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HPG Station Taurus
Samantha City, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
August 22, 3026

Capitaine Olivia Suchet shook her head as the expensive ground-car screeched to a halt just outside the perimeter of Taurian Guards who surrounded the ComStar facility.  As usual, the robes had not allowed her security detail to enter the compound—only a handful of the Secret Service assigned to keep the Protector safe were allowed within.  Her troops were here in case anyone inside pressed their panic button, however—and if that happened ComStar rules and regulations would fly out the window and she would take control of the Station.

But for the moment, she was more concerned with events outside the facility.  Grover Shraplen had not waited for the limo to come to a complete halt before he had swung open the door and tried to dismount—and she smiled as he nearly fell on his face from the forward momentum he had failed to compensate for.  The politician recovered however and quickly moved towards the entrance where two of her troopers stepped in his path, their bayoneted rifles held at port-arm.

“Clear me a path, you imbeciles!  Have you no idea who I am?” he roared, but the Guardsmen did not move.

Olivia walked over to stand beside him.  “Sir,” she barked as she snapped to attention.  “We are quite aware of who you are—what is your purpose here?”

Grover’s face turned a fiery red as he spun around and pointed a finger in her face.  “Thomas needs my advice if he is going to speak face-to-face with that hell-spawn Davion!” he spat.  “I am one of his most trusted advisors, and you will allow me entry, or I will have you broken from service!  Broken!”

The commander of the Guards infantry just glared back at Grover and she reached down and unbuttoned the flap on her holster, and drew the revolver with her left hand—the barrel stopped just a few millimeters shy of the left eye of the Duke of MacLeod’s Land.  “If the Protector had desired your presence, you would have been summoned, Your Grace,” she said as she thumbed back the hammer.  “We have strict instructions from the Marshal of the Armies to allow no one to pass this perimeter—regardless of their rank or station.  You, Sir, are not within my chain of command.  You are not an officer of the Taurian Defense Force, nor do you have to the power to break even the least of my people.  And if you do not withdraw to your vehicle immediately, Sir, then I will consider you a threat to the person of the Protector and will, regretfully, resort to lethal force against you.”

“How dare you!” Grover exploded.  “It is the machinations of Davion sympathizers that are keeping me from giving Thomas my good advice—you act today against the people of this Concordat!”

“Back your fat ass up now, Sir, or so help me God, I will gun you down here and now,” Olivia said flatly.

For a moment, Grover Shraplen looked at her defiantly, but then his shoulders slumped and he took two steps back.  Olivia placed her thumb on the hammer and slowly pulled on the trigger, lowering it back into its resting place.  “Return to your vehicle, Your Grace—the Protector will be exiting the building in a short while.  Corporal Henriquez!  Guide His Grace’s vehicle to a designated parking area.”

Grover Shraplen glared at her, and she could see the message in his eyes that this was not over, but Olivia holstered her sidearm and secured the flap before standing at parade rest.  Bring it on, fat boy, she thought to herself, as she stared back at the powerful politician.  And for the second time that morning, it was Grover who looked away, and he returned to his vehicle.

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

Thomas Calderon, Protector of the Taurian Concordat waited while the ComStar technicians finished making the adjustments for a real-time HPG transmission between Taurus and New Avalon.  He had been . . . surprised when Adrian Lorenzo, the Demi-Precentor of Taurus, informed him that Hanse Davion has personally requested—and paid for—the service.  At first, he had been inclined to dismiss the request; after all, it was Hanse Davion who had started this entire mess to begin with.

But, his wife Katherine and Marshal O’Conner and Henri Jouett had convinced him to at least hear what Hanse Davion had to say.  After all, Thomas himself had a prisoner from Charleston, a prisoner who claimed that the Federated Suns was not behind the escalation of this crisis.  Thomas snorted.  He didn’t believe the man—he didn’t want to believe the man—but his story had not changed even under chemical interrogation.  Because if it wasn’t the Davions, Thomas admitted to himself, then the Concordat had another enemy—an enemy he didn’t know about.  And that meant that he, Thomas Calderon, Protector of the Taurian Concordat, had failed his people; failed his son.  And the Fox was moving troops; Grover’s information made that crystal clear—and Henri had confirmed it. 

Still, there are a nagging voice in his head, a small quiet whispering voice, that spoke of how Davion worlds had also been hit—and asked Thomas what he would do if their roles were reversed.  Would he not move troops to the crisis point himself?  He had already done that by moving the TDF forward to the border, and calling up his own reserves—what made Hanse Davion so very different from him?  And these claims that it was Taurian formations and special operatives who had sown such chaos on the far side of the border—Thomas knew they were lies.  Untruths, at least, because it could be that they were both being played.  But could he trust Hanse?  Could he, Thomas Calderon, trust a Davion Prince when that Prince claimed no responsibility for the attacks on Taurian worlds?  For the attacks which had killed Edward.

