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Interlude
Throughout the Inner Sphere and Major Periphery States
November 20, 3025

INTERSTELLAR NEWS NETWORK ALERT
INN SPECIAL REPORT #3025-1782A
AUTHORIZED FOR IMMEDIATE DISTRIBUTION TO ALL OUTLETS

STORY BY HELEN GRAHM—FILED FROM ROLLIS [CAPELLAN CONFEDERATION]

TAURIANS COMMIT WAR CRIMES AND NUCLEAR ATROCITIES!

(INN) NOVEMBER 19, 3025—ROLLIS

INN HAS RECEIVED CONFIRMATION OF THE FIRST USE OF NUCLEAR WEAPONS AGAINST FORCES OF MCCARRON’S ARMORED CAVALRY DEPLOYED ON MACLEOD’S LAND BY ELEMENTS OF THE TAURIAN GUARD CORPS.  EYEWITNESS ACCOUNTS FROM SURVIVORS INDICATE THAT FOLLOWING IS ACCURATE: 

ANSWERING A COMSTAR REQUEST FOR MAC TO GARRISON LOCAL HPG STATIONS ON MACLEOD’S LAND (IN RESPONSE TO TAURIAN ATTACKS ON COMSTAR FACILITIES), ARCHIE MCCARRON AND THE NIGHTRIDERS REGIMENT ARRIVED ON THE TAURIAN WORLD OF MACLEOD’S LAND, WHILE OTHER MAC REGIMENTS WERE DISPATCHED TO SECURE FACILITIES ON LACONIS, BRISBANE, AND LANDSMARK.

MAC WAS HIRED WITH THE BLESSING OF THE CHANCELLOR OF THE CAPELLAN CONFEDERATION UNDER THE UNDERSTANDING THAT THE NEWLY FORMED COMGUARDS AND MILITIA (ANNOUNCED LAST MONTH) WOULD SOON BE DEPLOYED TO RELIEVE THE MERCENARY FORMATIONS PROVIDING LOCAL SECURITY.

LOCAL CITIZENS OF THE CONCORDAT RESPONDED TO THE ARRIVAL OF MCCARRON AND THE NIGHTRIDERS WITH ILLEGAL ATTACKS UPON HIS FORCES, CONDUCTED BY NON-LAWFUL COMBATENTS USING UNCONVENTIONAL WARFARE.  AFTER THE USE OF CHEMICAL WEAPONS AGAINST HIS FORCE, ARCHIBALD MCCARRON ORDERED ALL FIVE OF HIS REGIMENTS TO WITHDRAW FROM TAURIAN SPACE IN AN EFFORT TO CALM LOCAL SENSIBILITIES. 

INN HAS CONFIRMED THAT WHILE LIFTING TO ORBIT, THREE MAC DROPSHIPS WERE DELIBERATELY TARGETED AND STRUCK BY NUCLEAR ORDNANCE . . . AMONG THE KNOWN DEAD ARE ARCHIBALD MCARRON.  AT LEAST 500 ADDITIONAL MECHWARRIORS, PILOTS, TECHNICIANS, ENGINEERINGS, AND DEPENDENTS HAVE BEEN CONFIRMED AS KIA AS WELL.

INN HAS NOT BEEN ABLE TO CONFIRM AT THIS TIME THAT OTHER REGIMENTS OF MAC CAME UNDER SUSTAINED ATTACK WHILE GARRISONING COMSTAR PROPERTY IN THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT.  HOWEVER, REPORTS FROM MENKE INDICATE THAT THE SUPPORT ELEMENTS OF MAC ARE PREPARING DEPENDENTS ON MENKE FOR THE WORST OF HOMECOMINGS.

REPORTS FROM ALL FIVE GREAT HOUSES OF THE INNER SPHERE INDICATE THAT THE OUTRAGE OVER THE UNPROVOKED AND BARBARIC USE OF WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION IS SWELLING, WITH LOCAL PROTESTORS CLAMORING FOR THEIR GOVERNMENTS TO RESPOND TO THESE ACTS OF BARBARITY. 

COMSTAR HAS ISSUED A CALL FOR ALL GREAT AND MINOR HOUSES TO IMMEDIATELY EMBARGO ALL COMMERCIAL AND PASSENGER TRAFFIC TO AND FROM THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT.

TIMELINE OF EVENTS IN THE TAURIAN CRISIS:

OCTOBER 24, 3025—TAURIAN FORCES ATTACK AND SEIZE A COMSTAR HPG FACILITY ON JANSEN’S HOLD.

