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Another Omake by Yellowhammer: Omi's Message Home

Many of the so-called mental peculiarities of the
Japanese have their origins in the love of purity and its
complementary hatred of defilement. But, pray, how could
it be otherwise, being trained, as we actually are, to look upon
slights inflicted, either on our family honor or on the
national pride, as so many defilements and wounds that would not
be clean and heal up again, unless by a thorough washing through
vindication? You may consider the cases of vendetta so often met
with in the public and private life of Japan, merely as a kind of
morning bath for a people in whom love of cleanliness has
become a passion.
---From Yoshisaburo Okakura, The Life and Thought of
Japan, London, Terra, 1913

In revenge, there is something that satisfies one's sense of
justice. Our sense of revenge is as exact as our mathematical
faculty, and until both terms of the equation are satisfied, we
cannot get over the sense of something left undone.
---From Inazo Nitobe, Bushido, The Soul of Japan, London,
Terra, 1900

Patience is a needed Art for vendetta. Haste makes the crop
go sour. Vengeance, like fruits of the vine, requires time to
sweeten.
-Kevin McAbayashi, in Assassin's Handbook, Office of
Reference Materials, Order of the Five Pillars, Luthien, 2887

Palace of Spreading Harmony
Galedon V, Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine
15 March, 3057

Duke Hassad Ricol studied the holodisplay showing the current state of the Combine.

The battered husk of Luthien still glowed the dull gray of a Smoke Jaguar world, now joined by Chatham, Leiston, and Bicester. Yumesta glowed the orange of conflict as the DCMS Sixth and Seventh Ghost bled and died to plug the hole that the 'shift' of the Seventh Sword of Light had opened. His ally "Agate" led the Teak Dragon to Dover to secure the critical shipyards there for Coordinator Franklin Kurita.

Let the eta and burakumin die to slow down the barbarian Jaguars. Once the enemies had exhausted each other, then the true samurai would perform an iaido strike to slay the Jaguar and reclaim Luthien for the Dragon.

Sadly, some of the units that he was hoping to rely on had launched independent actions to strike the Jaguars upon hearing the news of Luthien. Their casualties would need to be made good first....

A chime interrupted Ricol's musings. "My Lord Archduke, a messenger from ComStar."

Ricol blanked the display with a silent snarl of annoyance, "Then send them in!"

The red-robed Adept entered, escorted by a pair of his personal guards, and knelt before the Red Duke. "The Peace of Blake upon you, Archduke Ricol. I have a message for you."

He placed a hard sided metal document case on the table. "As directed, I am to bring this directly to you and place it in your hands for your eyes only."

Ricol glanced at the guard who nodded confirmation that the case had been scanned and was not a bomb. "Ordered, by whom?"

His eyes then were drawn to the white wax seal holding the case closed and he felt a pit of ice form in his stomach. The seal was the familiar Dragon of House Kurita with a sakura flower between the Dragon's open jaws. The seal of the Keeper of the House Honor. "Out, and I am not to be disturbed!"

Ricol opened the latch with a hiss as the seal broke on the case once the room had been cleared. Then he looked at the contents. Inside the case, several of the fluid filled shock absorbing elements had sprung a minor leak, but the contents were clearly undamaged.

A verigraphed sheet of the near-indestructible plastic that had taken the place of paper early in the 25th century had his name in hand-written kanji neatly above the security thumb strip to verify his identity. The other object was a message disk marked with the Dragon and sakura of the Keeper.

Ricol wiped some of the fluid from the sheet of paper to clean it off. As he did, the holoimage of Omi Kurita as part of the verigraph of the paper seemed to track him with a knowing smile. He then pressed his thumb to the offered security strip and a poem formed like magic.

A parting word?
The melting snow
is odorless.

He frowned. The message of the Keeper's poem was unclear. Clearly the statement was about the transience of existence, but....

With the question lingering in his mind, he wiped more packing fluid off the holodisk and inserted it into the terminal.

The display fuzzed and reformed into the image of Omi Kurita kneeling in seiza. Dressed in a pure white formal kimono embroidered with the five scarlet dragon kamon of House Kurita and a black obi that had subtle gray threading suggesting the Dragon's scales, she was the image of feminine demure beauty.

"Konban-wa, Duke Ricol-san. Please forgive my tardiness in speaking to you. I was unable to accord you the proper courtesies when our paths crossed on Benjamin last October."

Her voice was melodic and her smile pleasant, but there was something lurking in her blue eyes that caused him to shiver slightly.

