OBT Forum

Offices of the First Prince Emeritus

Royal Palace

New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth

September 8th, 3056


I hate what I have to do, but for the good of the realm, I have to do it. Hanse grimaced as he thought over the words that he had rehearsed mentally for weeks before this day. It was a beautiful early fall day on New Avalon, clear blue skies, bit of a clean breeze that wafted through the palace. But all Hanse could think about was the horrible things he was going to have to say to an old friend, one whom had rendered innumerable services to the Commonwealth, and one whom had given his only brother to save his then-fiancé.

This is so much worse than when I found out the truth about Michael. Hanse mused. He felt a slight twinge in his chest, and though he was tempted to reach for his heart pills, he soon shut the thought out of his mind. He knew his body, and he knew he was going to get through this. I am of sterner stuff than this. Victor had offered to do this, so had Melissa, but the fact was, politically, he could not see any other alternative to himself. And he wouldn’t accept it from anyone else but me and Katrina. And Katrina’s gone, so it’s just me.

There was a knock at the door. “Your highness, Duke Kell has arrived for his one pm audience, shall I admit him?”

Hanse bellowed “Yes, and see we aren’t disturbed afterwards.” Hanse shook himself mentally as he said that a bit harsher than he had intended. That young man did not deserve your anger, Hanse, and you know it. The voice in his head that said it sounded suspiciously like his father, Andrew. Dad’s been gone a long time. I suppose he’d approve of what we’ve built here.

The door opened and a man of imposing height entered, his physique told of a man who had still put himself through a brutal exercise regimen, and remained ready for battle, even though he hadn’t been in a ‘Mech in two years. His ducal clothes spoke of a simple finery, as he was not a man of ceremony, but a man who had made his reputation on the battlefield, as a mercenary, fighting the enemies of the Commonwealth for longer than there HAD been a Federated Commonwealth. His ‘Mechwarrior’s spur’s jangled, and his faded blue school rag fluttered in the breeze as he entered the room and his long mane of grey hair framed his face, currently an expressionless mask. But Hanse noted his eyes. His eyes said sorrow, and determination, and intelligence, and experience, all rolled up into something that made Morgan Kell unique, and by the reports of some, unkillable.

Not so sure I believe that last part, but I think we’re both a bit old to be hopping into simulators to prove it, eh? Then again, with what I have to tell him, he might want to do it for real once I am done. God, he is a loyal soldier who we have counted on time and again. I inducted him into the Order of Davion. Victor and Katherine gave him those spurs.. and the right to wear them as thanks for decades of loyal service, and now, this is how we thank him.

“Hello Morgan,” Hanse smiled thinly, “Please, sit down. Can I have the palace staff get you anything?”

Morgan did as he was asked, shaking his head no as he sat. “I am on my way to a reunion of some of the gang from Mallory’s World. Not many of us left. But, I got your message, Hanse. I cannot imagine why it is so important for you to send for me to come incommunicado.”

Hanse nodded. “I am sorry, Morgan for the bit of skullduggery, but it’s important, and sadly, it affects your family. Namely, your son.”

Morgan grimaced knowingly. His brows deepened as he frowned, and the light in his eyes danced with both shame, and anger.

“I think you know why we are here, Morgan.”

Morgan nodded. “I do, Hanse, and I think it very astute for them to ask you to be the one to have this conversation with me.”

Hanse nodded, and handed over a series of still pictures taken from what appeared to be a BattleROM recording. The timestamp was 11 November, 3051, Tamar, Federated Commonwealth. It was from a Quickdraw of the 26th Lyran Guards, and had a Thor in its gunsights, but to the left of the reticule, was a Wolfhound, in a very distinctive scheme. Phelan. It could not be anyone else. Subsequent stills showed the Wolfhound firing on the Quickdraw.

Hanse let Morgan take the photos in for a few moments. “Morgan, these photos came to light two years ago. We’d always been willing to overlook Phelan’s activities with Clan Wolf, because he was a mercenary, rather than a sworn member of the AFFC, but these photos are going to make the lead story tomorrow on DBC. We just found out last night. We’ve asked them to delay for 48 hours for us to have this talk with you.”

“Why, Hanse, you’re just going to try him for treason in absentia, and then have him shot if you ever get his hands on him? And you’re asking me to publicly support this, no?”

Hanse shook his head. “No, Morgan, we aren’t. I had a long chat with Victor, my wife, Katherine, Quintus, and Ardan on what the hell to do about this. Fact is, DBC is forcing us to do something. And right now, with us doing well against the clans, thus far…”

“The people want blood?”

“Precisely, I have people outside the palace every day here on both New Avalon and on Tharkad with placards of their missing children demanding we start putting the screws to Falcon and Viper bondsmen till we get the whereabouts of their kids. And for us not to do anything about Phelan? It would be political dynamite, especially in Tamar.”

“So Hanse, you’re going to ask me to sacrifice my son for the sake of the Commonwealth?”

Hanse nodded yes. “But I won’t have him killed or kidnapped, so long as he stays in the Wolf OZ. I furthermore promise you that, so long as he refrains from setting foot in the Commonwealth ever again, he has nothing to fear, unless he takes up arms against us. If he is taken alive, he will be arrested for treason, and aid and comfort to an enemy in time of war. If that happens, I do at least promise he will get the best representation in the Commonwealth, and a fair trial in the Davion half. He couldn’t get one in the Steiner half.”

“And you expect me to tell him that?”

“Yes, Morgan, I do. I expect you to tell him because otherwise, Victor’s hand will be forced, and it could cause a crisis in the Lyran half of the Commonwealth. I don’t want that, and I don’t think you do either.”

Morgan swore softly, Dammit Hanse, you are right. And sadly, this is the best deal Phelan can probably expect. At least he won’t be kidnapped by Loki or MI-6 and dragged back here in chains. And who knows, maybe we can go visit him? This is of course, assuming that the Wolves are allowed to stay in the Inner Sphere?

“Damn you, Hanse. I agree. But know this, you’re asking me to participate in the exile of my own son. A son I named after the brother I lost saving the life of your wife. You must acknowledge that much.” Morgan’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, tears he was too proud to shed in front of Hanse Davion.

Hanse nodded “I know Morgan, and if Victor and I had another choice, we would. But there isn’t any. And you know it, Morgan. We cannot protect him, especially when these BattleROM stills come out.”

“May I have a moment, Hanse, alone? I’d like to think about what to say to my son?”

Hanse nodded, and made to step out into the hall. He stopped for a moment, and turned to Morgan. “Morgan, for what it’s worth. I am sorry. I wish there were another way, but there isn’t.” He then opened the door and stepped out into the hall, the door closing with a quiet click that sounded like the most mournful sound imaginable to Morgan. It was like losing Patrick all over again.

The tears and sobs came on suddenly, Morgan bit his hand to prevent his moans of sorrow from escaping. My son, the traitor? What did I do wrong? What the hell did Salome and I do wrong? Where did we fail you, Phelan? Morgan collapsed on the leather couch, soon he was not caring who heard his sorrow.

Hanse overheard the cries from the hall, and stopped the senior guard who made for the door. “No, Captain Alstead. Give him whatever time he needs and please make sure the staff fulfills his every wish, he is a patriot, and he didn’t deserve this. But a man like Morgan Kell deserves his private pain. We owe it to him to let him mourn, and we shall do so, clear?”

The entire guard force came to attention and semi-shouted “Clear, Your Highness!” as one.

“Now, to find my wife. I could so use a goddamned drink right now.”
 

Omake: Interview with the Archon
By GladiusOne of Spacebattles

Classified Location,
Tharkad, Federated Commonwealth,
7th October, 3055

Colonel the Baroness Juliette von Strang, exiled ruler of Von Strang's World and commander of the mercenary unit Von Strang's Legion, sipped at her whisky glass, appreciating the smoky flavor as she studied the woman sitting across from her in the main sitting room of the Tharkad chalet. The fire crackled off to one side, throwing a little extra light over not only the two women, but the numerous security guards and soldiers trying to fade into the background along the walls. "If I had known that accepting Colonel Kell's invitation to attend the anti-Tanker conference here would have led to me being whisked away by Royal troops, only to wind up sitting across from the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth ... I'm not sure if I would have agreed."

Melissa Steiner-Davion smiled over her glass of red wine. "Oh, so you didn't find the convention to be useful? I would think that the opportunity to pick the brains of mercenary and House regimental commanders regarding the fight against the Clans would be of great interest to you, given your history."

Juliette shrugged. "For the most part, they were rehashing over things that we have all known for years, and, in my opinion, stupidly reinforcing many of the same old attitudes about Clan 'tactical superiority' and how suicidal it is to actually fight them. Instead of finding ways to actually deal with them, most seem to be trying to find ways of working with them, or at least around them." She shook her head. "Oh, I appreciated Duke Morgan's lecture on the Battle of Luthien, and Colonel Greyson's panel on the defense of Sudeten was very interesting." Pausing to take a sip, she continued, "My own presentation on the proper technique for tying a hangman's noose was strangely lightly attended and poorly reviewed."

After all: what else do you deal with pirates and bandits than by decisive measures?

"I ... can understand why that was somewhat outputting. I understand Colonel Wolf's review was ... less than flattering."

Juliette blinked. "And the opinion of a crypto-Tanker should mean something to me ... why?"

Melissa nodded in acceptance of the point, then moved on. "Very well: to the point of this meeting. Your unit's efforts against Clan Jade Falcon has not gone unnoticed." She paused. "I would like to personally thank you for your attempts to warn the Commonwealth authorities on Here ... and to apologize for the way they treated you in return."

The Periphery-born mercenary shrugged. "There is no need: my family has always been aware of how the Inner Sphere regards our bloodline. But ..." she nodded slightly in recognition. "Thank you."

"In any case, the proven effectiveness of the Legion's tactics and raids has been noted at the highest levels ... including my dinner table." She smiled. "I might be forgiven for mentioning, in confidence, that Prince Victor is something of an admirer, and defends your position vigorously."

Juliette blinked again, this time in genuine surprise. "That ... I was not expecting." The blonde future ruler of the Federated Commonwealth was about her age, very handsome (if somewhat ... lacking in the height department) and a very accomplished warrior, having, like her, come of age in the time of the Clan onslaught. Most of his battles had been against Clan Jade Falcon, and she had studied his tactics and victories extensively. "I ... his exploits against the enemy are also very impressive."

Melissa smiled. "I understand that your unit is undergoing refit and retraining, after your latest expansion: six full wings of aerospace fighters, I believe?"

"Actually, only three: our squadrons use a four-bird lance, just like our 'Mech and armour units," qualified Juliette. "But yes, we now have as many fighters as 'Mechs. We're also expanding our mechanized infantry command to a full battalion, and I'm investigating the possibility of deploying armored troopers ... which is another reason why I was willing to come along, to speak to several suppliers."

