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The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Lyran Commonwealth
20 June 3049

“St Ives?” Victor Ian Steiner-Davion shot a suspicious look at his father and his cousin Morgan. “Are you trying your hand at match-making again?”

The two older men exchanged looks. “I’m not that predictable am I?” asked Hanse. All three men were wearing their AFFC uniforms – Hanse out of long-standing habit, Morgan because he was technically on duty and Victor because there was still novelty to wearing the Davion-green trousers and Steiner-blue jacket.

“You’re not the worst member of the family for that,” hedged the Federated Suns Marshal of Armies diplomatically. “However, I promise you, Victor, that trying to pair you off with Cassandra Allard-Liao isn’t the logic behind posting you to the Davion Assault Guards.”

The young prince folded his arms and then, realising it made him look petulant, unfolded them again. “I’d appreciate the logic being explained then – for my future education in statecraft.”

“As long as you remember that your education in statecraft isn’t something in the nebulous distant future for when you’re old and decrepit – you know, in your thirties.” Hanse walked over to the balcony doors and looked out at the frigid mountains that overlooked his wife’s capital. “First of all, there’s the necessary political balance between the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth. You’ve spent most of your life on Tharkad, so it’s important you visit the Suns.”

“I understand that far, and I’ve no complaints about the Davion Assault Guards as a posting – I figured it would be one of the Davion or Lyran Guards RCTs.”

“We also considered the First Federated Commonwealth Regimental Combat Team but decided it would be too much of a medium path. Maybe when you’re ready for a battalion command.”

Victor was suddenly all too aware of the Leutenant’s insignia on the epaulettes of his uniform jacket. There had been talk of graduating him as a Kommandant – battalion commander before the age of twenty – but thankfully his parents had put their feet down. As a Steiner and a Davion, he knew he had more than his fair shot at earning rapid promotion but at least he’d earned this rank by completing the Nagelring’s command course and done so near the top of his class. Being elevated three ranks above other graduates simply because of his birth would have been humiliating.

“I was hoping for the Terran March though – if trouble breaks out with the Combine or the League, it’ll be there that you need your top units.”

“And if we post you there then it’s significantly more likely that the Combine will make a move, probably along with the League.”

Victor frowned at his father’s response. “What, because Theodore Kurita posted his heir out to a backwater?”

“Essentially, yes.” Justin Allard, who’d been quiet so far, produced a set of papers from his ever-present document file. “These are Hohiro Kurita’s grades at Sun Zhang. The ISF leaked them to us as a matter of courtesy a few years ago and we returned the favour this year.”

Victor frowned at the document, comparing the courses to his own. They were good grades if he was reading them right – better than his in some areas – and Sun Zhang Academy didn’t have a reputation for easing the way of noble scions: much the reverse. “Wait, why did you have these on hand?”

“Your father isn’t the only predictable one, your highness.”

The heir to the Federated-Commonwealth raised one hand to acknowledge the touch. “Okay, so Hohiro’s got an impressive resume.”

“If Theodore was going to make a move on the Terran March then he’d want to bring his best officers forward. By posting Hohiro to the border with the Free Rasalhague Republic, he’s signalling that he doesn’t have any immediate intention of doing so. But if I post you - and all our brightest young officers - to the Terran March he’d have to assume I might be thinking aggressively myself. Overall, I think I could live without that escalation even if nothing comes of it.”

“And you don’t want that?” Victor asked cautiously. “It’s an open secret that most of the Inner Sphere figured you’d be striking at Dieron back when I was a kid, to take the industrial worlds away before the DCMS could finish rebuilding and widen the Terran corridor further.”

“I gave it serious thought,” his father agreed. “You’ll be briefed on one of the reasons in a few days, along with a number of other officers. The other reason is that we believed then – and confirmed later – that the DCMS rebuilt much faster than we’d expected. The Ronin War showed that the DCMS was able to mobilise a strong expeditionary force without weakening their border forces significantly. On that basis, with our own expansion plans for the AFFC just beginning to kick in, your grandmother and I agreed that barring a sudden change of circumstances, we’d defer any further attempts against the Combine or the League to your generation.”

“You’re expecting me to deal with House Kurita?”

“No. I’m expecting you to lead the Federated Commonwealth to the best of your ability. If that means defeating the Draconis Combine, so be it, but if it means we never go to war under your rule then I – and your mother – will be just as proud. I doubt you’ll be fortunate enough not to bear that weight, but I grew up in the Succession Wars where the very thought of peace seemed impossible. Now we’ve been at peace for your entire life. Don’t be afraid to think outside of the box the way your grandmother did.”

Victor nodded, feeling something deeply personal had been passed on to him. “Isn’t posting me to the Capellan border just as provocative?”

“Well if I keep you deep in the interior of the Crucis March, chances are you’ll never give me peace at wanting a shot at some action.” Hanse grinned at his son’s discomfiture. “The fact is though, that posting you to St Ives – and the Assault Guards will be moving back and forth into the Capellan March for some exercises we have scheduled in the next year – isn’t likely to cause further escalation with the Capellan Confederation or even the Taurian Concordat.”

“Because Romano Liao and Thomas Calderon could hardly hate us more?”

“Essentially, yes. I doubt either of them is mad enough to look for a direct military confrontation with us at this point, but Justin’s arm should remind you that even low intensity activity through third party assets can exact their price.”

Victor looked at Justin’s left hand, hidden behind a glove. He knew it was artificial, a prosthesis fitted after a skirmish between Justin’s battalion and a Capellan raiding party. “I never heard the full story.”

“The Capellans sent a battalion to try to wipe out the Kittery Training Battalion,” Justin explained shortly. “I engaged their commander’s Rifleman in my Valkyrie to buy time for Andrew Redburn to rally the rest of the battalion. Unfortunately the man in the Rifleman was considerably better than I was.” Justin Allard was legendary as one of the finest MechWarriors alive. “A year or so later, the battalion narrowly avoided a bomb in a restaurant. There’s going to be a very real danger of the Maskirovka taking action against you, so do your security team a favour and don’t make a game of ditching them the way you have here.”

“If nothing else, it would be offensive towards Candace Liao’s own security. And one of the other reasons for sending you to St Ives is to underline our commitment towards the Compact. Because whether you wind up marrying Cassandra or not, St Ives is a valuable ally.”

The young prince nodded. “I understand, father. And to be honest...”

“Yes?”

“Mentioning Cassandra and not her twin isn’t a subtle as you might think.”


Nagelring, Tharkad
Donegal March, Lyran Commonwealth
27 June 3049

The briefing room was packed, not just with recently graduated cadets but also with a sprinkling of older officers. None of them, however, seemed to know what this was about.

“I don’t know exactly.” Victor admitted to his former roommate, Renny Sanderlin. “Dad said it was important but that’s all.” That wasn’t entirely accurate – there had also been an arch rejoinder from Morgan that Victor seemed to only care about special treatment when the mood took him.

“I’ll tell you something though,” his cousin Phelan observed.

“What?”

“Look at the epaulettes.” The slightly younger MechWarrior tapped the black and red pattern backing the Stabsgefrieter’s badge on his own. “Wolf Dragoons, Davion Guards, Ceti Hussars, Federated Commonwealth corps...”

“Royal Guards too,” pointed out Renny.

Phelan nodded. “So it’s just a few commands being pulled in for this. No Avalon Hussars, Crucis Lancers, Donegal Guards or Arcturan Guards.”

“What do they have in common?”

Renny shrugged. “You’re the ones with the royal and noble connections.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll probably find out in a few minutes. So anyway, Phelan, did I congratulate you yet on your posting. Beta Regiment of the Wolf Dragoons – the Black Widow’s command. Not bad going.”

“I don’t have any complaints. Too bad we won’t be part of the exercises up in the Capellan March. It might have been interesting if we were on opposite sides.”

“Yeah, yeah, hotshot.” Victor grinned. “How about you, Renny? Happy with your posting to the First Fed-Com?”

“Thanks for putting in a word for me.”

“I really didn’t.”

“Then why did I get my posting counter-signed by Field Marshal Sandoval himself?”

“Ah, that would be Tancred Sandoval’s fault – he remembered your name from his own year as an exchange student here.”

“And you had nothing to do with that?”

“I really didn’t.” Victor paused. “I was saving all my influence to try to get Ciro Ramirez posted somewhere as far away from me as possible.”

“Don’t tell me that Romano Liao’s bodyguards turned him down!” Phelan said in feigned surprise.

“I’m afraid his reputation reached even Sian,” Victor replied sadly. “He’s with the First Royal Guards – I think I saw him down near the front.”

“I wondered why you wanted this seat at the back. Now I wonder no more.” Phelan stretched. “Think there’ll be any popcorn?”

There was not, in fact, any popcorn but shortly after this the lights dimmed and the assembled soldiers fell silent with those still standing taking seats.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Morgan Hasek-Davion stood at the front of the room, his trademark long red hair loose around the epaulettes of his uniform jacket. “The following briefing is classified as Need-To-Know under code word Ebon Black. All of you should be aware, but I’ll remind you anyway, that if any of the information under this level of classification leaks, you’ll face prosecution by a sealed military court under charges of treason. And don’t assume family connections will spare you. We’ve executed four officers in the last two decades to ensure this was kept secret and Archon Melissa Steiner signed their death warrants personally.”

He let that sink in for a moment and then nodded. “Kommandant Ngov, you have the floor.”

The more junior officer also had long hair although his was blue-black. “Ladies and gentlemen, the reason for this briefing is that you’re all being posted to units that operate certain types of equipment. As part of your regular duties you’re all familiar with the various programmes the AFFC has been operating not only to provide soldiers in the field with the best equipment. For example, the FAT programme where BattleMechs, aerospace fighters and other combat vehicles have had their armour replaced with more sophisticated Ferro Armor Types.” It hadn’t been the most inspired of acronyms.

“Most of those refits bring the technological level of these combat units up to the lower edge of what was deployed by the SLDF some three hundred years ago. Given the discovery of a number of BattleMechs in DCMS and ComGuards formations of types not manufactured since the First Succession War, these upgrades are generally considered the minimum necessary to prepare a unit for frontline service as things stand.”

“All of these projects fall under the general category of Ausf R upgrades, which are classified but has probably been compromised, at least to a degree over recent years. We’ve gone to some lengths to hide the fact that the Ausf R units are in part a cover-up for a second set of projects which are intended to provide capabilities well in advance of all but the best Star League equipment. While we’ve had some success in refitting these technologies to existing aerospace craft and ground vehicles, practically all BattleMechs using what we call Ausf S technologies need to be built with it from the ground up.”

Ngov grinned. “And yes, that means that on arrival at your new units you can expect to be assigned ‘Mechs that are almost factory-fresh rather than battlefield relics patched together with salvage. Just remember that however advanced, these ‘Mechs aren’t cheap and they don’t make you invulnerable any more than watching Immortal Warrior films will – it’s proper and intelligent use of them that confers our primary advantage on the battlefield.”

He manipulated a control and the display behind him lit up with the familiar sight of a Phoenix Hawk medium ‘Mech. “This is the new production model Phoenix Hawk. It costs around 11.66 million kroner, more than some ‘Mechs twice the size. In return for that rather costly price-bump, it’s now as fast and agile as a Spider light ‘Mech and packs lasers with thirty percent more range and twenty-percent more energy-transfer-to-target than you’re used to. However, the most dangerous upgrade is the target designator that allows it to illuminate targets for bombardment with artillery missiles.”

The scene shifted to the legs of a Phoenix Hawk surrounded by a field of debris. “And this is the same ‘Mech after a lucky shot with an SRM hit the torso ammo-bins. The armour is slightly better than our current Ausf R standards but not hugely. The MechWarrior ejected safely, by the way. It’s unlikely he’ll make the mistake of standing still to engage an infantry position again, assuming he’s ever allowed back in a ‘Mech.”

Another click of the controls and they were looking at the familiar sight of a Hunter light tracked missile carrier, although there was something off about the missiles in the turrets. “I mentioned artillery missiles a moment ago. If you have a target designator, these are your new best friend. The turret contains ten artillery missiles which can carry high explosive warheads for conventional artillery firing for effect and armour piercing warheads that can punch a rather large hole through the armour of most ‘Mechs. The range isn’t on par with ballistic artillery but they’re a lot easier to move around – the Hunter can keep up with a Scorpion light tank quite easily – and most of your regimental combat teams will have a full battalion divided between their combat commands.”

Victor blinked. He’d noticed that the artillery courses seemed quite full at the Nagelring. The usual artillery allocation for a Regimental Combat Team was usually only a single company. If this was going to be rolled out for all the AFFC eventually, there was going to be a lot of demand for artillery officers. In fact, there was going to be even more demand for those artillery missiles. Ten shots loaded would mean that in any sustained operation reloading would be critical.

“Sounds pretty good,” Phelan muttered.

“Sounds expensive,” Victor replied. “I wonder how they reload under fire.”

“I guess you’ll find out – in simulation – before I do.” Phelan shut his mouth with a click of teeth as he saw Morgan frowning up at the back corner of the room where they were sitting.


Tworivers, Gotterdammerung
Greater Valkyrate
24 September 3049

The imaginatively named settlement was nestled between two rivers where they met the north coast of Gotterdammerung’s largest sea (which wasn’t really all that impressive). The rivers and shoreline provided some degree of security for more than halt the town’s perimeter but since the wider river was less than two hundred metres wide and perhaps eight deep at them most, neither had significantly impeded Patricia ‘Patsy’ Camancho’s company as they jumped across – or waded through – the southern water.

That had been an hour ago and Patsy was doing her best to ignore the still burning wrecks of three APCs outside the town’s armoury as she used her Phoenix Hawk’s hands to help load up two hover trucks with the loot.

“Seems kind of pointless, Patsy,” Paula Rubenstein observed as she stood watch in her Locust. “The weapons here wouldn’t be enough to arm a small town militia down in the FedCom – it’s not remotely enough to justify the pay. And if we’re taking the grain from the granary -” the muzzle of her ‘Mech’s laser tracked in that direction for a minute, “- why are we leaving crates of almost out of date field rations?”

“Weren’t you listening to the brief?”

“Nope. I was sat next to Cowboy and you know keeping an eye on him is a fulltime affair.”

Patsy sighed to herself. “The field rations are enough that the town won’t starve this year, and if the locals are smart enough they’ll be able to hide them from the Valkyrate’s tax collectors. But without grain they’ll have nothing to plant next year so long term this area’s going to take a severe hit to the food supply and the economy in general. And if Morgaine wants to keep control down here, she’ll have to replace her bully boys and their gear, which is a drain on who she can send out to back up raids like the ones she’s been making into the Tamar March.”

“But won’t the pirates just carry out more raids for food?”

“Food’s bulky, Paula. Most pirates don’t have the time or patience to do that. And what do you want to bet that the Fox has quietly reinforced garrisons on the main agricultural exporters in this part of the FedCom?”

“Well I guess that’s clever.” Paula turned her ‘Mech and walked it along the square. “Seems kind of hard on the locals. They didn’t have any say in pirates running things around here. “

Patsy declined to reply since, of course, Paula was quite correct. She was saved from further comment when Cowboy cut onto the company channel. “Patsy, sweetheart, we’ve got ‘Mechs coming in from the north. I make it three heavy and a pair of lights, but they’re moving kind of fast – about eighty clicks.”

“Got it, Cowboy. Fall back into the town.” Patsy looked down at the crew securing the trucks and flipped her external speakers. “Time’s up. Get the trucks going for the dropships now, we have ‘Mechs incoming and you don’t want to be anywhere near when they arrive.”

Three heavies, but from the speed they’d have to be low ends – not much above sixty tons can manage it and it generally means they’ve under-armed or under-armoured – or both. Two lights, which could be just about anything. Probably they’ll scout and try to pinpoint our ‘Mechs for the heavies.

Foxtrot Company had numbers on their side – eleven ‘Mechs since Diggity’s Hermes II was back on the dropship after an electrical fault fused the right knee actuator. Better than two to one odds but still... “Paula, take Geronimo Jones and escort the trucks.” One Locust and one Ostscout wouldn’t add much firepower to the fight to come but they could keep up with the trucks pretty well and the latter’s sensors would pick up any flanking force trying to cut them off.”

“Are you sure, Patsy?”

“Sure as Captain’s bars, Paula. Git gone.” She straightened her Phoenix Hawk and headed for the northern edge of town, the side with no river or sea to guard it. There was a wall of sorts but honestly Patsy didn’t think it would stop determined infantry, much less a BattleMech.

“They all look pretty determined,” warned Cowboy, his Wasp nestled behind the wall with only his cockpit above the concrete barrier.

Patsy saw them for herself. No designs she recognised – the warbook suggested with low confidence that she might be looking at a pair of modified Warhammers and a Thunderbolt – deployed in a v-formation with two reverse-legged designs like Paula’s Locust but evidently much larger ranging forwards on the flanks. All five ‘Mechs had a dull olive green paint scheme and an emblem she couldn’t make out at this distance.

“I’m guessing they know we’re here,” she observed as one of the two Wolverines in her company brushed against a house in the MechWarrior’s rush to reach the wall. The front of the house practically tore off at the encounter. “Dammit, Bobby.”

“What the hell does it matter?”

“I don’t care about the house, but stop damaging Skin Walker’s armour right before a scrap.”

“They look kind of weird. Probably someone’s frankensteined some wrecks together.”

“Maybe,” Patsy conceded. “They must have some big engines in there. Magscan says… hmm. Better than two hundred fifty tons between them. Can’t be much more than a fifth of it on the lightweights out on the flanks.”

“Thunderbolt and two Warhammers. They must have thinned out the armour to get them moving like that. We can take them. We have numbers and they’re just pirates.”

“Not so sure of that. Don’t recall any outfits out there with all green colour schemes.” Patsy punched the scan button on her radio. The initial response was static but finally the system pinpointed a frequency in use. Encoded, she concluded listening to the squeal of data garbage, but in use. “Anyway, we didn’t come out here to turn around and they probably know we’re here.”

“That is correct,” a sharp voice cut in. “Will you stravags exit the enclave to do battle or shall we drag you out like rats?”

“Hey, dontcha go calling the Captain a stravak or whatevah!” snapped Cowboy.

“Shut up, Cowboy.” Patsy glanced at the terrain. It was fairly flat, mostly farmland which had evidently been harvested recently. Not much cover and while the mission wasn’t to wreck the town, most of the locals were under cover anyway and the more damage that was done, the worse for the Valkyrate, particularly if they were the ones doing the wrecking. “Y’all can come and get us.”

There was no reply but the incoming ‘Mechs spread out further, the flanking lights heading for the riverbank.

Bobby the Wolf propped his Wolverine’s autocannon over the edge of the wall and Patsy did the same with the large laser in her own ‘Mech’s fist. “One salvo at long range,” she ordered her company, “Then get back into the buildings. If you don’t have anything with decent range, get in cover now.”

She zoomed in her targeter over the central ‘Mech. Thunderbolts were well armoured usually, but Bobby had a point about the tonnage of the engine they must have fitted. It still had the missile launcher balancing out the off-centre cockpit but both arms ended in substantial weapons. Not a normal Thunderbolt then, that had a large laser in one arm and a couple of machineguns in the other. How this could fit a more powerful engine as well as the missile launcher, while still packing what looked like an autocannon and - was that a PPC as well?

A charged beam fired out of the weapon – yep, definitely a PPC – and tore into the wall right under her laser. The autocannon shells arrived next and a dusting of small explosions marked the muzzle of the laser. Patsy ducked the Phoenix Hawk as LRMs rained down on her position.

“Those things have way too much firepower!” She saw red-light on her weapon display and grimaced. So much for the large laser. She’d be fighting with the mediums and the machineguns now – well, at least inside the town they’d be useful.

“Son of a puta!” growled Bobby and she saw he’d also ducked Skin Walker out of the line of fire. “Those lasers punched right through the wall!”

“Casey is down,” came another report. “PPC to the cockpit.”

Patsy blinked and her fists tightened on the joysticks. Jock Casey was kind of an ass, but he was also one of hers. Plus, losing his Valkyrie would cost them at least a little bit of firepower.

“Time to go for cover,” she snapped and crouched her ‘Mech before firing the backpack-like jump jets to scoot along the road without rising too high and exposing herself to return fire. Bobby the Wolf followed her, his heavier ‘Mech not as agile but the man’s hard-won battle experience keeping his head down.

Cowboy was lurking with his Stinger crouched behind what passed for an apartment building. The MechWarrior gestured for them to keeping going past them and Patsy raised the thumb of her Phoenix Hawk’s left hand. The intention was fairly obvious: draw one of the enemy in past Cowboy and let the Wasp work at its back. Between three of them… well, it would hurt, but not even a heavy ‘Mech was going to come out on top with odds like that.

There was a roar of more jump jets and the Not-Thunderbolt arced up and over the wall. Patsy spun and fired with both lasers, the temperature rising rapidly inside her cockpit. One scored a line ineffectually across the bicep of the ‘Mech. The other shot missed.

The enemy returned fire with even more accuracy. The PPC scored squarely on the rear of Skin Walker and there was a cascade of broken armour as the autocannon scored again, pockmarking the Wolverine’s back.

“Fucker! Fucker!” Bobby shouted as he skidded his ‘Mech right and into an alleyway.

Patsy cut left, mirroring him and avoiding further fire. “How bad is it?”

“Engine shielding. I’m running warm.” Normally a Wolverine could maintain excellent temperature control so that was a bit of a give-away.

Patsy flipped a switch. “Punch your BattleROMs to transmit updates to Paula and Geronimo. The rest of the battalion need to know what’s going on here. Whoever these people are, they’re not pirates – or at least not the pirates we knew about. Something tells me that the Feddies will pay a lot for data on them.”

“You’re talking like we’re not going to get out of this.” Bobby braced his ‘Mech near the corner and Patty held up the Phoenix Hawk’s hand, then lowered her fingers one at a time.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

The two medium ‘Mechs moved out as smoothly as if they’d practised the move and opened up with everything they had. At barely fifty metres, it was hard to miss. Armour fractured under lasers, under shells and under missiles but it didn’t seem to break.

“Yeehaw!” shouted Cowboy and his Wasp ran out from behind the cover of the buildings and jammed its laser into the back of the cockpit.

The Not-Thunderbolt staggered forwards a pace and then focused on Skin Walker again. Despite the short range it fired its LRMs and armour peeled away from the front of the Wolverine as the missiles blew holes. Deliberately the MechWarrior inside raised the arm with the PPC and as Bobby backpedalled, discharged the weapon directly at the ‘Mech’s leg where missiles had already battered the armour. The blaze of charged particles tore away through what was left of the protection, and Bobby almost lost control of the ‘Mech as myomers contracted irregularly under the charge.