OCTOBER 25, 3025—COMSTAR DEMANDS RESTITUTION FOR THE ATTACK AND THE MURDER OF ITS PERSONNEL ON JANSEN’S HOLD.

OCTOBER 27, 3025—PROTECTOR THOMAS CALDERON DECLARES WAR ON COMSTAR AND ORDERS THE TDF TO SEIZE ALL COMSTAR FACILITIES WITHIN THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT.

OCTOBER 28, 3025—COMSTAR DECLARES AN INTERDICTION AGAINST THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT; ANNOUNCES FORMATION OF THE COMGUARD AND MILITIA TO DEFEND FACILITIES AGAINST ANY FUTURE SUCH ATTEMPTS TO SEIZE COMSTAR PROPERTY AND ASSAULT COMSTAR PERSONNEL.

OCTOBER 30, 3025—COMSTAR REACHES AN AGREEMENT WITH MAXIMILLIAN LIAO TO TEMPORARILY HIRE MCCARRON’S ARMORED CAVALRY TO GARRISON SEVERAL HPG FACILITIES WITHIN THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT.

NOVEMBER 10, 3025—MAC LANDS ON MACLEOD’S LAND AND IMMEDIATELY COMES UNDER ATTACK BY TAURIAN IRREGULARS. 

NOVEMBER 16, 3025—TAURIAN FORCES, SUSPECTED OF ACTING ON DIRECT ORDERS FROM TAURUS, USE CHEMICAL WARFARE AGENTS AGAINST NIGHTRIDERS REGIMENT ON MACLEOD’S LAND.

NOVEMBER 17, 3025—NIGHTRIDERS ATTEMPT TO WITHDRAW TO DEFUSE SITUATION; TAURIAN AEROSPACE ASSETS ATTACK THE DEFENSELESS DROPSHIPS AS THEY CLEAR THE ATMOSPHERE WITH NUCLEAR WEAPONS, KILLING AT LEAST 500 INDIVIDUALS INCLUDING ARCHIBALD MCCARRON.

NOVEMBER 20, 3025—COMSTAR CALLS FOR AN IMMEDIATE EMBARGO OF ALL COMMERICAL AND PASSENGER TRAFFIC TO AND FROM THE TAURIAN CONCORDAT.

Celestial Palace
Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation
November 20, 3025

Romano Liao swallowed heavily as the Court of Sian grew silent at her entry.  She had been summoned here—escorted by armed troopers of the Red Lancers, the fanatical guardians of the Chancellor himself.  Colonel Judith Abermarle, the commanding officer of the Lancers, led the procession to the balk lines upon the polished floor and then she knelt, her head bowed low . . . and Romano was herself pushed down upon the flagstones by the guards beside her instead of being allowed to continue forward.

“Child,” Maximillian Liao beamed down at his younger daughter, and then his warm smile faded away into a stern look that felt as cold as arctic ice.  “I must say that I admire your audacity—your . . . courage,” his voice turned into a snarl at that word and Romano shivered, “in attempting to seize the factories of MacLeod’s Land and Pinard and New Vandenberg for the Confederation.”

“Yes,” Max Liao spoke as he lowered his head, “it was an audacious plan that called for taking and holding at least four Taurian worlds with a handful of regiments . . .,” he paused and his eyes narrowed.  “Tell me, daughter . . . where are my regiments now?”

“Re-returning to Menke, Father,” Romano whispered and Max nodded; he leaned back in his throne and he stroked his long beard with one hand—the other clenched the arm of his throne so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

“All of them, daughter?” Max asked in a voice just as quiet . . . but one that echoed throughout the Court.

“I-I was not expe-. . .,” she began, but Max rose from his throne.

“YOU DID NOT THINK!” he spat, and Romano cringed.  “The offensive arm of the Capellan Confederation Armed Forces—shattered!  Marcus Baxter tells me that it will take years to rebuild the Armored Cavalry to their previous strength—right now, AT THIS MOMENT, DAUGHTER!  Right now, of the five Regiments that you threw away, there are barely enough troopers and ‘Mechs returning to Menke to form two.”

Max shook his head as he looked down at the shaking young woman and then he took a deep breath.  “My plans—to place the blame on Hanse Davion for the destruction of their Vickers Core and that ship in orbit; to bring Thomas Calderon into an alliance that would strengthen the Confederation . . . those plans are now useless child, thanks to your wanton appetite for bloodshed and utter lack of any strategic sense!”

The Chancellor sat back down on his throne, composing himself once more.  “Thankfully, there are those who value preserving face for the Liao—those who are willing to help us by telling the Inner Sphere that it was not your stupidity which threw away my Regiments, but instead Taurian atrocities.”