"Well, you will be happy to know that the AFFC is interested in extending your contract, and we are offering subsidies for units who specialize in anti-Clan operations."

Juliette smiled, her fangs sliding into view. "Ah, so this is in regards to the upcoming offensive." She downed her whisky, and reached for the bottle.

The Archon frowned. "I ... how did you know about that?"

"Oh, it's hardly common knowledge, but there have been a lot of reconnaissance raid contracts available of late, as well as delivering supplies and reinforcements to resistance groups," stated Juliette, pouring herself another drink. "And the Birds have become rather ... touchy about their flanks: hell, entire regions of some worlds are becoming 'no go' zones for Tanker troops, with the garrisons sticking close to the cities and industrial areas. True, they still stomp down hard on buildups of rebellion, but there are quite a few places where you can find FedCom flags flying openly." She sat back in her chair, and cradled her drink. "Combine that with the sudden rise in prices of artillery, ammunition, armor plate and a decrease in availability of JumpShip support, and the conclusion is ... not much of a leap."

"I see." Melissa didn't seem too put off by the mercenary noblewoman's deduction. "In any case, you are right. We are planning to take back our worlds from the Jade Falcons, and we would like you and your Legion to be a part of -"

"No."

The silence in the room was broken only by the crackle of the fire.

"I'm not sure you understand," said Melissa after a few moments, trying to regain her equilibrium. "The Commonwealth -"

"Wants help to establish control over the Periphery worlds currently occupied by the Clans, and you would like to help prop me up as the focal point for an 'independent' realm, being the rightful ruler of the Barony, with a history in the region and a reputation for honest dealing and brutal tactics. I believe a similar offer was extended to a colonel Pavel Ridzik, and your government helped create the 'Tikonov Free Republic.'" She paused. "That realm lasted, what, three years before it was absorbed wholesale into your Sarna March?

"Highness, I am a ruler in exile, but a ruler nevertheless. I understand your goal is to restore control over the worlds and lost territory that ... no," she paused, noting the expression on Melissa's face, "You wish to liberate the people, your people who live on those worlds. It is a motivation I understand all too well. So please, try to understand that I have absolutely no interest in becoming the puppet ruler of a rump nation that will quickly be absorbed into the conglomeration that is the Federated Commonwealth. I am fighting to free my people from one set of alien overlords: do you really think that I would welcome enslaving them to another, simply because your homeworld is closer to Terra?"

"Colonel, please. We have no interest in expanding into the Periphery: if nothing else, history teaches us that it has never been a good idea. The Reunification Wars were a bloody, expensive and ultimately pointless exercise ... which led to the Amaris Coup and all that followed."

"I am familiar with the history of the Periphery, Highness: my family features prominently in it. But I have never known Spheroids to be particularly amenable to listening to reason when it comes to 'Periphery scum who need to learn their place' ... or for paying attention to history, given the devastation of your Succession Wars over the centuries."

Melissa tilted her head in recognition. "True. However, requiring the scores of worlds taken from the Commonwealth by the Falcons, reintegrating them into the nation, healing the wounds of the occupation ... it will be the work of decades, and it would be irresponsible of us to simultaneously attempt to absorb a recalcitrant group of Periphery worlds and former pirate havens.

"However, an allied nation, ruled from Von Strang's World, supported by the Commonwealth but independent, would be a useful buffer against further incursions by coreward invaders like the Clans, or the other Deep Periphery nations that may turn their attention towards the Commonwealth."

Juliette sat quietly for a few moments. "So, what you really want is a shield of ablative armor to protect your coreward flank, to act as a tripwire against repeat invasions, and to keep fighting away from your own worlds as much as possible."

Melissa paused. "There is an element of that. On the other hand, it would help to bring order to a region that borders our own nation, and provides safety and security to those who live there, as well as opening avenues of trade and exploration. Instead of having a pirate nation like the old Oberon Confederation threatening our border worlds, we would have an ally and friend."

Juliette cradled her glass, studying the co-ruler of the largest single Inner Sphere realm. "... You are honest, at least." She considered. "We would receive Commonwealth support?"

"Certainly. Not House troops, of course, but funding, surplus equipment, a few words in the ears of certain mercenary groups -"

"No Dragoons or Blue Stars," interjected Juliette, her mind whirring, "Anything with a Star League - or, gods forbid, a Clan heritage - would be worse than Lyran Regulars." Then she stopped. "There is, of course, a price."

"Of course," agreed Melissa. "This all hinges on your participating in the offensive, rather prominently: with a suitably impressive contribution, the less ... savory parts of your family history can be muffled over, and your preferred tactics can be ... put into perspective. We need to be able to show that the Commonwealth is doing the right thing by supporting your ... Reconquista. "

Juliette nodded, noting down the term in her mind. "So ... we need to offer ... a spectacle." She sighed. "The Legion is not a show unit, Highness, nor is it a beautiful instrument of graceful maneuver. We are a hammer."

The smile Melissa showed was clearly learned from her husband, the Fox. "Oh, I know that well enough, and we would never waste your force in such a manner. We would like to hold your unit back, at least for the first wave, and choose a suitable target, so that you can make an impact ... and so that you can hurt the Jade Falcons." Her smile broadened, and for a moment, Juliette remembered the Steiner's claim to Viking heritage. "Tell me, my lady ... what do you think about Sudeten?"

If anything, Juliette's fanged smile became even more predatory. "Please, Archon Steiner-Davion," she said respectfully, "Tell me more ..."

War Room

Forbidden City

Sian

Capellan Confederation

October 11th, 3056


The dark of the war room was only broken by the cerulean lights of the various displays denoting troop positions along the Capellan border with the Federated Suns. Many of them were flashing green, denoting that they were ready to begin combat operations, all they needed was the codeword to do so. Sun-Tsu smiled thinly, I am pleased, so far, the Davions seem to suspect nothing, our OPSEC has been better than I expected, and the raids we have launched have convinced them that we will be content to sit out their little pummeling of the Clans. Let them think that, right until the stroke of my sword to their neck.

He glanced at his assembled generals. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are on the cusp of avenging the insults the Davions have subjected us to for the past 600 years. We stand ready to deliver the vengeance of the Capellan people, and liberate those who have toiled under the yoke of the so-called “freedom” of the Federated Commonwealth for so long. We shall show the Fox and his spawn why it is best to respect us, and why we have long memories. Execute EAST SEA on schedule. We will cross the border in three days, a fitting gift for their ‘Grain Rebellion’ Day.”

One clap broke the silence of the room, it soon became two, and soon the clapping became a flood, and Sun-Tsu extended his arms in triumph. He turned towards Alexa, standing against a corner of the room, her arms folded as she looked on. She was not clapping, and her eyes said Careful, my liege, we bet much on the uncertainties of this operation, and there is no guarantee this will even come close to success.

Sun-Tsu knew this all too well, he did not expect to survive this war, but if a solid enough blow could be struck, then perhaps a tired Federated Commonwealth could be brought to the negotiating table, and what gains that were taken through force of arms…could be solidified by politics, or, at least, that was the hope. My life is but a small cost to strengthen our nation.

But, he could not get the thought out of his mind of the ancient example of Imperial Japan, and its attack on Pearl Harbor. While it was wildly successful at first, it’s war leader, Yamamoto’s prediction about “six months of victory” seemed ever present in Sun-Tsu’s mind. We must drive the Davions to the table. It’s the only way this will work. But there are too many “ifs”? Will the Mariks help us? Will the guerillas we have in place launch the General Uprisings as planned? Will the Word of Blake honor their agreements? It’s a lot to bet on a “pair of 8s” as Archie McCarron once said, but I will be happy if we retake Sarna, and destabilize St. Ives enough to allow us to move in as “peacekeepers”. And, if the Mariks retake some of the Sirian worlds and wreak a little havoc along the Steiner frontier? All the better. It will split the FC response.

He turned to the war room again, his smile wide this time, reflected in the lights of the various displays, and shouted

“Wǒ men jiāng yòng dà wèi ēn de xiān xuè lái xǐ dí wǒ men de cháng máo!” – We will wash our spears in Davion blood.

The room erupted in joyous cheers, and cries of “Xin Sheng!”

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

…I didn’t know if Sun-Tsu at that moment had lost his mind, there were many moments during the coming days, especially as things began to fall apart on Sian that I came close to doing what he asked me to do, before that fateful, awful day. But the day that Sun-Tsu gave the go order? That day was electric, Capellan pride thumped in our chest like jackhammers. I screamed “Xin Sheng!” along with the rest of the assembled generals and their staffs. It was almost a shame that reality set in as harshly as it did.

"My Years with the Chancellor", Alexa Shang, Colonel, CCAF (Ret), Loyalty Press, Sian, 3075



5000m AGL above the Unity Palace

Imperial City

Luthien

October 12th, 3056


The whooshing sound of the atmosphere rushing by the skin of the Elemental Suit of Star Captain Lucas Perez of the 6th Jaguar Dragoons matched the exhilaration of his own heart. Two of the three frontline galaxies and a garrison galaxy had dropped on Luthien, most right onto the Kado-Guchi Valley. But a trinary of Elementals, all volunteers from the 6th Jaguar Dragoons, had been dropped directly onto the Unity Palace, the very beating heart of the Draconis Combine, home to the ruling family house of Kurita, and the Combine’s literal center of gravity.


There had been no batchall this time, and the Jaguar force had arrived at a pirate point only 4 days out from the planet, the warships first turning their guns onto the orbital infrastructure, then any Combine forces not on the Hokkaido continent. The bombardment went on for three days, but it had not been a one-sided affair, as Combine missile carrying submarines hiding in the Copper Sea had fired nuclear tipped ballistic missiles at the warships, and had shot down the Korat, a Liberator Class Cruiser, and the flagship of Delta Galaxy.


Star Captain Perez ‘s. mission was simple. Seize Unity Palace and capture alive any members of the Kurita line they could, it was expected that this would most likely not be possible, but their bodies would do nicely if not, then hold the palace until relief came. Star Captain Perez didn’t intend to take any Combine bondsmen. Why sully the Clan with their honorless ways? We should have just sterilized the planet. They did cooperate with the Usurper, did they not?


A buzzing alarm drew Perez’s attention, letting him know that he was at optimal altitude to begin his de-acceleration burn for his final decent. He stomped both pedals in his suit, triggering the jump jets built into the pack on his back, he held them down as his velocity indicator began to spin downwards, descending from 800 meters per second to 100 meters per second within moments. His point was doing likewise, and the smoke from the exhaust began to billow up and obscure his vision.


“Go Thermal” he bellowed, and the world became a kaleidoscope of blues, reds, and oranges, the colors depending on the heat given off by various objects in the proposed landing zone, a small clearing within the walls of the palace. He saw various man-sized objects scurrying around the various parts of the palace, the resolution of the imager didn’t allow for him to be able to tell if they were armed or not, and as far as Perez was concerned, it did not matter. It is nice for the Combine to provide me with so many targets for me and my men. I will have to thank them.