“Get off him!” Patsy fired her lasers and machineguns again, shifting to one side to force the MechWarrior to turn his attention to her.

Cowboy brought his laser around again but the Not-Thunderbolt shifted sideways, taking the hit to the armour over its missile launcher.

“Sonuva-” Bobby’s comment was cut off as he exchanged autocannon fire with the larger ‘Mech. It had depressingly little effect. Then the missile rack fired again – they must be hot-loaded to be armed within these close quarters, LRMs were notoriously ineffectual at point-blank ranges – and savaged the armour, dropping Skinwalker onto its rear.

“What the hell is this guy made of?” Cowboy fired again, opening up with his SRMs and laser to no particular avail. “Fuck it. Let’s do this bronco-style.”

Patsy knew what he had in mind, knew that she didn’t have a hope in hell of convincing him not to do it. And she wasn’t entirely sure it was the wrong move. She fired her jump jets again and used them to hop back behind Bobby. The enemy MechWarrior seemed to have some degree of tunnel vision regarding the Wolverine and that might let her get away with standing and firing at him.

Her lasers both scored dead centre over the chest and her machineguns marked up the paintwork with a cascade of sparks even though there was no chance of penetrating at this range. Patsy’s eyes were fixed on the ‘Mech and behind it of Cowboy’s Wasp rising vertically behind it on jump-jets.

A Wasp’s low tonnage allowed even its relatively modest jump jets to propel it a hundred and eighty metres even vertically.

Cowboy used almost all of that capacity, holding just enough back to steer on the way down.

Gotterdamerung’s gravity dragged twenty tons of BattleMech down directly on top of the Not-Thunderbolt and with uncanny precision it landed with both feet, squarely on the cylindrical missile launcher.

The explosion masked both Cowboy and the enemy from view. Patsy took the opportunity to brace Bobby’s ‘Mech so he could bring it up right again. “Think he got him?”

The response came across the commline with the same sharp precision as before. “You did not. A warrior of Clan Jade Falcon takes more to kill than you bandits have.”

The crackling beam of the PPC lashed out and smashed into Bobby’s Wolverine, severing the damaged leg.

As the smoke cleared, Patsy could see the Not-Thunderbolt still standing, albeit with the left side of the ‘Mech a scorched and blasted wreck. At its feet lay the legless wreck of Cowboy’s Wasp.

The heavy ‘Mech stepped forward and deliberately brought one massively armoured foot down upon the cockpit.

“Bobby, punch out!”

“But…”

“NOW!”

“Oh jeeeessssssuuuusssss!” the foul-mouthed mercenary howled as his canopy exploded and he rocketed out of it at a very low angle. He was far too low for his chute to deploy but at the same time, he barely needed it, the ejection seat came down on its back and skidded along the road in a shower of sparks.

Patsy was right behind it, jinking from side to side to spoil the enemy’s aim.

“This is Captain Camancho!” she called on the battalion push. “We’ve been hit by unknown but very advanced BattleMechs. Nothing like them in the warbook. The trucks are on their way. Get them and get out of here. The rest of my company won’t make it back to the drop zone.”

“You know we can’t do that, Captain.”

“That’s a goddamn order,” she shouted down the radio as she dropped her Phoenix Hawk into a slide below a bolt of lightning from the enemy ‘Mech. “Get out and get help. We’ll go to ground.”

“Your father...”

“My father knows the regiment comes first. Comancho out!” Then she scrambled up and got her battered Phoenix Hawk into cover. “Get in the cockpit, Bobby. We’re going for the water. It’s our only chance to break contact.” Patsy switched to the company push. “All ‘Mechs, we’re bugging out. If your ‘Mech can keep water out of the vitals then head south. If not…” She swallowed. “If not, I’m sorry, you’ll need to buy us all the time you can.”

Only Stearman, Green and Ortega confirmed they were heading for the beach.

Moving at almost top speed and weaving between buildings to avoid line of sight, Patsy managed to reach the shoreline in barely more than a minute. The first thing she saw there was Stearman’s battered Commando, a melon-sized metal slug bursting through its rear armour.

The light ‘Mech dropped like a bowling pin.

“They’ve got us bracketed!” Clancy Green’s Wolverine was wading backwards into the water, already knee deep in surf.

The flankers, Patsy realised. Those two lights, one each side. They must have reached the shoreline and they’re either side of us.

As she realised that there was a crash and something slammed into the left leg of her Phoenix Hawk, shattering the armour. With the limb no longer water-tight, escape into the sea was no longer an option.

Turning to her left, Patsy broke into a run towards the enemy ‘Mech. More than half a kilometre, well outside her range but the elderly Phoenix Hawk was still fast enough to close that distance.

A salvo of LRMs arced up and over her, thundering down on top of the ‘Mech that Patsy dubbed a Not-Locust. Ortega was still fighting, his Dervish backed up against one of the fishing docks, giving her fire support. “Go Patsy, go!”

Two lasers flashed out, ripping into her armour mercilessly and Patsy feathered her jets for a moment, barely side-slipping another shot from that ridiculous ballistic gun.

“Fuckers are heavily armed,” Bobby grumbled from behind her.

“I noticed!” She fired both lasers while she had them and the two beams connected with the already damaged right arm of the Not-Locust, which exploded satisfactorily and took the gun with it.

Bobby whooped a war cry and Patsy grinned savagely as the enemy ‘Mech started to back up.

“No you don’t, hon’. No you don’t.”

They had barely time for one more exchange of shots before she reached him. One shot dug deep into the Phoenix Hawk and Patsy felt the heat spike as a result. Reactor shielding took a hit. One of her shots went astray, the other seared into the other ‘Mech’s right flank, the MechWarrior having turned slightly to shield the working weapons on the left.

That didn’t help him when Patsy used her ‘Mech’s hands to grab the forearm below the elbow and above the wrist, yanking it up and back at an angle the designers never intended to accommodate.

Under the force of a ‘Mech half again its size, the Not-Locust’s joints seized and tore. Patsy yanked again and the limb came loose.

“This is for Cowboy, you son of a bitch!”

She brought the arm down directly on the cockpit and saw the armour buckle.

“And this is for Casey.”

A second downward arc and the cockpit stove in under her improvised club.

“And this is…”

“He’s dead, Captain, he’s dead!” roared Bobby. “The other one, the -”

Just over seven hundred metres away the other Not-Locust caught Patsy’s Phoenix Hawk squarely in the small of the back with its laser, right over the ammo bin for the machineguns. The rounds went up, tearing through what was left of the reactor shielding.

Bobby screamed briefly as safety systems triggered and rockets propelled Patsy’s ejection seat out of the cockpit. There was no accommodation for protecting anyone in the jump-seat behind her but any injury he suffered was cut short by a rush of superheated air expanding from the ruptured fusion reactor.

With savage deliberation, the remaining Not-Locust blew Captain Patricia Camancho’s ejection seat out of the air with its autocannon.


Sigfried Glacier Reserve Environs, Tharkad
Donegal March, Lyran Commonwealth
18 October 3049

The bleat of the visiphone woke Hanse Davion from a very satisfying night’s rest. He and Melissa had managed to coordinate a two day gap in their schedules and escaped the court up to the old hunting lodge that Victor had used as a retreat while he was a student.

Forty-eight hours of freedom was a rare luxury for either of them, much less both – Hanse wasn’t sure they’d had that opportunity since Katrina Steiner’s death in 3040. Somehow he wasn’t surprised at getting a call in the middle of the night – just disappointed.

Grabbing the phone from its stand before it could ring again, the First Prince padded to the door, pressing it to his ear and thumbing the audio only button. “Just a minute.” No alarms were going off so it couldn’t be an immediate crisis.

“Who is it?” asked Melissa sleepily.

“I’m sorry to wake you, your highness,” said Justin mildly.

“Don’t you ever sleep, Justin?”

Melissa sat up in the bed. “What’s the matter?”

Hanse looked at his wife admiringly and also ruefully. The spirit was willing but something told him the minute was all wrong. “Let me get you on speaker, Justin, so we can both hear you.”

He returned to the bedside and adjusted the visiphone accordingly. “Okay, we’re ready.”

“It’s them.”

The Archon and the First Prince exchanged looks. “You’re sure?”

“The Seventeenth Recon Regiment were carrying out some reprisal raids on the Valkyrate for Duke Kelswa. One of their companies ran into five unknown ‘Mechs on Gotterdammerung. Fortunately Captain Camancho had the wit to realise she was outmatched and she ordered their dropship to take off and transmitted her BattleROMs before she was taken out.”

“And they’re the Clans?”

Justin nodded. “We’re still going over the data in detail but everything matches so far. One Summoner, two Hellbringers, two Kit Foxes. The colours match Natasha’s information on Clan Jade Falcon and we have what might be Jade Falcon insignia – we’re still trying to clean up the data to confirm that. Also the handful of transmissions suggest the right speech patterns.”

“Jade Falcons.” Hanse frowned. “Natasha said they were fairly prominent in the pro-invasion faction, didn’t she?”

“That’s right. If they’re this close to the Inner Sphere, it seems likely they’ll be prepared to come the rest of the way. I’ve taken the liberty of issuing a war warning to all units in the Tamar March.”

Melissa had pulled a computer-pad out of her side table and was checking through data. “The Seventeenth Recon Regiment are commanded by a Colonel Comancho, Justin. Any relation?”

“Captain Patricia Comancho was his daughter, your highness. And an excellent MechWarrior, I might add. She took out one of the Kit Foxes almost singlehandedly in a damaged Phoenix Hawk.”

“Then we owe her regiment a debt. Without this warning…”

Hanse nodded and reached for the clothes he’d been wearing the previous night. “I’ll call for our car. If we leave now we should be back at the Triad in time for breakfast. For now, pass on all the information so far to Nondi Steiner and transmit it on to Morgan and Ardan. Tell them to send out a general war warning to all units and cancel the Operation Ragnarok war games.”

“Add Candace to that list,” Melissa added as she left the bed. “And tell Nondi I want a command conference with her and all her available department heads right after breakfast.”

“Understood. Anything else?”

“Nothing for now, but be ready to attend the meeting.” Hanse ended the call. “This is it then.”

“I’d hoped we’d have longer.”

The First Prince tilted his head slightly. “In some respects, so do I. In others…”

“What do you mean?”

“If it was five or ten years ago we’d not be half as prepared for them. But if this hadn’t happened for another five or ten years then Victor and Peter would have almost certainly been on the frontlines. This way there’s at least a chance I can deal with the Clans before our children have to.”

Melissa looked at her husband and then pressed a button on her phone. “Meg. Sorry to wake you, but have the staff get the car ready. My husband and I are leaving for the Triad in an hour. We’ll eat on the road.”

“An hour?” asked Hanse once the phone was down. “We can be on the road…”

“Hanse.” She started peeling off her nightdress, necessary in the cold weather. “Take your pants off.”


ComStar Compound, Hilton Head Island
North America, Terra
19 October 3049

The Precentor-Martial of ComStar was decades older than the Primus but he looked infinitely more vigorous than she felt. A decade and a half of transforming the ComGuards from a mix of mercenaries and inexperienced acolytes into a professional army had only empowered him while Myndo Waterly felt that the same time struggling against the ever-rising menace of the Federated Commonwealth had sapped away at her.

Anastasius Focht bowed deeply and kissed the Primus’ hand respectfully. “My apologies that I could not be here sooner, Primus. I’ve only made a preliminary study of the data you sent me but I concur that it’s very disturbing.”

“Since I contacted you, the matter has grown more pressing.” Myndo Waterly turned from Focht and gestured towards the holographic projector in the middle of the room. Reactivated, the projector brought up a complete map of the Inner Sphere. Trails of light were expanding across those parts marked in the gold of the Federated Commonwealth.

“Hanse Davion has issued a formal war warning to all units of the AFFC, paying for maximum priority communication to units in the Tamar and Draconis Marches. In addition, the war games currently taking place in the Capellan March and St Ives Compact have been cancelled, although word hasn’t reached them yet.”

“Interesting.” Focht examined the projectors display for a moment. “It seems that Hanse Davion has more information than he has shared. However remarkable the clash here,” he gestured at the cluster of pirate kingdoms core-ward of the Tamar March and Free Rasalhague Republic, “That wouldn’t usually indicate concerns here.” He moved his hand down to indicate the Draconis March. “And if his concern was the Combine then why not alert the Terran March.”

“Indeed.” Waterly returned to her desk. “I know my own reasons for concern at both the initial reports and this new development, but I’d prefer to hear your own thoughts before I influence them.”

“Of course. With your permission?” Focht inserted a data disc into the projector. “Captain Camacho had close range footage of two of the enemy BattleMechs, in one case with considerable torso damage that let us see the internals – admittedly not in working order, but very useful nonetheless.”

The projector lit up with two views of the blocky ‘Mech sporting the missile pod and offset cockpit. One view show it intact, the other with the savaged left torso caused by the ammunition explosion.

“Despite the resemblance, this isn’t a Thunderbolt. It’s taller and heavier, the armour protection is at least as good and rather than the secondary weapon systems usually fitted, it adds a third heavy weapon system. Both the size and the heavier armament would generally make it difficult to maintain the same speed but this ‘Mech isn’t merely faster, it also fits jump jets and does so with no noticeable reduction in armour protection.”

“Are you saying that this ‘Mech is more advanced than those deployed by the AFFC or by the ComGuards?” enquired Waterly sharply.

“At least marginally superior to our own forces. The full capacity of the AFFC has been frustratingly hard to pin down, as we’ve discussed. Some aspects of the machine would certainly be within their capacity – the autocannon is a multi-munitions type which the SLDF perfected and we’ve retained with the ComGuards. It’s been confirmed that such autocannon are being fitted to ‘Mechs in the AFFC. However, the key to the impressive performance of this ‘Mech are the internal structures.”

Focht reached into the hologram and indicated each component. “Those structural members are broader than those used in most ‘Mechs because they’re a variation on SLDF endo-steel structures. The same materials are used in advanced heatsinks and given the infra-red signature of this ‘Mech it almost certainly has them. Also the reactor shielding extends much further to the sides than normal – again, bulkier but lighter than the commonly used hardware of used by the Successor States. We have all of these technologies although the preliminary figures suggest that whoever built this may have a marginal advantage. The Federated Commonwealth is definitely working on them – their latest armour refits are effectively equal to our own – but how far they’ve been able to deploy them and exactly how effective their internals are has been very hard to pin down.”

“You’re telling me that we can’t build this, that someone has new and more advanced technology than ComStar.”

“We could build something similar, although it would take time and possibly be slightly inferior – the numbers are still being reviewed. But yes, we have to assume that whoever they are, they’re at least as advanced scientifically as ComStar.” Focht folded his hands behind his back. “It doesn’t surprise me that Hanse Davion feels that this may be a major threat. Five of these ‘Mechs decisively defeated more than twice their numbers. While the Seventeenth Recon Regiment aren’t a first-class regiment, they’re no pushovers either. There was an entire battalion of Ryan’s pirates on Gotterdammerung as of our last reports from the area – given the boastful nature of pirates, if they were responsible for defeating the mercenaries they’d have made it known quickly. In fact there’s no news of them, suggesting that this is a third party who took out Ryan’s forces quickly and easily.”

“That leads us rather quickly to the most important question then: who are these people? Your thoughts have thus far been largely in accord with my own. Judging from what we have seen, do you think that these could be Kerensky’s forces returning?”

“The possibility has been raised by my staff,” Focht admitted. “However, when General Kerensky left the Inner Sphere with the bulk of the Star League Defence Force, they were last seen at New Samarkand. While it’s possible they moved core-wards after they entered the periphery, there’s no reason to expect that they did so, and returning via Tamar would be a rather indirect route.”

“Certainly the SLDF technology would have given them a starting point comparable to our own capabilities, but what departed were an army and their support personnel, not scientists with research and manufacturing facilities. It’s been questioned over the years how viable the Star League’s armies could have been as colonists, in fact.”

“Given the immense destruction of the Amaris Crisis and the First Succession War, it’s entirely possible that entire groups and facilities we think were destroyed actually left with Kerensky,” Waterly riposted. “You say that they could have travelled core-wards such that Tamar is a sensible route back to us. They could have had scientists with them that we’re unaware of. Surely it’s premature to rule out the possibility.”

“We’ve ruled nothing out at this stage, Primus. Not even the possibility that these are non-humans, far-fetched as that might seem. If it is Kerensky’s heirs, or some other colonial group we’re unaware of, they could have had centuries to build up the research and manufacturing facilities to produce these ‘Mechs. Despite the efforts of the Explorer Corps over the last century, we really know appallingly little about the deep periphery.”

“The same thoughts must have crossed Hanse Davion’s mind. If Kerensky’s forces are returning, the Draconis March would be the closest worlds of the Federated Commonwealth to the point of departure, while the Tamar March is the closest area to this new event. That may explain the prioritisation of alerting these areas.”

Waterly nodded and walked to the window. “And what if this is a cover for preparations to launch a new war of aggression? The source of this information is, after all, a mercenary regiment in the service to the Federated Commonwealth. It’s a convenient excuse for him to move forces adjacent to the borders of the Draconis Combine.”

“I believe we can be confident, from the nature of Colonel Camancho’s report, that his daughter is indeed dead. It’s not impossible that the unit responsible were AFFC troops in disguise, but I don’t see that this would be of significant benefit to him. Takashi Kurita and his son Theodore may give reports of unknown ‘Mechs in the Periphery some credence, but the heightened alert on their borders with the Federated Commonwealth will have them look towards that, not towards the periphery. That being the case, it’s highly probable that we are dealing with a genuine outside group.”

“Then we need to find out their scope and their intentions. If this is a small group and they have limited forces, so much the better, but the SLDF army was far larger than all the regiments of all the Successor States combined. If they have anything approaching that scale of forces…”

“It isn’t very likely that we’re dealing with numbers on that scale, Primus. The SLDF was supported by thousands of inhabited systems and trillions of Star League citizens. Still, even a force the size of, say, the Taurian Defence Force or the Kungsarme, could cause impressive losses to the House Militaries as they stand.”

Myndo Waterly nodded. “Not necessarily a bad thing if they were to cut the Fox down to size, but there would be other repercussions. I’ll order the Explorer Corps to make this their first priority. We must make contact with these people and learn more about them.”

“With your permission, I’d like to head out myself. The ComGuards are deployed in the area and if this does lead to fighting it’s not clear if they’ll respect the neutrality of our HPG stations. If I’m on the scene then…”

“You’re too valuable where you are, Precentor-Martial.”

“If I was irreplaceable, I would be serving you poorly Primus. There are many fine young officers who can be promoted if need be. Meanwhile, my experience makes me the best choice to assess the capabilities of these intruders first hand. Not to mention that if we do have to fight against them to defend our HPGs, I’ve the rank to deal with the high command of the Kungsarme and AFFC where a more junior Precentor might be forced into a subordinate position.”

The Primus frowned and then nodded. “Very well, but only as far as Rasalhague. If first contact is made by the Explorer Corps and all goes well, you can meet with these people after that. But I don’t want to send them the man with the greatest extent of knowledge of our military preparations until we have a better idea who they are.”

Focht bowed his head. “Blake’s will be done, Primus.”

“Yes,” she agreed. Blake’s will. And mine!


Frankfurt Drop-Port, Maxie’s Planet
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
23 October 3049

Kai Allard-Liao blinked as the early morning sunlight stabbed at eyes accustomed to the carefully regulated lights aboard the dropship. They’d arrived only shortly after sunrise.

“We’ll have your ‘Mech out in just a few minutes, Leutenant,” the loadmaster assured him. “There’s a heavy cargo mover on its way from the terminal as we speak and they’ll deliver it to the military loading zone just over there.” The hirsute man pointed over to a line of heavily reinforced warehouses, all spaced such that an accidental detonation within was unlikely to affect the others.

“Thanks.”

“Nothing to it. We do this run every month or so, there’s almost always something or someone military coming to or from Maxie’s Planet. Price of having a Regimental Combat Team here, I guess.”

“I’d imagine so.” Kai glanced around. “Looks like they’re having a busy day. Three other dropships loading?”

The man shrugged. “They look like they’re loading people not freight so it shouldn’t affect us. Not sure why so many people would be getting off-planet though.” He paused and looked at Kai questioningly.

“I’m not sure either.” Maxie’s Planet was only a jump away from the Free Rasalhague Republic but it didn’t seem likely that the Kungsarme would try to raid the planet while the Eleventh Lyran Guards were posted here – more than a hundred BattleMechs, three regiments of armour and five of infantry should handle almost anything short of an outright invasion. “I should call in and see if there’s anyone waiting for me.”

“Sure, we’re patched into the planetary commlines now.” The loadmaster ushered Kai into a cramped alcove that evidently served as an impromptu office for him. “Here.” He offered a handset. “Just dial nine and it’ll put you through to the terminal’s administration centre.”

“Thanks.” Kai dialled immediately and asked the clerk on the other end if there was anyone from the Lyran Guards here to pick him up,

“Pick you up? Hang on a moment.” The hold music didn’t last long. “There’s supposed to be a Feldwebel here, I’ll see if I can find him and call you back.”

Kai thanked the woman and hung up. “They’ll ring me back,” he told the loadmaster.

“They’re not too bad about that here. The cargo hauler’s almost here, I’ll go ahead and get the crane going.”

The newly graduated Leutenant watched with fascination tinged with apprehension as his ‘Mech was lifted carefully off the ground using the dropship’s overhead crane and slowly moved out onto the top of the powerful flatbed. More than sixty tons of equipment wasn’t something to move casually, even in this day and age. If this was a military transport he could have simply walked the ‘Mech off but the relatively low ceiling of the cargo hold here would have made that impractical.

The phone rang and he lifted it. “Leutenant Allard.”

“Ah, Leutenant. Feldwebel Jewell says he’ll meet you at Building B-3 in the military loading zone. Our drivers will know where that is. Is that okay?”

She hung up almost before he gave her an affirmative, but she was right and the driver didn’t have any difficulty finding Building B-3 for him, which proved to be a small ‘Mech hanger.

“It’s pretty standard – any time we’ve a civilian shipper bringing in something for the Guards, it comes to row B,” the driver explained. “Not so many ‘Mechs but tanks, crates of supplies – pretty big ones too sometimes. Wouldn’t say your Mech’s even the biggest thing we’ve ever brought in.”

