a man left alive on the base he knew better than to do anything other than play dead.

The last two techs were running back to their group. One was holding the stick over his head as he ran.

The first Ferret was pulling in. The skids were just touching the ground when Conti started herding the tech to the craft. The techs didn’t need much encouragement. The air was looking a lot safer than around here. After they climbed aboard, and lifted off the two other Ferrets pulled in and Conti ordered the .50 cals loaded. The men were already breaking them down for transport when they heard the word. Four men per gun were carrying its parts to the waiting birds. After they were loaded, Conti’s men began to fall back on the choppers.

That was the cue for the Warriors overhead to open fire again. They started laying down a barrage of frag missiles at any building they thought could house a person. Followed by any area along the walls where somebody could be hiding.

After the two Ferrets had taken on their cargo and lifted off, the Warriors made one last circle of the base before fading off into the night and back to base. The return trip would be less eventful for them since they would be cruising at 2,500 meters.

<Cut scene>

On the ground just outside the compound Captain Snelling, aide-de-camp to Major Akbar the commander of the air base, watched as the enemy attack helicopters slowly circled before disappearing back into the night. He had been walking the Major’s dog when the attack occurred. Actually more chasing the damn poodle down. It had gotten a scent of a rabbit and had given chase. Slipping his collar to do so. Snelling had stood there and watched as the attack was pressed. He had seen the guard towers explode and heard the machine guns chattering. Just after they had left Snelling found the dog. Upon seeing the dog he had just hung his head.

<Scene break>

James was keeping an eye on all of his systems after taking the hits, looking for any indications that something else had been damaged and would threaten the flight.

Alice flying a Little Bird was also watching her instrument panel and more important her fuel gauge. Wong was also watching the panels as he rode in the copilot’s seat. Given what they had seen they were justifiably worried about something anything going wrong at any moment.

Ahead in the distance the sky was beginning to glow pink with the coming dawn. It was still night below them on the ground. The sun would be a while longer before it rose enough to shine it’s light down on the land below. They didn’t have a nav computer to navigate back to base. Buzzsaw had just lifted off and set a compass heading after verifying that at least their compass still worked. Wong had asked about it, all she said was back is simple. Just sit back and enjoy your flight. That was almost two hours ago. Wong knew that fuel had to be getting low.

"How is our fuel status?" Wong

"We have ten minutes by the fuel gauge." Buzzsaw

"Ten Minutes?" Wong

"Don’t worry, what that means is we actually have 12 minutes of fuel left on the gauge, and there is a five minute reserve below that. So see, we have almost 20 minutes of fuel remaining." Buzzsaw

"…and how long til we reach base?" Wong

"Well, …" Buzzsaw

Wong watched her look at her watch for a moment.

"I figure we got about twenty five minutes maybe twenty three before we get to base. This estimate is based on distance and speed. " Buzzsaw

"Those numbers don’t seem to match up to us landing on the base." Wong

"Yeah well these are estimates based on everything working properly too." Buzzsaw

She looked over at Wong and smiled as she said that. His smile in response wasn’t the least bit heart felt.

Buzzsaw reached up and fiddled with a couple of knobs. She had just leaned out the fuel mixture a little more.

Ten minutes later she smiled inwardly. She recognized a rock formation. They were only five minutes from base. Right about on time she thought to herself. A minute later Wong spoke.

" I see lights ahead." Wong

"Carinthia airbase dead ahead." Buzzsaw

Just then there was a small rough spot in the engine. It happened for a second time about 40 seconds later. This time Wong felt it and looked at Buzzsaw. She just smiled and resumed her flying. What was there to say, they both knew it was the engine beginning to skip due to lack of fuel. She put the little bird into a shallow decent. She had some altitude to trade off. Besides if the motor decided to really quit she wanted to be as close to the ground as possible. The motor was sputtering every 15 to 20 seconds now. The altimeter was slowing unwinding. They had just passed 1,000 meters. Buzzsaw figured that if they could continue they would just make it.

The motor was gasping severely as they passed twenty meters and at two meters it gave up all together. Thankfully the rotors still had momentum and they touched down with barely a hint of a thump.

As the rotors spun down she flipped the master power off switches killing all battery power to the craft.

"Well we are down." Buzzsaw

"Yeah, and the base is only a quarter mile walk away." Wong

"No, only a quarter mile ride." Buzzsaw

A couple of jeeps and a tank were slowly making their way over to the Little Bird. Buzzsaw and Wong pulled off their helmets and stepped out of the helo.

"Besides, we wouldn’t want to land at the airfield. Without the proper radio frequencies and passwords and validations I wouldn’t give two Franklins for our lives, not while Ten Bears had anything to do with base security." Buzzsaw

Wong just blinked. She was right, with Ten Bears in charge of base security, the last place they wanted to try and land in an enemy copter was a place he was defending.

As they pulled through the gate in the back of the security jeep they were over flown by the rest of the unit as they headed to the landing pads.

Carantania Guards Barracks
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
4 Feb 3079, 23:45 hours local time

For the first time in over a year, the Carantania Guards barracks was buzzing with activities. Not vice related ones, or a parade display where a noble flogged a grunt for stepping on his boots, but actual military activities where ancient and rusting BattleMechs that were given a last minute spray of paint, and combat vehicles with blenching and coughing engines were rolled into positions. Hundreds of soldiers in all manners of mismatched uniforms and weapons milled about the barracks area, trying to quickly get into assembly formation.