"I wish to tell you a story for your instruction my lord Duke. Once the Dragon laid a single egg, and guarded it closely, for it held his Prince who would one day take his father's place as the Dragon. The Dragon knew that the Yellow Bird, the enemy of the Dragon would fear this Prince and took precautions, but despite his wisdom, the Dragon underestimated the Yellow Bird's cunning. As the Dragon traveled among his realm, the Yellow Bird struck, wounding the Dragon and nearly slaying the Prince. Only the honor and loyalty of a little blue Dove saved the Dragon and his Prince from the Yellow Bird's strike and the Dragon raised the Dove to among his courtiers and took the Dove's advice for all subjects of the Dragon have their own parts to pay to insure the Harmony of the Realm."

Ricol rubbed his hands nervously, and blinked.

"This is the story that I was told by my father's father as a girl, My Lord Duke. Truly Takashi-Dono was a wise and powerful Dragon to trust one as you who saved him and his son from the rebels of Rasalhague who nearly killed them both before my birth. Your actions on that day...."

The image panned back to reveal that Omi was flanked by vases containing bright orange tiger lilies and blood-red spider lilies. Ricol recoiled as if physically struck at the symbolism of the hanakotoba flower arrangements presented.

Hatred and Death.

Omi's eyes flared a icy steel-blue and her expression hardened, making Ricol's heart race as he trembled uncontrollably. He had seen that expression as a young boy sixty years before. Her eyes were the same as Takashi's father Hohiro I as he laughed at the sight of a noble flogged to death in public court for disrespect to the Dragon.

"....were well hidden, but not hidden enough. You fooled my grandfather. You fooled my father. Your treachery killed my brother and uncle."

Omi's voice was terse and controlled and her terrible eyes bored into him. Ricol gulped, trying to work his numb hands to life.

"My Lord Duke, let me tell you the true story. The Yellow Bird bribed the Dove with a supply of precious stones such as rubies to worm his way into the Dragon's confidence. The attack on the Dragon and his Prince was concealment for the Dove to get close to the Dragon and steal away the Prince's firstborn, conceived out of wedlock, to warp into a foe to be used against the Dragon. Through his treachery the Dove abandoned the Prince to die to the Dragon's enemies, and two of the three children of the Prince died honorable deaths in defense of the realm."

Ricol felt dozens of insects travel up and down his spine, and he blinked away spots in his vision.

"That leaves the last true egg of the Dragon...and the Traitor Dove. My brother Minoru swore to me that no man may live under the same sky as the slayer of his kin when I gave him the sword of Shiro Kurita as Coordinator. Know that I will not stop until your line and your allies' lines are exterminated from the face of the stars and human memory!" Omi snarled, her face flushing with wrath as her control cracked.

Ricol stumbled and collapsed as Omi continued in a hatred-filled inexorable voice filled with grief and fury. "I declare Vendetta upon you and yours, Duke Hassad Ricol, Ruby of the Black Dragon Society. Your treachery will be avenged a hundredfold for each tear that I have wept for my kin. But as for you...I have something special planned for you."

Ricol began to howl in agony as his nerves exploded in fire.

"Even now the Dragon's Breath works on you Ricol. No quick or honorable death for you, lowest of the low, traitor and conspirator. Just the agony of knowing that the Dragon! Will! Have! Her! Vengeance!"

((((()))))

March 18th, 3057

The palace physician bowed before Franklin Kurita. "Coordinator-dono, the Duke's condition worsens."

Franklin nodded slowly. "The cause?"

"Severe mercury poisoning. Incurable. The symptoms are agony, madness and then death as the body consumes its own nerves uncontrollably. Our diagnosis is that he is strong and he might...linger...for days, weeks, perhaps even months."

In the distance the screams of the dying man could be faintly heard.

"How was he poisoned?"

"The message that was sent through ComStar was packed with dimethylmercury in the packing materials inside a sealed case. One drop on bare skin is lethal and he absorbed it through his hands. The DCMS has been called to attempt to make the room safe for human entrance from the poison that evaporated and accumulates on the furnishings, but...." An eloquent shrug.

"I see. Leave me, I must consider the implications of such action by my half-sister."

Prelude to Sarna, Part 2

“...We launched some supporting operations to further pin down Fedcom forces, and they moved to breakout as expected, but the performance of Blakist troops was not up to the standard they had set earlier in the invasion. Our own operations have currently met with mixed success; however, we have moved the lion’s share of McCarron’s people into place to greet the Fedcom breakout attempt. Other operations, such as the “removal” of disloyal mercenary elements in our own forces, went well, though the fugitive, John Wesley Bordon, remains at large, but the Maskirovka has made his capture a priority and we expect bids from bounty hunters within the week…”

Excerpt from report to the Chancellor on the Progress of East Sea from the Strategios, dated 13 Feburary, 3056 (damaged copy was released by Capellan Joint Committee to Investigate the Prosecution of the War (Joint Committee formed from both the House of Scions and Prefectorate.) The document was released to the public in open hearings on 19 July, 3058.