Grover said it was Davion himself who was attacking his own people—to give him a casus belli against the Taurians.  But even if that was true, even if Hanse Davion was that ruthless, that pragmatic . . . would he kill his own sister?  A half-sister, true, the bastard child of his father, but his sister still the same.  For all that he himself demonized the Davions and all their works, that action—at the least—was far out of the known character of the man who ruled the Suns.  He knew that, and it ate at him as that persistent voice droned on and on and on in his head about turning back before he sealed the fate of his people and unleashed Armageddon upon them.

He shook himself, and he drew in a deep breath.  Not since Nicoletta Calderon had last spoken with John Davion in the wake of the dissolution of the Star League had a Protector and a First Prince spoken face-to-face, even holographically as he would today.  Edward . . . Thomas winced as he heart broke again when he thought of his eldest son . . . Edward had campaigned for four long years that Thomas should start talking with New Avalon.  Communicating Taurian concerns and discussing the issues between their peoples.  His son had believed—with all his heart and soul—that Thomas could be the man who at last buried the long hatred between the Taurian people and the House of Davion.  Not an alliance, not even a compact between states, but he had argued that Thomas should at least start a dialogue and through that exchange of information begin the long process of seeking a permanent peaceful resolution to the many issues that lay between the Concordat and the Suns.

Edward had a vision, not a prophetic seeing of the future, but an ideal that if his father and Hanse Davion could talk, then perhaps they could lift the embargos, establish trade of manufactured goods and resources, exchange knowledge, and—maybe, one day—with the passing of time see the possibility of reuniting the lost worlds with their homeland.  Without a war.

Thomas choked back his grief—Edward had been the one who pushed him to be better than he was.  But Edward was now cold in the grave, the victim of . . . well, that was the question, was it not?

Adrian Lorenzo cleared his throat.  “Protector Thomas, the connection is ready to be established—if you could stand there, my Lord?”  He asked pointing at a small marked square on the floor of the chamber.

Thomas nodded and he stepped forward, until he stood in the center of the designated area.

The lights in the chamber began to dim, fading away to a half-light.  And then, a rainbow pattern of light appeared and coalesced into the image of man—a tall, strong man, with close-cropped hair and a strong jaw.  A man, whose worry lines mirrored Thomas’s own.

“You must be Thomas Calderon,” the image said.

Thomas nodded, and he licked his dry lips.  “And though you lack cloven hoofs and a pointed tail, I would presume you are Hanse Davion.”  The corners of the mouth of the image twitched in amusement and Thomas half-smiled despite himself.  So the Devil Davion has a sense of humor after all.  “You asked for this meeting, Hanse—may I call you Hanse?”

“Certainly—if I might address you as Thomas.”

The Protector nodded again and Hanse sighed.  “It is not easy for either of us to put aside the long history of our peoples, is it?  Thomas, I do not want a war with Taurus—not today, not tomorrow, not in a decade, or even a century.  Taurus is not my enemy, and none of the forces under my command have attacked you.”

“And yet, we have battle-ROMs of your ‘Mechs—the 39th Avalon Hussars, rampaging through Concordat space, Hanse.  They killed my son.  They killed my people.  And yet here you are, claiming that you are not the one responsible—tell me this then . . . who is?”

Hanse nodded.  “On our side, we have battle-ROMs of our own, showing your Pleiades Lancers and Hussars attacking our worlds—a dozen in all, killing my people.  And you claim no responsibility for such actions as well, do you not?”

“My Lancers and Hussars remain on their duty stations—not one Taurian has crossed the border to conduct these attacks.”

“So, we have an impasse.  We both claim that we are not responsible; but how to make the other believe what we say is the truth?”

“Trusting Davions is not something which comes naturally to my people, Hanse,” Thomas chuckled.  “And trusting Taurians is probably not in your vocabulary either, I would imagine.”

“No.  No, it is not.  Thomas,” and Hanse grew grim.  “I will not lie to you today—there are some among my people who think that this conflict is inevitable.  Who want a war with Taurus.  Who desire your industry and your worlds.  And with this crisis escalating, we must work together to end these series of incidents before they become a conflagration neither of us can afford.”

“It is the same here.  I have advisors who are strident in that you have orchestrated all of this—not for nothing do you have the nickname of the Fox, Hanse.  Some even believe that you ordered the death of your own sister as an excuse for war.”

“I did not.  I would not do such a thing—ever,” Hanse answered with iron-clad control of his body, but Thomas recognized the anger that the words had provoked in his eyes.