Standing atop a podium, hands on hips and feet apart, stood General Roger O' Connor. With no official military school beyond the most basic military training camp, Novo Franklin has rarely, if ever, produced any worthy military leaders. Other than Alexi Trenchard, the Carantania Guards have had the honour of having the only other current recognized 'expert' in General Roger O' Connor. The Grandson of a now retired AFFS Marshal, O' Connor's father, William O' Connor left the Albion Military Academy on New Avalon after a mere four months and preceded to spend the next half a decade of his life wandering the Periphery with a rag tag group of lackeys of similar ill disposition towards proper military training. Even with the laughable state of his 'Mech lance consisting of a Stinger, Valkyrie, Firestarter and Archer, O' Connor senior easily found a place for himself and his small group on Novo Franklin where he could claim to be the leading military mind on the world with the ludicrously non-existent training he had received in his father's household. When William's heart succumbed to a particular over zealous session with one of his serf ladies, Roger took over the leadership position and BattleMech of his father.

Despite being considered a joke to almost the rest of the universe, one undisputed fact is that until the O' Connors appeared on Novo Franklin, it was almost unheard of for entire 'Mech lances, let alone companies to operate together as a unit - cohesively or otherwise. While attrition, poor leadership and even poorer execution of operations had reduced the number of 'Mechs within the Carantania Guards from a full company to the current eight, it was still better than every other holding. When Trenchard arrived on Novo Franklin about five years ago, he had added somewhat to the tactical and strategic dimension of the Carantania Guards by coming up with plans and training programs that put the 'Mechs, tanks and infantry working together for the first time in the history of not only House Posavski, but the entire Novo Franklin as well.

Several other holdings had quickly tried to follow suit of course. But even the Carantania Guards, with the experience of Trenchard made very little headway in successful combine arms tactics. The other holdings who tried made even less progress. Despite a bright start, all the military forces from the various factions on Novo Franklin fell back to relying on massive infantry formations, with vehicles and 'Mechs to provide fire support - and to add a level of intimidation.

The target of the Carantania Guards in the forthcoming battle would be the tiny Trellis Fief. Once upon a time, Warlord Jessica Kolbe could boast of fielding officially six BattleMechs. However, the truth of the matter was that its techs would had been lucky if they could keep three operational at any one time. At least one of the machines, more often than not two, would be partially disassembled so that the other 'Mechs could make use of critical components salvaged from them to keep themselves working. The Fief's techs would continuously rotate what came to be called "donation machines" to give the impression that the Trellis Fief Militia was more powerful than it really was. Upon Trenchard's arrival, he had quickly seen through the illusion. Targeting the Trellis Fief 'Mechs rather than focusing on wiping out as many of the enemy infantry as possible as was the standard Novo Franklin military doctrine, Trenchard's strategy would cost the Carantania Guards a Wolverine in exchange for three of the operational Trellis Fief 'Mechs. At the moment, Warlord Kolbe was down to a pair of Phoenix Hawk medium 'Mechs supported by a scrap pile of parts from their destroyed brethren. The debate of whether the P-Hawks survived through the fighting and continued to soldier on was due to the design's resilience, the technicians' expertise, or pure dumb luck persisted to this very day.

The Trellis Fiefdom was nothing more than a walled village. A single reinforced bunker in the center of the village housed their Militia, and served as the seat of power for the Warlord herself. Like all of Novo Franklin, infantry troopers bulked out the mass of the Militia, supported by weapons mounted on roughly erected pillboxes that ringed the village. Despite her proximity to the Carantania holdings, the numerical superiority of the Carantania Guards and the Prince's repeated offering of peace in exchange for her allegiance, Warlord Kolbe had steadfastly refused to relinquish her power. There had been reports of several mutiny attempts, followed by savage purges - all which were denied by the Fiefdom of course. Roger O' Connor had to admit it, while Prince Posavski had occasionally displayed his weakness through his increasingly soft handed approach to things, Warlord Kolbe - depreciatingly referred by many as the Old Witch, had continued to tighten her grip on her populace. It was something Roger would do well to learn.

Against two BattleMechs held together by spit, bile, and prayer, roughly two infantry companies and at most a platoon of 'militarized' vehicles, the Carantania Guards would be deploying two full lances of BattleMechs - though admittedly several of similarly poor condition as those of the Trellis Fief Militia. The short company of 'Mechs would be supported two of the Guards' vehicular demi-companies, as well as the usual human wave of infantry soldiers.

General Roger O' Connor smirked. Trenchard would not be involved in this operation by order of the Prince. Maybe his royal pain in the ass finally saw the fact that Roger was the military brains of things here, rather than the relic of a former mercenary. The fact that all of Novo Franklin would turn its attention to the impending Black Stars attack on the Anjuran Principality just made his job all the more easier.

O' Connor snorted in contempt and spat on the ground. Black Stars indeed. The Commander of the Carantania Guards had heard of and experienced their overbearing and with their mightier than thou attitude, in their dramatic and flashy black long coats. And their soldiers! The nonsense about their highly lazze faire setup baulked against every atom in his body. History has proved that centralized command was the way to go. Had the Inner Sphere, and the known human universe in general not gone back to the feudalistic government methods? Where had democracy brought the Free Worlds League?

Tonight, General Roger O' Connor would show these mercenaries how things are done on Novo Franklin. Roger grinned. Maybe he will be able to absorb the battered remains of the Black Star into his Guards after all this is over. What a mighty army he would have than! The rest of Novo Franklin would bow to his power. Who knows, it might even be possible for the O' Connor family to finally rule after being under the thumb of House Posavski for a century.