“I’d be surprised if it was,” Kai replied absently and then straightened as he saw a small cluster of people by the entrance. “Are those… children?”

“Either that or they started recruiting real young,” the driver said with a cackle and slowed to a halt so Kai could jump down.

To Kai’s relief, one of the four was wearing AFFC uniform, a Feldwebel’s rank pin on the same white-horsehead-on-blue epaulettes that marked Kai’s own shoulders, the emblem of the Lyran Guards. The other three, though, were a civilian woman and two children.

The Feldwebel saluted. “Leutenant Allard, I’m David Jewell. Sorry for…” he gestured to the civilians, “but my family are shipping out today and I wanted as much family time as possible before that.”

“Shipping out?”

“Yes, sir. You hadn’t heard?”

“I’ve been on dropships for the last two months.” Kai looked back at the truck. “Look, let me get my ‘Mech squared away and we can get your family somewhere a little more… child friendly, okay?” He didn’t want to imagine the consequences if the little boy decided to wander in front of the heavy truck at the wrong moment.

“Thanks, sir.” Jewell coloured.

Twenty minutes later, Kai found himself squeezed against the truck door with Jewell’s wife Katherine next to him and Jewell between her and the driver as they rode back to the terminal. The children were in theory in their parent’s laps but the boy, David Junior, was at least half in Kai’s as he peered eagerly out of the window.

“So what’s the story, Feldwebel?”

“We got a war-warning, sir. Just two days ago, along with advice to evacuate military dependents back to our home worlds or at least somewhere deeper inside the Commonwealth.”

“War warning with who?”

“Didn’t say, but it’s gotta be the Combine. Who else is there? Rasalhague isn’t crazy enough to start anything unless the snakes were backing them, and probably not even then.”

“I wouldn’t have thought so. But why evacuate dependents from here? We’re the far side of the Republic from the Combine.”

“That’s what I said,” Kathrine asserted. “But worryguts here insists on not taking the chance.”

“I figure it’s more like we’re gonna get reassigned in a hurry.” Jewell glanced over at the driver. “No offense to Maxie’s Planet but if the balloon goes up, I’d prefer to have my family somewhere we’ve got roots. We’re from Coventry and Katrina and the kids are guaranteed free military housing there, plus having both our parents there… you know, just in case. Coventry’s even further from the Combine than Tharkad is.”

“It’ll be a long trip won’t it?”

“Not so bad.” Jewell looked over at him. “The dropships out there are chartered to go to Sudeten – that’s the hub for all military dependents. There’s pretty regular shipping from there, military and civilian, all the way back to Tharkad and then Coventry. Couple of weeks to get to Sudeten and about the same to reach Coventry, I guess.”

Kai frowned. “I suppose it depends on the jumpships. There’ll probably be command circuits being formed up to move troops – no reason they can’t move families in the other direction.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Katrina Steiner was still in charge,” grumbled Katherine. “I bet it’s that Hanse Davion, wanting worlds back from the Combine after he lost so many in the last war.”

David Jewell Senior shot an embarrassed look at Kai past his wife. “Now hon’…”

Kai smiled and waved off the remark. Hopefully the whole thing would blow over and the Jewells would be reunited soon. The Sandovals might want another war with the Draconis Combine, but they were just about the only people in the Federated Commonwealth who did. Probably Haakon Magnusson had said something provocative and the whole war warning was just to try to remind him to tone down the rhetoric about worlds he wanted to claim for the Republic.


The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal March, Lyran Commonwealth
13 November 3049

“Phase one redeployments of the AFFC are underway,” Ardan Sortek reported, using a pointer to illuminate locations on the map of the Inner Sphere in the centre of the table. “By the end of the year we’ll have four Ceti Hussar, five Deneb Light Cavalry and ten of the Federated Commonwealth Regimental Combat Teams in the Tamar March, supported by the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry and four regiments of the Wolf Dragoons.”

He lifted his pointer and looked up at Hanse and Melissa. “We’ve reached the point where we need to decide on our defensive line and whether phase two redeployments go to Tamar or if we need to reinforce the outer end of the Draconis March.”

“Thank you, Ardan.” Hanse looked at the map and then over at Justin. “I think the second question takes priority here. Justin, what information do we have?”

“Very little at this point.” The Minister of Intelligence tapped controls and two stars lit up on the map. “There’s been no pirate activity, or communication of any kind from the Valkyrate, the Oberon Confederation or even the Elysian Fields. Two exploratory parties are on their way to drop by on Von Strang’s World and Star’s End. Unfortunately, the likelihood of their managing to return data is fairly slim if the Clans really are present. Both parties have been fully briefed on Clan traditions and hopefully if they do make contact they can… bargain for favourable terms of combat.”

“So the only actual evidence we have of the Clans is one set of recordings from a mercenary regiment?” asked Nondi Steiner.

“That and the atypical silence out of the bandit kingdoms.”

“And we’re sure this isn’t faked somehow?”

“Colonel Comancho’s people had absolutely no idea what they encountered. They only shared the data in the hope of salvaging something from what was otherwise a pretty bad defeat. They wouldn’t have the information to construct such a fraud.” Justin shook his head. “It’s possible, of course, that reasons for the Clans presence of Gotterdammerung isn’t what we believe, but they were definitely present.”

“Most probably they’re waiting for their frontline forces.”

Heads turned to where Natasha Kerensky was sitting, chair propped back and boot heels on the side of her workstation.

“Could you expand on that?” asked Ardan mildly.

She swung her feet down and leant forwards. “They’re dealing with bandits. That isn’t prestigious enough for the Clans to deploy their best troops. In their view there’s no honour to securing forward bases and getting rid of vermin like Morgaine or Ryan. So they probably sent second tier units ahead to clear the way for them. I’m surprised we’re even seeing OmniMechs in use, at a guess they wanted to blood some of their newer warriors on something easy so they could see what they were made of before giving them a place at joining the invasion force.”

“You’re saying that these are their equivalent of a training cadre?”

“Something like that. Probably they’ve got solahma units to do the infantry work, but most of them are probably right out of the sibkos.”

Nondi shook her head. â€

What makes it intriguing is that the FedCom are the only ones who know the Clans are coming, unless I missed something.

Ducal Palace, St Ives
St Ives Compact
15 November 3049

Victor swore under his breath and stuck the left arm of his namesake ‘Mech out of cover to fire the lasers at the ‘Mech overlooking his position.

For a change, one of the lasers scored a hit and his displays suggested a second hit to the left arm would penetrate. Unfortunately, the Centurion he was facing didn’t have anything particularly significant in that arm. At this range, all that would reach him in her weapon suite were the LRMs and with fiendish accuracy, a flight of five smacked against the armour of his own left arm.

Granting that Victor’s armour was considerably thicker, it would have been significantly more use if that hadn’t been the first shot he’d landed on Cassandra.

“Your sister,” he advised, “Is a witch.”

Kuan-yin Allard-Liao, also in a Victor, triggered her autocannon at the incoming heavy ‘Mechs piloted by her mother and younger brother. “Prince Victor, after knowing my sister all our lives, I can assure you she is simply that skilled.” Then she added something in mandarin that Victor thought he should probably not repeat in polite company. “Although I’ll admit she’s diabolical in father’s ‘Mech.”

“Want some support?”

“I’d love it. But if you move then Cassandra will be all over our rears and believe me, that isn’t something either of us need.”

Victor grimaced and conceded the point. The advanced assault autocannon mounted in the right arm of each of their Victors was absolutely devastating at point blank ranges, but Yen-lo-Wang had been upgraded to mount one as well. In fact, the famous duelling ‘Mech had been brought up to the standard of a new construction Centurion fresh out of Corean’s New Avalon production lines. “Point taken, but if we don’t do something about the Cataphracts…”

“We are in rather an unfavourable position.” She paused. “Quintus can be occasionally reckless. I’ll give him what seems to be an opportunity. When I give the word, please join me and we’ll concentrate our fire on him.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Checking his display, Victor tried to pick out Cassandra’s position in the rubble and broken buildings of the simulated battlefield. It wasn’t easy – there was too much metal for magscan to be useful and she wasn’t firing enough to seriously strain the powerful heatsinks built into her reactor.

Okay, if sensors aren’t going to work, try to get inside her head… What would be the worst possible place for her to be…?

Victor scanned the surroundings and then picked out the best route for approaching under cover, behind a crumbling brick wall easily twice the height of a BattleMech. There was a crackle of static on his sensors that gave away that Quintus was moving close enough for this ECM suite to start affecting targeting. If they were co-ordinating – and why wouldn’t they? – then Cassandra might feel she had the opportunity to get close before being detected. In which case…

He raked the base of the wall with his autocannon, the powerful shells tearing a gouge out that was certainly more than the structural integrity of the bricks could withstand. It was about even dice which way the wall would fall but Victor loaded the dice by firing both his SRM launchers and several tons of bricks crashed on top of Yen-lo-Wang.

“Victor! Now!”

Slamming his feet down on the jump jets, Victor brought the Victor around and over the cover behind him to reveal Quintus blazing away with at Kuan-Yin’s position with his own autocannon and his PPC at a range of under three hundred metres. Victor squared the crosshairs as the knees of his ‘Mech absorbed the impact of the landing and fired everything.

The temperature soared – even with the powerful heatsinks fitted to the eighty-ton machine, a full alpha strike pushed it well into the red zone and Victor felt sweat dripping down his face as he slapped the override switch to prevent the reactor from shutting him down.

Quintus reacted quickly, the teenager throwing up both of his Cataphract’s arms to shield himself. It worked, but at a cost – the limbs were reduced to skeletal stubs by the combined fire of Victor and his elder sister.

That was when Candace stepped her own Cataphract out of cover and unlimbered her own weapons directly into Victor’s already damaged left arm. The status display flickered and then updated: one laser gone, not to mention that significant actuator damage would make aiming the remaining laser somewhat challenging.

Victor feathered his jump-jets to move back into cover and came face to face with Yen-lo-Wang. His reflexive snap-shot with the autocannon hammered into the cityscape behind her while her muzzle tracked un-erringly into the face plate of his ‘Mech.

The simulator rocked sharply and the main lights went out, controls dead in Victor’s hands. “BattleMech destroyed,” a recorded voice announced as the temperature inside began to drop now that heaters were no longer simulating the sensations of an overheating ‘Mech.

With a groan he started to unstrap himself from the seat, removing the medical sensors from his biceps and thighs. Only when the safety harness was completely removed did he take off the heavy neurohelmet and set that on its shelf above.

The hatch of the simulator hissed as it opened – in another aspect of the verisimilitude of the pods, they over-pressurised in the same way as a real cockpit would – and Victor clambered out and onto the gantry. As he made his way along it towards the locker room, two more pods opened and he saw Quintus start to emerge from his own simulator. Victor paused and bowed slightly to the third pod when Kuan-Yin’s head was visible. “Sorry that didn’t go better for us.”

She smiled and started unpinning her long dark hair from the bun she wore it in under a neurohelmet. “Even with these new technologies, three on two is a difficult proposition, Victor. If you’ll excuse me, I’d rather shower before mother and Cassandra are done, otherwise the after-action debriefing will start in the locker room.”

Kuan-Yin turned and walked away from Victor and Quintus, the two locker rooms being at either end of the gantry.

“Your mother and Cassandra aren’t done yet?”

“Last ‘Mech standing rule,” Quintus explained. “Once one team are eliminated, the winners turn on each other. Father doesn’t particularly like that but mother says it’s ‘part of our political education’.”

“Ah.” Liao, Victor reminded himself and wondered if that was how Candace had interacted with her own siblings. Tormano Liao was a not infrequent visitor to Tharkad, having taken up the role of St Ives ambassador to the Archon’s court when he wasn’t busy expanding House Liao’s financial portfolio in the Commonwealth. Somehow it was hard to see that smooth, cultured man engaged in political infighting.

That might explain why the dominance of the House fell to his sisters, of course, but equally it might simply be that he has a very good façade.

Thoughts such as this followed Victor through his shower and he was halfway dressed when his personal comm started to vibrate. “Victor,” he answered curtly.

“No debriefing today, your highness.” Candace’s voice held a note of tension. “Please come to my office with Quintus. I’ve had a message from New Avalon that I wish to discuss.”

While the ‘Mech simulators were one of the many palace facilities buried in among the deep bunkers of the ducal palace, Candace Liao’s office was on the second floor of one of the central spires. Rebuilt after a Second Succession War raid by the same Davion Assault Guards regiment Victor was now part of, the palace was heavily fortified and many of the granite and marble pagodas hid concealed weapon emplacements. Candace’s own windows looked out on a modest garden in the chinese style.

Candace herself sat with her back to this view, behind the large mahogany desk that she handled most correspondence at. The room’s two couches had been moved from the walls to form a V-shape with the desk at the wider end. Cassandra and Kuan-Yin had claimed one of the two couches so Quintus and Victor seated themselves opposite the girls.

“Victor, your father’s asked me to inform you of the reasons that the recent war games were cancelled. If the situation continues, it’s likely that the rest of your regiment will be briefed in soon, but he wanted you to have advance notice.”

“I’ve been wondering.”

“He also apologises to you and I that certain latitudes he’s been able to permit until now may no longer be feasible. I’ve had almost two decades to consider that possibility and I suspect he would have rather explained them to you himself. Unfortunately, the situation doesn’t permit.”

Victor frowned. “I don’t follow that.”

“It’ll make sense soon.” Candace looked at her own children. “Strictly speaking I don’t need to inform you of this, but I think it’s important you know. Until I give you permission, you aren’t to mention our conversation today to anyone outside this room. This is serious business and the consequences of a leak would be extremely damaging. Do you understand?”

The girls nodded and Quintus piped up: “Is this about Kai taking Legendkiller with him instead of Yen-lo-Wang?”

“It’s related, after a fashion.” Candace raised one eyebrow. “So, can you keep a secret?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you about the secrets I’m already keeping,” the boy quipped. “It wouldn’t make me seem trustworthy.”

His mother nodded with a hint of amusement. “Very well then. Are you all sitting comfortably?”

Victor smiled at the parental expression. Then he saw Candace’s expression and the smile slipped off his face.

“Yes, this is a story, your highness. It’s also very real. It begins in 2784, when General Kerensky led the SLDF out of the Inner Sphere and out of our known history. It’s generally understood that he foresaw the Succession Wars and wanted to remove his armies before they broke up and joined the warring armies of Successor Lords – such as my ancestor Barbara Liao, or your ancestors Jennifer Steiner and John Davion. The process had already begun – the Crucis Lancers and Deneb Light Cavalry descend from soldiers who offered their services to House Davion, while the Northwind Highlanders are the heirs to an SLDF division that Barbara Liao won to her cause.”

“In 3005, more than two centuries after their departure, descendants of Kerensky’s exodus fleet returned to the Inner Sphere, although no one was sure of their identity for another quarter of a century.”

3005? What had happened in that year? Victor thought back and then straightened on the couch. “Wolf’s Dragoons?”

“The Wolf Dragoons, yes. Not ‘Wolf’s Dragoons’ as some mistakenly refer to them. While it isn’t an uncommon custom for a unit to take their name from their leaders, in this case Jaime and Joshua Wolf, in this case the Dragoons and the Wolf brothers both took their name from the same source, a group known as Clan Wolf. Clan Wolf had sent the Dragoons, equipped out of stockpiles of equipment left over from the SLDF, to gather information on the Inner Sphere.”

“To give some background,” Candace continued, “Kerensky’s armies colonised several worlds a considerable distance from the Inner Sphere – at least a thousand light years away from the edge of the Draconis Combine. We don’t know the exact location, since the Dragoons purged their navigational data, but we currently believe these worlds are core-wards of Rasalhague. Unfortunately, tensions between soldiers from different states combined with the fact that they were soldiers - rather than farmers or factory workers who might have been more suited to establishing new colonies - flared into civil unrest.”

“Kerensky wasn’t a young man, of course, and he died without resolving the problem. Even worse, his deputy had been killed in action shortly before and this left the question of who would succeed Kerensky undetermined. Ironically, having left the Inner Sphere to avoid the Succession Wars, the SLDF now faced a succession crisis of their own.”

“One of the contenders was Kerensky’s son Nicholas. While we don’t have detailed information, he appears to have been both charismatic and ruthlessly efficient. As a relatively junior officer he wasn’t able to establish his authority immediately. Instead, he gathered his supporters and while the five principal colonies – the Pentagon worlds - fell into civil war, he retreated to outlying colony worlds with smaller populations but resources that remained untapped. It seems he was able to bring them under his control quite easily and rather than returning to the Pentagon, he elected to reshape the society of his domain and build a new culture and military.”

“Part of this vision was to divide his followers into twenty Clans, each of which would be mostly independent and cut across the old national lines. Each would have its own military and its own culture, bound together by a general code of law and guided when necessary by a grand council of the leaders of all the Clans. A new Star League in miniature, you might say. After twenty years of training and preparation, Nicholas Kerensky led his followers back to the Pentagon worlds where decades of conflict had left the other factions exhausted and wearied. He crushed them decisively and spent the rest of his life integrating them into his new society.”

“It’s not clear how much the Clans have changed over the last two centuries. What is clear is that there’s a very stratified caste system, not entirely dissimilar to traditional Capellan society in some ways. The warrior caste are the top and they’re led by councils claiming descent directly from the warriors who initially followed Nicholas Kerensky in the conquest of the Pentagon. Rather than traditional dynasties, however, the Clans warriors are conceived in test tubes with genetic material from previous generations and raised in crèches.”

“Sounds like the Warrior Houses.”

“There are similarities – they’re fanatically loyal and they’re ferociously skilled.” Candace paused. “General Natasha Kerensky is the product of that system, in fact she’s a direct descendant of Nicholas Kerensky. Meanwhile, Jaime and Joshua Wolf were the natural born children of a Clan warrior with one of the civilian castes and entered the warrior caste on merit. Some Clans don’t permit that, but Clan Wolf are allegedly relatively liberal in that regard.”

“Relatively?” asked Victor.

“Relative to other Clans, that is. Their leaders don’t have quite the theoretically absolute power wielded by your parents, instead being elected out of the councils. And in general, the caste system is enforced approximately as brutally as my sister’s regime in the Capellan Confederation. I believe Justin put it best after discussing the various Clans with Natasha years ago: there are no ‘good’ Clans, just some Clans that are worse than others.”

“It seems probable that there have been changes over time, it’s unlikely that the Clans today are exactly as Nicholas Kerensky intended – or even quite the same Clans who sent the Dragoons almost five decades away. Interpretation of their Founder’s writings and his father’s are one of the few scholarly traditions that survive, other than the science behind the arming and the breeding of their armed forces. The most pressing point here is the interpretation that some of the Clans place on some of those writings.”

“It’s impossible not to see a parallel between Aleksandr Kerensky’s Exodus out of the Star League and his son’s withdrawal from the Pentagon worlds. In fact, Clan histories explicitly refer to them as the First Exodus and the Second Exodus. Some of them feel that the parallel should be extended further and argue that just as the Clans eventually returned to the Pentagon worlds and rebuilt them in their own image, so the Clans ought to now be doing the same to the Inner Sphere.”

Victor’s jaw dropped. “That’s… ambitious.”

“It isn’t entirely clear if they have the ability to fulfil that ambition or not. The Clans certainly don’t have the numbers of the old SLDF at their disposal – overall their colonies are relatively small and self-contained. On the other hand, while the Inner Sphere lost access to much of our more advanced military technology over the Succession Wars, the Clans retained the best of the SLDF’s hardware and even improved upon it.”

“But we’ve been improving our technology – look at the ‘Mechs we were using in the simulators. They’re generations ahead of…” Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

Candace nodded. “As you’ve guessed, a lot of our recent advances – not all – were replicating some of the technology that the Wolf Dragoons provided to us. Back in 3005 we were just beginning to slowly recover. The Dragoons had been sent as a compromise between the pro-Invasion faction and their political opponents. Kerlin Ward, the leader of Clan Wolf, was very much opposed to the invasion and felt that the years it would take for the Dragoons to reach the Inner Sphere and gather information would let the issue fade in priorities.”

“What no one particularly foresaw was that the Dragoons, predominantly drawn from natural born warriors and out of contact with the Clans for years on end found that their sympathies lay more with the people of the Inner Sphere – not so much the Great Houses, as the general population. This was crystallised during one of their excursions out of the Inner Sphere when they received new instructions from Kerlin Ward. He advised them that while there was no immediate danger of the Clans invading, the issue wasn’t fading away. And however many times the motion was defeated in the Clans’ Grand Council, it would only take one successful vote for the invasion to be ordered.”

“Kerlin Ward ordered the Dragoons to stop sending reports and instead to do everything they could to prepare us to resist an invasion.” Candace steepled her fingers. “And until recently, that’s the last that was heard from the Clans?”

“Until recently? Then there’s been new contact? Is that why so many regiments are moving towards Tamar?”

“Very good, Prince Victor. A mercenary company carrying out anti-piracy operations in the Greater Valkyrate encountered five ‘Mechs from Clan Jade Falcon. The Clans defeated them fairly easily, but not before the mercenaries transmitted full recordings to their dropship which made its escape and fortunately had the sense to forward it to the local AFFC commanders.”

“Kai.”

Victor looked over at Kuan-Yin and then realised what she had. “The Eleventh Lyran Guards are deployed in that area – Twycross PDZ. If this is an invasion, they’ll be right in their path.”

“That’s correct.” Candace placed her hands flat on the desk. “We’ve always known that if the Clans attacked the Federated Commonwealth their most likely path was either through the Outworlds Alliance and into the Draconis March or through Rasalhague and into the Tamar March. Kai requesting a change of assignment to the Eleventh Lyran Guards instead of the Davion Heavy Guards was unexpected – he couldn’t take Yen-lo-Wang with him since the Lyran Guards regiments aren’t upgraded with such advanced equipment or the logistics to support it yet. But there was, at the time, no reason to expect the Clans would invade.”

“The Eleventh are a very good regiment,” Victor offered in weak support.

“Yes. But whether they’re good enough…”

“So does that mean the Assault Guards will be redeployed?”

Candace shook her head. “I recall what it’s like to be a young firebrand.” She reached up and touched her shoulder. “I also remember the price for that. The contingency plans for redeployments to face the Clans are built around moving rapid response forces initially. The Assault Guards, with all their heavy equipment and being oversized even as a Regimental Combat team, would take up a lot more dropships than other units so you’re a low priority for shipping to Tamar.”

Victor felt his face flush.

“On the other hand, if the Clans do arrive anywhere near the Draconis March as well, the Capellan March will have to be stripped to send reinforcements. And that raises a problem of its own.”