“Perhaps not,” the Protector mused.  “So how do you suggest we slow down this crisis—resolve it to our mutual satisfaction?”

“If I have not ordered the AFFS to start these actions—and I have not—and if you have not ordered the TDF to carry out the attacks against my worlds—and you have said you have not—then some third party is attempting to provoke the two of us into a conflict.  For what end?  I do not know, unless they mean to tie my hands with a decades long fight amongst the worlds of Taurus.”

“Yet, you are moving more troops to the border.  My generals and spies tell me that soon—within a few months at the latest—you will have more forces concentrated from Bromhead to Verdigreis than the Federated Suns has posted there since the start of the Reunification Wars.”

“I am moving troops to keep the peace, Thomas.  You have also activated your reserves—many of my advisors believe that you are gathering yourself to strike.”

“Yes, to keep the peace on my side, Hanse.  We are both fully alert, and soon we will both have enough troops in place that any fight will become a bloodbath—but if these attacks and incidents do not end, I will have no choice but to defend my realm.”

Hanse nodded.  “Agreed.  And if you force my hand in this, Thomas . . . the Concordat will cease to exist as a sovereign state.  Whether it takes me a year, or ten, or twenty, I promise you this war will be our last . . . if you make me cross your border.”

“Threats?”

“Facts.  I do not want this war, Thomas . . . but neither will I shirk my duties as First Prince if you attack us.”

Thomas looked down and he fought against the anger raging up within him as the voice within his soul screamed at him not to push, not to fall into the trap before him.  And he looked back up.  “I have a survivor of one of the attacks—a survivor from Charleston.  He has told my interrogators many . . . interesting things, Hanse.”

“Really?  I was unaware of that—we have captured none.”

“What makes his testimony so interesting is that he claims to be a pirate—from Tortuga.  Not a member of the AFFS.  And his cockpit was wired with command detonated explosives—explosives that malfunctioned when his ‘Mech was damaged.  Some of my advisors consider the prisoner to be a plant—an effort to draw off our attention from the real threat you pose to us.”

“Tortuga?  I had not thought they have the strength of arms—or the unity—to carry out such an operation.”

“Nor did I.  I-I . . .,” Thomas paused.  “I do not know what to believe anymore, Hanse Davion.  But I have dispatched a force to investigate the pirate’s base of operations in the Badlands—what you call the Pirate’s Haven.  They should be arriving within two weeks time.”

Hanse nodded again.  “I was informed of that troop movement—by my spies.  They had thought that perhaps you were trying to outflank my forces along the border.  Your investigators are mercenaries, are they not?”

“They are.  I could not spare a force of Regulars with the Fox poised on my own borders.”

“Then what do you propose that we do, Thomas?”

“Keep our forces in place—we both have enough that it will be a blood-bath if we strike the other.  Give my expedition time to find out the truth of the matter—and I will give you our prisoner.  Perhaps your interrogators can recover information mine has failed to reveal.  Along with a copy of his entire confessional, of course.”

Thomas shook his head.  “I am doing this, Hanse Davion, for my son Edward, who died in service to the Concordat.  My heart cries out to deal you the most savage blow I can muster and send him an honor-guard to Valhalla worthy of my great ancestors,” the Protector slumped.  “But Edward would not want that.  For his memory, for his service, I will give you a chance to prove that you are not responsible.  I will give my expedition time to unearth the truth of my prisoners statements.  And I will hold back those on my side of the border who desire nothing less than to ignite that conflagration you fear.”

Hanse stared at Thomas, at the tear crawling down his cheek from his sole remaining organic eye and he slowly nodded.  “I am sending a man to the Taurian border whom I trust with my life, Thomas.  Ardan Sortek.  He will control my people—I swear it.”

Thomas nodded, and he wiped his face.  “Then I would suggest, we both get back to work and figure out a way to end this,” he paused and then he nodded again.  “Perhaps we should speak more often?  A regular basis of communication—to keep things on an even keel.  I will, of course, pay for the next such session.”

“I think we can do that,” said the Fox.  “For now, Thomas Calderon, good-bye.”

“And god-speed, Hanse Davion,” Thomas whispered as the image flickered out and died, the lights in the chamber brightening.  Edward, he told the spirit of his son, I may not have been able to do what you wanted while you were alive, but if God is willing, maybe I can do so in memorial to your death.  A stronger, truer memorial than any built of granite or bronze.  A memorial we will call Edward’s Peace.  Rest well, my son.  And if God is listening to you, beg him to make it so.

Very nice, the only thing i can see is the commander of the TDF is a Senior Marshal, as opposed to Marshal of the Armies.

I will correct, Rainbow 6.  Thank you.