Roger reluctantly pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he forced himself to think of the present. The Carantania Guards obviously outnumbered and outclassed their Trellis Fief Militia. Still, the General was not leaving things to chances. He looked behind him at the two huge shapes covered under even larger dark coloured canvas sheets. Roger had utilized much of his family resources to bring these to Novo Franklin. Through bribery, blackmail and outright threats, Roger O' Connor had managed so far to conceal their presence from the idiot Trenchard and the Franklin Trustees. He would use them for the first time in the forthcoming attack on Trellis. He would prove that their decision to sink millions into hiring those Black Stars should have been better invested in him and House O' Connor.

Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
5 Feb 3079, 09:15 hours local time

As David escorted Trenchard and his aide to the fringe of the Black Star’s compound, he continued his discussion with the aging former mercenary. “… that’s up to the Prince, but if it were me, I’d be thinking about what terms I wanted to offer the Anjuran leader… or his nobles if they decide that the man is too much of a liability to keep…” He smiled as he spoke, clearly amused by the notion.

“Terms?” The Aide sounded puzzled. “Why would we offer terms? The way is open, and their air force grounded. Why would we offer them terms when we can just defeat them outright?” The man sounded almost offended that any other action would be contemplated.

David shrugged. “As I said, that’s up to the Prince, to decide how he proceeds. But if it were me, I’d be thinking beyond just this one battle.”

He stopped and turned to the young noble. “You are correct, we CAN just “defeat them outright.”… but at what cost? They may have lost their air force, but they still have some ground forces. Those won’t go without a price to pay. And then you have to consider the damage to the town and its people. My assumption was that the Prince intended to rule these people and gain their resources…. hard to do that if it gets all shot up in the process of taking it.”

David shook his head at the idea. “No, If it were me, I’d be thinking on how to get control WITHOUT having to shoot my way in. As it is, we’ve just taken out a major portion of their defensive capability, removed an obstacle to our advance, should we choose to invade, AND demonstrated the ability to strike with impunity wherever we so choose. This has to have had an effect on their morale and feelings of safety. Right now, the nobles of Anjuran are looking at being on the losing end of a war, which given the usual practices here, generally means execution for the adult males, and chattel status for the rest…. I rather think that if the Prince offered them a way out, they’d be inclined to listen VERY carefully.”

David sighed. “Besides, making the offer costs nothing, whereas its rather difficult to un-kill someone, much less un-fire ammo, or un-burn resources, and those men and resources can be better spent elsewhere, on other campaigns.”

“But we’d never be able to trust them!” The aide objected. “They’d turn on us the moment our backs were turned!”

David laughed. “Of course not!” He sounded amused by the thought. “That’s why your terms will specify certain…. obligations.” He grinned coldly. “Like “inviting” the heirs of the ruling nobles to “Visit” this principality, “To gain a closer understanding of the new way of things.”… hostages if you must be blunt about it. They’ll also have to accept limits on personal arms, men and pay reparations… Nothing crippling, but enough to limit what funds they have to get up to mischief with.”

The young noble nodded. “That could work in the short term, IF they accept it.”

David motioned the pair to proceed, falling easily into step with them. “Of course, you’ll have to treat them decently. No point in holding “guests” if you don’t take advantage of it….. A lot of the younger sons and daughters will be at impressionable ages. Harsh treatment would solidify hate into another generation, whereas a more gentle and kind approach… back by firm action, could demonstrate to the next generation, the advantages of following Carantania’s lead.”

The aide nodded, almost in spite of himself. “Possible, indeed possible…. the Barons will hate it of course, they are looking forward to the conquest and dividing up the territory.” The man trailed off, clearly thinking hard.

David shrugged. “There will be other conquests. Principalities that refuse terms. In those areas, a harsher approach may be needed. But they already know what the “stick” is, perhaps it might be time to show them a “Carrot” instead? As for the Barons… instead of focusing on lack of loot, maybe they should be thinking about other things… like increased trade and markets without tariffs. Like NOT having to pay increased taxes and levies to cover cost of conquest and equipment replacement.”

The three men arrived at the edge of the compound and David turned to face the Trenchard and his companion. “Well, I trust you can find your way from here?”

Trenchard nodded, still fuming from the way he had been treated.

David gave a slight bow to the two. “Then I shall let you return to the Palace…. Alex, Prince Posavski. I bid you good day.”

The two men started when David named Trenchard’s supposed “Aide” as the Prince, which brought a smile to David’s face. “Did you really think we would not discover your companion’s identity, Alex?.... Ah well. I shall leave you to discuss the future I think. You know how to get in touch.”

With that, David stepped back and closed the gates to the compound, leaving Trenchard and the Prince alone in the morning light.

Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality
5 Feb 3079, 11:00 hours local time


Trenchard ushered the Prince as the pair wearily fall into plush seats in the Prince's surprisingly spartan room. Other than his bed, there were few other pieces of furniture and fittings. A large desk with a holoputer, a small cluster of chairs and sofa, as well as a ornately carved wooden cabinet standing at one corner of the room were the only other items in his room. "I think I'd like a drink after all that. Care to join me Lord Trenchard?"

The former Black Stars smiled at his Prince. "That would be heavenly My Lord."

As the Prince strolled over to the wooden cabinet, a light knock sounded on the door. The Prince continued to pour from a decanter into two rock glasses without turning. "Enter."