Perez’s Elemental suit hit the surface of Luthien with a bone jarring crash that was felt all the way up Perez’s spine. He swiveled the head of his suit to his left slowly, eventually completing a 360-degree circuit. His command point was loaded out with .50 caliber machine guns in the primary slot, and an automatic shotgun in the AP weapon slot. One star was packing lasers, and the last was packing flamers, in short, the trinary was ready to face any threat that they might run into in the palace, but Perez wasn’t sure this was going to be much more than a slaughter of freebirth.


He keyed his radio with his mouth and barked “Alpha Star, report!”


“Point One, reports ready.” That was Kieran, a crusty old Star Commander who somehow managed to win trial after trial for his leadership position in the Trinary Command Star. He had so far, not lost. He acted as Perez’s bodyguard.


“Point Two, reports ready” chimed in a high-pitched voice, that belonged to Dara. Her voice did not match her physique, and those who teased her about it..did so once, because she often would demand satisfaction in a Circle of Equals. She had a solid point, who would follow her anywhere.


“Point Three, reports ready” a voice robotically replied. That was Varius. He was something of a loner, and didn’t have much of a life outside being a Smoke Jaguar. He followed orders robotically, and really wasn’t much of a deep thinker. His point was solid, but due to it’s unimaginative commander, tended to have a high casualty rate.


“Point Four, I crashed through the stravag roof. I estimate it will take me 30 seconds or so to work my way free, Star Captain!” This was Arden. He was new, fresh from the sibko, but he had shown much progress in various actions against the guerillas. Perez had no doubt he would do well. His symbol on the map repeater screen showed he had drifted 1000 meters away to the northwest, coming down in a building the watch labeled as “servants quarters”. The rest of his point was scattered to hell and gone from the looks of it.


“Trinary Command acknowledges your situation Point Four, meet us at the RV. We will work our way to you. Strength and Honor, Arden.”


“Bravo and Charlie Stars, report!” Perez barked again.


“Bravo Point 1 reports, we lost Point 2’s lead on the drop. Matthew was rammed by a Combine fighter.”


Perez smiled. Matthew had a good death to cap an otherwise average career. Shame, I was thinking of recommending him for the next Perez bloodright trial.


Perez heard nothing from Charlie..which was strange. “Anyone from Charlie Star, report!”


“Alpha Command, Bravo Point 4. I heard Charlie’s dropship go off the air on the net. They reported coming under heavy attack by fighters just before they stopped transmitting.”


“Freebirth” Perez muttered. 49 Elementals against who knew how many stravag Kuritans. No, I need to push on, the Clan would expect no less.


“Trinary Delta, we will push on with our original mission regardless of casualties. Bravo Star, seize and clear the palace armory before pushing on to the Coordinator’s private quarters. We shall continue our mission to the throne room. Strength and Honor, Delta Trinary!”


“Strength and Honor, OvKhan!”


Perez began to push his way towards the RV, a point in the northwest corner of the clearing. He noticed the entire clearing was surrounded with plants and trees of all kinds, and he might have considered it beautiful, had Perez cared about such things, such frivolity was the acumen of the Wolves, or the Ghost Bears, and that is why they are weak.


Several short bursts of heavy machine gun fire interrupted his thoughts. Point 3 was engaging an unseen target, and Perez swept the wall with his thermal sensors, he saw a pair of figures cowering behind a wall, and several other cooling bodies that Varius had already killed. Perez put his crosshairs onto one of the cowering figures, and let the caret pulse red to signify it had locked onto the target. He triggered his primary weapon, and the machine gun roared with a deep CHUNK-CHUNK-CHUNK as the .50 caliber shells tore apart the flimsy wooden structure, as splinters and dust flew away, and the shells tore apart the cowering figure. The target soon fell, with a smaller chunk falling away in a different direction, and the body beginning to rapidly cool. He then moved his cursor slightly to the left, and noticed the other figure was already down. Varius is ever efficient.


Perez again keyed his radio “Alpha Star, we push on now to the Throne Room. The Combine defenders are confused and surprised. This will not last. We must take advantage. Arden, assemble as best you can, and guard our rear as we advance. This will be quite the fight.”


“I am free, OvKhan, engaged and neutralized three defenders, two women, and one child. I have three members of my point to hand. Am proceeding as instructed.”


“Well done Arden.”


“Gain us entry, Point 2.” Perez instructed.


An Elemental sat on his haunches, and fired both SRM-2s into the building onto either side of a shattered window. Both warheads exploded, sending wood splinters flying high into the air and a large dust cloud into the sky. Fire had begun in several parts of the palace as the sky became thick with smoke.


As the first Elemental began to move through the breach, the smoke and flash of a quartet of LAW rockets reached out from a building overlooking the southern edge of the clearing and scored a series of hits onto the backpack of the elemental, one or more detonating the SRMs in a loud ROAR and a bright orange flash. Once the flash had cleared, all that was left of the elemental was a pair of smoking boots. The rest of the palace soon came alive with muzzle flashes of all calibers, and Perez began to hear the wasp-like buzz of rounds passing his suit, or the ping of a spent bullet hitting home. “Stravag, they know we are here.”


The THUD-THUD-THUD of a Heavy Machine Gun roared out from the breach, the tracers pinning another elemental like a butterfly, and tearing large chunks from it, harjel pouring forth like black ooze.

Perez heard the screams of pain and frustration of the elemental. It was one of Dara’s lot, was Jerus his name? He wasn’t sure. He was new from the sibko on Huntress, and now, he was paying for his inexperience.


Perez stepped up to the jagged hole to the left of the window, and fired a pair of SRMs down the hall overlooking the breach, then followed it up with a long burst from his machine gun. He was rewarded with a silence broken only by a series of low moans. He raised his suit’s claw arm, and waved them forward. Nothing more needed to be said. The hall itself was burnt and pockmarked, and the padding that lined the teak floor was scorched and torn, but it must have been beautiful once, he came to the site of the heavy machine gun, it was an ugly black monster mounted on a tripod, Perez instantly recognized it as a Sperry-Browning .50 caliber model meant to be mounted in a battlemech or combat vehicle. The crew was splayed around the weapon..which was rent by fragments from the SRMs Perez had fired, all of them had gaping wounds and were clad in the uniform of the Otomo. He heard low moans from one of the crew, a petite, toned woman of mixed Asian and African descent. He turned towards her and bend down, grabbing her by her breastplate with his suits claw and lifting her effortlessly.


She looked no older than 30, her features were pleasing, once, but she had multiple cuts and abrasions across her face, and she was bleeding profusely from a wound in her abdomen that leaked ichor from under her breastplate, she was coughing up blood occasionally. He locked eyes with the Combine freebirth. Her helmet was gone, lost in the miscellaneous items of the ruined machinegun position, which allowed her long, silky hair to spill out across her shoulders.


She let out a slow moan, she croaked out the word “shinjimae” before she spat blood onto Perez’s suit in a sign of contempt, then grinned at Perez with blood-soaked teeth. Perez saw red, and raised his machinegun arm, and put a single round into her head at close range, taking her head off in a spray of blood and brains, he then tossed her broken body into a corner like so much rubbish.


“Clear this place, leave no survivors.” Perez muttered dangerously.


Personal Quarters of the Archon Prince

Royal Palace

New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth

October 14th, 3056


Victor Ian Steiner-Davion was many things, among them an accomplished soldier, and so far, a decent if not perfect monarch. But what he wasn’t was an expert on bow ties for a tuxedo. Why do I need to wear a tux when a dress uniform will do? Oh yes, Mom insisted I do so at the Daughters of the Federated Suns Grain Rebellion Gala. Shows my civilian side. Ok, ok, but the damn bow ties…ugh!


His sister Katherine shook her head and laughed. “Big bro, do you want me to do that for you?”


“No sis, If ruling the Fedcom means I learn to do my own bow ties, then so be it.”


“Stubborn as always, big brother, stubborn as always. I know you wish I was the one going.”

“You are the media darling of the Fedcom?” Victor half-pleaded, sounding a bit needier than he had intended.


“Victor, it’s an act, a persona I put on to hide the real me, the broken me.” Katherine’s illness wasn’t well known outside royal circles. Publicly, her absences from public were sold to the press as “exhaustion”, which riled Katherine, even if she understood the reason. I don’t think the people would react well if they knew the regent for the Lyran half of the Fedcom suffered from major depressive disorder. I wish I could tell Mom and Dad I really hate all the prevaricating, and the face I must put on with those not “in the know”.


Victor threw his hands up in disgust. “I am going with a clip-on; Mom’s sartorial demands can be…modified.” Victor stated diplomatically, but with a frustrated edge in his voice. “Hey, sis, be glad you aren’t going to this thing. It’s the same old speeches, with the same old rubber chicken and fake smiles and same old old biddie nobles who seem to live to attend court and throw self-congratulatory parties. Thank god there’s less of them in the Suns!”


Katherine shook her head “Amen to that, I think I’ve exceeded my plastic smile quota for the month. But, brother, I do have some real-world stuff to discuss.”


Victor studied his sister. She was wearing a NAIS alumni sweatshirt and jeans combo she saved for casual days around the palace. Her hair was up in a bun and she had bags under her eyes. She’s been putting in long nights with the Ministry of the Exchequer again. Bad news I presume.


“Hit me sis.” Victor said, a tone that suggested he was bracing for the worst.


“It’s not that bad Victor,” Katherine smiled, “shortages are at the levels we expected, mostly luxury items, our reinstating the Luxury Lotteries have helped a lot on that score. My main concern, with ammunition and spare parts expenditures twice what your folks at T & R suggested, I am going to have to rejigger the jumpship figures to get the supplies to the front. Believe me, that operational pause was a good idea, no matter how much you do not like it.”


It was a rare family argument between all of us on that one. Katherine had sided with the generals, as had dad. Mom and I wanted to finish matters while we had the Clanners on the damn run! But, honestly, we really had fired off a lot more ammo than we had expected, especially on the artillery side. And we’d tripled estimates even before Clover Spear kicked off! Oh well, no plan ever survives…


Victor’s thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Your highness, your mother is becoming rather insistent you ‘get your royal arse’ on the road. Her words, not mine, your highness.”


Victor chuckled. “Hold down the fort Katherine, I suspect you will have more fun than Mom, Dad, and I will. What do you have planned anyhow?”


“Misha Auburn and I are having a girl’s night. She managed to get a copy of the Orient Express remake that came out last month? I am thinking popcorn and movie night, perhaps some wine and gossip too, it will be nice to take a break.”


Victor shook his head. “Sounds better than my evening. My speech is just recycled from one Dad gave 20 years ago. I doubt most of them will notice.”