“GUARDS!” he snapped.  “Get this criminal out of my sight—she is to remain in exile at her estates on Quemoy until I send for her.  Contemplate your sins, my daughter—in silence.  And count yourself fortunate that it is not, at this time, Our Will that you be joined with Archibald McCarron in death.”

The guards seized Romano’s arms dragged her away—her last sight before the doors closed behind her was her Father turning to Candace.

“And now, Favored Child, we will address how to correct your idiot sister’s upheaval of my policies.”

The doors finished closing before Romano could do more than sputter in shock as the Lancers continued to drag her through the Palace and then to the space-port.

ComStar helpin to clean up the mess.

Taurian Defense Force Military Reservation (I Corps HQ)
Port Sheridan, New Vallis
Taurian Concordat
November 20, 3025

“I should place you under arrest and ship you home to Thomas,” Corey Calderon said with a sigh.  “You realize you are damn lucky I didn’t just blow your ships out of space when you showed up with a reinforced regiment—without any warning!”

Edward nodded, and Corey scowled at the much younger man.  “Edward, son,” he said with a shake of his head, “Thomas is going to go ballistic over this whole damned mess.  First off, you bring four battalions of FedRats . . .,” and as Edward frowned, Corey just held up a hand, “mercenaries—some of whom are mercenaries in name only, by the way—who just happened to work for Hanse freaking Davion yesterday; you bring them here and land them on New Vallis.  Then, because you obviously have no concern for the status of my blood pressure or the possibility of me suffering a stroke, deign to inform me that Michael Hasek-Davion is due to arrive within the next few hours at the head of the entire Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers RCT—with the intention of conquering this world!”

“Correct, Uncle Corey—except I am rather worried about your blood pressure . . . have you been taking your meds?” Edward interjected with a grin—and Brigadier Tanis Verbet snorted as Corey glared at Edward.

“But oh, oh, you weren’t finished, were you?” Corey continued after transferring his glare to the CO of the First Battalion, Hyades Light Infantry and then to her immediate superior—Colonel Fiona Jamesen—before looking Edward in the eyes once more.  “No, you claim that Hanse freaking Davion has declared Michael Hasek-Davion—his brother-in-law, if I may remind you!—and the entire Sixth Fusiliers as pirates and renegades, who are just conveniently no longer members of the bloody damned AFFS.  Hours before they launch an assault on a Taurian world!  Sounds to me like something the Fox would pull.”

“For what end, Marshal Calderon?” Fiona asked.  “If they return to Federated Suns space and are welcomed home, then we know it was an attempt to trick us—and that would inspire Thomas to devise a means to strike at the Davions just to show he won’t be rolled over.  No, as much as I do not care for the House of Davion and their ambitions,” the older woman mused quietly, “we must look at what is happening here.  Edward has brought four battalions—plus his own escort—to the sound of the guns . . . as any good Taurian should do,” she smiled at the Heir to the Bull as she said this, and Edward nodded his head to her.  She continued.  “He was expecting New Vallis to be defended by just two TDF battalions—Tanis and her First Hyades and Mikhail’s Third Battalion, Concordat Jaegers.  He didn’t know that Thomas and Brenda redeployed the entire TDF to add the Second Hyades, my Regimental HQ, and the Calderon Red Hand.”

Brigadier Rafael Montoya nodded.  “Ambassador Calderon,” he said, stressing the first word heavily, “had already departed before it was decided to reinforce the core worlds of the Concordat.  And I too applaud the action of a Calderon who decides that defending a world of the Concordat comes first and foremost over all other priorities—even to the point of hiring this many mercenaries out of his own pockets.”

Corey—reluctantly—conceded the point with a shrug.  But then the old man sat down in his chair and he sighed again.  “Eddie, if you are wrong—if Hanse Davion welcomes these assholes back into his service—Thomas will have no choice but to officially disown you and send you into Exile.”

“Ardan Sortek,” Edward said, and Corey winced at the name of the commander of the Foxhounds mercenary battalion, “assures me that Prince Davion is quite serious—and he has provided us with a full and complete listing, as of four weeks ago, of the entire Table of Organization and Equipment of the Sixth Fusiliers . . . right down to the exact make and model of each and every vehicle and ‘Mech that they field.”