A young soldier in neatly pressed uniform entered the room. Trenchard noticed the darting eyes of the man, and the lack of his usual cheery smile. "Bad news Cesc?" The young man remained quiet - an act that answered Trenchard's question well enough.

"My Prince, Lord Trenchard." The man started with a slight bow. "The report on the attack on Trellis Fief has just came in." Cesc presented a brown manila envelop. His hands were quivering slightly.

"Thank you Cesc." Prince Ljudevit Posavski called from the corner of the room before closing the doors of the cabinet noiselessly on well oiled hinges. The young Prince turned around and rejoined Trenchard with a pair of three quarter filled glasses of bourbon. "On the rocks if i remember?"

"Thank you My Lord." Trenchard offered his Prince a grateful smile, but turned a questioning eye back to Cesc as he received the report. His half drooping eyes widened as he read through the papers.

"Problems?" Prince Posavski asked as he noticed Trenchard's knuckles were white as his clutched on the papers tightened in anger.

Trenchard looked up, all hint of sleep gone. "Do you mind if I use your holoputer My Prince? I'd like to forward this report to Zhao and Ten-Bears immediately."

"Of course." The Prince nodded with questioning eyes.

------

Black Stars Compound
11:20 hours local time


David walked in through the open doors of Zi Long's room to find him scanning over several sheets of printed documents on his desk.

Sensing immediately something was wrong, the Black Stars XO took a seat quickly next to the Chinese man. "What is it? The Anjurans struck back?"

"No, worst." Zi Long sighed. "Trenchard just forwarded to me a copy of a report. One that detailed an attack carried out by a large proportion of the Carantania Guards against the Trellis Fiefdom."

"When the hell did THAT happen?" David frowned as he picked up the reports Zi Long pushed towards him.

Zi Long rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just as we hit the Anjurans."

David's eyes swept through the report. It was relatively short, and rather unprofessional as they would have expected from the Carantania military. However, the main points and details of importance where all there.

"This." David started as he finished reading and stabbed a finger on the papers. "Is not only FAR too expensive, but unnecessarily brutal and destructive."

"Tell me about it." Zi Long agreed. "I didn't think this is what the Prince wanted. At all."

David smashed his metallic arm onto the table. "Not only is the settlement no longer productive and useful, it sets an example of atrocity that might solidify resistance."

Zi Long looked out of the small window his room offered. "In addition to the report, Trenchard hinted that the Prince is seriously considering cutting this General O' Connor loose and declare his actions illegal."

David nodded. "About the only thing that MIGHT help fix things is a public trial and execution."

Zi Long stood and started preparing coffee for the two of them. "Trenchard was telling me that they were about to offer the Anjurans, and anyone else interested about coming under the de facto ruler ship of the Carantania Principality and House Posavski. All factions would have a say and seat on the the Franklin Trustee, so that even the smallest holding would not be completely absorbed." He looked up as he filled a bubbly glass pot with water. "And than this."

"They will be placing the good General under arrest. They'll put him under court martial. I don't know if they'll execute him, but that is a distinct possibility." Zi Long continued as he put the pot to boil. "I'd say about the only good thing that comes out of this is that O' Connor and all of his incompetent officers will be removed in one fell swoop."

"Well, not ALL the incompetents." David pointed out. "But we'll at least be free of the most troublesome."

Zi Long smiled. "There's always gonna be some left of course. But less headache is always better than full blown ones yes?"

------

The Prince and Trenchard never had the chance to announce the arrest of Roger O' Connor and his officer corps. A substantial portion of the returning Carantania Guards broke formation and headed out north about fifty kilometers before the borders of Carantania Principality. The rogue General had led the Firestarter, a pair of Scorpion light tanks and a single tracked APC in his Archer and fled. Cesc disappeared from the Principality as well, together with several other known lackeys of the General.

Days later, the group would be reported at the gates of the New Saars Principality. Sketchy reports indicated that an aging War Master Stephen Gould welcomed the renegade General and his troops with open arms. That was followed shortly followed by the War Master introducing his new and recently installed Commander-In-Chief to the former Carantania Guards General - Warlord Jessica Kolbe.

It was said that a 'Mech dual was immediately held between the two - O' Connor in his own Archer, and Kolbe in a Blackjack loaned from the stables of the New Saars militia. While no reports of the fight was released, both O' Connor and Kolbe were amazingly installed at the War Master's sides as his second in commands.

Throne Chamber
Anjuran Keep
Harfield, Anjuran District, Novo Franklin
5 Feb. 3079, 1500 Hours, Local Time

The assembled nobles and officers waited nervously as Lord Popov ranted and raged at them. Off to the side lay the bodies of the messenger who had brought the reports of the Airfield raid and the Officer who had been in charge of internal security for that sector.

“If the fool who was in charge of the Bridge survived his idiocy, I want him killed immediately!” The enraged Lord snarled. “As a matter of fact, I want all three of the officers at that location impaled and left to rot right where the new bridge crew can see them!”

Narrowing his eyes to slits, Popov fumed. “If that moron Akbar hadn’t gotten himself killed this morning, I’d have had him impaled too!”

A clearly terrified page approached from the rear of the room. “Ah… Ah… Excuse me please, My Lord?”

Caressing his pistol in its holster, Popov glared at the child. “What is it?!”

“My… My Lord, there’s a transmission from Carantania… The communications officer sent me to inform you…. He… He said you would want to see it.” The young boy stammered.