“Aunt Romano,” guessed Cassandra. “She’d see it as a chance to reclaim St Ives.”

Candace nodded. “It seems very likely. Victor’s parents and I discussed this a long time ago. At the time, my thinking was that if I seized power from Romano, it would leave the Confederation exposed to House Marik by removing the admittedly tenuous protection of the Kapteyn Pact. Even if the Captain-General himself didn’t approve, Andurien and Oriente would be eager to use their provincial forces and even combined the full resources of the Confederation and St Ives would be stretched. The likelihood seemed that I’d then have little choice but to accept further support from the Federated Commonwealth.”

“Even if that didn’t kick off a new Succession War, you’d still be destroying Capellan independence,” Victor concluded. “Meanwhile, with St Ives’ independence and the prestige of the worlds father ceded to you, you had the best of both worlds.”

“Essentially, yes,” she admitted frankly. “There was also the factor that none of us were sure how the Clans would react if their other sources of information about the Inner Sphere – deep periphery traders and the like – reported that the Inner Sphere was being reunited without their intervention. That was certainly one of the factors in your father’s decision not to follow up the Fourth Succession War with a similarly overwhelming offensive against the Draconis Combine.”

“Of course, none of us realised quite how barbaric Romano’s rule would be. And to be fair, Thomas Marik is a far stronger Captain-General – and much less prone to military adventurism – than his predecessors. Still, the fact remains that if I liberate the Confederation from my sister, I’d need the direct support of the Federated Commonwealth to ensure our external security while I dismantle my sister’s government.”

The four younger people in the room exchanged looks. “Mother, what exactly did you agree to as a price for the worlds Hanse Davion ceded to the Compact in 3030?”

“In return for concrete support and concessions at the time, I agreed that if the Clans did invade and if the Capellan leadership did pose a threat that could distract the Federated Commonwealth from dealing with the Clans, that I would give my full support to seizing control of the Confederation and to integrating the Compact and the Confederation into the Federated Commonwealth as equal members.”

“It isn’t ideal, but however similar Clan society is to some aspects of Capellan culture, the Federated Commonwealth remains vastly preferable.” Candace looked at Victor whose face was paling. “And yes, Prince Victor, while it isn’t an absolute requirement, our agreement does include the possibility of transferring the Liao claim upon the First Lord’s throne to House Steiner-Davion by way of marriage.”

“Mother!”

“Did you think I’d been joking, all of these years, Cassandra?”


Eleventh Lyran Guards Headquarters, Maxie’s Planet
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
3 January 3050

“Did you know about this?” asked Dave Jewell quietly as the briefing officer began to go into a more detailed explanation of the Clan menace.

Kai shook his head. The general policy of the Eleventh Lyran Guards was to assign a company’s most senior NCO to the same lance as the most junior Leutenant – at least until he’d found his feet. Kai felt fortunate in finding that Dave Jewell was not only a fine MechWarrior and more than diplomatic in guiding Kai through the sometimes labyrinthine regimental traditions… he’d also found a friend.

It might also be that Dave was lonely after his family’s departure but whatever the cause, Kai felt relieved that his new lance were gelling well together. Another tradition of the Guards was to shuffle lances regularly so a new Leutenant never felt that he was moving into empty boots.

“My father doesn’t bring work home with him. If he did, there probably wouldn’t have been any family time at all when I was younger. Plus, he works enough hours when work takes him away that working more would probably kill him.”

“Sounds like a good policy.” Dave glanced up at the screen. “Do you think those Elementals really are that large? They look like they wrestle BattleMechs for a living.”

“I don’t think it’d be in the briefing if it wasn’t as accurate as possible.” Squinting at the numbers, Kai shook his head. “If I was in a Wasp or similar, I’m not entirely sure I’d bet on the ‘Mech either.”

“Eh, I bet we can take them.” MechWarrior Jack Delancie folded his arms confidently. “They’ve just been playing duelling games out there in the Periphery, they don’t know what war’s really like.”

The other MechWarrior in their lance shook her head slowly. Helen O’Connell-O’Bannon was the oldest of the four by a good many years and she’d earned the nickname ‘Double-O’ not only for her double-barrelled surname but also with a string of disciplinary reports involving her, alcohol and enlisted personnel from anywhere but the Isle of Skye. “The snakes are pretty keen on turning everything into one-on-one duels when they can get away with it, and they know war pretty damn well. Besides, how much do you know if it? You didn’t graduate until ‘45, Jack.”

“Settle down,” Kai warned them quietly, realising they weren’t the only MechWarriors discussing the situation while the briefing was still on, but also aware that as the regiment’s most junior lance commander he was the most likely one to be called on it. “Unless they jump in system tomorrow, we’ll have plenty of time to talk after we’ve heard the whole briefing.”

Jack and Helen subsided while Dave shot Kai a quick thumbs up before he also leant back in his seat. Kai took a moment to consider Helen before he turned his head forward again. According to her record, she’d been part of the raid on Dromini VI, one of the last military actions of the Fourth Succession War. There had been raids since but no battles where regiments faced off with their full force – not until now.

Am I ready for this? Is anyone in the regiment, except our handful of veterans ready? We’re rated as an elite unit but that hasn’t been put to the test yet.

Sunk in thoughts of this nature, Kai barely noticed that the official presentation had concluded. With the recordings out of the way, General Bryan took the podium.

“That’s our new enemy, boys and girls. They sound pretty tough and I’m sure they think they’re pretty tough too. But we’ve got a long history of puncturing that sort of confidence. The Eleventh have done that to the DCMS, to the FWLM, hell I think we even bloodied the AFFS once or twice back before my time. These Clans have come an awful long way to get the same lesson so we’ll be ready to give them a warm welcome.”

“You heard what the Archon said about not worrying about holding onto ground. She’s absolutely, one hundred percent nailed it. There isn’t going to be any holding ground going on – Marshal Steiner posted us here because she knows we’re the best. When the Clans come – if they don’t have a rush of brains and turn themselves around – we’re going to hit them hard, hit them fast and keep hitting them until they’re crying for their mommies – or their test tubes, whatever.”

Kai blinked. That wasn’t exactly his take on the orders – he’d gathered that the Archon envisaged more of a fighting retreat to a prepared defensive line well behind Maxie’s Planet. He shook his head. What was he thinking? The general had years of experience on him, who was he to second-guess her? Probably she was just firing up the troops, or she had more detailed instructions to work from.

“We’ve had a couple of months to make good any equipment deficiencies,” Sharon Bryan continued at the podium. “Now we’re going to shake things out – heavy sweeps through the hills around Frankfurt to make sure everyone’s familiar with the ground. If we have any deficiencies, we’re going to find them and fix them now.”

“And from now on, I want all ‘Mechs fully loaded with live ammo. No training rounds. We’re going to be at 100% readiness for anything and anyone. No weak links, people. I’m counting on every last one of you to uphold the honour of the Eleventh Lyran Guards.”

Kai felt the weight of doom settle on his shoulders. Maybe you should quit now, a traitorous voice whispered inside his head. Head back to St Ives where you can’t let anyone down on the battlefield.


ComStar Compound, Rasalhague
Free Rasalhague Republic
9 January 3050

Real-time HPG communication was expensive, even to ComStar. The Primus’ signal was being routed through a chain of stations along the Lyran side of the border and the Precentor-Martial’s replies were sent back through a similar chain on the Draconian side. Literally tens of thousands of messages were being delayed in favour of this conversation, not to mention the impact on maintenance schedules and the equipment wear of sustained signals rather than short bursts of compressed data.

Nonetheless, Myndo Waterly considered the effort worthwhile and was she not the ultimate arbiter of that?

“Hanse Davion has issued pre-prepared briefings to regiments all through the Federated Commonwealth,” she informed Focht without any preliminary courtesies. “He’s specifically identified their enemy as ‘the descendants of Kerensky’s SLDF’ and claims to anticipate an invasion of the Inner Sphere within the next twelve months.”

To her satisfaction, Focht’s brow furrowed and he picked out the key word immediately. “Pre-prepared? Then this can hardly come as a surprise to him. There must have been prior contact of some kind, maybe years ago.”

She nodded sharply. “I’ve analysts investigating previous pirate activity to check for anything that could match the ‘Clans’, as he’s identified them. Unfortunately we only have a verbal testimony of one of our sources at this time. A transcript should be with you shortly, you may find it useful.”

“Thank you, Primus. Do you have any changes to my instructions at this time?”

“The information suggests that these Clans consider warriors to be of primary significance in their society, which suggests your role as our Order’s emissary to them is fortunately apt. If they are indeed the heirs to General Kerensky, then it may be that our shared heritage in the Star League could open opportunities to move beyond merely neutrality. Naturally, I don’t wish to take the Fox’s word at face value.”

Focht nodded. “Nor would I suggest it. No doubt even if the information is largely accurate, it will have been shaded to a form which favours his goals.”

“Precisely so, Precentor Martial. Indeed, it may be some action by the Federated Commonwealth which has drawn them to return at this time. Your primary goal remains to establish our neutrality and second only to that, gather information about them so that we may draw up more effective policies to manage them. In the meanwhile, I’m sending instructions to all our garrisons, reminding them to be cooperative and non-confrontational should the government of the worlds they’re operating from… change hands.”

“That seems entirely prudent, Primus. In the event that these Clans object to the defensive forces at our compounds, is it your preference that I should order their withdrawal or would this be considered necessary to our neutrality?”

Waterly frowned at this. “A good point. If absolutely necessary, you may negotiate a withdrawal. Our operative suggests that there are some customs peculiar to the Clans that would allow for such an actions. Since Davion mentions multiple Clans rather than one single entity and suggests that it’s unlikely that more than half of the Clans will be participating in the invasion, you may find some Clans more cooperative than others.”

“Indeed.” Focht nodded. “I regret to advise you that two further Explorer Corps vessels have failed to report in. While it isn’t unusual for ships to be occasionally overdue with the vagaries of recharge times in unmapped systems, it does suggest that they may have run into elements of the Clans already. If so, I’ll see if they can be recovered.”

“So long as it doesn’t jeopardize your primary mission, of course.”

“Naturally. After all, they may have information applicable to my secondary objective.”

“Quite.” Waterly tugged on her pale hair. “It’s possible Davion will also share the information he has with Haakon Magnusson or even Thomas Marik. In the former case, the Elected Prince may make an approach to you. Under the circumstances it might be best for you to be unavailable.”

“With your permission, I can arrange to take a small escort to inspect our security on worlds along the Commonwealth border. If I’m on the move…”

“That will do nicely.” She relaxed slightly.

“If I may,” the Precentor Martial offered slowly. “It is possible that Hanse Davion will see merit in giving Theodore Kurita advance warning of the Clans.”

“Why in the world would he do that?”

“If it were merely Takashi Kurita, I wouldn’t expect it. However, if these Clans are indeed coming from somewhere beyond Rasalhague, it’s entirely possible he would want the DCMS to put up the best possible fight, grinding themselves down along with any Clans who might otherwise reach the Draconis March.”

“Do you really think that the Clans could advance that far?”

“I don’t have enough information to judge that, Primus. And in any event, the key question is -”

“Whether Davion feels that they may reach that point. Well-reasoned. I will discuss this with Sharilar Mori. It may be wise to inform Kurita of those ourselves – the father that is, not the son. Theodore Kurita has re-negotiated deals before to our detriment. Takashi is at least predictable.”

Anastasius Focht touched the scars that stretched up beneath his eye-patch. “I fear that the Coordinator is unlikely to give much credence to such a report.”

“Quite. But he will at least seek to verify it and what the ISF discover may very well be worth our time to acquire.”

“You are, as ever, several steps ahead of me, Primus.” He glanced aside. “If I pack immediately, I can be on a shuttle off Rasalhague within the hour.”

“Then I will not keep you. Blake’s blessing upon you, Precentor-Martial Focht.”

The holo projector shut off and Waterly turned back to her desk and the next task that awaited her, selecting a suitable replacement for Focht should he fail to return from this mission.

Boy, those last two installments took a while to read. Keep it coming, drak.

I wondered what Santa was going to bring for Christmas, know I Know.

ComStar Internal Document
Personal Communication – Precentor Martial A. Focht to Primus M. Waterly
Classified – Eyes Only – Primus

Blake’s Blessing upon you Primus.

I offer my sincerest apologies that I have had only limited opportunity to communicate with Our Blessed Order since making contact with elements of Clan Wolf over Verthandi towards the end of March this year. As may have been anticipated, the warriors of Clan Wolf were unprepared for diplomatic overtures and it was sometime before reports of my presence reached their leader, Khan Ulric Kerensky, who has been my host for much of the last two months. You may be gratified to learn that our Order’s status as custodian of Terra and of the Star League facilities upon the home world carries considerable weight and even before the Khan’s intervention, my status as your representative led to my being treated with a respect not previously shown to our order.

I have confirmed that both the missing Explorer Corps jumpships have indeed been taken into custody by the Clans. As the ships themselves have been commandeered to support the logistics of their invasion I haven’t been able to arrange their release, but the crews have been liberated and I am assured that by the time you receive this message, they will be safe and sound at the HPG station on Alleghe. I am investigating the possibility that a third Explorer Corps vessel may be in the hands of one of the other Clans – as yet I have only rumours and I regret that not being familiar with past losses, I am unsure if this is the case. If so, it may shed light upon the location of the Clans’ home worlds.

I have been able to verify that most of the data obtained from the AFFC about the Clans is largely accurate and discrepancies appear to be more a matter of gaps or out of date information rather than outright inaccuracies. There were indeed originally twenty clans, a number now reduced to seventeen. For reasons involving their warrior code, only four of the Clans are currently participating in the invasion although a fifth Clan currently has substantial forces en route to act as a strategic reserve. The fact that this force isn’t expected for several months suggests that resistance by the Inner Sphere has been heavier than expected.

The four Clans currently in the Inner Sphere are Clan Ghost Bear, Clan Jade Falcon, Clan Smoke Jaguar and the aforementioned Clan Wolf. They are indeed the descendants of the SLDF and the history of the Star League and the SLDF is one that they hold in almost superstitious awe. Although the Clans accept the authority of an overall warlord, the ilKhan (currently a post held by one Leo Showers, of Clan Smoke Jaguar), they are to all purposes self-governing and intensely competitive between themselves. Regrettably, I have learned that Clan Smoke Jaguar are relatively dismissive of all Inner Sphere institutions and I have not been able to secure an audience with the ilKhan to pursue my primary mission objective.

I have therefore taken the course of negotiating with each Clan individually, starting with Clan Wolf. As my progress is closely tied to the specific customs and policies of each Clan, I will detail our position with regard to each Clan along with my general impression of the Clan.

Clan Wolf have been largely positively inclined towards my overtures. While the Clan includes a significant militant or ‘Crusader’ faction, there is also a strong counterweight grouping known as Wardens who believe their proper role is to act as protectors to the Inner Sphere. It has become quite apparent that the Clans have their own HPG network, however they haven’t yet extended this to their holdings in the Inner Sphere and have been relying on HPGs fitted to their jumpships to coordinate their forces. With one of the more extensive occupation zones so far, Clan Wolf’s moderates and Wardens were swayed by the logic of supplementing this with our HPGs since they are already functional and manned.

Overall, Clan Wolf appear to have the strongest foothold in the Inner Sphere, with their efforts concentrated within the Free Rasalhague Republic (although they aren’t above seizing Federated Commonwealth worlds along the border if opportunities arise). They’ve brought large shipments of supplies and I estimate that at least a quarter of their invasion force is made up of garrison units. Because of this, they were less convinced by my arguments that our neutrality might be misinterpreted and that we would need to retain security. I’ve narrowly secured an agreement to maintain the status quo but behind closed doors I’ve been advised that they would react positively to a drawdown in the presence of BattleMechs and Aerospace Fighters in our garrisons.

The Clan with which I’ve had greatest success has been Clan Ghost Bear, whose new holdings straddle the old Rasalhague-Combine border. As a whole the Clan are considered conservative by their peers but they are on the best terms with my hosts out of the other invading Clans, so I’ve found them relatively accessible. It probably helped that I had had some weeks of adapting to Clan social niceties (they are most averse to the use of verbal contractions, for example) so I was able to make a slightly better first impression.

Unlike Clan Wolf, Clan Ghost Bear appear to have only assigned limited supplies and support units to their invasion forces, which has caused them persistent difficulties (something likely to continue for the foreseeable future). As such, they were relatively eager to explore alternatives and the proposal that ComStar might act as an intermediary for communication between their garrisons and the local governments to ease misunderstandings was quite well received. I feel that this may stretch the boundaries of neutrality and final arrangements are pending your decision on the matter, however with this in place the Ghost Bears are largely content to allow us to continue to operate as we have been.

Clan Smoke Jaguar have had to be approached carefully since their alienation would doubtless lead to a negative reaction by the ilKhan that could impact on relations with the other Clans. As persistent rivals to Clan Wolf, as well as the most distant at this time (carving their new territory out of the Draconis Combine) it’s been difficult to make an approach. I regret to report this is the one Clan who have engaged in battle against the ComGuards since they assaulted and captured several HPGs on their early conquests.

With their leader, Khan Lincoln Osis, largely involved in military affairs, I’ve been interacting with his deputy or ‘saKhan’ Sarah Weaver. I’ve been able to secure a temporary agreement with her that will preserve our stations and their garrisons pending review by their entire Clan Council. Recent events, which I’ll discuss below, may lead to saKhan Weaver’s replacement. It’s possible her successor will be more amenable.

At the far end of the invasion zone from the Smoke Jaguars, the Jade Falcons are also somewhat predisposed to dislike me since they have an especial rivalry with Clan Wolf. However, as strict traditionalists, they’ve been amenable to our Order’s roots in the Star League Ministry of Communications and of regarding technical and commercial matters as somewhat beneath the regard of warriors. Armed with several historical documents referring to the Blessed Blake’s place among Aleksandr Kerensky’s advisors and to the ComGuards origins as SLDF divisions charged with remaining behind to protect Terra, I’ve been able to establish communication with their Khan, Elias Crichell.

For the moment, Khan Crichell has agreed to allow us to continue operations so long as we don’t pass communications outside the Jade Falcon’s occupation zone, even to other Clans. They’ve also agreed provisionally to leave the ComGuards in place to protect our HPGs although he seemed interested in potentially replacing them with Jade Falcon personnel at some unspecified time in the future. I regret to advise we may only have a temporary presence on worlds the Jade Falcons control. Interestingly, the Jade Falcons have taken to using the HPGs not only for military purposes but also commercially. It seems that their caste of merchants are every bit as aggressive, one might even say predatory, as their warriors.

Moving on to more current events, I was aboard the flagship of Clan Wolf (originally the SLS Kharkov, now renamed Dire Wolf, it seems very similar to the CSS Blake’s Vengeance which is of the same class. This suggests that the Clans naval technology may not be as advanced as that of the other combat arms) when we received news of the Turtle Bay bombardment.

Khan Kerensky appeared quite disgusted, in part with the Smoke Jaguar’s failure to realise that they had apprehended such a valuable prisoner in their hands and secondly that they so completely lost control over the city of Edo in the aftermath of Sho-sa Kurita’s rescue from imprisonment. In case news of this matter has not yet reached ROM (I am sure the Combine will make much of it for morale purposes), I will summarise the facts as I am aware of them.

When the Fourteenth Legion of Vega were defeated on Turtle Bay, Hohiro Kurita, the son of the Gunji no Kanrei, was among the DCMS personnel captured. Rather than being segregated as a prisoner of importance, Kurita was confined in a local prison in the city of Edo. Surviving elements of the Legion obtained the assistance of a local Yakuza group and organised a rescue, with many of the other prisoners giving their lives to cover for Kurita’s escape. It’s believed that Kurita reached a hidden dropship and escaped the system aboard a smuggler’s jumpship.

Subsequent to this the yakuza sponsored a widespread insurrection within the city, very probably with the assistance of Legion personnel who remained behind for this purpose. As a result of heavy-handed Smoke Jaguar occupation tactics (even by Draconian standards), local support was forthcoming and Clan Smoke Jaguar were entirely driven from the city of Edo. In response to this, the local commander (a protégé of Sarah Weaver, who I have earlier mentioned) ordered the orbital bombardment of Edo.

I must stress that this is considered an act of exceptional brutality even by the Clans. For the most part their warships have been used as mobile supply bases and command centres rather than as fighting vessels, since no Inner Sphere warships exist to challenge them. The use of warships for bombardment is largely outside of the Clans experience and, perhaps more as a political attack than out of any moral principle, Khan Kerensky has seized upon it as an example of ineptitude and wastefulness. To the Clans these are extremely strong terms to use and it is for this reason that I suspect the Smoke Jaguars will elect to dismiss saKhan Weaver, along with other officers more closely involved.

The invasion of the world of Rasalhague appears to have been all but stage-managed to highlight the differences between Clan Wolf and Clan Smoke Jaguar. To begin with, it seemed in doubt that Khan Kerensky would even oversee the invasion – as the capital of the Free Rasalhague Republic, the world is a considerable prize and Clan Ghost Bears leaders were eager to claim it for themselves. Clan traditions vested the right to seize the world to whoever was willing to attempt it with the least use of force and in bidding for the right, Khan Kerensky immediately dismissed any use of a warship and finally secured the right to invade by proposing to utilise a force I’m advised is only sixty percent of what his advisors recommended.

Despite what appeared to be extreme recklessness, Kerensky’s attack was swift and decisive. Quite a number of survivors from other units already defeated by Clan Wolf and Clan Ghost Bear had been formed into a composite regiment, however far from being hardened by the experience they shattered under initial pressure. In addition, the Second Drakons regiment had been dispersed to reduce the spread of a local tropical disease and Khan Kerensky’s attack arrived too swiftly for them to regroup. With two thirds of the defenders eliminated, Clan Wolf’s forces were able to easily secure all but the capital city of Reyhavik. Khan Kerensky offered generous terms of surrender before ordering the attack, which were declined by Elected Prince Magnusson. Rather than a more conventional assault, the Wolves sent almost all of their battle armour into the city in a night attack with two goals: neutralizing the Kungsarme command centre and their principal aerospace base.

With their military leadership dead or scattered and no air support, the First Drakons were cut apart in detail by the Wolves, although damage to the city was unavoidably significant. Clan Wolf also secured Prince Haakon Magnusson (who is apparently in secure confinement) and his son Ragnar, who apparently faces indoctrination to become Clan Wolf’s figurehead ruler. This isn’t expected to lead to a general collapse of Rasalhague military resistance, but it’s clear that their morale will suffer considerably until or unless a strong leader emerges to replace Magnusson.