Katherine shook her head again, this time disapprovingly “Victor, as much as I acknowledge you see yourself as a humble mechjock who would rather hang out with the boys, you’re in the ruling family, and with that, comes responsibilities. I know it sucks..”

“..but I was born first. I get it Katherine. But dammit, I don’t have to like it.” Victor grumbled “Especially on nights like this.”

“Nights like this are precisely why you are needed. People need to see, as much as there is a war on, and they can’t get coffee or nylons in the stores, and rationing is rife, that their leaders are doing business as usual. They’ll figure, ‘if they aren’t panicking, then why should I?’.”

“Point taken, Sister. But you get to be the designated survivor tonight. Lucky you.” Victor quipped.

“I don’t see it that way Victor. Think about what I am staying behind as a hedge against?”

Yeah, let’s hope this is a quiet night for everyone on that score..Victor mused.

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

DISPATCH TO ALL UNITS.

FLASH DISPATCH

MULTIPLE EXPLOSIONS REPORTED AT AVALON CITY CONVENTION CENTER, EXECUTE TERROR ATTACK PROTOCOLS

ALL UNITS RESPOND, PRIORITY CALL

RECALL, RECALL

EXPECTED MASCAS

CHAOS 2211

VIPs AMONGST POTENTIAL CASUALTIES, INCLUDING MEMBERS OF THE ROYAL FAMILY.

ALL UNITS RESPOND, PRIORITY CALL

RECALL, RECALL


Transcript from Avalon City Emergency Services radio dispatch frequency, timestamp 2214, 14 October, 3056 (released to the public 7 September, 3057)

Situation Room

Fox’s Den, Mount Davion

New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth

November 6th, 3056



As the briefing droned on with news of an inconclusive battle here, a Blakist or Capellan terror attack there, the litany all meant one thing to Katherine. It’s all on my damn watch, and I am dancing to Sun-Tsu’s tune. She drummed her fingers as she reached through her mind. She’d been mostly a passive observer in the military and intelligence briefings, still a bit in shock over the events of nineteen days before. She’d given Nondi more autonomy on the Clan front, and Nondi in her last communication said that the Steel Vipers “..were horribly telegraphing their intentions”. Whatever the hell that meant.

Victor was still in a coma, and Katherine made a point of reading to him by his bed, a chapter a day from the classics. Katherine smiled at that, he wasn’t much for classic literature, but now? Now I think he’s a bit of a captive audience. They were on the third chapter of Moby Dick, but reading to Victor just reminds me how I miss him, and how I am on the damn backfoot because of that murderous jackal on Sian! And Peter, Yvonne, Arthur? Jesus, they’re in godddamned seclusion! I can’t even send a message to them! I can’t be the big sister I need to be, the ruler I need to be? All I can be is angry, impotent..and…

There was a SNAP, Katherine hadn’t realized it, but she had snapped her stylus from the anger over the fate of her parents. All the heads in the Situation Room turned. A thought came unbidden to Katherine. “Ladies and Gentlemen, can everyone but the principals clear the room?” Katherine queried. It wasn’t long before a rustling of papers and chairs commenced as the veritable army of junior aides, briefers, and clerical personnel cleared the room. Katherine waited for all of them to clear the room. Once the last of them left, the door closed with a snick, it seemed louder to Katherine that it possibly could have. She took a deep breath, surveyed the room. Time to show them the nutcase has some teeth after all.

“Ladies and Gents, to put it in terms my father would have said, these last three and a half weeks have been a terrible ass kicking. I intend we begin to put an end to it: Now.”

Quintus Allard cleared his throat, his deputy Alex Mallory rustling through his papers expecting a request from his boss for information to back up a point his boss to make. “Your Highness, as much as I would like to, it’s been a little tough just keeping ahead of all the Capellan and Blakist terror cells loose in the Sarna and Capellan Marches. And with Sarna under Capellan control…”

“I am aware of these challenges, but my family has been murdered, my brother clings to life in a hospital bed, and worse, our people cower in fear of almost daily terror attacks. No Quintus, I am done reacting. We are going to start taking control of this mess back. And that begins now.” Katherine reached for an old, tattered olive green mapcase, it was standard Davion issue, and had a faded patch of the 3rd Davion Guards, a bird of prey soaring with a sword in it’s talons. She opened it and removed a folder and placed it on the table. Alex Mallory leaned over and picked it up, and then leafed through it, his face slowly going white.

“Who compiled this, your Highness?”

“My father, he did so with the cooperation of your office. He just compiled names he saw in the daily briefs he still received. I suspect he knew we might need this. I am sad to say that he was right. I want all the names on this list dead by the end of the month, Alex. And no, damn the consequences!”

“Your highness, some on this list are prominent citizens of the Free Worlds League, two are members of their Parliament. One is an adviser to Thomas Marik. We can’t just…”

Katherine saw red. “Yes, we can, Alex. I am tired of having open season declared on my family. Of letting that little bastard on Sian call the tune! He decided the type of war he wanted. Well, now he gets it. And if Thomas wants to give aid and comfort to the doers? Then a little of this is going to splash on him. And no, if that means war with him too, then so be it. He should know better. I will give him the chance to hand these people over to us before we take them out, but if they aren’t in our hands by the end of the month, then they will have seen their last sunrise. No ifs, ands, or buts, Alex.”

Alex blanched “Your Highness, this could hurt our agent networks in the League.”

Katherine breathed “I am aware of that. I know it’s a big risk for those men and women we have sent there. But, it’s what we have trained them to do. And its cold comfort that we ask them to do it simply for queen and country, but ladies and gentlemen, this goes beyond politics as usual in the Inner Sphere. If we don’t do this, no one and nothing is safe. The Blakists hit a damn shopping mall on Kestrel a week ago full of Christmas shoppers. No, we need to make it very unhealthy for these people. And Alex?”

“Yes, your Highness?”

“I want the targets to know who and why they are dying. Instruct the agents to tell their targets, or leave a calling card that says, “Greetings from Hanse and Melissa Steiner-Davion.” And I want two Capellan names added to that list. Kali Liao, and Dina Fererra.”

“You want us to kill the head of the Maskirovka and the Chancellor’s sister?”

“She planned the operation that killed my parents, and he needs to know the pain of losing family.” Katherine said serenely. “After this, Alex, no more killings. We win this war clean. But now, we let them know they chose this war and the form it takes. We get to choose our form of retribution, and we will choose the form in which it ends. And I fully intend for it to end in our favor.”
 

Taken from the daily FC operational briefing provided to Field Marshal Ranier Poulin, Supreme Commander of “Operation Clover Spear”, declassified October 9th, 3076.


“..current Jade Falcon and Steel Viper operations are characterized as “chaotic, but recovering” due to the current pause in operations. We expect enough ammunition and POL restocks to be on-hand within the next ten days to jump off for the third wave sometime in early November. The fall of Sudeten has eased the logistical situation due to the improved cargo handling facilities both at L5 and planet side.”

“SIGINT and HUMINT sources have detected signs of an impending Steel Viper counterattack coming within the next 10-15 days (see Appendix A – Enemy Dispositions and intentions) for details on this, but we feel confident we can defeat any counterattack they mount due to the fact that they have no intelligence as to current defenses of potential target worlds and from the size of the logistical dumps we have captured, it suggests that both the Falcons and Vipers were having supply problems even before Clover Spear commenced.”


Sudeten, Part 2

Attackers: Von Strang’s Legion (Reinforced Regiment, Elite), Wolf’s Dragoon’s Volunteer Cluster, Provisional Royal Guards Battalion.

Defenders: Doberung Garrison Cluster, Clan Jade Falcon, saKhan’s Provisional Keshik, Clan Jade Falcon, “Hazen’s Heroes” Cluster (scratch three trinary cluster of a mix of solahma trainers and sibko children who fought as infantry).


Results: The defense of Maakar Island by the scratch force of Jade Falcon defenders was by all accounts, brave, determined, and doomed. After a short, violent bombardment by Dragoon warships and FC aerospace of the fixed defenses in the early morning hours, Von Strang’s Legion performed an avalanche drop right on top of “Hazen’s Heroes.” The Falcon defenders met the initial drop by Von Strang’s Legion gamely and fought hard every step of the way to the command bunker, where Von Strang was hit in the flank by the Falcon Provisional Keshik. Even with a weight and technology advantage favoring the Falcons, the Legion, wheeled to meet them and held them in place, coolly meeting them head to head and unhorsing saKhan Chistu in the initial volleys.

After a long four hour fight, Jamie Wolf arrived with his Volunteer Cluster, built mostly around the elements of Zeta Battalion and a few warriors from the other component units of the Dragoons, they dropped behind the Provisional Keshik, and the Legion and the Dragoons closed the vise in another two hours of a fight that was described as “like firing submachineguns at each other in a vidphone booth, with blindfolds.”

A counterattack by the remains of the Doberung into the flank of the Dragoons was met by the provisional Royal Guards Battalion, and smashed handily, with copious assistance from airstrikes by aerospace elements from the Legion, the Dragoons and the Royal Guards.

Two hours later, the senior surviving officer, a Star Captain Lisl, ordered all surviving Jade Falcon forces to surrender. It was mute testimony to the severity of the short, sharp fight, that only 80 Jade Falcon EPWs were taken, but among them was saKhan Vandervahn Chistu himself. He has since been handed over to LIC and MOJ officials for debriefing. Sudeten was declared secure by Jamie Wolf on October 9th, 3056.

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

1800m AGL above Maakar Island

Sudeten

Jade Falcon Occupation Zone

October 9th, 3056



Juliette grunted as the DropShop shuddered around her 'Mech, the Tepes clearly hitting turbulence. Glancing at the status display, she nodded, feeling the weight of her neurohelmet with the gesture. Flipping switches on her console, she activated the Legion-wide circuit. "Legionaires. You know me. I have no grand speech for you: simply know that this, today, is our day. This is the first step on the long road home. We have fought on a dozen worlds, slaughtered a thousand beasts, but today, my Legion," she glanced over at the rapidly ticking altimeter, "Today, we murder a khan."


With that, the bottom dropped out of the world as all three of her Legion's 'Mech carrier DropShips deployed their cargo. Instead of dropping from orbit, wrapped in ablative cocoons and rocket engines, her 'Mechs were dropping from low altitude, relying on strap-on jump packs to break their fall ... mostly.


The Dragoon WarShip had managed to suppress the Falcon's heavy weapon turrets, and a swarm of Legion and FedCom fighters had distracted the anti-air weapons of the island, enough to allow three Overlord class ships to penetrate their defenses and deploy their passengers ... right on top of the Falcon defenders.


Screaming in fury, Juliette's Devastator landed feet first on a Falcon 'Mech, smashing the ugly, green painted thing to the ground with a hundred tons of gravity-accelerated force. Biting her lip, she shuddered to find her footing, then focused on the enemy ... the targets ... that surrounded her.