“Very well.” The Lord snarled. “But if it isn’t vital, I’ll have him impaled too!”

The page signalled one of the guards bring in a video display unit. “My Lord, this has been playing on a loop for the last ten minutes. We’ve recorded it here for you.” Pressing play, the young boy stepped back, and once the crowd shifted their attention to the viewer, slipped quietly away.

<Video Scene>

Five men stood within a small, but comfortable room. Prince Posavski stood with Alexi Trenchard and Diego Vargas, his political advisor, at the center of the screen.. Off to the side, Zhao Zi Long and David Ten-Bears waited.

Prince Posavski spoke softly but clearly, with no preamble. “Lord Popov… Nobles of Anjuran District… By now you are aware of the results and consequences of the raids on your territory this morning. Your air power is no longer, and the way to your lands no longer blocked. Should it become necessary, our forces could take Anjuran by force of arms in short order. However, we do not desire to do this unless forced to do so.”

Prince Posavski gestured to the men with him. “My advisors and I offer this option to you instead: It has become clear to many of us that Novo Franklin requires a world government if we ever hope to become more than what we are now. The Franklin Trustees are a beginning of this. We hope to welcome you into the trustees as an equal member… yes, that’s correct, I said an EQUAL member, not a vassal. Anjuran District would remain intact, its Nobles retaining their stations and properties. Anjuran would also be given an equal voice on the Trustee Council. Anjuran… as with all other Trustee Districts would have to abide by the new constitution and legal code, though that will largely apply to relations between districts and trade. There will be some limits on district military sizes allowing for self-defense, but a Council wide military force will be established in order to guarantee peace and provide for defense of ALL districts. The member districts would be expected to contribute to this force, both in supplies and personnel in accordance to their population and capabilities. Officers and men would be drawn from all districts.”

The Prince smiled broadly. “I understand that no Ruler of a District would wish to commit to any agreement without first seeing the particulars, so a copy of the rights and requirements of a member district has been transmitted to every ruler of every district as I speak here now…. I would suggest that you review the documents carefully… To give you time to do so, I declare a unilateral cease fire on the Part of Carantania and the Member states for a minimum period of one week. We shall take no OFFENSIVE actions, though we will respond if fired upon or attacked in any way.”

The Prince’s expression sobered. “Unfortunately, this is not the only business I bring before you this day. What I say now will be broadcast and distributed worldwide using every means at our disposal…. This morning, Forces of Carantania attacked and destroyed Trellis Fief under the command of Roger O’Connor. While the Assault was ordered by myself, the total razing of the fief, the slaughter of the population, and the atrocities that were committed were NOT authorized. In fact, they were specifically forbidden. Roger O’Connor participated in, and actively encouraged these actions as the commander of the force. We do not support his actions, nor do we condone them…. We find them abhorrent in the extreme. We had hoped to bring our former subject before you for trial, to pay for his crimes, but rather than face justice, he has fled from Carantania. So be it. We name Roger O’Connor anathema to us and our domain. His former title and lands are forfeit. We further name him oath-breaker and outlaw. We lay a price on his head in the amount of one hundred thousand Franklins either in cash, goods, or land, according to the wishes of the claimant. Deliver his head to Carantania territory, with or without his body attached, and the price will be paid, no questions asked. Should the claimant be a serf, they will further be granted yeoman status and their children allowed education. Those who fled with him, and who aided him in his atrocities are likewise cast out and a price laid on them of five thousand Franklins each.”

Posavski nodded to the camera. “This concludes my message to you this day. I await your response.”

<Throne room>

The video monitor exploded in a shower of sparks as Lord Popov emptied his pistol into the dark screen. “How dare he! The utter arrogance of him! To believe I would bow before him! To become one of his lapdogs!”

Turning to glare at the assembled nobles, his voice a hiss of rage, Popov continued. “I’ll see Anjuran burned to ashes before I kneel to him! Prepare the troops! We go to war!”

The officers and nobles glanced at each other. Everyone there knew they could not win the coming war. The only question would be which side shot them, Carantania in battle, or Popov for failing to achieve the impossible.

For a moment, silence reigned in the throne room as the assembled men considered their options. Then, from the dais a feminine voice rose, clear and calm. Lord Popov’s mother, the famous Iron Duchess, Anastasia, spoke with a voice devoid of warmth. “Vasili, please approach me.”

Popov strode over to her impatiently, his whole demeanour screaming of his rage. “What is it, Mother? Can it not wait?”

Anastasia shook her head. “No, Vasili, it cannot. It seems I must correct a mistake, reluctant though I am to do so.” With that, she raised her hand, and shot Vasili Popov through the forehead with a small revolver.

Standing, Anastasia addressed the shocked men present. “My son was not the man or ruler I thought he was. He would have led us to ruin and death for the sake of his pride and ego. I will not see the work of generations cast aside in a moment of rage. Unfortunately, Vasili’s son is not of age to take his place. Accordingly, I will serve as regent until he is able to take up the task of ruling Anjuran.”

Turning to the senior officer present, Anastasia spoke crisply. “Send an envoy to Carantania to discuss terms…. Tell him not to commit to anything yet, but get a feel for things. Meanwhile, stand on the defensive. Even if Posavski is telling the truth about a cease fire, we do have other enemies who might get up to mischief.”

Camp Unity Training Facility
Carantania Province, Novo Franklin
25th Feb 3079 0430 Hours Local time

David watched as the newly arrived troops assembled in a basic formation. Most of them were blinking sleep from their eyes and pulling on their newly issued uniforms. They had arrived over the last week, from various regions and militias, all here to become part of the new Unified Defense Forces.