Prefecture Command Centre, Albiero
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
29 July 3050

Sho-sa Hohiro Kurita bowed deeply before his father. Theodore Kurita allowed himself a proud smile before returning the bow. “I realise you have been on campaign, my son, but you really must present yourself properly uniformed to your superiors.”

The younger Kurita blinked in confusion. His uniform was immaculate. “My apologies, sir.”

“Here.” Theodore reached out and replaced the rank pins with those of a Tai-sa, giving the old pins to his son. “Now if you’ll help your aide pin these to his own uniform – you see what setting a bad example leads to? – then everything will be in order.”

Hohiro saw the almost hidden grins on the faces of his father’s staff and turned to Tai-i Shin Yodama. “Please permit me, Sho-sa,” he said, removing the other officer’s existing rank pins. “What rank did he put on me?” he asked under his breath, unable to see the rank pinned to his own collar.

“Thank you, Tai-sa, you are too kind.” Yodama’s voice was as perfectly respectful as any courtiers, although his background was among the yakuza of the Combine rather than one of the ancient samurai families. Or at least, that was his immediate ancestry. The Combine was over seven centuries old, after all, and more than a few dispossessed samurai had found places in the even older tradition of the yakuza, a shadowy society that crossed the lines between organised crime, interstellar business and fraternal society. House Kurita had always found them a useful outlet for the otherwise tightly regimented culture they imposed on their realm – but only Theodore Kurita had managed to harness them beyond this.

Before the two-rank promotion could fully sink in, Theodore ushered his son to the table among the other regimental commanders. “We all know how my son has wounded the pride of the Smoke Jaguars,” he reminded them. “And also of the crimes that they have committed against our people. Honour demands that we punish them for their arrogance.”

Narimasa Asano, the tai-sa of the famous First Genyosha regiment nodded in understanding. “Having been humiliated by Tai-sa Kurita already, the Smoke Jaguars will seek to redeem themselves by making extraordinary efforts once they learn he is on planet.”

“Indeed. It seems almost inevitable that they will throw everything they possibly can at the Twenty-Fourth Yurei Regiment, once they have learned that you are in command of them, my son.” Theodore’s face creased into a cruel smile. “You have confirmed the information we received from Hanse Davion: the Clans issue challenges before battle and routinely share the history of their units with the enemy. The Genyosha’s entire history spans less than a quarter of a century and having been disbanded by my father it could even be said that it begins with their reformation in the last few years. Similarly, not one of the three Yurei regiments present has had the opportunity to see battle in their history.”

Yodama’s eyes widened as he looked at a room full of hard-bitten officers, most of them seasoned in the vicious but hidden warfare of the Yakuza families. “The Clans will land, expecting that they are facing four regiments with effectively no combat experience…”

“Quite so, Sho-sa.” The Kanrei gestured to the map table. “So now we must find a suitable battlefield upon Albiero where we can make them pay the price for not only their arrogance but also their unfortunate ignorance.”

Hohiro stalked around the maps. “Their primary advantage in combat is in matters of range and heat dissipation,” he reported. “They caught my previous command by marching through a burning oil refinery that would have shut our ‘Mechs down. Fighting in a firestorm doesn’t particularly appeal to me, but somewhere in the tropics where their cooling systems will be strained would be one possible avenue, particularly somewhere they won’t be able to take advantage of their long-ranged weapons.”

“They also seem to have quite a number of ‘Mechs that are quite fast but relatively few with jump jets,” suggested Yodama. “Obscuring terrain would be good but obstructive would be better.”

“Swampland might be what you’re looking for.” Asano stroked his chin. “But wouldn’t that benefit their armoured infantry? If I understand your report one of them wasn’t stopped until you fired at him with a large laser. I’d rather engage such units at long range if I can.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” agreed Hohiro. “Artillery might be preferable – it wouldn’t need to score a direct hit and even if it doesn’t kill them outright, it would damage their armour and leave them much more vulnerable to secondary weapons.”

“Hmm. Close and accurate artillery. I think we can work with that?” The Genyosha commander shot a questioning look at Theodore Kurita.

The Gunji no Kanrei nodded in agreement. “We have a new technology of our own that the Genyosha have been testing for me. That’s one reason I arranged to transfer the First Genyosha here as part of our trap.”

“What we’ve been using is a set of dedicated transmitters and specialised computers to coordinate targeting data for a lance, or even an entire company. Properly set up, it allows a ‘Mech to use triangulation of a target’s location from multiple angles – which we’ve found can be up to a thirty percent increase in long-range accuracy. We can even engage targets that we can’t see directly due to obscuring cover, so long as other networked units do have a line of sight.”

“Your pardon, Tai-sa.” Shin didn’t take his eyes off the map. “Does that still work if the ‘Mechs providing the spotting data are underwater?”

“Absolutely.”

The newly promoted Sho-sa tapped the map. “If I’m reading this correctly, the river delta here is nine-tenths swamp. Perfect for high speed hover tanks – which the Smoke Jaguars don’t seem to use. Does anyone know what the vegetation is like? Or how deep the water gets?”


Dropship Raptor’s Wing, Deep Space
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
6 August 3050

Kai knew as soon as he entered the dropship’s rec-room that he’d made a mistake.

“It’s over, Philip,” his father’s voice declared.

In the holodisplay, two Rifleman BattleMechs confronted each other across a gorge, each stood on a broad ledge with the walls of the labyrinthine caverns at their backs.

“Is it, Xiang?” The other MechWarrior laughed triumphantly. “Here’s your surprise, Capellan. How do you like these tactics?”

Out of the shadows two more ‘Mechs walked out onto the ledge, a Firestarter and an UrbanMech, blocking in the Rifleman that bore the same ghost and crosshairs Kai had been busy restoring to the chest of the ‘Mech in the recording.

He froze, unable to avoid watching his father caught in an ambush by his opponent.

Philip Capet had expected Justin to give up. But Kai’s father’s response was scornful and defiant. “You’re still no tactician, Capet!” And then he unhesitatingly strode forwards off the edge of the ledge, dropping it into the abyss below, vanishing into the darkness made deeper by the cloud of dust kicked up as the heavy ‘Mech skidded down the slope.

“That coward!” The shrill cry of protest came from one of the audience and broke Kai from his near trance at the door.

“Dave.”

Seated near the front, Dave Jewell jerked upright and then reached out, pausing the recording. “LT?”

Kai cleared his throat. “I’m heading over to the Katana, to soothe Captain Frestadt’s feathers again. It seems our neighbours are making a fuss again about their schedule being disrupted.”

“Do you want some company?” offered Dave.

“I’ll be fine. Mackensen’s in charge until I get back.”

Dave nodded and then looked towards the source of the earlier accusation of cowardice. “Maybe you should take your bondswoman with you. Show her a little more of the Inner Sphere.”

“I’m not sure showing her a jumpship is going to greatly broaden her horizons, Dave.”

“Let me put that another way, sir. Take her with you. Frestadt’s a bit of a limp noodle and I don’t like the look of Sakamoto and his crew. He claims to be a Rasalhague merchant, but he screams Combine to me and they’ve never been afraid to get tough if it bolsters their profit margin. If he cuts up rough, you could do with some back-up.” Dave gave Diana a pointed look. “She’s gotta know that if she lets Sakamoto bag you then she’s got less chance of getting back in a ‘Mech’s cockpit than she does of flying to Terra by flapping her arms, you get what I’m saying.”

“Aff.” Diana rose. “I understand, Feldwebel David. Thank you for showing me this battle recording.”

Kai led the way to the docking port that connected the Raptor’s Wing to the jumpship Katana. It had just been his luck that the first jumpship to arrive over Maxie’s Planet had been a Rasalhague-flagged ship en route back to the border. In theory the AFFC could conscript any jumpship inside its borders, but doing so to foreign-shipping was replete with possibilities for an international incident.

Diana broke the uncomfortable silence. “I saw that your genesire painted the same emblem on the chest of your Rifleman when he piloted it. Feldwebel Dave did not explain its significance.”

Given the choice between embarrassed silence and an uncomfortable story, Kai hesitated. I took her prisoner. She’s my responsibility, I guess.

“The ‘Mech first belonged to Gray Noton. The ghost and crosshairs were his logo from when he used it in the Solaris duelling circuit. In his day he was the Champion and even in retirement he retained a personal alcove in Thor’s Shieldhall… a dining room reserved for only the most prominent MechWarriors,” he clarified.

“When my father… went to Solaris, he became Noton’s protégé. Solaris is an open world, because of the duellists there are powerful interests from all the Great Houses there. Politics, espionage. It used to be said that if you wanted to hire a regiment for honest work you went to Galatea, but if you wanted to hire someone for covert action then Solaris was where to spend your C-bills.”

“Why would your genesire want to go to such a place? He was a great MechWarrior. Surely his Khan, his… Prince, must have valued him highly.”

Kai almost snorted. Diana was a highly trained, viciously effective MechWarrior and no doubt almost as deadly as a hand-to-hand combatant. She was also very naïve. “He did. That’s why he gave him such a dangerous and important assignment. My father’s mission was to ensure that he was hired by House Davion’s enemies so that he could sabotage their strategies from within.”

“Gray Noton was a man for hire, and his most recent employers were from House Liao. In the arenas father had challenged and defeated the most prominent of the Federated Suns MechWarriors, cultivating a personal feud with their leader – you heard him back in the battle recording: Philip Capet. Out of the arena, he shared his knowledge of the Federated Suns so that Noton could become a more useful agent to House Liao.”

“And then Noton was murdered. Philip Capet tried to claim Noton’s alcove in Thor’s Shieldhall, taking down the shield bearing Noton’s heraldry. Father stopped him and challenged him to fight for the right to the alcove. Hanse Davion had promised command of a regiment to whoever could kill my father in the arena so Capet jumped at the chance. And…” He caught himself before he finished the story. That Noton had been murdered, not by Capet’s coterie but by Justin Xiang-Allard, the man who ostensibly avenged him. “My father had won all his duels in a medium-weight ‘Mech but the terms of the challenge were heavy ‘Mechs so he used Noton’s own Rifleman: Legendkiller.”

“But that is dishonourable!” Diana protested. “Why would any warrior act so disgracefully? Your warriors told me that your genesire was a great hero!”

“Ultimately, he did it because Hanse Davion and his own father – my grandfather Quintus was one of the First Prince’s advisors – asked him to. He put everything he had into serving House Davion. He broke friendships, he destroyed his own reputation and because of that, when the Fourth Succession War came, it was a resounding success. Half the Capellan Confederation was conquered in only two years.” Kai shrugged helplessly. “I’ve never really asked him about it in those terms.”

“And are you like your father?”

Kai gripped the side of the hatch. “If I ever find out,” he said, a little thickly, “Maybe I’ll tell you.”

Aboard the Katana, Kai found Frestadt was already in the company of Sakamoto, who’d brought two of his own crew along. Although the merchant was dressed neatly, the suit was cut to allow freedom of movement and the other dropship crewmen were openly carrying sidearms.

“Is there a problem, captain?”

“Sakamoto-san has suggested a change of destination, Leutenant. It seems feasible to me.”

Kai glanced over at the purported merchant. “I appreciate we’re impacting on your schedule, Sakamoto-san, but I’d hoped we were past this argument. One more jump will take us to the Baker 3 system, where we’ll be parting ways. And as I’ve promised, I’ll arrange compensation for you and Captain Frestadt.”

Sakamoto’s eyes glittered. “Please understand that no monetary compensation can replace the loss to my reputation if I deliver my goods too late. What I am suggesting is a mere compromise. Rather than jumping to Baker 3, the Katana can instead reach Vantaa. From there, you can surely obtain military transport to your destination, while it would cut the impact on my schedule in half.”

“Yes, you were heading for Harvest, weren’t you?” Kai frowned. “Loaded with agricultural machinery? I don’t think your buyers are going to be too concerned. In case you’ve missed it, the Free Rasalhague Republic is also being invaded and Harvest has almost certainly fallen by now.”

“Even so, the invaders will want to eat, surely.”

“I’m sure they will. I suppose that that would be your own risk to run, however I’m afraid Vantaa is out of the question. Even if it isn’t under attack already, it will be soon and the garrison units don’t have much chance of stopping the Clans when they arrive.”

“Then what is different about Baker 3?”

“I’m sorry, but if you’re really going to head for somewhere the Clans might get hold of you, I can’t disclose military information to you.”

“I am sorry too, Leutenant.” Sakamoto produced a small laser pistol from his jacket pocket while his dropship crewmen also drew their weapons. “You seem like a decent enough young officer but I really don’t want to delay any further. Now if you wouldn’t mind coming back to my dropship with me, we’ll see how cooperative your second-in-command will be. I’m sure they wouldn’t want anything to happen to the heir of the St Ives Compact.”

“You’re making a mistake, Sakamoto.”

“Perhaps. Unfortunately, I suspect that going to Baker 3 with you would be an even greater one. Ensure that the Leutenant and his pet Clanner are restrained,” he added. “We don’t want them wandering off and getting hurt.”

“Captain Frestadt -”

“I’m not getting involved in a dispute between passengers,” the man said drily. “And before you try to appeal to my patriotism...”

“Actually,” Kai grabbed hold of the man approaching him and, one foot thrust through a rung to brace himself, flung him against a console, twisting the sidearm away from him. “I was about to suggest you duck.” Sakamoto’s crewman crashed into Frestadt’s console, knocking the wind out of him.

At the same time, Diana had somehow twisted herself around the other crewman, the wrist of the hand holding the gun held in both her own hands while she’d wrapped her legs around his shoulders and neck. One sharp twist that made Kai wince and she was free and holding the gun.

Sakamoto fired his laser, the bolt coming within a centimetre of Kai’s ear. “That was foolish of you,” he informed them. “Do drop the weapons or I’ll put the next one between the Leutenant’s eyes.”

Kai sighed. The laser’s emitter was lined up very neatly to do exactly that. “You aren’t really carrying farm tools, are you?”

The merchant’s lips curled. “As expected of Justin Allard’s son. No, I am not. Now, the guns.”

Diana ejected the clip from the gun she held. “I am not throwing you a loaded gun,” she pointed out. “It might go off by accident.”

“Very prudent. Now, Leutenant -”

Diana fired the gun, the bullet catching Sakamoto’s laser pistol and smashing it, as well as the finger on the trigger.

“Kuso!” he exclaimed but now Kai’s weapon was pointed between his eyes.

“That was… a little reckless, Diana.”

“I do not think Feldwebel David would approve of your being taken hostage,” she replied. “Fortunately, this merchant did not consider that a ballistic weapon does not require a clip if a round is already chambered.”

“And if you’d missed the gun?”

She considered for a moment, replacing the clip in the pistol and working the action to chamber another round. “I did not.”

“Right.” Kai frisked Sakamoto briefly. “Why don’t we take a little walk back to our dropship, Sakamoto-san, where you can get that hand treated and we can discuss your actual cargo.” He looked over at Diana. “I think I should be able to find something to cut one of those cords around your wrist, too.”

Diana beamed.


Kyushu River Delta, Albiero
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
19 August 3050

“Konnichi wa!” Hohiro Kurita greeted the incoming Clan dropships in a tone that was almost cheeky. “Hohiro Kurita greets you, Smoke Jaguars. It has been several months since your forces were unable to restrain me upon Turtle Bay. I shall hope for better sport in our next confrontation.”

One of the technicians in the command van turned his head. “Tai-sa, we’re getting a transmission from them.”

“Put it on the speakers, replay from the beginning.”

A harsh voice cut through the van’s atmosphere. “I am Dieter Osis, commander of the Smoke Jaguar’s Beta Galaxy. It will please me greatly for the Mistweavers to make good the shame of Alpha Galaxy’s failure. Where do you hide yourself and with what forces will you seek to withstand our hunt?”

Hohiro nodded. “Shin?”

The yakuza MechWarrior looked up from the other bank of displays. “Their warship remains in high orbit. If records are true, it can’t effectively fire on the surface unless it descends.”

“Hold back the fighters, then.” Hohiro took up the microphone. “I am sure that you know Albiero is a valuable world to us, Galaxy Commander. However, its industries and principal cities are upon the more southerly continent so I have deployed my forces near the mouth of the Kyushu River on the equatorial continent, where we can fight without causing wasteful losses. Alas, most of my aerospace assets have been reassigned so I will offer your forces safcon to the surface.”

“Our bid to defend Albiero is four BattleMech regiments along with supporting armor battalions and some of the infantry. I understand it is your custom to share military rosters before battle so I have a data packet prepared for you. Three of our infantry regiments remain in the southern cities to maintain order and I propose that should you be victorious, they will withdraw without further contest.”

Hohiro paused. “My own question to you, Galaxy Commander, is what you offer me as collateral? I am prepared to offer battle with the most powerful force that any of your Clan have thus far faced in your invasion. Whoever wins, this will be a glorious encounter – but you stand to gain one of the key worlds in this region whereas I have no equivalent prize.”

There was a derisive laugh as Dieter Osis took in the temerity of the challenge. “You expect to triumph? I see from your transmission that three of your regiments have never seen action and that the last were disbanded years ago and only recently returned to your roster.”

“My warriors are young and ambitious, as yours must be. Yet I must answer to older and sager commanders as well, Galaxy Commander. If I have my forces scatter then it could be weeks or months before you can secure Albiero. What is it worth to you that we settle this swiftly in decisive battle?”

“You bargain well – perhaps you know something of us after all. You have my pledge then that should you somehow defeat my forces, Clan Smoke Jaguar will never again seek to take Albiero from the Draconis Combine. The world will stand as eternal monument to your victory, in the unlikely event that you obtain it.”

“A generous offer, Galaxy Commander, but I know that there are several other Clans in your invasion force and we are not so far from the Ghost Bears that they might decide to take advantage if you stumble. I propose something more concrete: if by any chance my Yurei regiments and the Genyosha triumph over your forces then you will surrender your warship. I see that it is a sister ship to the vessel which burned the city of Edo from orbit. My superiors will surely understand that I desire a means to strike back at such a dishonourable vessel.”

Osis grunted. “You ask much. Very well, but I shall add my own condition. Upon your defeat I demand that you must surrender yourself and also the infantry regiments still stationed on your southern continent. I will not have you slip away like a troublesome surat a second time, quineg?”

Hohiro felt Shin’s hand upon his shoulder and saw the Sho-sa shaking his head. “If I survive such a defeat, Galaxy Commander, then I will meet those terms. If I do not, the commanders of the regiments will have my orders to abide by this bargain.”

“Bargained well and done, then.”

Hohiro cut the microphone.

“Respectfully, Tai-sa, are you mad? Your father would not approve of making yourself the stakes in this battle. If the Smoke Jaguars have you, it will devastate the morale of our people.”

“Well the matter is simple. We must simply be victorious.”

Shin’s voice dropped to a hiss. “You cannot simply decree victory and make it so, your highness!”
   
“You are correct. I can, however, order a friend to ensure the Smoke Jaguars do not take me alive. If we are defeated here, Shin, ensure that I can be reported as a martyr.”


Kyushu River Delta, Albiero
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
20 August 3050

The skies above the river were lit by the drives of more than a dozen dropships as the Smoke Jaguars made their descent.

“He’s throwing in everything he has,” reported Shin as he watched them through binoculars. His ‘Mech, along with scores of others, was submerged to the neck and had been powered down. Between the heavy cloud cover and the thick foliage of the jungle the river ran through, it would be practically impossible to detect them without stumbling directly into them.

“How many of them do you see?”

“I’ve counted more than a hundred and fifty of their BattleMechs and they look like they were picked for size – I’d say two-thirds of them are sixty tons or more. And there are at least twice that many of their Elemental battlesuits.”

Hohiro’s new BattleMech was stationed further back, connected for now by a simple fibre-optic cable to Shin’s position. Despite the swampy terrain, there were some areas of the delta that were sound enough for ‘Mechs and heavy equipment to deploy onto – Hohiro had even kindly pinpointed several to the Smoke Jaguars as part of the ‘safcon’ that allowed them to land upon Albiero without interference.

Naturally, this positioned the Smoke Jaguars where the swamps were widest and they’d have most trouble reaching the banks of the river – several kilometres away. Failure to take advantage of every reasonable point that could be won in the bargaining would have been criminally negligent.

Although Hohiro had implied that his aerospace fighters were deployed to other worlds, in fact their ‘other assignment’ was to reserve airfields where they waited, loaded with every anti-shipping missile Theodore Kurita could arrange on short notice. Only a third of the one hundred and forty-two available fighters had the missiles and no more than twenty-five of the missiles were mounted with nuclear warheads but all the senior officers had agreed that if the Smoke Jaguars did bring their warship into play it would have to be destroyed at any cost.

In a similar vein, the value of Albiero lay in its political significance as a Prefectural capital. The industries of the southern continent were negligible after the loss of the advanced mining technologies used under the Star League. The equatorial continent was equipped with many DCMS training facilities however and both their equipment and their personnel had been available to prepare the battlefield for the oncoming battle.

“Wait until the dropships have lifted again,” Hohiro instructed. “We don’t want them to be low enough to serve an observational purpose.”

Shin confirmed the instruction and then looked left at right at his command. Although he was still Hohiro’s aide, he was now doubling as commander of the Twenty-Fourth Yurei’s First Battalion. While the DCMS personnel from the training bases dug fighting pits and laid traps through the swamp, the technicians of the ‘Mech regiments had worked hard to prepare the ‘Mechs. Part of that was applying camouflage suitable to the muddy waters and shadowy trees. Since Shin could see only those ‘Mechs whose locations he was already aware of, he was sure it had been done well. Hopefully the other preparations were similarly effective.

As the last Smoke Jaguar dropships ascended he dropped back through the hatch of his Phoenix Hawk and buckled himself in. His ‘Mechs wouldn’t be the first into action but when the time came, he’d need to be ready.

“I’ve ordered in the hover battalions. Cutting landlines.”

Matching Hohiro’s command, the fibre-optic connection went dead. Shin punched the button that would eject the end attached to his ‘Mech. Behind him, the cable began to snake back through the trees as winches retracted it for future use. He was sure the Smoke Jaguars would approve of preserving the cable for future use, even if they hated the rest of the strategy.

His ‘Mechs had been positioned in relatively narrow channels – the wider ones were reserved for this phase of the battle and now the hover tanks – Saracen, Scimitar and Saladin light tanks with powerful engines and weapons – slashed down them and engaged the enemy.