Rafael pursed his lips—and Tanis grinned broadly.  Edward waited until each of the senior TDF officers present had nodded and then he continued.  “Between your commands, you have basically six Inner Sphere battalions worth of ‘Mechs—plus seven regiments of armor and nearly twenty of infantry.  Heck, Uncle Corey, you have an entire regiment of self-propelled Thumpers, along with a battalion each of Snipers and Long Toms!”  Edward paused. “Between the Foxhounds and Colonel Wylie and his Coyotes, I’ve got just over four battalions of my own—that’s a total of ten versus the three that the Sixth can field.”

“And our conventional arms outnumber his,” Corey finished, “although not by quite the same margins.  You understand that Thomas is liable to hang me from the nearest lamp-post as well, Edward?”

“Edmund Burke said it best, Uncle Corey—‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.’  I refuse to do nothing.  Father may well not approve of my actions—but I take those actions for the Concordat.  The Capellans have already attacked, according to the reports I’ve heard—this is our one chance to stop a second war on another front.  A simultaneous war, Sir; I would suggest that the Marshal ask Brigadier Montoya how that worked out for our people the last time around.”

“I don’t need some wet-behind-the-ears jackass to tell me my history, boy!” Corey snapped.  But then his shoulders dropped and he sighed a third time.  “Alright, son—I’ll back your play.  God knows that every man we can put on the field will lower the numbers of our dead in the end, after all.  BUT,” Corey said firmly, “I’m sending word to Thomas immediately aboard one of the courier ships.  And if the Protector of the Taurian Concordat tells me to open fire on your mercenaries, Edward,” Corey paused and his eyes clouded, but he stared Edward straight in the eyes, “if he orders me to open fire on you—I will do so.  Still want to take that chance?”

“Yes, Sir—but I would like to send a message to Father on that courier ship as well,” Edward said.

Corey nodded, and then he stood up and walked around the desk to take Edward’s hand in his own.  “Whatever Thomas decides, son—it’s been an honor,” and then Corey snorted in a fit of laughter.  “You realize, with all the strings that Thomas has pulled to keep you—his Heir Apparent—out of combat up ‘til now, he’s likely to insist I sit on your ass here in my HQ?  That even if he gives the go-ahead, YOU aren’t likely to be taking the field . . . Subaltern.”

Edward’s mouth opened, and then he closed it.  “I will follow my orders, Marshal Calderon,” he said quietly as he came to attention.

“Somehow, Eddie, I doubt that,” Corey answered.  “Come on, boy—the radio transmitter is a'waiting and Michael Hasek-Davion and his Sassy Syrtis Fools are coming to play in our sand box real soon.  Time for you to call home.”

Very much in the tradition of the Pitcairn Legion

Cháteau des Calderon
Samantha City, Taurus
Taurian Concordat
November 20, 3025

Thomas stalked into his private office in the expansive home—one could term it as a mansion—that had served as the private residence of the Protector for more than seven centuries.  And he slammed the door behind him.

It wasn’t dignified, his slamming of the door—and Thomas knew that.  But it wasn’t his nature to yell at the servants . . . nor at his family for sins not of their own commission.  Unfortunately, merely slamming the door did little to alleviate the anger—and fear—inside Thomas’ heart.  Anger at the thought of the perfidious Davions landing on one of his worlds—a world he had sworn to protect.  Anger at the very idea that still more Davions would be defending that world against their expatriate kin.  And an absolutely furious red rage that it was his own eldest son that had invited those Davion defenders to land on New Vallis.

And fear.  Fear that Edward—his first-born, the man on whom he relied above all others to tell him when he had gone, or was going, too far—would find himself in harm’s way. 

“Damn it to hell, Eddie,” Thomas whispered as he shook his head.  “You’ve put me between the rock and the hard spot now, son.”

“Why are you mad at Eddie, Uncle Thomas?” a frightened voice asked from the far side of the sofa—and Thomas stared at two pairs of green eyes peeking over the back.

“Amelia?  Isabella?  What on earth are you two doing here in my private office?”

The twins—the eldest children of Raoul Calderon, Thomas’ younger brother—stood up and looked down at the floor.  “We are playing hide-and-seek, Uncle Thomas,” Isabella answered quietly.

“No one will look for us in here!” added Amelia.

“Would that be because the two of you are not supposed to be in here?” Thomas asked, and then he sighed.  He sat down on another sofa and he patted the cushions.  “Come here,” he growled, and the twins sighed in unison and crossed the office, sitting down one on his left and one on his right.

“Long ago,” Thomas began, in a quieter and calmer voice, “when your Grand-mama was Protector, I hid in here so that your Dada couldn’t find me,” and he laughed softly.

“Did he find you?  Did you win?” asked Isabella.

“No, Raoul didn’t find me—neither did Teresa or my cousin Brenda or any of the other children, children.  But grand-mama Zarantha found me—and I wasn’t allowed in here either.”