David had no illusions as to the quality of the troops, most of them would be troublemakers and misfits, sent here to get them out of their home nation’s military as someone they wouldn’t miss. He shrugged, they’d either make something of them, or break them trying.

He waited for the Black Star Infantrymen who were functioning as Cadre for the formation to bring them all to attention before stepping out of the shadows to address them.

He took a few moments to survey the assembled troops, a detached expression on his face. Then, folding his arms across his chest, he began to speak.

“Welcome to Camp Unity, it will be your home for the next few weeks while we try to hammer a bit of training and discipline into you maggots! There’s only three ways out. One, we decide you’re ready to advance to the next level of training…. Two, you are injured or killed and cannot complete training…. or three, you REALLY screw up and we shoot you.” David smiled coldly. “And if you think I’m joking, you’re in for a rude shock.”

“Some of you are wondering why we took away all your former clothing, issued you these wonderful uniforms, and shaved your heads. That’s real simple. Besides not wanting any lice or fleas from you filthy maggots, we don’t care who or what you were before. We don’t care which district you were from, or who your Daddy is… if you even know who he was… We don’t care what rank you USED to hold. Here, until you earn more, you’re just another maggot. You have no rank, you have no connections, and you have no authority. You are a Maggot to us…. you aren’t even worthy yet to be called a trainee. If you are lucky, and work your ass off, you MIGHT someday be worthy to be more.” He sneered at the assembled trainees. “But I doubt it.”

David waited a few moments for the men to assimilate what he had just said before continuing. “The uniforms you were issued have a colored armband sewn around the upper left arm. This denotes your training platoon and assignment track…. Red, Orange, Green, Blue, and Gray are basic infantry tracks… If you have one of those colors, that is where you are assigned. All maggots with those color armbands, are now dismissed for training under Lieutenants Conti and Gallagher.”

David waited while the Black Star cadre yelled, pushed and herded the infantry candidates away and then reformed the remaining trainees into a new formation. “Yellow Armbands have been selected for technical or support positions, You are also dismissed for training. Senior Technician McWilliams will supervise your instruction.” More yelling and reordering of formations.

“Next we have the Black Armbands…. You lucky fellows are potential vehicle crew.” He smiled evilly. “Sergeants Nikita and Glen will supervise your training.”

After all the shouting had stopped, and the others had been marched away, David turned back to the few remaining troops that stood before him shivering in the morning chill. “And finally, White. You unspeakably lucky bastards have somehow managed to be selected as potentials for Officer candidate training.” David’s smile reminded observers of a shark selecting lunch. “There are now thirty five of you…. We, however only have sixteen training slots for officer candidates. Care to guess what that means? If you guessed that meant we were going to weed out a few of you, you were correct! Over the next week, we are going to see who of you has what it takes to be an officer. We’ll see who wants it the most, and who can’t handle it.”

David signalled a couple Black Star troopers, who brought out a small wooden frame, holding a brass bell and striker. Once it was set before them, David continued speaking. “This will be placed before your barracks and be present at all training sites. If you want out, all you have to do is ring the bell. That’s it. Just ring the bell and we’ll find an assignment for you that’s a bit less….. challenging.” David sneered at the assembled candidates. “Personally, I think you’ll ALL be ringing the bell before the end of the week. What a sorry bunch of rag-bag dirtballs.” He snorted in disgust. “Alright maggots… anyone want to drop out now? No? Ok, then.”

David grinned. “Welcome to Hell.”

Suremark Territories
300km from New Saars Principality, Novo Franklin
26th Feb 3079 1630 Hours Local time

A massive and obviously heavily armoured and reinforced tracked APC rumbled onto the packed main highway of Suremark City. It had been two hours since the recently swelled ranks of the New Saars Militia had steamrolled over the Suremark Defence Force. Still, debris, rubble, destroyed war machines and even a couple of dismembered bodies could be spotted at various locations of what used to be the capital city of the Suremark Territories.

Two platoons of nearly fifty heavily armed soldiers wearing the field uniform that increasingly was striking fear and terror into the hearts of holdings and factions closet to the New Saars Principality formed a defensive shield before the side hatch door of the customized APC as it ground to a halt. Pistons and mechanical wheels could be heard laboring even twenty meters away from the vehicle, before jets of steam were discharged from the sites of the hatch door. A low rumbling emitted before the hatch was pushed forward, and then swung down slowly. From within the hull of the beast of a vehicle, War Master Stephen Gould strode out in a flowing cape. From a distance, one who had never seen the War Master before would have marvelled at how a man reportedly over seventy years old, hitting on eighty, could have maintained such an unbelievably muscular physique. Those who knew the dictator of New Saars would know that the War Master would always put on body armour beneath whatever he wore when he leaves his Fortress. Those who knew him even better would be made privileged to the fact that the War Master sometimes even had it on within the relative safety that his own Fortress Capital provided.

Leaning against the massive right foot of his Archer, O' Connor picked at his nails with a field combat knife and looked on impassively as the War Master approached a row of kneeling figures with hands tied behind their backs. Another 'Mech, a thirty five ton Firestarter with an incredible paint scheme consisting of clashes of gray, black, white and red, stood by beside his seventy ton war machine. Closer inspection would reveal the red to be flaking rust and runs of water and coolant contaminated with it. Both 'Mechs showed slight battle damage. Even support weapons could chip BattleMech grade armour if enough of them hit, and if the person firing was lucky enough to find critical weak points on the BattleMech. Unfortunately for the vanquished Suremark Defence Force, none of their soldiers have had the fortune to do so.