Soon the Delta was alive with the staccato of autocannon and the roar of missiles. The hover tanks couldn’t defeat the Smoke Jaguars – if nothing else, there were only three battalions of them in total, but each was playing their own role in softening up the invaders for the next phase of the battle.

Saladin tanks with their assault-grade autocannon were penetrating the armour of the ‘Mechs, putting them at risk of flooding vital internal compartments if they got too deep in the river water. The Saladins and Scimitars, for their part, were firing inferno loads with their missile launchers. It almost didn’t matter if they needed to hit – the napalm would burn even in these soggy conditions so either a ‘Mech took a hit and increased the already high temperatures or the missiles missed and created a new heat source to further confuse the environment.

None of the tanks could take many hits and – Shin winced as there was a flare of light from ahead – inferno missiles could be as much of a menace to those carrying them as those targeted by them. However, the armour crews pressed the attack for five long moments before backing off, turrets turned to the rear to fire defiant final shots into the Clanners as they retreated.

Shin studied the sky and before long three coloured flares burst to life above and in front of his position. The code was somewhat limited, but could be deployed easily by light artillery to anywhere in the swamp. In this case it was pinpointing the location of an advancing Smoke Jaguar trinary.

Fifteen Clan ‘Mechs would very probably be more than a match for his battalion under normal conditions. These weren’t normal conditions though and Shin punched the emergency start-up button for his reactor. The Smoke Jaguars might notice but they were about to have other problems on their hands.

There was a whistle of artillery fire arching over his position and this time they weren’t firing flares. Explosions lit up the trees ahead and Shin started his Phoenix Hawk forwards at a slow walk. It wasn’t possible to manage more than this with so much water resistance, but all he really needed was to avoid being a stationary target.

The first Smoke Jaguar ‘Mech to wade through the line of trees and deceptively solid looking networks of tree roots was a Mad Dog. The pilot probably didn’t even notice the oncoming Yurei ‘Mechs as he suddenly found his ‘Mech tumbling into the deeper water where engineers had dredged out a deeper channel. Submerged to his ‘Mech’s shoulders, the MechWarrior couldn’t make effective use of his weapons, but two Panthers from Shin’s leftmost company were in much better position and the water around them bubbled as they both fired the torpedo launchers replacing their PPCs.

In theory the PPCs would have worked underwater. However, their effective range would have been greatly reduced. The torpedo launchers, on the other hand, were effective out to over six hundred metres and caused far less heat build-up.

As more ‘Mechs added their fire, the Mad Dog pilot fought to hold his ‘Mech upright long enough and finally punched out. As the Smoke Jaguar’s ejection seat rocketed into the cloudy sky, his ‘Mech finally collapsed into the water.

“Tag it for recovery,” Shin ordered on a low-frequency band.

A second and third ‘Mech came into view, an Ebon Jaguar and a much larger Kingfisher assault ‘Mech, the latter still with two Elementals clinging to its side. The larger ‘Mech crashed heavily into the water, falling completely beneath the surface. As the Yurei MechWarriors closed in, the Ebon Jaguar braced itself behind the trap and fired everything it had into one of the Panthers. The water soaked up much of the impacts but through skill or good fortune, the gauss rifle in one arm caught the Panther’s cockpit and the ‘Mech joined its opponents on the bottom of the river.

“I have it,” ordered Hohiro’s voice and the command group joined the battle. Hohiro’s modified Hatamoto and the rest of his lance had been refitted with LRM launchers and they fired a salvo up and over the cover of the island they sheltered behind to tear into the soft ground around the feet of the Ebon Jaguar.

With a splash, the heavy ‘Mech crashed forwards on top of the Kingfisher, which was trying to stand. Sensing opportunity, the Twenty-Fourth’s ‘Mechs moved forwards and Shin had to hold himself back, redirecting lances so that they wouldn’t leave some of their frontage uncovered. There were more than enough ‘Mechs to finish these but there would be twelve more to deal with.


Tenth Lyran Guards Headquarters, Baker 3
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
20 August 3050

A brass band hadn’t particularly featured in Kai’s expectations for arriving on Baker 3, but there was one anyway – along with General Kelly Danvers of the Ninth Federated Commonwealth Regimental Combat Team, General Alvin Kimmel of the Tenth Lyran Guards and Major-General James McConnel, representing Combat Command Three of the Fifteenth Deneb Light Cavalry.

“Sorry about all the fuss,” Kimmel said once he’d shaken Kai’s hand. “We’re having to make some sacrifices to prop up civilian morale since it looks like we’re getting our asses kicked right now.”

“I haven’t really been able to keep in touch, sir. How badly have we been hit?”

“We’ll fill you in on the details later.” Danvers took her turn greeting Kai. “Right now, your company is only the fourth command to have any troops successfully make a retreat to our defensive lines.”

“Assuming we stretch a point and call what’s left of Hot Springs PDZ a defensive line and not worlds the Falcons bypassed.” McConnel looked at the band and then the crowd watching. “Give them a wave, Leutenant. Everyone loves a hero. Oh, and try to look interested when the Planetary Governor makes a rousing speech. If you’re good you’ll get an Ober-Leutenant’s rank pin.”

“I’m being promoted, sir?”

Kimmel nodded. “You’ve singlehandedly caused more damage to the Jade Falcons than anyone else so far. Capturing that dropship left the Cluster they sent to Maxie’s World marooned for almost a month. It probably only averages a few days impact on their logistics, but every little helps. If you keep your nose clean and your mouth shut you’ll probably get a medal too.”

“I’m not sure I deserve a medal, sir.”

“That’s alright, son. You’re a Leutenant – sorry, an Ober-Leutenant. No one expects you to make decisions like that. Now I, on the other hand, am a General and in my expert opinion you deserve a promotion and a medal.”

Kai turned and saluted in the direction of the crowd. “Sir, what’s going to happen about Sakamoto and his arms shipment?”

“Under normal circumstances we’d throw him in a deep dark hole and I’d be inclined to do so, but on the other hand, right now the DCMS are a useful buffer between the Clans and the Draconis March, so he’ll probably be let go with a slap on the wrist. We’re not customs inspectors, after all, and it’s not as if what’s he’s shipping is more on par with what Danvers and McConnel’s people are packing.”

“Your time will come, General,” McConnel assured Kimmel cheerfully. “Most of your tanks are upgraded now, aren’t they? And there are shipments of brand new ‘Mechs on their way from Hesperus II.”

“That assumes the Clans give us that long. Right now they’re mopping up on worlds only one jump away.” Kimmel folded his arms behind his back and fixed a confident look on his face, one at odds with his words. “In all likelihood, they’ll hit us within a matter of weeks.”


Kyushu River Delta, Albiero
Pesht District, Draconis Combine
20 August 3050

Hohiro had deployed the three regiments of Yurei in a loose arc that had steadily closed in upon the Smoke Jaguar landing zone, forcing them back onto islands at the bottom of the estuary. These tended to be a little larger and drier – better defensive ground for them and more of a problem to push them back from.

“Ammunition loads are beginning to run short,” Shin warned. While replacing PPCs and lasers with missile launchers had drastically cut the rate at which ‘Mechs overheated, it did leave them unusually dependent on ammunition – and that didn’t count the four ‘Mechs just in Shin’s battalion who had reported losing the use of a limb due to what were probably hastily applied seals breaking. If that ratio held true across the whole force then the Yurei had probably a battalion operating on reduced or no combat effectiveness before even enemy fire was taken into account.

Hohiro stopped his ‘Mech behind cover. “Understood, Shin. Hold in place.” He brought up his radio to full power and sent the same instructions to the rest of the brigade before switching to another frequency. “Tai-sa Asano. I believe it’s time to introduce our guests to the Black Ocean.”

There was a short “Hai.”

The Genyosha had been moving into position for hours. Ideally they would have been deployed before the Smoke Jaguars landed, but it was impossible to predict exactly where they would end up. So instead they’d made a long, slow and careful trek, guided by transmissions from the Yurei command vans well to the rear.

More than seventy BattleMechs reared up out of the water onto sandbars behind the Smoke Jaguars and opened fire with LRMs and PPCs. Dozens of smaller ‘Mechs were even closer, feeding targeting data back to the rest of the regiment while they remained in the shallows.

Surprise was total. Many of the Smoke Jaguar ‘Mechs at the rear were already damaged and almost all of them had their backs turned towards the Genyosha. BattleMech after BattleMech fell while the survivors scattered and moved for cover. Almost a dozen were on the ground before any credible return fire began to last out at the DCMS BattleMechs.

The Smoke Jaguars were finally free to make use of their longer range, but many of them had also expended considerable ammunition already while the Genyosha force included well-armoured designs like Archers, Grand Dragons and Hatamoto-kaze ‘Mechs. Even the handful of new Naginata ‘Mechs that carried most of the C3 Master computers were well armoured and could afford to take a hit or two before their armour was dangerously thinned.

And then, almost as swiftly as they’d appeared, the Genyosha descended back into the water where their heatsinks and the steady flow of river water against their armour would help bleed off the heat generated by their barrage.

Hohiro studied the results relayed from the Genyosha’s sensors. “How many casualties do the analysts believe the Jaguars have taken?”

“Based on reports from all engaged troops, we’ve confirmed more than fifty ‘Mech kills. It’s harder to be sure of Elementals – at least as many have been killed but the number could be higher – we don’t have good data on the damage done by our artillery.”

And for every ‘Mech disabled there was probably another with its armour depleted and ammunition expended. If we press this, we can destroy them. But at what cost? “Our own losses?”

“Seventy-one ‘Mechs have been destroyed or withdrawn as no longer fit for combat. Forty-four more ‘Mechs have taken flooding damage – they can fight but only to a limited extent.”

Their losses are fewer than mine, but proportionately worse. Of course, my own MechWarriors are also tired and there is no use asking who many can truly fight at full effectiveness. Still… if my own casualties are painful, how must theirs feel? War is fought by men, not machines and they have never been bled like this.

“Very well. Command, relay my transmission to the enemy on the same channel used previously.” Hohiro cleared his throat. “Galaxy Commander Dieter Osis. I am Hohiro Kurita. I salute the courage of your warriors.” But not the wit of their commander. “It is my understanding that your culture abhors waste and that for this reason a defeated warrior may retreat, rather than throw away valuable war material when there is no longer a chance of victory.” He paused checking the pronunciation of the term – the Davion data had been extensive. “I offer you hegira.”

There was a crackling on the frequency and then he heard Dieter Osis’ voice. “Truly, you have learned much of our ways, Tai-sa Hohiro. You speak the truth – my warriors have fought bravely. It is my own poor bargaining that leaves the Mistweavers in such an untenable position. I accept your offer.”

Hohiro sighed in relief before opening his microphone. “Very well. You may bring in your dropships to lift you off world. We will send a hover truck with those prisoners we have taken, return any captives you have taken on the same truck.” He drew back his teeth. “I will also send a dropship to rendezvous with our warship. Do ensure there are no difficulties with the handover.”

“As I have pledged, so it will be done.” Osis’ voice lowered slightly. “We will likely never meet again, Hohiro of the Kuritas. But know you have redoubled your value in our eyes. Wherever you go, the Smoke Jaguars will hunt you.”

Triumph flooded through Hohiro. “You are mistaken, Smoke Jaguar. It is I who will hunt your clan.”


Tenth Lyran Guards Headquarters, Baker 3
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
22 August 3050

To Kai’s relief, the formal celebrations of their arrival were set aside after the first day – there was a battle to prepare for, after all. The next day had involved debriefings and MechWarrior Diana had been handed off to Military Intelligence for detailed questioning.

“Am I being punished for something?” groaned Dave Jewell the next morning as they watched a Lyran Guards Griffin approach their barracks. Whoever had built the base had decided to bury slightly more than company-sized ‘Mech hangers (who used fourteen-strong companies?) in well-spaced bunkers and build the living quarters for the MechWarriors and support personnel above them, only slightly offset.

“Perhaps you have a guilty conscience from going out drinking last night.” Certainly the way he was shading his eyes and wincing every time the Griffin’s foot hit concrete suggested a hangover.

“I only ever feel guilty about that if Katherine is waiting for me at home and she should be two hundred light years away so that’s probably not it. Why are we up at the crack of dawn, anyway?”

“Blame the generals.”

“I miss the old LCAF where the Generals were too busy getting sauced in the evening to schedule anything before noon.”

“You really don’t,” Helen assured him. “Early mornings were the only time we could get anything done without them turning up and giving two or three contradictory orders. So who are we waiting for?”

“According to the last call I got, it’s either our new Hauptmann or the military police.”

“Why are you expecting the military police, LT?”

Kai gave Dave a wide-eyed look. “Well, that would depend on what you and Double-O got up to last night.”

“Shit! I don’t think I did anything out of line. Did you punch someone, Double-O?”

She screwed up her nose. “I don’t think so. I don’t remember so much after my seventh beer.”

“Oh great.”

The Griffin came to a halt near, but not blocking, the ramp down into the hanger and the hatch popped open. A neurohelmeted head poked out. “Good morning. Is one of you Ober-Leutenant Allard?”

“That’s me!”

“Great, let me get my ‘Mech squared away and I’ll be right back.” Leaving the hatch open, the MechWarrior walked it down the stepped slope and out of view.

“New company commander?”

“Looks like it. Who’d give the MPs a ‘Mech, anyway?”

“Depends who they’re restraining. Did you see what Diana did to Sakamoto’s thug on the dropship? If they were escorting her around, I’d want a lance!”

After a few minutes the Griffin’s MechWarrior returned, jumpsuit still unzipped at wrists and ankles. “Ober-Leutenant, good to meet you.” He offered his hand to Kai. “Hauptmann Caradoc Trevana.”

“Ober-Leutenant Kai Allard. This is Feldwebel Dave Jewell and MechWarrior Helen O’Connell-O’Bannon.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Trevana fished a document out of the folder he was carrying, checked it and then read from it: “By order of General Alvin Kimmel, on the authority invested in him by the Archon’s commission, yadda yadda, the detachment of the Eleventh Lyran Guards under the command of Ober-Leutenant Kai Allard-Liao is hereby reassigned to the Tenth Lyran Guards Regimental Combat Team. Said detachment henceforth designated as Company J open-bracket, Joker, close bracket and command of Company J is hereby assigned to Hauptmann Caradoc Trevana. Signed... Well, that looks like General Kimmel’s signature to me.” He offered the document to Kai.

“Did he just say ‘yadda yadda’?” asked Dave under his breath.

“It’s a brave new world in the AFFC,” Helen confirmed.

Kai checked the document and confirmed it was all in order, despite Trevana’s casual recitation. “Hauptmann, I surrender command.” He saluted.

Trevana returned the salute, surprisingly crisply. “Ober-Leutenant, I accept command.” He looked up at the sky. “I think we might be in for some rain, let’s take this inside. How are the rest of the company?”

Kai walked alongside him into the building, followed by Dave and Helen. “Stabsfeldwebel Mackensen and his lance are working with the techs on repairs to their ‘Mechs. They seem to think they should be able to fit new arms to his Zeus, which will bring us up to seven operational ‘Mechs, eight counting your Griffin. MechWarrior Edgehill has taken three of the other MechWarriors to collect replacement uniforms and personal kits for everyone – they should be back before lunch, unless the supply department make a fuss.”

“Sounds good. How’s your mess? We can get by without spare uniforms but food is another matter.”

“We’re all set up. Mackensen checked all the stores and arrangements yesterday.”

Trevana nodded. “Okay. I take it your ‘Mech is one of the ones that needs more repairs?”

“Yes sir. Rifleman parts are available but with only so much time, the technicians are prioritising ‘Mechs that’ll be faster to get back in service.”

“Kind of necessary, but I understand it’s hard on those of you who are effectively dispossessed.” Trevana pulled out another piece of paper. “Have the four ‘Mechs that can’t be repaired in time prepped for transport. General Kimmel has authorised four replacements out of a shipment we’ve received all the way from Defiance Industries. The damaged ‘Mechs will be held in the base’s boneyard and repaired as and when the techs have a chance – chances are we’ll have a lot more battlefield repairs to carry out in the future.”

Kai winced at handing over Legendkiller. “Some of those ‘Mechs are family owned, sir.”

“Needs of the service. If all goes well, we’ll straighten things out after the Falcons are dealt with. If things don’t go well then it probably won’t matter much to any of us.” Trevana shrugged. “Just how it is. Look on the bright side, the ‘Mechs are the new Ausf S types – the Tenth are one of the first Lyran Guards units to start receiving them.”

“What’s Ausf S?” Dave asked. “I thought the Ausf R gear like the refits on my Wolverine were state of the art – well, except the Clans’ stuff.”

“Ausf S is next generation technology,” Kai explained. “I haven’t been formally briefed on it, but it’s usually not cost-effective to refit for existing ‘Mechs. It’s only been cleared for a few units until recently – the Marshals didn’t want samples falling into hostile hands until they had a significant quantity.”

Trevana nodded. “It’s supposed to be comparable to the gear the Clans use.”

“We could have done with that on Maxie’s Planet,” muttered Helen.

“We live in an imperfect universe,” Trevana told her. “If it makes you feel better, the Jade Falcons probably don’t have any idea what they’re going to run into here and on the other worlds that have been reinforced nearby. The Deneb Light Cavalry and Federated Commonwealth RCTs are completely upgraded to Ausf S equipment and they’ve been training on simulations built around data from battles like yours. This is where we stop them cold.”

Reyhavik, Rasalhague
Wolf Occupation Zone
15 September 3050

Ulric Kerensky was about to leave his office after another day’s work had run on long into the evening when a chime indicated an incoming transmission. “Can it wait?” he asked the young warrior acting as his aide.

She checked the source of the message and looked up. “It is a request for a real-time HPG contact with our enclave upon Strana Mechty.”

“Who?”

“Cyrilla Ward.”

Ulric slumped back into the chair. “Put her through and then fetch me a beer,” he ordered. “Get yourself something as well. After a day like this fatigue is more likely to affect your judgement than one small drink.”

The holodisplay lit up with the white-haired head of the Wards. “Have I caught you at a bad time, Ulric?”

“None of us are getting any younger, Cyrilla.” She’d served as junior Khan but semi-retired to focus on managing the business of her Bloodhouse rather than contend for the Khanship with younger warriors – like Ulric himself.

She didn’t smile. “I bear bad news. Conal has decided how far he’s willing to take the matter of the Dragoons.”

“Further than you like, I take it?”

“He’s drawing up a petition to the Grand Council. Two petitions, rather, on the grounds of treason against the Clans as a whole.”

Ulric rubbed his beard. “He has to know the Clan Council would never support that. It would be far too easy for our enemies to try to extend actions against Clan Wolf as a whole.”

“I know that and you know that. Whether Conal knows that or is simply too arrogant to consider it I am no longer sure.”

There was a pop as the aide removed the cap from one of the bottles in her hand and she offered it to Ulric before opening her own. He took a long sip and then checked the label appreciatively. “Alright Cyrilla, I am braced for the worst.”

“Conal is calling for the reaving of Natasha Kerensky’s bloodright and the annihilation of all descendants of the Wolf Dragoons.”

The aide choked on her ill-timed sip from her own beer. Ulric glanced her and then grimaced. Ranna was a third generation descendant of Natasha Kerensky herself. If such a measure passed... “And he did not even discuss this with you, Cyrilla?”

The old woman’s eyes flashed. “He did not. If the Grand Council agrees to the Reaving of a Kerensky bloodright then as petitioner, Conal’s own Bloodhouse will face a Trial of Reaving for the next bloodright to fall vacant. If I was closer I would challenge that fool and kill him for the presumption.”

“No one has ever reaved or even retired a bloodright of House Kerensky – either my own house or our brotherhouse descended of Andery Kerensky. I am not sure how the Grand Council would vote - it could be close.” Ulric glanced over at Ranna. “The other measure might have more support – the Jade Falcons and Smoke Jaguars are frothing that we are closer to reaching Terra than they are and the Ghost Bears would see it as a chance to take the lead. They would all be delighted to see us purging our own touman.”

“Either measure is trouble we do not need. Both together would be a political disaster. I cannot see how Conal expects to prosper by making this petition but if they pass it is certain that the Clan Council will remove you as Khan.”

“Another bonus in the eyes of many.” The Khan drained the beer, using the time to think. “Ranna, make me a list of all Wolf warriors with the invasion force who are descended from members of the Wolf Dragoons. Cyrilla, I may need to speak to whoever gave you this information. It is possible Conal is trying to mislead us.”

She shook her head. “If he was going to do so, he would choose a far more subtle agent. Vlad was quite torn by the matter. He would be delighted if only you were to fall, Ulric. But he is a Wolf before he is a Crusader.”

“Conal’s own aide.” Ulric rubbed his chin. “Good. I can work with that. Thank you for your information, Cyrilla.”


Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation
15 September 3050

The throne room of the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation was dark stone and wood, covered with glorious green silks and trimmed in gold. The throne itself was on a many-stepped dais and Candace looked down on the assembled leaders of her realm.

Most were uncertain of where they stood with her, she suspected. On the one hand, she had removed her sister sycophants with all the sharpness of the sword of Liao. On the other, she had struck down the onerous decrees used by Romano to force them into compliance with her iron grip on all affairs of state – with a few exceptions.

Even those had been agreed with both the surviving Prefectorate and the House of Scions. The first decree struck down had been Candace’s dismissal as Prefect of St Ives Commonality and since that appointment was technically at the House’s discretion it legitimised her right to succeed Romano as Chancellor for the law specified that the Chancellor was chosen from among the Prefects. Certainly no Chancellor in centuries had been chosen outside of House Liao, but the form of the law was almost as important – more sometimes – than the reality.

And around the walls of the throne room were armed guards, not the Death Commandos of the past but infantrymen of House Imarra. Candace’s iron fist within the velvet glove.

“Sun-Tzu Liao, come forward.”

There was a stir as Sun-Tzu entered the room. No one had seen either of Romano’s children since Candace took power. Rumours had suggested any number of fates for them.

Now he walked forwards, clearly unrestrained and in good health and dropped to one knee before the dais. “Chancellor.”

“Make your report, Ambassador.”

There was another stir as that title sank in. He ignored it though. “I have with me a proposed treaty that has been approved and agreed with First Prince Hanse Davion of the Federated Suns and Archon Melissa Steiner of the Lyran Commonwealth. If it meets with your approval, they have provided me with written agreement to sign the treaty into the laws of their two realms and of the Federated Commonwealth immediately upon receipt of your consent.”

Candace nodded. “Is this treaty in line with the draft that you most recently communicated to me?”