“Did she spank you?” Amelia asked in a low whisper, clearly looking ahead at the possible fate which lay in store for her and her sister.

“No, girls—Mama did not,” and Thomas’ voice grew hushed as his natural eye focused on something far away . . . something many years past.  “She sat me down and she explained to me that this room—this very room!—was her refuge from the pain of the decisions she had to make day-in and day-out as Protector.  Her sanctum, where she could sit and leave behind the worry, the doubts, the fear, . . .,” his voice trailed off.   After a moment, he resumed, in a hushed tone. “I never really knew what she meant until she was gone and this room became mine.”

Thomas looked at the two girls—whose eleventh birthday had just come and gone a month ago—and he smiled.  “It’s okay, girls—you can hide here if you want too . . . I won’t tell a soul.”

Isabella beamed a smile at Thomas and she hugged him tight—but Amelia just frowned.  “Uncle . . . why are you mad at Eddie?”

Thomas grimaced and he put his arm around Amelia and hugged her before he answered.  “Eddie made a decision that I don’t like—a decision that may mean I have to send him away,” and his voice broke.  “That doesn’t mean I don’t love him—it just means that sometimes, I have a duty to do something I don’t like . . . or want . . . to . . . do,” his voice slowed down as he realized just what he had said.

Isabella nodded.  “Miss Carlyle told us at school that we have a . . . re-spon-si-bil-it-y,” she enunciated the word carefully, “to do the right thing even if we don’t want to do it.”

“Yeah,” added Amelia.  “She told us about Great-great-great Aunt Marantha; said it was the hardest thing she ever had to do to give up and let the Star League win—that she didn’t want to give up, but she had to so that her children and everyone’s children would be safe.  And because she did give up, then we are here now.”

“She did, Uncle,” piped up Isabella, not wanting her sister to impress Thomas more than she did.  “She told us that our an-ces-tors were willing to fight and die—but that even if they did, the war was lost.  Aunty Marantha did what she did because she had to—to save us, all of us.  But she didn’t like it so much, she took a pill and went to Heaven.”

Thomas didn’t say a word, but he hugged the two girls—until a knock came on his door.

“Thomas?” a tenor voice asked—the voice of the father of the twins.  “Have you seen Isabella and Amelia by any chance?”

“No, Raoul,” Thomas answered, holding one finger over his lips as the girls giggled in delight.  “Did you misplace them?  Should I call security?”

“No need for that, brother,” he answered with a chuckle through the still closed door.  “Just playing hide-and-seek with them—like when you and I were children.  Sorry to bother you,” he finished.

“Raoul,” Thomas said quickly.

“Yes?”

“It’s never a bother—come back in say . . . thirty minutes?” he asked, looking at the girls and they nodded.  “I need . . . I need to talk.”

There was silence for a moment, and then a dry voice slowly answered.  “Whenever you need me, Tom—I’ll be here.”

Thomas waited until his brother’s footsteps had faded away and then he kissed first Isabella and then Amelia on the forehead.  “There—a thirty minute head-start,” he said.  “And I do believe that Katherine is busy in the kitchen annoying the cooks as they make pastries,” and both the twins squealed.  “I think they will let you have a glass of cold milk as well.”

“Thank you, Uncle Thomas,” the two said in perfect harmony as they stood and hugged the Protector again and made their way to the door.

But then Amelia turned.  “Uncle,” she asked, “why are you crying?”

“Because you two made me remember something I had forgotten, girls.  Now run on—your father is gone to find you . . . so take the back stairs,” Thomas answered with a smile on his face.

The two threw open the door, looked around the corner, and then raced off as one of the guards smiled and closed the door behind them . . . leaving Thomas alone once more.

He stood.  He walked across the carpeted floor to his desk and he picked up the phone and pressed one number.  It rang twice, and then a voice answered.

“Yes, Sire?”

“Send the courier to New Vallis, Henri,” Thomas ordered.  “Tell Corey—and Edward—that I approve in full.  And if one of my stubborn officers or nobles wants to make something of their choice, they will have to deal with ME.”

“At once, Sire.”

“And Henri?”

“Yes?”

“Inform Marshal Vickers that I approve her suggestion for deployment—she may depart as soon as she is ready.  Give her the word, Henri . . . the word GO.”

“Yes, Sire—may I ask what changed your mind?”

“No,” Thomas answered as he hung up the phone and sat back down in an easy chair in front of his fireplace, watching the flames in silence as he waited for his younger brother to return.

Poor renegade davions your gooses are NUKED