The pilot of the Firestarter had chosen to stay within the confines of his cockpit, obstinately to provide an additional measure of security for the War Master and O' Connor. Kaloure Nawfar had seemed to prefer cocooning himself in the discomfort of the cockpit that his Firestarter offered ever since learning that a considerable bounty had been placed on his head by Carantania and the members of the growing Franklin Trustee for his role in the wanton massacre of Anjuran civilians. One could never blame him for his paranoia. After all, even someone under the War Master's payroll might decide on cash in on the opportunity. A hit might even be ordered by Stephen Gould himself. The fact that even considerably competent ‘Mech pilots were a raw commodity on Novo Franklin could have been the only reason for Nawfar’s continued survival.

A little distance further away Jessica Kolbe stood with feet planted wide apart, hands on her hips under the shadow of her Blackjack. The former Warlord of Trellis Fief had only thrown on a loose jacket over her Mechwarrior coolant suit, allowing whatever available warm air in the afternoon to blow against her sweat soaked exposed arms and thighs. Despite her age of nearly fifty, her adherence to a rigorous physical regimes and exercises had kept her in incredible shape. With her cascading red flowing hair and comely features, many had commented that she actually resembled another mythical beauty - the late Natasha Kerensky. Like the legendary Black Widow, Kolbe's alluring dressing was overshadowed by her aggressive stance and constant scowl which seemed to challenge anyone who dared to see her as anything less than the warrior that she was. Slightly to the rear, and flanking her Blackjack were another pair of 'Mechs - a missile totting Javelin that weighed in five tons less than Kolbe's own ride, as well as a Stinger captured from the three day Kashu Fief campaign just before the conquest of Suremark Territories.

Like before, right after the New Saars Militia smashed through the pathetic Kashu Fief Militia, War Master Stephen Gould had ordered that the survivors of the defeated holding bound and gagged before their assembled former citizens. For daring to reject his offer of unconditional surrender, the War Master personally crucified the ruling family of Suremark Territories as the horrified population watched on. The War Master also made sure that he started with the youngest of the ruling family - a three year old boy, so that the head of the household would have more time to realize and contemplate, much too late, his mistake. Unlike Kashu, the monarch of Suremark Territories, Trey Sade had no wife. Instead, Gould ordered his bodyguard platoon to gang rape Sade's twelve year old daughter instead. As Trey Sade finally suffered his turn of crucification and was raised high atop next to the rest of his family on a wooden stake before the silent crowd, Gould smirked and turned back towards his waiting armoured personnel carrier.

Kolbe and O' Connor took and cue and mounted their own 'Mechs. The tiny mining town of Scal would next bear witness to the military prowess and savagery of the New Saars Militia.

Scal Township
Northeast of New Saars Principality, Novo Franklin
14 March 3079 18:00 Hours Local time

“So it’s confirmed then?” The grizzled older man sighed. “Suremark is gone, and that Bastard Gould plans on us next?”

Jessica Parker just nodded. “Yes, Grandfather. We just received his demand for unconditional surrender. He says if we don’t do so by noon Friday, he’ll treat us as he did Suremark and Kashu.”

Mineboss Robert Parker closed his eyes for a moment in silent prayer. “You know what’ll happen to you if we do.”

Jessica shuddered. “I do…. the Warmaster’s reputation is well known, especially amongst the women.”

Robert stared off into space. “We cannot win a war, and surrender under his terms is just as bad….”

Coming to a decision, Robert looked piercingly at Jessica. “Gather the women and children, prepare them to leave. Carantania and the Posavskis have offered sanctuary, and you’ll be taking them up on it. Any spare room on the transports we’ll fill with supplies and silver. We’ll send most of the young men with you as well, they can do little good here, and there’ll be a time come to take back what’s ours. You’ll need them then I think.”

Jessica gasped. “But Grandfather! What of you? You know what Gould will do when he finds out!”

Robert smiled gently. “I’m old and tired, child. But I think I have enough left in me to show the Warbastard a good fight. The other old men and anyone who refuses to leave will stay here and prepare a reception for Gould.”

“But you’ll be killed!” Jessica cried, tears starting from her eyes.

Robert nodded. “Yes, child we will…. But we’ll not go alone, and Gould will gain little, if anything for the price we’ll make him pay.” Robert spoke gently to his grand-daughter, folding her into a hug. “Don’t you cry now, I’ve had a good long life. Longer than most around these parts. Besides, your Grandmother is waiting for me. It’ll be good to see her again after so long.”

“But how can you fight them?” Jessica asked through her tears. “We’re so much smaller than them at the best of times. How can you and the others hope to fight them at such odds?”

Robert smiled. “Jessica, there’s a reason why you don’t hunt Daggertooth by crawling into their dens. Gould is about to learn the same lesson. We might be old and tired, but between us we’ve got a bit of experience with explosives and mines. And most of the old miners could lead you anywhere in the tunnels blindfolded… To get to us, he’ll have to get past the bombs and such we’ll have rigged, then he’ll have to come dig us out if he wants the mine. We’ll have food and supplies in there, and a few back ways out he’ll not know of as well. If it looks like he’s close to winning, we’ll duck out through those and blow the whole thing!”