“It is, your excellency. May I be permitted to summarise the matter for the benefit of the court.”

She gestured for him to continue and Sun-Tzu turned, his posture shifting from supplicant to that of a minister speaking for the throne.

“Firstly, the treaty concludes the Fourth Succession War, recognising the border between the Federated Suns and Capellan Confederation as it currently stands, including previous worlds ceded to the St Ives Compact, with the exceptions of Monhegan, Manapire, Velhas, Verlo and Ziliang, which worlds are further ceded by the Federated Suns to the Capellan Confederation. All other claims, whether territorial or monetary between our two realms are hereby voided.”

“Secondly, the treaty confirms the transfer of the titles of Duchess of Liao and putative First Lord of the Star League, currently held by Chancellor Candace Liao, to her daughter Kuan-Yin Liao and any descendants she may have in the future.”

“Thirdly, the treaty renders the Capellan Confederation a signatory to the Federated Commonwealth alliance, in the specific union of our foreign and military policies to those of the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth and in the right of equal representation upon the general council (or whatsoever name the body detailed shall eventually receive) of the Federated Commonwealth upon its being convened, that to take place no later than the last day of 3055.”

The throne room was dead silent.

“Fourthly, the treaty declares that upon the end of Candace Liao’s term of office as Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation that the Capellan Confederation shall thereafter be incorporated into the Federated Commonwealth as the Confederation March or such alternative name as may be agreed at the time. The post of Minister of the Confederation March shall be subject to appointment by the Confederation Prefectorate and the post of Field Marshal of the Confederation March shall be subject to approval by the Confederation House of Scions. In the interim of appointment of suitable officials, the post of pro-tem Minister and Field Marshal shall be held by the Duke or Duchess of St Ives or their regents.”

Candace nodded. “Ambassador, these terms are in general acceptable to me. Full copies of the treaty shall be provided to all members of the House of Scions and Prefectorate for debate prior to my final decision.”

Sun-Tzu bowed deeply to his aunt and then stepped into the crowd which parted around him, even the boldest courtier unsure of how to react to the bearer of this extraordinary news.

“My people.” The Chancellor rose to her feet. “For too long, we have remained mired in the past. In not only the Fourth Succession War, whose conclusion my sister was unwilling to acknowledge but also in the fruitless pursuit of the empty throne on Terra. More than two centuries ago, Ilsa Liao offered that empty office to a Davion in return for peace and today it costs us no more to surrender that claim for more concrete benefits. My goal, my obligation as the Chancellor of the Confederation, is to see the brightest future for our people. That future is not as a conquest to House Davion or as House Liao. It is as their valued ally and equal within a wealthy and powerful Federated Commonwealth.”

“In detail, I will consider amendments to the proposed treaty that my nephew has brought us. In principle, this is my policy.”

She gestured to the doors. “Kuan-Yin Liao, Victor Steiner come forward.”

There was a shrill cry and a woman near the back of the court collapsed. One of the guards moved forward and checked her, then muttered a report into his helmet’s comms. Ion Rush, the Master of House Imarra, moved out into the aisle between the throne and the doors. “Please continue, Lady Kuan-Yin, Lord Victor. You need not be concerned by minor hysterics.”

The young couple both wore Capellan style clothes – formal robes for Kuan-Yin and a business suit with a mandarin collar for Victor. He’d reluctantly agreed that his AFFC uniform would be too provocative right now.

“Kuan-Yin, you have requested this audience as a daughter of House Liao. What business do you bring before me?”

“Lady Chancellor, I am here to inform you of my intention – when I am of age next year - to take this man as my husband.”

Any potential outcry was silenced as the Imarra soldiers snapped to attention, stamping their feet.

Candace ignored them completely. “My daughter, are you sure that this man is worthy of you?”

“My mother, he is of a high and noble ancestry. He is a warrior and a comrade in arms to my brother. Though he chafes at serving his people here while war threatens them elsewhere, he has never been less than courteous and respectful.”

“And you, Victor Steiner. Do you accede to my daughter’s intentions?”

Victor bowed deeply to the Chancellor. “My lady, your daughter’s wishes in this matter are my own.”

If even a tenth of the people in the room took those words at face value then Candace would be surprised. Still, they were at least respectful of each other – and fond. There were worse starts for a marriage. (She still shuddered at some of the things she’d learned about her sister’s marriage to the late Tsen Sheng).

“Very well, my daughter. You have my permission, upon coming of age, to enter into marriage with Victor Steiner.”

Kuan-Yin bowed her head politely. “With my apologies for the presumption,” she went off-script. “My intended’s name is Victor Steiner-Davion. I will wed him not despite his paternity, but in full acceptance of it.”


Reyhavik, Rasalhague
Wolf Occupation Zone
19 September 3050

“The death of Garth Radick cannot be laid upon the head of Ulric Kerensky.”

If the leader of the Warden faction could have any less likely champion in the Clan Council then it was Conal Ward. Vlad, seated next to the Delta Galaxy Commander as his aide, found it hard to keep his face straight at the two-faced rhetoric from his mentor.

“Our saKhan was slain by Natasha Kerensky – transmissions from the spheroid public distribution confirm this – and from his final transmissions, it is clear that Garth Radick fell prey to an ambush no less diabolical than that which ended the life of the Founder’s brother Andery. Yet Natasha Kerensky left the Clans almost half a century ago. She is of another generation and Ulric has never met her.”

Conal spread his hands. “Natasha Kerensky is a serious matter, but she is not the matter we must address today. The ilKhan has summoned the Grand Council and we must elect a new Khan to represent. This is the priority.”

Anton Fetladral rose to his feet. “It is rare that I agree with Conal Ward. We can – we will - discuss avenging Garth Radick later. Today we must elect a new leader. I nominate Cyrilla Ward for the position of saKhan. She has experience of the role and we would benefit from having a Khan in the Home Worlds where she can organise the mobilisation of additional resources for our operations here.”

Vlad hid a smile as Conal twitched. Many of the more conservative bloodnamed Clan Warriors would be cautious about offering support to someone who stood against his own Bloodhouse leader.

“Ulric Kerensky has led us ably through the Invasion so far as we have swept all before us. We may rely upon him to continue to do so if we only free his hands from administrative matters to do so. This is no time to appoint an inexperienced Khan who will have to grow into the role.”

Marielle Radick, another staunch Crusader, burst to her feet. “Cyrilla Ward is sibkin to Natasha Kerensky! We cannot appoint someone so close to the traitor as our Khan!”

You should not have threatened Ranna, Vlad thought as he saw Conal lean forwards as if to stand only to remain glued to his chair. Marielle is correct about the bonds between sibkin – they are what tie our pack together. I might have to kill Ranna or Evantha or Carew myself if they continue to cling to Ulric’s flank, but I will never allow you to feed them to the other Clans.

“I nominate Star Colonel Marcos Radick as our new saKhan,” Marielle continued. “His command of the 37th Striker Cluster has shown us his skill and decisiveness. As much as we all respect Cyrilla Ward, the greatest trial of the Clans is here in the Inner Sphere. This is no moment to elect a Khan who is unable – even through no personal fault – to lead us in battle.”

“Marcos Radick is not here to speak on his own behalf.” The 37th Strikers were part of Conal’s Delta Galaxy and he had bid them for battle on Radstadt. “Marielle can advocate him strongly, but absence weakens his position,” warned Vlad under his breath.

Conal nodded sharply. “Still, he is a good candidate.” Ever adaptable, he was counting votes already to try to guess if the chances of electing the Star Colonel would be better than pressing his own nomination.

“I must decline nomination.” Cyrilla Ward’s hologram was grim. “It is time to bring forward new talent within our Clan. Instead I commend to the Clan Council Star Colonel John Ward of the 11th Wolf Guards.”

There was a gasp from Conal. John Ward was not only another of his subordinates and a staunch Warden, he had been tubed with genetic material from Conal. His own gene-son, nominated by his Bloodhouse leader… that killed any chance of Conal’s candidacy: he had been passed over publically.

“Shall we nominate Charles Dinour so that all three of Delta Galaxy’s Star Colonels can stand as candidates?” offered Erik Kerensky. Although a gene-sibling to Ulric Kerensky and a close friend, the two men were diametrically opposed in politics and appearance.

“Charles Dinour could be an effective saKhan.” Heads jerked back towards Ulric Kerensky as he entered the conversation. The Khan nodded thoughtfully. “Yes Erik, I think you have made an excellent nomination. He was inexperienced when we entered the Inner Sphere but his Fourth Strikers have performed well and he is on excellent terms with the Goliath Scorpions so electing him would reassure our allies on the Grand Council that we will not forget them while we are fighting in the Inner Sphere.”

Evantha Fetladral rose. “Three candidates is enough, surely. Let us cast our votes.”

“At least she did not put Anton Fetladral forward,” Vlad offered in consolation to Conal.

Conal shot him a betrayed look.

“We will have a five minute recess so that the Council may consider how to cast their votes,” the Loremaster announced.

“Ward and Dinour are both Wardens, they are going to split those votes. Concentrate our votes on Radick and he has a good chance of being elected.”

The older man nodded agreement. “Good thinking.” He started typing instructions into his comm, directing messages to his allies within the Council.

Vlad sat back and watched as the Council members conferred either electronically or with those in neighbouring seats. Activating his own comms, he checked his messages and gave the appearance of contacting his own contacts within the Clan Council.

The minutes ticked away and Vlad watched Conal put his comm away as the Loremaster stood. He adjusted his own comm one last time before closing it down. “We will now -”

Ulric Kerensky stood sharply and walked to the centre of the chamber. “I must interrupt these proceedings,” he said gravely.

“What is he doing?” hissed Conal.

“The name of Marcos Radick is removed from nomination,” the Khan announced. “Perhaps Galaxy Commander Conal Ward would like to inform us all of why he did not find it appropriate to advise us that his subordinate was killed in action on Radstadt, almost thirty hours ago? Clan Wolf can hardly elect a dead man to be Khan.”

“Marcos, dead?”

Ulric directed a frown at the shocked Conal. “We will elect a Khan now, but it is clear that whoever is elected our next concern will to be address the evident incompetence of Delta Galaxy’s commander.”

Slumping back into his chair, Conal didn’t even cast a vote as the election went forward. Only when more than half the votes had been cast could he bring himself to check his comms to try to trace any messages regarding the status of the 37th Strikers.

Vlad could see the moment that he found the messages that had been screened until now. Conal’s head tracked around like a gun turret to point at him. “Do you really want the Clan Council going through your personal mail to prove that you were set up?” the younger man asked, keeping his voice low so that only Conal could hear him. “Think what else they might find.”

The draft petitions to the Grand Council would be like a grenade thrown into the middle of the Council. If the petitions were presented and approved the Wolves would have little choice but to accept the outcome – and perhaps even admire his gall. But caught in the act and he’d be turned upon as a traitor to the Clan.

In the middle of the chamber, the votes were tallied. “Charles Dinour is approved as our new saKhan,” Ulric announced. “Along with his election, I propose that we should also appoint him commander of Delta Galaxy which is clearly in need of strong leadership rather than an incumbent more interested in fighting political battles.”

Vlad rose from his chair and walked around the chamber. There was nothing more to gain by sitting next someone whose star had fallen.

“I move that the appointment of Khan Dinour be by acclaim!” Conal shouted.

Vlad turned in time to see the older man vault over his desk and stalk after him.

“I cannot disclaim responsibility for appointing an incompetent as my aide, but I can prevent him from undermining my successor.” He jabbed a finger towards Vlad. “I challenge you to a Trial of Grievance.”

“You are out of order.”

Vlad turned to Evantha and shook his head before looking back at his former mentor. “I will not take responsibility for your errors, Conal Ward. I accept your challenge. Let the Council set the terms.”

“I will not expend valuable resources on this quarrel.” Ulric looked over towards Marielle Radick. “Nor will it serve to let this matter fester. I propose immediate and unaugmented combat between the two warriors. Do I hear any objections?”

“Neg.” Marielle rose to her feet. “I offer myself as arbiter.”

“As the root of this matter lies with the death of one of your House’s leaders, I am in agreement.”

She entered the floor at the centre of the chamber and gestured for Vlad to move back to one side and Conal the other. “Both of you discard any weapons you may be carrying. Also remove your boots.

Vlad and Conal removed honour daggers from their belts and kicked off their boots. Marielle stood between them and raised her hand. “When I give the signal, the trial will begin. Let this matter be settled so that the Clan may move forward as one pack.”

She lowered her hand and then had to jump back as the two MechWarriors lunged at each other. Vlad ducked his head, almost dodging a kick that grazed the side of his temple.

He shook it off, caught Conal’s arm and twisted, snapping the older man’s forearm.

A leg sweep put Vlad on the floor and Conal came down with the elbow of his broken arm spearing for his betrayer’s throat.

Ah, Conal. You have all the right instincts, but not enough wit to use them.

Vlad twisted to one side and when Conal’s arm hit the floor the man couldn’t help but flinch. The opening let Vlad drive his knee up and into Conal’s groin, then twist and fling the deposed Galaxy Commander to the floor.

Pairing his fists, the younger warrior hammered down on Conal’s face, breaking his nose and bouncing his skull off the marble floor of the Riksdag chamber. Seeing his prey was stunned, Vlad seized him by shoulder and neck.

There was an audible crack as Conal Ward’s neck snapped.


ComStar Internal Document
Personal Communication – Precentor Martial A. Focht to Primus M. Waterly
Classified – Eyes Only – Primus

Blake’s Blessing upon you Primus.

I enclose the following documentation obtained from Clan Wolf regarding AFFC equipment salvaged during the ongoing fighting on Stanzach.

J. Edgar (Ausf S) Light Hover Tank

Mass: 25 tons
Motive Type: Hovercraft
Production Year: 3045

Power Plant: Leenex 145 Fusion Engine
Cruise Speed: 118.8 km/h
Flanking Speed: 183.6 km/h
Armor: Sudeten Special Ferro-Fibrous
Armament:
- 1 Defiance MkII ER Medium Laser
- 2 Hovertec S2M Streak SRM-2s
- 1 Achernar Ordnance TAG
Manufacturer: Olivetti Weaponry
- Primary Factory: Sudeten
Communications System: Alphard Original Two
Targeting and Tracking System: RCA Instatrac Mk. II

Overview

The J.Edgar light hover tank is on record as having been developed in the early twenty-eighth century by Alphard Trading Corporation. The design was not purchased by the SLDF, however it was adopted by the Taurian Concordat who licensed it for production through Pinard Protectorates Ltd. J.Edgar tanks were employed against the SLDF during the Periphery Uprising. The Lyran Commonwealth construct their more advanced model on Sudeten in the Tamar March, production dating back to at least the mid-3040s. {Olivetti Weaponry put a copy of the original J. Edgar into production on Sudeten in 3006, something the Clans were naturally unaware of. Litigation regarding Olivetti’s failure to obtain a license from ATC remains ongoing as of my last information. - Focht}

Capabilities

Equipped with a fusion reactor – something relatively unusual for Inner Sphere combat vehicles – the J. Edgar has a respectable ground speed and over open terrain it has proven able to outrun most OmniMechs and even some helicopters. The endurance provided by the reactor simplifies logistics and renders the design suitable for extended reconnaissance and raiding operations.

Olivetti Weaponry have replaced the original Diverse Optics Type 2 medium laser with an extended range weapon equivalent to a General Systems ER Medium Laser, which is the basis for the mid-weight extended-range lasers used by all of the Clans {In many respects the weapon compares more closely in performance to our own large lasers - Focht}. This is well within the cooling capacity of the original coolant system. Similarly the Harvester SRM launcher has been replaced by Streak technology launchers. Unlike SLDF Streak missile launchers, these use the lightweight materials adopted in the 29th century by Clan weapon designers.

The original J. Edgar hover tank was fitted with six point five tons of conventional armour plating. This has been replaced with a comparable thickness of ferro-fibrous protection, saving almost 17% of the armour tonnage. This has permitted the addition of a target acquisition system in the nose of the tank. It must be stressed that these alterations have no significant effect on the chassis of the tank. As such, it is entirely possible that older J. Edgar tanks in AFFC service can easily be refitted to the same capabilities.

Deployment

This update of the J. Edgar has been observed as in use by Clan Wolf and Clan Jade Falcon with Regimental Combat Teams of the Federated Commonwealth corps and Donegal Guards. They are usually deployed in squadrons of twelve or sixteen, engaging in high speed attack runs where their turrets allow them to effectively engage a target both before and after passing it. Pack tactics similar to those employed by Clan Ice Hellion make these attacks highly dangerous to isolated OmniMechs or to Elementals caught in the open. The target acquisition system, having been located in the turret is usually only a threat when the hover tanks are incoming, however, crews have been known to use less sophisticated means to call in high-explosive warhead artillery on pursuers.

Clan Smoke Jaguar reported that the original version is in use by some elements of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery, as well as more improvisational variations in the weapons payload or engine. It is unknown at this time if the Taurian Concordat still make use of the J. Edgar. {They do, as do the ComGuards. – Focht}.


CSJS Streaking Mist, Kempten System
Ghost Bear Occupation Zone
11 October 3050

Bjorn Jorgenssen and Aletha Kabrinski, the two newly appointed Khans of Clan Ghost Bear, were quietly smug that it was their Clan that was closest to Terra at this point.

Ulric felt it might be less to do with any excellence by the Ghost Bears and more to do with the lack of any major resistance so far and the relatively narrow invasion corridor. The sixth wave of attacks, due to begin next month, would have the Smoke Jaguars and the Ghost Bears each striking at regional capitals of the Draconis Combine. Overall, it seemed likely that resistance would be quite heavy on Pesht and Alshain.

“How are your warriors finding Tamar?” Jorgenssen asked pleasantly.

“I think I can safely say it will be more of a challenge than Rasalhague.” Ulric waved Charles Dinour forwards. “Have you met our new Khan? The invasion appears to taking its toll upon our leaders.”

Jorgenssen offered his hand to Dinour. “It is an honour,” he said, as if the exchange of jibes hadn’t taken place. “I think much of the invasion has not gone as planned. Perhaps the ilKhan will present a new plan for us.”

“Perhaps.”

“Breen and Zalman are in good spirits.” Dinour nodded over to where the two Steel Vipers sat deep in conversation. “Activating a reserve clan would be a step in the right direction, even if it was just to bolster garrisons.”

“I doubt the Vipers would be pleased to be treated as if their forces were secondline forces.” Kabrinski straightened slightly as Natalie Breen looked up for a moment. “I doubt sharing an invasion corridor with them would be comfortable. Fortunately we are unlikely to find out first hand.”

“If the Steel Vipers wish to join us in fighting through the Federated Commonwealth’s defensive line, they will be entirely welcome to do so. I doubt they would find it a comfortable experience though.”

The junior Wolf Khan nodded in agreement with Ulric. “It surprises me that they did not establish defences of this calibre closer to the Periphery.”

Kabrinski gave Jorgenssen a thoughtful look. “Our attack on Courcheval captured a DCMS command post largely intact,” she admitted. “We found a significant quantity of data about the Clans, apparently provided by the Federated Commonwealth.”

“It appears that the Wolf Dragoons were compromised and have entered the service of the Federated Commonwealth.”

The Ghost Bear Khans recoiled and Ulric smirked slightly at their expressions. “It takes a Wolf to fight a Wolf, quineg? I am flattered that Davion has deployed the Dragoons only against our own invasion corridor so far.”

“The Dragoons could lead the Inner Sphere back to the Home Worlds then!”

“It’s unclear how much navigational data they retain.” Dinour shrugged at their looks. “My gene-sire Vlad Dinour helped to train the Dragoons originally. I pay attention to my heritage. If they have our location then they could have led an army there at any time in the last twenty years.”

The door opened to admit the ilKhan and the assembled Khans moved to take their seats, holoprojectors filling the gaps in their ranks.

Leo Showers scanned the room before speaking. “An ancient war leader was quoted once by the Great Father, counselling that the first victim of war is the plan for battle. The recent reports from some of you make it clear that our initial plan for the invasion, while it has led to the fall of scores of worlds and carried us deep into the Inner Sphere, has reached the extent of its usefulness.”

“The Inner Sphere has begun to redeploy their forces to halt us, as demonstrated by the increasingly heavy resistance that some of our forces have encountered. There have also been some unfortunate and shameful displays of overconfidence. I will not spare my own Clan in this. By now you all will have heard of the loss of one of our warships over the planet of Albiero. Khan Osis was absolutely correct to execute Dieter Osis for his poor bargaining and his progeny have been removed from our breeding programme.”

“We have heard of your first attempt on Albiero.” Sevren Leroux spoke firmly. “But not of your second.”

“Albiero is in my Clan’s possession,” Lincoln Osis rumbled. “Hohiro Kurita escaped us once more – he seems to have great talent for fleeing us. My Clan now hold worlds within the central regions of the Draconis Combine and we are gathering our strength to pounce at Pesht. Once that is within our claws, we shall be only a few short jumps from Luthien.”

The ilKhan leant forwards. “Since Lincoln Osis has summarized his Clan’s position, let all the Invading Clans report upon their status and how they intend to continue the Invasion. Khan Crichell, how fly the Jade Falcons?”

“As described in our earlier reports, the Federated Commonwealth have fortified a number of worlds in our path and garrisoned them with multiple regiments. I believe Clan Wolf may have encountered similar circumstances. My saKhan, Timur Malthus, has committed our reserves to taking these worlds. Many glorious victories have been reported by our warriors yet I have yet to hear that one of these five worlds has been secured for our Clan. I can blame only their leadership for this.”

Timur Malthus, present once again only by holo-display, reared up in outrage but before he could speak, Crichell coursed on. “As one of their leaders, it is my responsibility to address these facts. Long ago, in the liberation of the Pentagon Worlds, when the campaigns on Dagda where slowed by heavy losses, the Founder called on Clans from other worlds to join the fighting. I request the same of our current ilKhan. Rather than see the invasion deadlocked, it is time to call on the first of our reserve Clans.”

“The Steel Vipers stand ready,” Natalie Breen asserted immediately. “We require only a staging ground in your corridor.”

“Wait!” Clan Coyote’s senior Khan stood. “There has been no vote on this matter.”

“No vote is required,” asserted Showers. “The invasion plan, including the activation of reserve forces as required has already been approved by the Council. As your leader the decision is mine and mine alone.” He glared at Robin Steele until she collapsed back into her chair. “And as your leader I say aye. Khan Breen, you may bid forces against Clan Jade Falcon for possession of one of the worlds they captured in the fourth wave to use as your staging ground.”