Swinging the long, heavily armoured barrel of her right gauss rifle, she smashed a Falcon Galahad aside, before raising her left rifle to place almost against the Rifleman-like 'Mech's torso and pumped a 125kg slug of nickel-iron into it, slagging the second-line 'Mech's engine and smashing it's gyro to splinters.


She was vaguely aware of her men and women fighting around her, with her friend and bodyguard Andre Winters, who had traded in his normal quad-gauss rifle toting Marauder II for a Berserker for this fight, decapitating a Falcon Baboon, and Shou squaring off his King Crab and letting loose with both heavy, rapid fire autocannons to shred a Phoenix Hawk IIC. But she couldn't focus on that, as the Falcons were fighting back, downing a brand-new Rakshasa from Third Company, First Battalion. "Tighten up, people," she shouted across the Legion's channel, even as rocket-assisted pallets slammed into the ground, dispensing their cargo of Patton, Rommel and Manticore tanks, firing autocannon, gauss rifles and PPCs even before they were completely unstrapped. Ferrocrete crumbled beneath their treads as they advanced, adding their firepower to the battle against the Falcons. "Concentrate fire! We've trained for this! Bring them down! Keep up the pressure!" she howled and grinned in savage fury as a Legion Banshee stepped on the cockpit of a downed Guillotine IIC, crushing the pilot.


"Omnis!" cried one of her 'Mech pilots, trilling lasers in the background, "Falcon Omnis hitting us from the wes-" The signal cut out, and Juliette swore, even as her PPCs savaged a dodging Falcon medium.


"Legionaries! Wheel!" she ordered, and in practiced efficiency, the black-coated 'Mechs of the Legion lurched to obey her command.


***

SaKhan Vandervhan Chistu swore viciously as he strode in his Warhawk towards the Docks, where the Spheroid attackers had landed. The day had started out well, all things considered: while the massive, brutal onslaught of the Federated Commonwealth upon the Jade Falcon Liberation Zone had been a shock to the system, especially an invasion by the thrice-accursed Dragoons upon Sudeten itself. Still, he had rallied, gathered the remains of the planet's defending Clusters to the Island where the backup command centre was located, protected by heavy weapons and fortifications. Fortunately, the Dragoons and their freebirth allies were savaged by the fighting as well, and this had given Chistu the chance to use the Island's HPG to contact other units and redirect them towards Sudeten. The planet's central and strategic location made it a perfect rally point, and he had already managed to order three fractured Clusters and two WarShips to join him, as well as a fresh Cluster, escorted by a Falcon Aegis, direct from the Homeworlds with the latest in Clan weapons and warriors.


But this blasted attack was frustrating matters: bad enough that the traitor Wolf had demanded his surrender - as though that were a possibility! - but now nameless lucre-warriors were sent to vex him. The incompetence of his subordinates had allowed them to land on the Island, so it was up to him and his personal forces to deal with the invaders. Fifteen heavy and assault OmniMechs should be enough to shatter this little band of thugs.


Even as his Trinary approached the fighting, marching around heavily reinforced buildings, he overheard the radio chatter from the other Falcon leaders.


"Connor! Get that stravag Zeus before -"


"- they are ignoring zelbrigen! Honorless freebirths, they -"


"Well, return the favor! Concentrate your fire on -"


"Neg, you cretin: my warriors are not trained for such gutter tactics! Star Commander Fuller, on your eight! I -"


Cursing into his neurohelmet, Chistu stepped around the last corner, and faced the madness.


Black painted Battlemechs and tanks were slugging it out with green painted Clan 'Mechs at point blank range. This was not the elegant ballet of destruction that the Jade Falcons preferred, dancing about their opponents with deadly precision, using their speed and range advantage to tear them apart: this was brutal, uncompromising, savage. His jaw dropped as he witnessed a Charger and a Grasshopper grip the arms of a solhama 'Mech, so that a Spheroid Axeman could slam its titular hatchet into the green 'Mech's cockpit. Elsewhere, a Warhammer, Flashman and Penetrator trio bracketed a Hunchback IIC that appeared to have expended its autocannon ammunition, the medium 'Mech virtually disintegrated under a barrage of energy weapon fire.


True, the Falcon defenders were giving as good as they were receiving: after all, Clan weapons were still vastly superior, being more accurate, more heat efficient, deadlier ton-for-ton, and Clan armor was more protective. Many spheroid 'Mechs were already crippled or destroyed, and many others showed clear battle damage. Yet the fighting was more vicious and close than any the Falcon saKhan had seen since Tukkayyid, and even the way the attackers were panted black reminded him of the pristine white of the Com Guards.


In the back of his mind, something about the black-painted 'Mechs tugged at his brain, something about a brutal raiding force that struck at isolated garrisons and units, but he forced himself to concentrate as he opened a channel. "Who dares attack the Falcon? Who brings doom upon -" he cut off as something grabbed the ankle of his Warhawk, and he looked down to be stunned by the black Caesar, it's legs blown off and one arm removed, scrabbling at his Omni's leg. The sheer stubborn desire to fight, to struggle to simply annoy him was surprising, and he took a moment to lower two ER PPCs and send bolts of charged particles to vaporize the offending 'Mech's cockpit and pilot. "Who brings doom upon themselves in this way?"


The comm channel crackled, and while the voice was of a young woman, the words send icy shivers down his spine: he had heard them before, many years ago. "I, the Baroness of Strang, care not for your new names." Horror and rage fought within him at the sheer gall at someone claiming that name and title. "Clans? Jade Falcons? I call you by your true name: Scum of the Star League, traitors of free will, persecutors of the Periphery come back to lord it over freedom-loving people. Come ahead, you steel-eyed robots! Come ahead and taste what a million-like-minded people think of you and your damn Clans!"


From the melee came a massive, blocky Devastator, deep rents in its armor but still standing tall. No markings relieved the dark paint over the metal, but Chistu knew that this was the bandit's leader. "You killed my father. Stole my world. Murdered my people."


From cover, an infantryman in Clan fatigues rushed the mercenary, raising a shoulder mounted SRM launcher. Without breaking stride, the hundred ton 'Mech stepped on the unfortunate solhama trooper, leaving little but a bloodstain and twisted metal. "I come to return the favor."


***


Jaime Wolf settled his neurohelmet on his shoulders as the Overlord-C class Dropship around him shuddered in flight. It had taken hours to scrape together a full Cluster of 45 'Mechs, the heaviest, freshest and most battle ready he had available, and it may already have been too late: the scattered reports from the fighting suggested that casualties among the Legion were high, and there was no guarantee that any would still be alive when his scratch troop arrived. Still, intelligence suggested that enough missile and cannon batteries had been neutralized to allow a DropShip to insert his force onto the island, and he planned to take advantage of that fact to wipe out the Falcon defenders once and for all.


"... don't know why we're doing this: it's the fucking von Strang bitch! The fucking Vampire!" he overheard over the general channel. He knew exactly who it was but chose not to interfere: the legacy of the von Strang name was well earned, even centuries after the Coup, and he understood the sentiment. Still, it wasn't the first time he had had to fight alongside someone he disliked. Luthien, for example ...


Instead, he cleared his throat. "In ages past, cities would be surrounded by high, thick walls of brick or stone. Cannon - not autocannon, but muzzle loading tubes of bronze or iron - would be used to batter a hole in the wall. Then the call would be sent out for volunteers ... volunteers for the forlorn hope.


"The forlorn hope were sent in to force the breech, to drive back the defenders, to clear away obstacles, to provide a gap for the main force to push through into the city. It was brutal, hand-to-hand fighting, and the casualties were, understandably, high. The name, after all, proclaimed one’s chances of survival: slim to none.


"Nevertheless, whenever the call went up, there were always those among the attackers who would volunteer to join the forlorn hope, because while they may die, if they survived, they would be guaranteed fame, glory, wealth and promotion. For in taking such a gamble, for risking everything and braving such danger, they demonstrated their courage and dedication, and in doing so, saved the lives of those who would follow."


For a moment, the channel was silent, as almost four dozen Mechwarriors waited for their commander to continue: the only sound was the roar of the DropShip's engines and the hiss of the environmental systems.


"That is what the Legion is doing today. They are the forlorn hope. We follow in their footsteps, and whatever happens, no matter what we may think of them, we will recognize their courage and dedication."


He closed his microphone, and leant back in his command chair, closing his eyes as he prepared himself. For the most part, his men accepted his words. Still, one wiseass just had to get the last word in.


"Courage? More like sheer bloodthirst. Fucking vampire ..."


***


Chistu grunted as he came too, as he was dragged over a chunk of rubble. He opened his eyes, groaning as he looked up at the burly infantryman in black fatigues, ballistic plate vest and helmet who had a firm grip on his cooling vest. Pieces of ferrocrete and splinters of armor plating scraped and tore at his bare limbs, and he could feel the rumble and thud of continuing battle in the distance: the war for Sudeten was not yet over.


Still, even as he shook his head to clear it, he was hauled up and then tossed to the ground, next to a fallen war machine. Forcing himself up on his forearms, he looked up to stare up at a young, red haired woman wearing a black cooling suit, resting her butt on the severed hand of a 'Mech like a throne. She glared disdainfully at him as her hands played with a long, thin strand of myomer. That awful, familiar and hateful voice flowed from her mouth: "Don't bother getting up, creature: this won't take long." Around him stood a circle of soldiers, infantry and dismounted Mechwarriors and tankers, all glaring daggers at him.


Again, the ageing Clansman struggled to concentrate. Last thing he remembered was fighting von Strang, his Warhawk against her Devastator. The infamy of having a 'Mech designed by the Great Kerensky himself being piloted by the spawn of the Vampire had been infuriating, but the pirate was deceptively nimble and skilled: despite being in a lighter, faster Omni Mech, the battle had been fierce ... the details faded as fast as he grasped at them, his head pounding in neural feedback, likely from an ammunition explosion.


"My father was never confused or deceived by your pretense and false names: he knew who you were the moment you arrived in our home system," she continued. "Yet even he failed to perceive just how low you had fallen, out there in the Dark. What madness drove you to abandon your humanity, I cannot comprehend, and choose not to even try. When an invasive species infests one's biosphere, you do not try to reason with it: you break out the pesticide." Her hands jerked decisively, and his dazed mind finally recognized what she had been fashioning.


A noose.


Even as she tossed the coil to one of her thugs, who threw one end over a nearby section of broken 'Mech to create a crude gallows, he gabbled in horror, shaking his head in denial as the fiber was slipped over his head, fighting feebly against the strong pirates who held him fast. "I ... I ... I AM JADE FALCON!" he finally forced out of his lips.


She smiled at him, baring sharpened fangs that belonged in no human mouth. "I know. That is why you are about to die."


***


Despite her bravado, Juliette did her best to hide her shaking as a team of her men gripped the rope, ready to haul the Falcon khan into the air. Father, I know this is not the man who killed you, not their pestilent leader, but he is that murderer's second, his right hand. Until I have my hands on Critchell, he will have to do.