Robert grinned. “I’ll be sending most of the rifles and such with you. We’ll be cutting down some shotguns and such, and using those. Be better for that sort of fight anyway. Between those and the dynamite… Gould will pay dear for his prize, never you fear!”

“I’m not afraid of that, Grandfather!” Jessica sobbed. “But what of you? You’re my only family I’ve got left!”

Robert pulled Jessica deeper into the hug, stroking her hair to sooth her. “Now, now, child. It’ll be alright. You will be ok. I’ll not be with you, that’s true. But you are strong, and young. Besides, the people will need you. You are the last of the Parkers at this time. You’ll need to be steady and strong, but you can do this!”

Jessica nodded. “I wish… you were… coming with us!” She spoke haltingly, trying to catch her breath.

“So do I, Child… So do I” Robert spoke softly, holding his granddaughter tightly for a long moment. “Now, we’ve lots of work ahead of us and not much time for it.”

Black Stars Compound
Campus Carinthia
Carantania Principality, Novo Franklin
2nd June 3079, 0900 hours

Zi Long literally threw himself into the chair in his room, allowing his body to completely give in to weariness and aches of spending the last sixteen hours in and about his Morningstar CCV. Ever since the Prince and Franklin Trustees offered the other holdings membership, many had done so following the example of the Anjurans. To these were added refugees fleeing from the excesses and brutality of the rampaging New Saars military. Zi Long and the Black Stars had voiced their concerns to the Prince and the Franklin Trustees. How were they to know if the War Master had planted spies and saboteurs among the mass of supposed refugees? There was no way the Black Stars will be used as police to patrol the hastily set up temporary shelters that would hold the sudden influx of people into what had been unofficially called the "Carantania side" of Novo Franklin. Instead, the mercenaries had been more like a roving fire fighting brigade. They had to respond to New Saars Militia probes sent by the War Master to test the defences and readiness of the exploding and expanded Franklin Trustee Council border and the newly established Unified Defense Forces. Novo Franklin had effectively divided itself into two major blocs - one under the dictatorial rule of the War Master, and another led by the Franklin Trustee Council.

Despite the UDF's impressive numbers, the bulk of the organisation was still, like the entire Novo Franklin, composed of infantry forces supported by small numbers of vehicles and even smaller numbers of BattleMechs. Five months of intensive training by the mercenaries- six if one included in the original Carantania Guards that the Black Stars trained, could only do so much to increase the quality of the troops. The rearmament and reorganization suggested by David for the Carantania Guards had been expanded to include the entire United Defense Forces after much debate and argument from among the members. That had slowed the process considerably, further compounded by the need to set aside funding and resources to build more permanent lodging and support systems for the booming population. Still, the United Defense Forces had done well so far against New Saars incursions, holding up the attackers long enough for the Black Stars forces to arrive and throw back, or even destroy the attackers.

The latest attack by the War Master had been the largest offensive conducted by the New Saars Militia so far. Nearly an entire company of ten enemy BattleMechs - though their ranks included a pair of QUA -51T Quasit MilitiaMechs that were so old that they were failing apart, as well as a Patron LoaderMech armed with a support particle project cannon, supported by two companies of tanks and a full regiment of infantry armed with all sorts of weapons had stormed Cosco Fiefdom, one of the newest and most far flung and outlaying member of the Franklin Trustee Council. Fortunately, the fiefdom was literally built into a narrow mountain pass - so much so that most of the locals on Novo Franklin actually dabbed the area Cosco Pass. Despite having no 'Mechs within their ranks, with only a small number of missile launcher equipped vehicles, the Cosco soldiers were well versed in operating and moving among the mountainous terrain, and utilizing all sorts of techniques to sow death and destruction among the invaders. Even the jump jet equipped 'Mechs of the New Saars Militia could do little against the well entrenched and hidden defenders.

The Black Stars had struck the besieging New Saars forces from behind by deploying through their Seeker Class DropShip, the Event Horizon in the dead of the night, under cover by the darkness, as well as the distraction of the attackers as they continued their assault on the Cosco positions. Coordinated via radio comms, the Cosco fiefdom defenders and mercenaries unleashed a concerted effort on the New Saars militia in a well timed two pronged attack. The sudden and fierce counter attack swept several New Saars 'Mechs and over a company of infantry from the mountains, as well as several enemy vehicles bombarding the Cosco fortifications as the Coscos Fiefdom triggered a rock slide via strategically planted explosives on the mountains, while the Black Stars 'Mechs and tanks, supported by the VTOLs of Trouble Inc. and the strafing run of the Event Horizon hit the New Saars positions from their undefended rear.

The attackers were thrown into immediate disarray. Already worn down by the failure to take Cosco Pass after a week of tiring siege and suffering massive losses, the New Saars Militia broke and run. The Black Stars netted several destroyed and crippled 'Mechs and abandoned vehicles, as well as stores of small arms and support weapons. However, after inspecting the windfall, Zi Long and David graciously transferred the entire store of salvage to the Unified Defense Forces. None of them saw if necessary to explain that the reason behind the Stars' generosity was the sheer quality - or more correctly, lack of it, of the captured equipment that would make them more of a hindrance than assistance.

The Black Stars' contract here on Novo Franklin would be up in a week or two. The Prince and Trenchard, as well as several other members of the expanded Franklin Trustee Council had called for a meeting in hope of ironing out a longer term contract. Zi Long smiled as he looked at the ceiling of his room and massaged the bridge of his nose. Who knows what wondrous terms and conditions the Council would offer...