MA

Thicker and thicker becomes the plot....

Also, post #50, 2nd paragraph,  "but only inclined his head slight as he sat down a china cup of hot tea."  Did you mean "slightly"?  minor nitpick.

Love me some pro TC fiction. Keep up the good work.

Before the next snippet, I am going to spend some time on the TDF.  Here is my reorganization of the TDF for you.  First of all, the Deployment Table, as of September 1, 3026.

Taurian Defense Force (BattleMech Command) Deployment (September 1, 3026)

Guard Corps
1st Battalion, Taurian Guard (Elite; Fanatical)—Taurus
2nd Battalion, Taurian Guard (Veteran; Fanatical)—Jamestown, redeployed to MacLeod's Land
1st Battalion, Taurian Velites (Veteran; Fanatical)—Samantha, deployed to New Ganymede
2nd Battalion, Taurian Velites (Veteran; Reliable)—Ina, redeployed to Jansen's Hold
1st Battalion, Concordat Commandoes (Veteran; Fanatical)—Megaris, redeployed to Mithron
2nd Battalion, Concordat Commandoes (Veteran; Reliable)—Menion, redeployed to New Vallis
1st Battalion, Calderon Red Hand (Veteran; Fanatical)—Parian, redeployed to Atreus Prime
None—Aurora
None—Ishtar
None—New Columbia

I Corps
1st Battalion, Concordat Jaegers (Veteran; Fanatical)—New Vandenberg
2nd Battalion, Concordat Jaegers (Veteran; Reliable)—New Vandenberg
1st Battalion, Red Chasseurs (Regular; Reliable)—Flaum
2nd Battalion, Red Chasseurs (Regular; Reliable)—Burton
Quinn’s Lances, Gordon’s Armored Cavalry (Veteran; Reliable)*—Laconis
Christoph’s Chasseurs; Gordon’s Armored Cavalry (Veteran; Reliable)*—MacLeod’s Land
Browne’s Banshees, Gordon’s Armored Cavalry (Elite; Fanatical)*—New Vandenberg
None—Aea
None—Brisbane
None—Regis Roost

II Corps
1st Battalion, Concordat Cuirassiers (Veteran; Reliable)—Illiushin
2nd Battalion, Concordat Cuirassiers (Veteran; Reliable)—Pinard
1st Battalion, Hyades Light Infantry (Veteran; Reliable)—New Vallis
2nd Battalion, Hyades Light Infantry (Veteran; Reliable)—Jansen’s Hold
Hadrian’s Hell-Raisers, Longwood’s Bluecoats (Veteran; Questionable)*—Landsmark
Monon’s Marauders, Longwood’s Bluecoats (Regular; Questionable)*—New Ganymede
None—Spitz

III Corps
1st Battalion, Pleiades Hussars (Regular; Reliable)—Euschelus
2nd Battalion, Pleiades Hussars (Regular; Reliable)—Mithron
1st Battalion, Taurian Lancers (Regular; Reliable)—Atreus Prime
2nd Battalion, Taurian Lancers (Green; Reliable)—Camadeierre
Leslie’s Lancers, Bannockburn’s Bandits (Veteran; Reliable)*—Sterope
Nathan’s Commandos, Bannockburn’s Bandits (Regular; Reliable)*—Renfield
None—Cadiz

IV Corps
1st Battalion, Pleiades Lancers (Veteran; Reliable)—Perdition
2nd Battalion, Pleiades Lancers (Regular; Questionable)—Amber Grove
1st Battalion, Taurian Dragoons (Veteran; Reliable)—Logan’s Land
2nd Battalion, Taurian Dragoons (Veteran; Reliable)—Norman’s World
Burrow’s Crashing Thunder (Regular; Questionable)*—Grossbach
The Devil’s Brigade (Regular; Questionable)*—Dicallus

V Corps
1st Battalion, Taurian Fusiliers (Regular; Reliable)—Althea’s Choice
2nd Battalion, Taurian Fusiliers (Green; Reliable)—Celentaro
Cochraine’s Greencoats (Regular; Reliable)*—Cyrton
White Witches (Veteran; Questionable)*—Organo
None—Orkney
None—Charleston

Taurian Expeditionary Force (en route to Badlands Cluster)
Roughneck Cavalry (Veteran, Fanatical)*
Red Scorpions (Veteran, Reliable)*
The Wild Geese (Veteran, Questionable)*
The Black Templars (4 lances)* (Veteran, Fanatical)*

*Units marked with an asterisk (*) are mercenary commands and tend to follow standard IS organization.

And here is the map of the Corps boundaries (I went ahead and included worlds not yet on the map, allowing for future expansion).

Nice 

Nice chapter, really digging the pirate angle.