The thud of a stamping 'Mech drew her attention away from the impending lynching, and she blinked as she looked up at the blue and gold Archer that strode towards her little gathering. The exterior speakers crackled. "Colonel von Strang: stand down!"


Fury rose in her. "Back off, Wolf!" she cried, and noted out of the corner of her eye as the Falcon scrabbled at the noose, trying to loosen it. Should have tied his hands. Oh well. "This is my operation! My assault! My justice!"


"It is murder," Wolf rejoined, coming to a halt, the ground shaking beneath seventy tons of war engine.


"Yes, I know! It is! And well earned!" she insisted. Raising a hand, she called out, "Haul away, boys!"


"No!" shouted Wolf, but her Legionnaires obeyed her, and put their backs into it, pulling on the rope and raising Chistu into the air by his neck.


Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on one's perspective) the Tanker's neck failed to snap, and his eyes bulged out as he fought to force his fingers beneath the corded pseudo-muscle wrapped around his throat. Taking in the glorious sight of the penultimate leader of her mortal foe slowly strangling to death, she barely noticed the Dragoon clambering down a rope from his 'Mech's cockpit. One of her men moved to intercept him, but the ageing mercenary shoved him aside. "You cannot do this!" he stated.


She glanced over at him, taking in his greying hair and slight build, barely taller than her own. "I can, I will, I must!" She turned back to the hanging, fury fighting with satisfaction within her. "You turned down this battle, Wolf: you could have fought here, bled here, died here, like so many of my Legionnaires! My Kindred, my Forsaken, my Damned. You lost all right to decide who lives and who dies! That right is mine!"


"And when the Archon hears that you murdered this man in cold blood? Not killed him in battle, but lynching him like a common pirate?"


"He is a common pirate!" she cried, turning to face Wolf again. "You just want to save the life of a fellow Tanker, Wolf! Beasts run together, honor among thieves and murderers -"


"Girl, I have hated the Falcons longer than you've been alive!" he shouted, gripping her shoulder through her suit's padding. Furious, an infantryman raised his Blazer rifle, but she waved him back. "I have lost my father to the Falcons, my brother to the Eagle, my friend to the Dragon. I have walked the path of vengeance and blood feud, and it has cost me, and it is costing me still!"


"I am willing to pay!" Juliette shouted back, her voice breaking as her eyes started to tear up.


"And your men? Your Legion? Your world? I know Hanse, I know Melissa ... fuck, I know Victor! Whatever your bargain with them, if you take this life in this manner, they will wash their hands of you! Do you want this all to have been for nothing?"


Tears flowing down her face, she glared up at the kicking, twitching Chistu, whose face was turning purple as he glared down at her. "They murdered my father!" she wailed.


"I know, girl," whispered the legend, whom she had admired for years before learning of his heritage. "And he will pay for his crimes against your world, and a hundred more ... but not like this!"


Her heart tearing in two, her grief raging against her hope, she screamed wordlessly against the universe ... and then raised her hand and chopped it down. Obediently, her men let go of the rope, and the Falcon fell to the ground with a crunch, moaning in agony as one leg snapped against the ground. She took a little solace in that as she sank to one knee, even as Wolf crouched next to her, his hand still gripping her shoulder, while her warriors looked on in shock and surprise.


"Father," she whispered in a small voice, and for once, the indefatigable, indomitable and relentless mercenary they called the Vampire wept, even as the battle for the Falcon's capital in the Inner Sphere ground to a halt, comforted by an old freebirth as her loyal men stood guard, and a hated foe whimpered in fear and pain.

**

As the sun set, Jaime Wolf found Juliette von Strang standing on the roof of a building, watching as DropShips landed and took off, transporting troops, wounded, booty and supplies. She didn't look up as he approached, and just fiddled with a small chip between her fingers. The part of Wolf that was born in Clan space shuddered at her possession of a khan's codex chip, but the seasoned mercenary in him just shrugged. "Your butcher's bill?"


A flaring of the nostrils was her only sign of distress. "Significant. Twenty-three 'Mech pilots dead, sixty two machines out of commission: we may be able to salvage a dozen of those. Nine tanks and crews lost, and forty-seven infantry dead. Many more are wounded." She smiled tightly. "No aerospace personnel or machines lost, bar minor armor damage and expended munitions, so that's something. As it is, my Legion will be some time rebuilding ... if the war allows us that luxury."


He nodded. "I recall a similar time, long before you were born."


"Misery," she noted, and he grunted. "My losses must seem paltry in comparison to your casualties on that world."


"Perhaps, but that was over weeks. You suffered yours in under six hours." He paused. "'Believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won.'"


"Arthur Wellesley. I prefer his opponent: 'Between a battle lost and a battle won, the distance is immense ... and there stand empires.'"


"Boney had a way with words on occasion," admitted Wolf.


The two colonels, one young and female, the other elderly and male, stood in companionable silence for a time, before Juliette spoke again. "I know I can trust my men, but I would appreciate it if you could ... see your way clear to forgetting today's events. Regarding the khan."


Wolf bowed his head. "Of course." He paused. "I believe, in time, you would have regretted -"


She snorted in a most unladylike fashion. "Wolf, I could kill them all, burn their empire to the ground and dance on their ashes. No, this is fitting: let him be their Vercingetorix: a living trophy to parade in front of the crowds. Let him live in misery and humiliation, proof of his people's defeat until shame takes him or they grow weary of him. Less immediately satisfying, of course, but perhaps more so in the long run." Then she glanced over at him. "But this campaign is under the Commonwealth flag, under their rules of engagement. When I retake my home world ... I assure you, the flag I fly shall be black as night.


"No mercy. No quarter. No exceptions."

_____________________________________

FLASH FLASH FLASH


NCA NEW AVALON AND HIS FAMILY HAVE BEEN THE VICTIM OF A TERRORIST ATTACK ON NEW AVALON ON 11 OCTOBER, 3056. GALAHAD AND GUENIVERE ARE CONFIRMED KIA. DURAN IS WIA. PROGNOSIS IS IN DOUBT. LE FAY IS NOW NCA. RPT, LE FAY IS NOW NCA. NATURE OF ATTACK IS THOUGHT TO BE CAPELLAN-STATE SPONSORED, RPT CAPELLAN STATE-SPONSORED.


HUNTRESS ORDERS THAT ALL UNITS MAINTAIN CURRENT OPERATIONS AS PER PLAN


PLEASE INFORM YOUR SUBORDINATE COMMANDERS OF EVENTS AND PROCEED ACCORDINGLY.


POULIN


END MSG


FLASH FLASH FLASH

Flash Transmission sent out to all commands involved in Clover Spear, 23 October, 3056 informing them of the attack on New Avalon. Message was declassified after Information Act request made by DBC on 31 January, 3061.

I may do an aerofighter scene or two in the near future. As for maps, I had Davout work up some, but he kinda had RL hit him ij the arse.

As for VSL, it is a creation of Gladiusone, and the story of them on Sudeten was written by him.

There is still a bit more story to post to catch you all up with the main storyline, not to mention Yellowhammer's excellent Omake "The Flight of Omi Kurita".

AN: The next three chapters are a Omake done by Yellowhammer of Spacebattles. He wanted to write about the fate of Omi Kurita. How in the world could I say no? I now present "The Flight of Omi Kurita"

Imperial City

Luthien

October 7th, 3056, 1100 Hours

Omiko Kurita knelt before her low writing desk and concentrated on the blank white sheet of mulberry paper in front of her as she breathed in and out to center herself. With slow, formal motions she tied the sleeve of her kimono back as her breathing fell into a steady pace. The embroidery of lotus flowers along the hem drew a secret smile for an instant at the multiple meanings of the flower that never reached her face then was gone for an instant as she picked up her inkstick and ground a small quantity of ink into the stone.

Finally one with what she meant to write, her brush dipped into the ink and glided across the paper. The polite cough of her door guard did not register until she lowered the brush to reveal a hand drawn cherry blossom next to her signature.

"Kurita-sama, there is a summons from the Dragon. It is of some urgency."

Omi stood and untied her sleeve, letting it hang free.. "So ka." Questions raced behind her calm face, yet she let nothing show as she carefully folded the drawing and then walked to the door.

Outside a familiar Afro-Asian woman waited in the black uniform of the Otomo, adorned only with the blue katakana of her rank and the Dragon set upon a gold shield showing her status as a bodyguard. She bowed to Omi, who in turn bowed slightly less in acknowledgement. "As summoned, so I obey the Dragon's will, Tai-i Tetsuhara."

Tetsuhara nodded once, and gestured. "Follow me, Kurita-sama"

Omi's heart skipped a beat as instead of heading to the parts of the palace where the Pillars of Ivory, Gold, Jade, or Teak held sway, instead she approached the security checkpoint for the command center. The Pillar of Steel, the heart of the Draconis Combine Mustered Soldiery.

After submitting to fingerprints and retina scan along with a search of her person for weapons and transmitters, the armored door opened for her and she entered at Tetsuhara's gesture. Inside, the atmosphere was visibly tense.

The room was dominated by a large holotank in the center currently showing Luthien's star system from a point centered on the planet. Most of the icons burned different shades of warm crimson with arcane codes that Omi only vaguely understood from speaking to her father, mother, and brothers rather than formal training. However, one set of icons appeared as white arrows pointing toward the planet from a pirate point as if a shinigami had fired a volley of them at a target fated to die.

At the far end of the room her father stood in consultation with several other officers, dominating the room with his presence despite his unadorned uniform. Unlike the other officers visibly showing tension in their posture and faces, Theodore was instead radiating quiet confidence, but his eyes were unreadable. The conversation ended and he gestured for Omi to approach.

"Coordinator Kurita-dono. Your servant awaits the will of the Coordinator." Her voice was controlled but she felt as if it was someone else speaking in her place.

She bowed low before her father-no the Dragon-as the room stilled then Theodore's lips quirked in the ghost of a smile as he spoke confidently. "Keeper of the House Honor. It seems that the Jaguars in their arrogance seek to face the Dragon's Claws once more. How kind of them to send him their pelts to keep us warm this winter! We shall prepare a warm reception for such unexpected and generous guests, my samurai. Walk with me for a moment."

Omi nodded, unwilling to risk her voice betraying her as her father escorted her to a writing desk prepared for him. For a moment he contemplated the blank white paper and then his brush moved across the paper with a fluidity and sureness at odds with his normally 'adequate' calligraphy. Omi's eyes burned with unshed tears as she read the characters of the poem he wrote as they took shape before her. "I leap from the depths/Of duty into the skies:/Autumn of the Dragon." A death haiku..the image of the Dragon at the end of its life ascending to the skies in a great pillar of clouds and rain...oh Father.