“Let them make their own conquests from the Inner Sphere,” shouted Malthus.

“You may defend the world yourself, Timur.” Crichell turned to his saKhan. “If you triumph, then the Steel Vipers will be granted the right only to stage from the world and you will have redeemed yourself in the eyes of the Clan Council. If you fail, then the world will be theirs and Clan Jade Falcon will find a new saKhan!”

“Seyla!” murmured Breen. “Bargained well and done, Khan Crichell. I shall contact you tomorrow with our choice of world.”

Malthus’ abruptly shut off his holoprojector, vanishing from the Council Chambers.

“Khan Kerensky.” Showers shifted his gaze. “Have you also encountered these fortress worlds?”

“We have and there has indeed been fierce fighting there. The Federated Commonwealth has sent their best to face us. As you yourself declared, ilKhan, this is the time to use a new strategy. Rather than press the attack on these defences, we have delayed our attack on Tamar and will use our reserves to pin down the regiments on these worlds and to permit younger, less experienced warriors a taste of battle against the Inner Sphere.”

“Meanwhile, Khan Dinour and I will bypass these worlds and striker deeper into the Inner Sphere. Either the Federated Commonwealth will withdraw the units to face us or they will be cut off and their logistics will eventually fail them. Either way, the worlds will fall to Clan Wolf.”

Natalie Breen’s lips curled back in what Ulric concluded with some distaste was admiration and perhaps even desire. “A masterful strategy,” she congratulated him.

On the Jade Falcon bench, Crichell’s eyes narrowed in concern.

“That brings us to Clan Ghost Bear, who are our hosts here at the spear point of the Invasion.”

“Thank you, ilKhan.” Jorgenssen stood. “Before I summarize our position, I have a question for Khan Kerensky.”

Ulric nodded. He wouldn’t have fed Bjorn Jorgenssen the information if he didn’t want it to be used in the Council. It would be far more plausible provided by a rival of his than if he presented it himself.

“You said that the Federated Commonwealth sent their best to face you – by that do you mean regular AFFC regiments, or the Wolf Dragoons?”

“There may no longer be a difference. Hanse Davion has sent elements of the Davion Brigade of Guards to fight on Radstadt and Melissa Steiner-Davion has dispatched two regiments of her Royal Guards to defend Tamar, but Khan Garth Radick fell in battle facing the Beta Regiment of the Wolf Dragoons.”

“Then the Wolf Dragoons, created by Kerlin Ward to be our eyes and ears within the Inner Sphere, have betrayed us.”

Charles Dinour laughed out loud. “IlKhan, the Wolf Dragoons were sent to the Inner Sphere more than five decades ago. How many of Khans here had even taken their first Trial of Positions when they departed? Few indeed. How many fewer do you think remain of the Dragoons we once sent here? I have studied records from the Dragoon’s own reports and also the records kept by the Inner Sphere of their exploits. The capture of Rasalhague gave us access to the data held by a national military headquarters.”

“For a quarter of a century the Wolf Dragoons were the most in demand regiments in the Inner Sphere. Their battles were so legendary that by start the Fourth Succession War – more than a generation after their departure from the Clans – the DCMS felt the necessary numbers to face them in battle were not less than double the Dragoon’s strength, and by the final battle not less than quadruple their numbers. Do you imagine such battles were bloodless? By the end of the Battle of Crossing the Wolf Dragoons are reported as having one – and only one – MechWarrior fit for battle in her ‘Mech.”

“The Wolf Dragoons rebuilt after that day, but they are no longer the warriors we knew. Their ranks were filled out by a new generation, one who knew nothing of the Clans or of our ways, one that was raised entirely in the Inner Sphere. Of all the warriors once part of their roster, we have identified only one – Natasha Kerensky – who is still among their Dragoons.”

“It should surprise no one that she has brought her command to face us in battle.” Dinour glared up at the ilKhan. “For almost sixty years no one has been able to defeat her. She is a trueborn heir of Kerensky and she has come before the Clans seeking one glorious final battle to secure her legacy. Where else can she find a suitable challenge?”

“But the security of the Home Worlds…”

“We did not return to the Inner Sphere, Khan Steele, to cower away from the armies of the Inner Sphere,” Leo Showers declared – conveniently ignoring the minor detail that it was the arrival of an Inner Sphere jumpship over the Smoke Jaguar home world of Huntress, and the implicit possibility of future and hostile contact, which had allowed him to unite the Crusader faction behind him.

“Khan Kerensky, if this aged renegade wishes a death in battle then I will leave it to Clan Wolf to accomplish this. But I remind you that Dieter Osis was killed and his progeny eradicated merely for failure. Clan Wolf would be ill-advised to allow the taint of this Natasha’s offspring to survive within your Clan’s breeding programme.”

“We can police our own gene stock, ilKhan. Khan Dinour will be forming a special unit to handle the matter of Natasha Kerensky’s progeny. I trust, Khan Jorgenssen, that you are satisfied with my explanation?”

“Indeed. I assure you, that should Natasha Kerensky be encountered within our invasion corridor, that she will receive the death that she deserves.”

“Moving on to our actual status,” the junior Ghost Bear Khan broke in impatiently, “We have previously operated with limited supplies, as our consumables have been used up far more rapidly than projections suggested. Larger shipments have been organised and are now beginning to arrive. This will allow us to seize Alshain, and then to fight our way into the densely populated region of space between Rubigen and Baldur.”

“You do not expect to need a reserve Clan, I hope?” asked Sarah Weaver sourly.

“Since the remaining reserve Clans have no available forces – something I hope they will be addressing – fortunately not,” Kabrinski confirmed.

“We will be moving our Galaxies forwards,” confirmed Lucien Carns. “Since the last Grand Council meeting, we have prepared ships and supplies to ensure that Clan Nova Cats’ clusters will arrive as soon as possible. If we have the blessings of the Grand Council, I can give the order to begin the shipments before the start of the next Wave.”

“Your efficiency is appreciated and I am sure that Clan Diamond Shark will be equally diligent in bringing their forces forwards.” Jorgenssen looked around the Council Chamber. “I regret that I feel this is not sufficient. By the time that your Clusters arrive, I feel that further reserves will be called for. I have discussed this matter with some of you already.”

Ulric hid a scowl. Widening the invasion further would be far from ideal. “What are you proposing, Khan Jorgenssen?”

“I am requesting terms from those Clans not participating in the invasion, for our Clans to bring our invasion forces up to the levels we proposed in the second round of bidding. This would hold true for all seven of the invading Clans – as Clan Wolf did not bid, you would be free to use forces equal to the largest bid made in the second round.”

Robin Steele found some reserve of spirit left from her earlier confrontation with the ilKhan. “You made your beds with your final bids. What concessions can you offer us in exchange for your Clans’ poor bidding?”

“It has been somewhat implicit that the worlds occupied here in the Inner Sphere would be uncontested by the Clans not participating in the Inner Sphere. However, these are now Clan Worlds. I see no reason that their enclaves and resources should not be open to Trials of Possession for any Clans.” Jorgenssen took his eyes off Steele – a Warden, if a lukewarm one – and instead looked to the Khans of the Ice Hellions, the Star Adders and the Hells Horses. “I propose a measure confirming this to the Grand Council and urge all the Khans of the invading Clans to support it.”

“Stravag!” hissed Dinour from beside Ulric.

Simply loosening the terms of the bids as Jorgenssen suggested would almost double the forces available to the invaders, significantly easing their current garrison shortages and making up for casualties taken so far. But with essentially free license to scavenge at the heels of the invaders, none of the other Clans counted among the Crusader faction would want to be left out – and since any worlds they took wouldn’t need to be garrisoned by the invaders…

The ilKhan looked almost physically ill at the idea of the other Clans clawing like vultures at the worlds taken by Clan Smoke Jaguar. Then his eyes narrowed. “And I suppose there is no reason that invading Clans could not launch Trials of Possession for personnel and equipment brought into the Inner Sphere by the other Clans, quineg?”

“Neg,” confirmed Crichell. “No reason whatsoever. The Founder’s laws are perfectly clear on the matter. I would support this measure.”

“I would not.”

“You may vote as you will, Khan Dinour.” Aletha Kabrinski glared at him. “But as Clan Wolf did not bid for a place in the invasion, you have no say in negotiations between those who did.”

Ulric shook his head. “Khan Kabrinski is quite correct,” he agreed. “However, speaking solely of the proposal being put before the Grand Council, would this also open up the holdings of the Invading Clans in the Home Worlds to trials? That has thus far been blocked in order to prevent us from being distracted but since we can now face challenges here in the Inner Sphere, that logic no longer holds true.”

It wasn’t ideal, but the threat there might swing a few votes against the measure.

“That is a reasonable point,” agreed Jorgenssen firmly. “I believe that it should.”

“Perhaps a short recess is in order,” proposed Elias Crichell. “Fifteen minutes for Clan Ghost Bear to draw up a formal statement and for us all to consider our position on this matter.”

“Agreed.” Leo Showers rose from his chair. “Khan Crichell, I wish to discuss your junior Khan’s absenting himself from the middle of this council.”

“I will be glad to.” Crichell held up his hand. “However, I must also speak briefly with Khan Kerensky on the matter of the Federated Commonwealth’s deployments. So that I may give you my undivided attention, may I join you outside in a moment?”

Showers purpled. “Very well,” he said with threadbare dignity.

Ulric folded his arms. “You are playing with fire there,” he warned as he watched the ilKhan stalk away.

The Jade Falcon smiled thinly. “That is politics,” he observed. Making sure the other Khans were out of hearing he leant forwards slightly. “We both know where the Federated Commonwealth must have received their most advanced technology. However, it could be argued that the mysterious Helm Data Core could have contained data on the very confidential SLDF weapons development programmes that were taken with our ancestors to the Home Worlds. It is just barely plausible that this could explain the matter.”

Dinour frowned. “What are you getting at?”

“No one would believe that you would vote for Jorgenssen’s measure. But a Trial of Refusal could draw troops you sorely need from the frontlines. It would be almost as disruptive as a scandal of Natasha Kerensky actively betraying the Clans to the Inner Sphere.” Crichell’s eyes glittered. “Neither of us need that sort of disruption, Ulric. So let the vote fall where it does. If you win your point, neither I nor any of my allies will offer a Trial of Refusal. But if the vote goes against you…”

“Which you are confident of.”

“One can never quite tell, when playing with fire. But yes. If the majority of the Khans support Jorgenssen then let it pass. The ilKhan will be entirely supportive of suggestions that the Federated Commonwealth has independently reduced our technological lead to a razor’s edge.”

Ulric raised one eyebrow. “He would prefer that to seeking the humiliation of my Clan?”

“Why confuse the issue? The ilKhan is a very busy man and I would not wish to take up more of his time than I must.” Crichell tipped his head slightly, “And I should not keep him waiting.”

“I despise that man,” Dinour observed as he watched the Jade Falcon Khan leave. “Are you going to let him threaten us like that?”

“For now, yes.” Ulric cupped his chin. “In the longer term… Perhaps we should make sure Khan Breen is fully informed of potential targets in the Jade Falcon’s invasion corridor. She may wish to commit her forces to more profitable objectives than digging the Falcons out of their own hole.”


East Jinga, Baker 3
Tamar March, Lyran Commonwealth
4 November 3050

Kommandant Caradoc Trevana reached forward and clinked his water glass off Kai’s. “Here’s to a well-deserved promotion, Hauptmann.”

Kai raised his glass. “Here’s to yours.”

“Which did you think I meant?” Trevana replied impishly and they both threw back the contents of the glasses – which was clear but certainly not water. “What is this made of again?”

“Fermented potatoes, I’m told.”

“It tastes like it.” The older man refilled his glass. “Seriously, Kai. If you ever want to throw over this whole ducal heir business and make the AFFC a lifetime career, you’ll do well. I wouldn’t have recommended you for promotion if I wasn’t sure you had what it took.”

“I don’t really have a choice in the matter.” Kai declined the offered refill. “Once my five years are up – fighting against the Clans permitting, I’ll have to fulfil my family obligations as heir to St Ives. At least I won’t be heir to a sovereignty anymore.”

“You know there are people in the Inner Sphere who never even had that as an opportunity. I rather fancy myself as a Duke one day, or at least a Margrave.”

“All you need to do is get promoted to Marshal, which shouldn’t take you more than ten or twenty years, sir.”

“I like that plan – if nothing else, it’s based on the Federated Commonwealth still being around in a decade or two which is the sort of positive attitude that I look for in a junior officer.”

Helen opened the door. “Before you get too deep in that bottle, there’s a message from HQ about our replacements.”

“We’re getting replacements? That’s unexpectedly good news.”

“Two or three should be arriving any minute on the transport they’re sending to collect Dave.”

Trevana looked at his glass. “I haven’t touched this, unlike our sot of a new Hauptmann here,” he lied, “but that seems unusually vague of HQ. Are we getting two replacement ‘MechWarriors or three?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Helen handed over the documentation. “Two transfers from the Coventry DMM, along with their ‘Mechs, plus one extra who’s…”

“‘Subject to the approval of Hauptmann Kai Allard-Liao’, so I see. Well they got your name right, Kai. That’s a start.”

“Why would they need my approval?” Kai rubbed his head and made a mental note that he needed to cut his hair again. If it got much longer it might start to interfere with his neurohelmet’s signals. “And do we even have a spare ‘Mech if I do give it?”

“We’ve got that salvaged Kit Fox. Right now the techs are mostly using it as a glorified crane, but if we have them patch up the cockpit there’s no reason we can’t re-arm it.” Trevana shrugged. “And that would bring us to twenty-four ‘Mechs in the battalion – nice and orderly. Why don’t you go bid a fond adieu to our favourite Feldwebel and see what you make of this stray ‘MechWarrior command have sent us? Apparently I don’t get any say if we keep her.”

Helen picked up the bottle. “Probably better than drinking this Tikonov rotgut.”

“We have a spare glass now that Kai’s leaving.”

“Oh well, in that case.” She started unscrewing the cap as Kai left the room.

Outside the roar of heavy machinery was no longer muted. The Jade Falcons had pushed the Tenth Lyran Guards back over a thousand kilometres of Baker 3 but under General Kimmel’s sure hand, the Guards had held together and made the Falcons pay a price in men and machinery that Headquarters were sure they couldn’t pay forever. East Jinga, an otherwise fairly unremarkable small town, was just one more temporary base although at least it had reinforced bunkers buried beneath it that could accommodate the civilian population.

Kai waited for a truck to pass and then crossed the road and followed the block down to what was normally a vetinarian surgery and was now being operated by the medical corps as part of the field hospital. With their usual efficiency the AFFC personnel department had sent him new rank pins but not a new ID card so he had to explain to the guards at the gates why he was wearing a Hauptmann’s insignia when according to his identification he was an Ober-Leutenant.

“Hey, congratulations.” Dave was lying on a field cot, a handheld computer game bleeping in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“The promotion.” He fiddled with the device and eventually got it to shut down. “I heard you explaining outside. If you keep it up, you’ll be a Field Marshal one day.”

Kai took a chair and reversed it, leaning over the back to look down at Dave. One thing about commandeered civilian facilities – they had much better institutional furniture. “I’ve put a recommendation in for you too, Dave. I don’t know how much weight they’ll give it, but if they do then along with a new leg, you’ll be getting assignment to a command school.”

“You’re putting me in for a commission? I thought we were friends!”

“Needs of the service, Dave.” Kai offered his hand. “You stuck by me from Maxie’s Planet this far, I figure anyone who does that deserves the extra salary and pensions.”

“…Kathy would kill me if I turned those down, wouldn’t she.” Dave reached up and shook Kai’s hand. “I appreciate it, LT.”

“Same here.”

The door opened. “Okay, Feldwebel – your ride’s here and -” The nurse paused. “Sorry, Hauptmann, are we interrupting?”

“Just here to see Dave to the air strip. Unless that’s a problem.”

“One less wheelchair for me to push, sir.”

“Wheelchair!” Dave protested. “Just get me a pair of crutches, I’ll be fine.”

“Doctor’s orders, Feldwebel. You need to keep weight off what’s left of that leg if you want it to be in shape for a prosthesis.” The nurse unfolded the wheelchair, a heavy military model, and Kai helped lift Dave into it, then wheeled him out to the APC serving as a personnel transport.

“Where did you get that?” he asked as Dave pulled out the little computer game.

“It’s Dave Junior’s – he must have forgotten to pack it.” The Feldwebel looked embarrassed. “I figure… got to get it back to him, right?”

“Yeah. Well, once they pick a command school for you, I guess your family will be joining you there.”

“Eh, it’s just six months, right? Might be easier for them to stay on Coventry. Besides, with a metal leg they won’t want me in a frontline regiment so I might be best putting in an application for the Coventry DMM.”

“We’re getting a couple of MechWarriors from there, actually.”

“No shit?”

“Coming in on the same flight that’s taking you out.”

“Small universe. Well, if they’re tapping those for replacements then they must have room for an experienced Feldwebel.”

“Leutenant.”

“Right, I was forgetting.”

As the APC pulled up next to the dirt strip Kai could hear aircraft engines. It wasn’t until he’d helped Dave out though that he saw what was approaching.

“I don’t believe it.”

“And I thought ground support pilots came with big balls,” agreed Dave. “Are you sure I have to fly out of here with those lunatics?”

Clearly labouring heavily to stay in the air, a variable thrust Planetlifter transport was slowly edging its way downwards, a pair of Commando light BattleMechs suspended beneath it with heavy chains and very little else in the way of support.

“Can I at least leave inside the plane?”

“I don’t know, Dave.” Kai hid a smile. “It’s a very large wheelchair.”

The crunch of the Commandos making contact with the airstrip wasn’t quite loud enough to suggest damage, although Kai would have wanted to check the ankles out before he tried to pilot either of them. With that done, the Planetlifter released the chains and shifted further up the runway to land. To the fascinated gaze of onlookers, the almost the entire ventral fuselage lowered to the ground to reveal a third Commando, this one laid on its back in the cargo hold.

“Isn’t the Planetlifter only rated for seventy tons of cargo?”

“Sounds about right.”

“And those Commandos are twenty-five tons each, right?”

“I think they may have been a little overloaded,” Kai agreed. “Still, you know what they say about safety margins.”

“To never ever exceed them? On pain of being beaten to death with a crutch by an angry Feldwebel?”

“Leutenant.”

“Not unless I get to command school I’m not!”

There weren’t many passengers aboard – probably a good thing since Kai suspected the Planetlifter might have had trouble getting off the ground if any of them had so much as eaten a heavy breakfast. Three were obvious ‘MechWarriors, two were military police and the third…

“Diana?”

“Leutenant Kai.” She managed a serviceable salute. Despite the AFFC coverall she was wearing, he saw she still had the two intact cords around her wrist where he’d put them months ago. (Helen had advised back on the Raptor’s Wing that Diana didn’t remove them even to shower. Kai could have lived without knowing that).

“Hauptmann Allard?” asked the senior of the military police.

“That’s me, what’s this about?”

“We were told to give you this, sir.” He offered an envelope.

Kai tore it open and pulled out the contents.

Hauptmann Allard, it read.

Congratulations on your promotion. I’m sure your family are very proud.

The Ministry of Intelligence have advised me that Bondswoman Diana has been fully debriefed and they have no further questions for her at this time. Normally we’d ship her off world to one of the internment camps, but she does seem to hold you in high regard and we’re not exactly spoiled for spare ‘MechWarriors.

So it’s up to you. If you trust her on your wing, you can cut the bonds cord and swear her into the AFFC. Or have the MPs bring her back and we’ll send her to the internment camp.

Yrs.

Alvin Kimmel, Gen. AFFC.

“What’s it say?” asked Dave.

Kai passed him the letter.

“The general’s giving you a…”

“Don’t. Just… don’t.”

The one-legged Feldwebel shrugged. “Hey, Diana.”

“Feldwebel Dave!” She stared at him in shock. “Your leg! Will they be able to replace it?”

“Yeah, sure. Look, I’ve gotta go get that looked at so keep an eye on Kai for me. You know he needs someone to keep him out of trouble.”

She nodded solemnly. “I will do my best.”

“Dammit, Dave.”

The older man gestured for him to move closer. “You got the same briefings, right. You beat her, so you have her loyalty. Besides, I showed her all your dad’s old fights and…”

“I really wish you hadn’t.”

“Respectfully, LT, you need someone’s problems to think about instead of whatever ones you think you have yourself. Keeping her out of trouble will be a full time job. Just think if it as being a Dad.”

“Keep digging that hole, Dave. I have Kathy’s address, you know.” Kai rubbed his face and then folded up the letter. “Okay. Diana, do you want to get back in a ‘Mech? It means fighting your old Clan.”

“You are offering me a place in your Clan, quiaff?”

Kai swore that if Dave laughed once, he’d kick him out of the wheelchair. “You’ll need to swear allegiance to the Federated Commonwealth, Diana. And we take that seriously. If you take the oath and then try to rejoin the Jade Falcons, I’ll kill you myself.”

She frowned. “I think I understand. I would still be a warrior?”

“A MechWarrior and a soldier.”

“You do not have bloodnames in the Inner Sphere, do you?”

Kai shook his head.

“So if I am a soldier, I could one day become an officer?”

“If you qualify – there’s special training, I’ve nominated Dave for it.”

Diana considered and then looked up at Kai. “My gene-sire is a Jade Falcon officer. A trueborn. I have not met him but I am not sure I could fight him. But otherwise I will fight for you.”

“Close enough.” Kai pulled out the survival knife he was keeping in his boot these days. “Hold still while I take the cord off. And then we’ll swear you in.”

“We’re not taking her back then?” asked the military policeman.

“No, but I’d take it as a personal favour if you’d keep an eye on Feldwebel Jewell here on the flight back. He’s scared of heights and between that and the painkillers…”

“Once I pass that command course, I’ll be allowed to swear at you in public, won’t I?” Dave groaned. He looked up at the military policemen. “Tell me straight up, was the flight in as bad as it looked from here.”

“They told me before we boarded that without the ammunition, the ‘Mechs were just light enough to be inside their weight limits. The pilots swore they must be over though. It was… kind of rocky, but I don’t think there’s going to be as much going the other way.”

Kai and Dave exchanged looks. The older Commando models carried two tons of SRM ammo but both the Ausf R and the Ausf S models had only one ton.

“Yeah, one of you guys push me over to the loadmaster,” Dave grumbled. “If he overloads us this time, I won’t be getting on the plane – not if I have to wheel this thing all the way back to the drop port myself.”