As Theodore finished and signed the poem with both his name and the circle representing enlightenment, a low stir ran through the room and conversation resumed. He leaned close to Omi and spoke quietly. "Our duty is clear, Omi-chan. See your brother, for time is short for us all."

She bowed her head and whispered back. "Hai, Otousan. I shall make you proud."

"You always did, Omi-chan. You always did."

With that he stood and walked back to speak to his staff. Omi watched him go then carefully folded the paper inscribed with her father's death poem before walking to her brother. She could see the pain in his eyes mirroring what she felt in her heart as she bowed her head. "Brother. The situation is that dire?"

He swallowed once, then handed over his own poem. "The Jaguars are coming with a force equal to last time. We shall fight them with our strength, but even the mightiest warrior will have trouble with many." His eyes searched hers as she nodded sadly.

"I understand. I shall take the Lady Fiona with me as a chaperone on my travels, it is not proper for one such as I to travel unescorted."

Hohiro nodded, some tension leaving him at the mention of the noblewoman that he had fallen in love with. "Indeed, Chu-sa Yodama awaits at the spaceport with your ship. Tell...he who you go to meet. Tell him that...." Hohiro's voice trailed off as he struggled for words.

Omi smiled wistfully. "He knows that you shall be present in spirit. Perhaps I shall get married in spring under the cherry blossoms, neh?" With that she handed him her own drawing of a cherry blossom. Hohiro took it and nodded sharply before the siblings exchanged bows of farewell.

"Sayonara."


Imperial City

Luthien

October 7th, 3056, 1214 Hours

For a house that will endure
one thousand years carve its beams from honor.

Haiku by Coordinator Siriwan McAllister-Kurita 2579

Omi walked through the halls of the Imperial Palace with a purposeful gait, her steely-blue eyes narrowed slightly in an expression that she had learned from her father's example. Rounding the corner, she came to an ornately carved teak door decorated with the Dragon insignia of House Kurita and guarded by a trio of Pillarine monks in their hooded brown robes. The clack of wood on wood sounded as two of the monks crossed their staves to halt her passage.

She halted, locking her eyes with the eyes of the third under the black armorplast visor that the monks wore to cover their faces. For long moments the corridor was silent, the four of them standing like statues before the monk bowed formally and the others returned to their guard position.

"Guard me on the path that I must walk now, Adept Gozen." Omi commanded in a very controlled voice. "Let no one enter the Sanctum until I am finished here."

The whisper of ballistic polymer fabric was her answer as the silent sentinels bowed in obedience to the command of the Keeper of House Honor and head of the Order of the Five Pillars. The door opened soundlessly, then closed behind Omi and Gozen as they entered the Sanctum Arcanum.

Inside the air was thick with incense and tradition. The room was dimly lit by indirect lighting from hanging braziers, each one shaped in the form of the Dragon wrapped around a pearl. Fragrant smoke issued from the nostrils and mouths of the symbols of the Combine as Omi walked beneath them then halted at the foot of a low platform that reached her knees and was covered by a Persian-style Azami carpet showing an ornate Oriental dragon . To either side of her knelt two more Pillarine monks on their heels in positions of deep meditation and guard. However Omi's focus was not on them, but what lay ahead.

The platform was dominated by a circle of five massive ivory pillars mounted in masterwork gold bases and capitals. Omi's eyes flickered first to the leftmost one from her perspective, a column as clear as glass from a hippopotamus on Thimphu. She knew that if struck with steel it would give off sparks, so hard and rigid it was. So too, was the honor codes that bound her in this endeavor.

The one behind it was a stark contrast, mottled brown, rough and unfinished...one of a pair of elephant tusks from distant Terra from a kill that Urizen Kurita I had made on humanity's home world in the days of the Star league. Just like the Combine's citizens, it was waiting the hand of a sculptor to guide it to a finished state.

Omi's eyes then flicked to the near one on the right. The matching tusk to the unfinished one, it had been carved into a pillar supporting the roof, both strong and flexible, it showed her that the code could adapt and change to handle circumstances like those that she-and the Combine-were faced with. Behind it was a vivid turquoise blue column formed from the ivory of a woolly mammoth from distant Terra which had leeched metallic salts into the ivory from it's resting place in humanity's home world to give such a striking color.

Finally the last column was a spiraling Asian dragon rising to the ceiling carved from the horn of the extinct Giant Narwhal of Labrea. None of those were the focus of Omi's attention, however.

That was the simple black lacquered sword stand resting in the exact center of the room. The katana there was ancient, with chips taken out of the blade from the clash of steel and the etching that the salt of blood had scored into the patterned steel forged by the hands of a master on her family's ancestral home of New Samarkand. Omi reverently approached the sword, then knelt with a whisper of fabric from her robes, prostrating her head onto the carpet before the sword carried by Shiro Kurita.

The First Egg. The Founder of House Kurita. The First Coordinator. Her Ancestor. The warlord who with cunning, blood, and steel had unified his planet, then raised his Dragon banner across the stars. The example that all the Sons and Daughters of the Dragon strove to model themselves after.

The immortal whose sword, whose soul, was now threatened by the barbarians storming the Black Pearl of the Combine. Omi clapped once to summon his spirit as she sank back from her prostration to rest her weight on her heels and knees. Beneath her the dragon on the tapestry writhed in the lighting as she drew breath.

Her reverent whisper filled the echoing silence of the room. "Kurita Shiro-dono, your child brings news. The Jaguars attack us now, and the Coordinator in his wisdom has decreed that even if Luthien falls, our Honor shall yet remain untainted by their unworthy hands. He has entrusted me to carry you to my brother Minoru Kurita so that your spirit may guide him as he rallies our forces from the Galedon District...if such is necessary in these evil times."

Silence filled the room after Omi's words, then the whispered hiss of oiled steel on bamboo ending in a click as the tsuba hand guard met the mouth of the scabbard. Another whisper of silk as the sheathed sword was placed in a black silk bag hand-embroidered with five dragons writhing around each other. Ivory white, steel-gray, jade green, teak-brown, and thread of gold flashed as they all chased each other endlessly to represent the Five Pillars of the Combine: Religion, Military, Economy, Culture, and Government.

The first part of her duty done, Omi turned and walked from the Sanctum Arcanum with a slow, dignified stride ahead of the monk guarding her. The other Pillarine monks prostrated themselves as she passed them, her spine straight and face calm and reverent, reflecting none of her thoughts at the duty assigned to her by the Coordinator, no, her doomed father.

After all, she was Kurita, as he was. For both of them, duty was heavier than mountains.
 

Dropship DCA Shigure

Outbound to Luthien V L1 Pirate Point

Luthien

October 11th, 3056

To all appearances, the Shigure was nothing special. A humble Mule, she and thousands of her sisters could be seen transporting cargo and passengers along the space lanes of the inner Sphere. Perhaps a little more battered and worn than most, she was also proof of the saying that appearances were deceiving.

Behind a false bulkhead in the #1 Fuel Tank, a hidden compartment contained the best ELINT gear that the Combine could manufacture, buy, or steal. Likewise, her transponder had been subtly altered to broadcast a variety of different identities upon request. FSS Wildfire, LCS Niederbayern, CCS Tan Yang, and a double dozen more were identities that she had carried across the Inner Sphere for her actual masters in the ISF. While her stock in trade had been to be the all-seeing eye of the Combine, listening and watching for scraps of information, she had over the decades also engaged in other actions. Delivery and pickup of agents and even DEST commando teams were not uncommon, along with smuggling proscribed items of technology to serve the Dragon.

Now she served the needs of the Dragon once more as the transport for a princess fleeing her homeworld. One of dozens of dropships that had left the planet ahead of the battle, she was broadcasting a routine flight plan to the asteroid mining facilities in the outer system to pick up a load of refined ore for Luthien's hungry industries.

Omiko Kurita grasped the welded bar above the hatch at the top of the ladder that she had climbed and used it to swing into the small compartment feet first. Unlike her time in court, she was in plain tan shipboard coveralls marked with the insignia of a junior assistant navigator and the stenciled name 'A. Nakamura'. The bass rumble of the fusion drive sending her away from her homeworld and toward the Jumpship that had been hastily called to transport her deeper into the Combine faded to a dull roar as she then closed and locked the hatch down inexpertly.

The man strapped into the seat in the small lounge bowed to her from where he had been cleaning a Mauser & Gray Flechette Pistol on the holotable set into the deck. Like her he was dressed in shipboard coveralls with the sleeves rolled up, showing his heavily tattooed forearms. He gave her an inquisitive look as she returned the bow before sliding into the seat opposite him and buckling herself in.

"How is Lady Fiona handling the demands of the trip?"

Omi sighed. "Sleeping now, with the aid of a mild sedative that the doctor provided. She cried herself to sleep when she learned that Hohiro had confided to me in private that he planned to ask her father for her hand in marriage at the Autumn Full-Moon Festival. Inconsiderate and uncourteous of the Jaguars to interrupt my brother's happiness, neh?"

Shin Yodama nodded slowly in turn as he continued to work on his firearm. "Quite. Quite. He had expressed some admiration of her to me in private. Now...for them is is only the teahouse on the slopes of Death Mountain that awaits their love."

Omi gave a very sad smile as she quoted from the death poem that her brother had passed her at their leave taking, her eyes gelaming with unshed tears. "Surely there's a teahouse/with a view of plum trees/on the Mountain of Death, too. At least she has some comfort from those words in her grief. I admire his use of the plum blossom in it as a reference to the mon of her family's company. Quite artistic of him, not that I would have admitted it to him growing up. Oniisan was insufferable enough at the time, or so it seemed to me when he taught me the basics of poetry as a young girl."

Yodama gave a deep sigh as he spoke in turn. "When I first met him, I was concerned that someone of his youth as a Sho-sa commanding me would be giving orders based on flower arrangement or similar pursuits. A failing of mine, for the blood of the Dragon flows true in him, as it does in you. Now I follow my orders from him to keep you safe on your travels until he relieves me. Wherever they may take us." He cocked an eyebrow at her in silent inquiry.

Omi gave a nod of acknowledgement in return as she spoke in a voice full of fatigue. "First to Benjamin, my brother Minoru will meet us there. Father sent messages to Warlord Dieron to release him from his service obligation and provide him transport from his posting on Dieron. Once I discharge my sworn duty to the House...."

Omi's voice trailed off and she looked distant, biting her lip absently before speaking once more in a hushed voice. "Once I transport what I carry to Minoru and take counsel with him, Father recommended that I find a safe haven to continue the bloodline. We may fall but the Dragon must endure to fulfill our destiny. Father in his wisdom made arrangements with the Fox to give me sanctuary on New Avalon if needed. If Luthien falls and with the increased activities of...disloyal elements opposed to what I plan to do...I shall make my way to the Suns. Far better that way than to be a brood mare for the Black Dragon Society's intrigues."

Shin Yodama's jaw dropped as he stared at the clearly nervous girl across from him as she lowered her head to stare at her hands. He had observed the clear bond between her and the blond-headed Archon Prince on Outreach, but to think that she would leave her homeland willingly....

He then collected his thoughts, using the familiar routine of assembling the pistol to provide a framework as his hands automatically moved. "Well, Tai-sa Kurita's orders were very specific and unambiguous. I am to keep "my little sister"-his exact words-safe and assist her in her travels. I shall need to speak to some 'acquaintances' in the Kuromaku-gumi who have a trading license when we arrive on Benjamin, but I am certain that something can be arranged for travel across the border. More trade happens there than one may expect at first glance. Sho-sa Galen Cox was the person who introduced me to Tharkad Hefelweisen, and it would be discourteous not to thank him for such sage advice, no? I also feel disinclined to disturb the Bureau of Interstellar Trade with such a minor matter in their greater concerns."

Omi's smile at his words and the message behind them lit up her face. "Indeed not. I also shall have certain funds available to me as needed to arrange for matters to be handled swiftly and discreetly by your 'acquaintances'. I bow to your expertise in such matters, save to say such friends such as those you mention should be richly rewarded for their assistance. My brother trusted his life to you, and my father trusted his plan to defend Luthien to you, I shall trust my happiness to you in turn."

Omi's words were cut short by the warning chime of the intercom.

The voice of the sensor officer spoke without preamble. "We have received a transmission from Luthien that you may wish to observe. Channel three"

Shin punched in the command and an image formed. Theodore Kurita was there in military dress uniform, flanked by his wife Tomoe, son Hohiro and daughter Omi as he stood on the reviewing stand overlooking the Sanethia Kurita Parade Grounds. Rank upon rank of Battlemechs stood behind him painted the scarlet of the Sword of Light and the midnight black of the Otomo and Genyosha as he raised a hand.

"People of Luthien! I bring news of victory! The cowardly Smoke Jaguar warship that bombarded Skytower City yesterday in an act of barbarity is no more! My Samurai have struck it from the sky and the degenerate mewling kittens crewing it burn in the Dragon's Breath! The honorless barbarians that attack us have yet to challenge us, perhaps they are afraid of defeat once more, no? Take heart, support your children, siblings, neighbors, and parents who serve as my samurai, and with unified heart we shall cleanse the stain of Kerensky's degenerate descendants from our just dominion!"

The transmission froze on the Coordinator lifting his right fist, mirrored by the ranks of Battlemechs raising their right arms in salute. Shin Yodama looked a question at Omi, who spoke with quiet pride in her voice. "Chu-i Mariko Ishikawa, from the 40th Dieron Regulars, has a remarkable resemblance to me. When asked to serve as a body double for me, she volunteered to be transferred from her regiment to 'special duty'. The Bureau of Substitution agreed with her request and the ISF cleared her after a rigorous loyalty check and some minor cosmetic surgeries. I have spoken with her a few times, and swore to her that I would strive to be worthy of all that she is sacrificing for me."


Nadir Recharge Station

Benjamin, Benjamin District

October 19th, 3056

The light above the hatchway turned green and Omi swam out onto the passenger concourse in the microgravity of the Olympus space station. Dressed in plain shipboard coveralls and with a tethered soft bag floating behind her wrist, she was the image of another anonymous crew member as she approached the security checkpoint where a quartet of Friendly Persuaders waited in their distinctive red and white striped uniforms. She took a deep breath as she paused, noticing the unholstered stunner one carried and the riot shotgun not quite pointed at her by another as she presented her credentials.

"Identify yourself."

Omi suppressed her feelings of disquiet as she fed her DCMS-issue identity card into the offered reader. While the crew of the Shigure had used the equipment on board to forge her a set of papers, this was the first time that they would be tested. "Petty Officer Nakamura Ami, currently traveling on orders from the Draconis Combine Admiralty."

"Purpose for travel to Benjamin?"

"I am here to meet my brother to honor his new posting before I travel to Proserpina to get married, Persuader-sama." A lesson from Shin Yodama during the interminable series of jumps as the Shigure made its way from dying Luthien. Use the truth to lie.

"Proceed."

Omi bowed her head as she retrieved her papers, and then proceeded through the checkpoint, waiting on the other side so Shin Yodama could clear it. The ex-yakuza looked at her. "Where should we meet?"

Omi scanned the directory of services available on the large grav-deck of the station and gave a small smile. "Once you speak to your acquaintances, make your way to Benzaiten's Ivories. They will have a meeting area that we can use."

"Hai." With that, he nodded to her and proceeded toward an area of the station marked with bright-almost garish-lighting advertising the delights found within. Omi shook her head minutely as she remembered a conversation from two days ago where she had raised the possibility of assisting Yodama in his travel negotiations. He had stared at her, laughed briefly, and then said that it would be a race between her brother's ghost and Victor to see who throttled him first for subjecting someone like her to the underbelly of Combine life.

With that, she took a deep breath and slid out a smartphone from her bag. Tapping in a number from memory, she bit her lip as she listened to the dial tone. Finally there was a click.

"Moshi moshi?"

"Minoru, it's your Oneesan. I am waiting at gate ten. Could you send your aide to pick Ami Nakamura up? I have matters that I must discuss with you in person." She took a deep breath. "Remeber the time that Mother caught us using her kitchen without permission to make dango when I was eight?"

There was an indrawing of breath on the other end of the line. "I...see. I shall make arrangements. Gate ten then and Ami Nakamura. Sayonara."

Omi turned off the phone after locking it and took a seat as she concentrated on the ebb and flow of people. Red-and white striped Friendly Persuaders patrolling to deter criminals and vagrants; tan-uniformed DCMS personnel crewing the station; a dark-skinned Azami patriarch shepherding his burqua clad female relatives all passed before her as she immersed herself in the movements of society to find the inner peace that she so desperately needed.

Finally the crowd resolved into a stocky silver-haired man dressed in DCMS uniform with a wrinkled almond skin color that made Omi think of nothing so much as a hazelnut. He bowed to her. "Nakamura-sama?"

She stood and returned the bow, her eyes tracking automatically to the stylized katakana '5' in lavender on the brown backing of his rank tabs. "Hai, Shujin-sama. I am she." Even if she was a Kurita and he was merely a lowly master sergeant from the infantry, such a man was worthy of her respect as a warrior. While her grandfather may not have approved, her father had taught Omi otherwise.

His dark eyes scanned her...looking for what? Finally he grunted, "Follow me please." With that, he gestured brusquely and turned in an automatic about-face.

Omi hefted the bag containing the katana and followed him, reassured by his solidity. He was a rock, and the Combine would have need of such in these troubled times.

Ten minutes and two security checkpoints later, the Shujin tapped an intercom panel next to a guarded hatch. "Sir, she is here."

A voice sounded from within. "Then show her in!" The hatch then opened and Omi stepped inside.

Beyond it, two familiar faces sat in conversation. Her younger brother-had he grown since Omi had seen him off to Sun Tsu School of Combat five years ago?-turned, his eyes examining her and pausing at the bag she carried. Though slight in form, barely filling out the DCMS uniform that he wore with understated pride, he dominated the room with his quiet strength of presence. Next to him, her father's cousin had his eyes widen as he saw her, the apple-green katakana with the gold bar showing his rank as Warlord of Dieron District flashing in the lights.

Omi bowed deeply and took a deep breath. Her voice was tightly controlled, drained of all emotion. As much as the words she had to say would tear at her wounded heart, she was Kurita, and would not dishonor her father and brother's sacrifice in this moment. "Tai-shu Kurita Isoroku-sama, Chu-i Kurita Minoru-sama. I come bearing news. Luthien has fallen to the Smoke Jaguars and the Coordinator is now with his ancestors."

Naked shock appeared for a moment on both faces before iron discipline reasserted itself. Isoruku was the first to respond as he narrowed his eyes. "Then my nephew Hohiro...?" His voice was hoarse with emotion as he spoke despite his decades of service to the Dragon.

Omi lowered her head in respect for the dead before speaking in that controlled voice despite her burning eyes. "He died with his face to the enemy. Father was in the Palace commanding our troops when the Jaguars sent a headhunter unit to attack. During the confusion after he died, major elements of their 'Mech forces broke through and made their way into the Kado-Guchi valley. Chu-sa Kur---" Her voice broke and she swallowed before resuming in a sadly proud voice. "Hohiro led the remnants of the Black Ocean to halt their advance, and when he was being overrun called for a nuclear strike on his position."

Minoru stood and walked over to hug his sister as tears streamed down their cheeks. "Then I must rally us and get vengeance. Our blood cries out for it."

Omi nodded sadly after their tears had ceased and unzipped the bag. "Indeed. All is not lost, for Father in his wisdom ordered me to carry the heart of the Dragon to the next Coordinator."

Steel flashed in the light as she unsheathed the sword of Shiro Kurita. Isoruku's eyes widened and he prostrated himself as Omi knelt to offer the ancient blade to her brother. Minoru's face was unreadable as he looked down at the blade that she offered.

"Kurita Minoru-dono, son of Coordinator Kurita Theodore-dono, grandson of Coordinator Kurita Takashi-dono. Our blood cries out for vengeance for our dead all the way to Kurita Shiro-heika. Shall you accept the mantle of the Dragon?" Despite the tear tracks on her pale cheeks, Omi's voice was as hard and resolute as the steel she offered her only surviving kin.

For a long moment all was still, then Minoru reached out and took the sword from where it lay on the outstretched palms of his sister. He raised it over his head with both hands in a smooth, practiced movement. Omi remembered her brothers practicing the men strike in kendo as she secretly watched them as a child as Minoru assumed the position for the pear-splitter.

"I shall. Keeper of the House Honor, I swear upon my name and lineage that as no man may rest under the same sky as the murderer of his kin, so shall the Dragon not rest until the Smoke Jaguar is no more. Warlord, summon my generals to conference on Benjamin." His voice was a growl of grief, pain...and the iron pride that had driven his ancestors to make their mark on history.

Isoruku silently bowed and departed, leaving the siblings alone. Omi watched in silence as Minoru sheathed the sword then turned to her. "I have a war to fight, Sister, but I would see you safe."

She nodded. "Such was father's intent. He spoke to the Fox to make arrangements for my safety if such was necessary. I shall travel to New Avalon and gather what aid I can muster to support you...unless you command otherwise."

Minoru walked to her, and placed his hand gently on her shoulders. For long moments he stared into her eyes, into her soul, then nodded sharply. "I shall obey Father's wishes in such matters. I merely request that you do not travel openly, for Father and Uncle Isoroku have shared concerns about dissident elements with me. What...has happened recently may embolden them and I...the Coordinator does not need distractions from his duty."

Omi smiled through her tears and hugged her little brother as she choked out her thanks. "Doumo arigatou gozaimasu, Minoru-chan. I shall go to make arrangements for my travel now."