Operations East Sea and Lattikia (Combined Wave 2)

Corey
Attacking Units:35th Free Worlds “Volunteers”, (ex – 5th Marik Militia)

Defending Units: Corey SMM, Corey Planetary Guard

Results: The Corey SMM turned their coats, and invited the Mariks in without a shot, expecting the world would be returned to the Confederation, however, the Mariks swiftly disarmed the Corey SMM and deposed the government, installing their own military governor and began the process of integrating the world into the League.

Tsingtao
Attacking Units: House Hiritsu

Defending Units: 36th Lyran Guards RCT, Tsingtao Planetary Guard.

Results: House Hiritsu had bad intelligence, that suggested the 36th had left to become part of Clover Spear, but in fact, it had never left Tsingtao, and was greeted with a ferocious series of counterattacks that smashed the Warrior House, destroying 50% of the unit before it fled off world.


Heligoland
Attacking Units: 15th Dracon

Defending Units: 3rd Fedcom RCT, Heilgoland Planetary Guard.

Results: The 15th suffered the same bad intelligence that House Hiritsu had suffered, and was mauled by the 3rd, who weren’t even supposed to be on the world, and had been missed on their usual baseworld of Sarna.

Van Diemen IV
Attacking Units: 4th Free Worlds “Volunteers”, reinforced mid-month by the 5th Free World’s “Volunteers”

Defending Units: 3rd Republican, Van Diemen Planetary Guard.

Results: The 3rd managed to coalesce around the minor mining town of New Arrangton. They fought a game siege, but the arrival of the 5th showed the 3rd that the writing was on the wall. Within the week, the 3rd Republican departed Van Diemen for Castor.

Manapire
Attacking Units: Ishihara’s Grenadiers, Marshagima’s Legionnaires

Defending Units: 3rd Ceti Hussars RCT, Manapire Planetary Guard.

Results: The Ceti Hussars managed to enter the caves and smashed both Capellan merc units badly, with the 3rd Battalion of Ishihara’s Grenadiers fighting a brave rear guard action to allow time for the rest of the force to get to their dropships and escape, however, the Davions got there first, and forced the remains of both units to surrender.

Matsu
Attacking Units: Blanford’s Grenadiers and Kingston’s Legionnaires

Defending Units: 8th Arcturan Guards, Matsu Planetary Guard

Results: The 8th did the best they could against Blandford’s and Kingston’s but as on Truth, the numbers and experience were not in their favor, and the unit withdrew to Mandate after two weeks of fighting. However, the arrival of the Capellans re-opened divisions that had racked the world during the 4th Succession War, and when the FC troops withdrew, they exploded into open violence, with the Capellan units often acting as peacekeepers between the various factions.

Diversionary Raids
Verlo
Attacking Units: House Daidachi

Defending Units: 15th Deneb Light Cavalry RCT, Verlo Planetary Guard

Results: House Daidachi had already come off two successful raids, and was looking forward to a third, but the 15th, while not as experienced as the Capellans, did have the numbers on them, and used them effectively, frustrating the Capellan commander, and forcing him to leave 10 days after his unit arrived, completely empty handed.

Jonzac
Attacking Units: House Kamata

Defending Units: Jonzac Planetary Guard

Results: The people of Jonzac awoke to find that House Kamata had done an avalanche drop right atop the main militia barracks in the planetary capitol. The Capellans then began to systematically loot the world, taking with them 35 Million C-Bills worth of refined petroleum products, and another 10 million in industrial machine presses.


“The final wave of Clover Spear faced Falcon units that were at best, in an advanced state of moral and logistical collapse. With the exception of Winfield, Falcon units fought in a confused and/or half-hearted manner, and were not often willing to engage us, even when they had a clear advantage. We are happy to report the fourth and final wave concluded ahead of schedule, and the timetable to shift units back to the Federated Stuns State Command is as follows…”

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

Winfield
Attacking Units: 21st Striker Regiment, and 151st Light Horse Regiment, Eridani Light Horse, Grey Death Legion, 1st Argyle Lancers, 3 Independent Artillery Brigades.

Defenders: 6th Provisional Garrison Cluster, 1st Provisional Cluster (3 Trinaries of survivors from various Falcon Clusters), 8th Talon Cluster (20% understrength) Clan Jade Falcon

Results: Winfield was the scene of some of the bloodiest fighting of Clover Spear. The world had had an active insurgency that at times, resembled a civil war, with as many people supporting the Falcons due to their Star League origins, as fought against them. Winfield soon became a “training” ground for Falcon sibkos, and several were amalgamated into a provisional cluster along with the shattered convalescing survivors of several destroyed Falcon clusters lost earlier in Clover Spear, as well as the remnants of the 8th Talon Cluster, fresh from their defeat at the hands of the Wolves. (The 8th found Trell I in a planetary uprising, and wisely evacuated two weeks after arrival, taking as many of the lower caste members as they could). The general uprising before the FC troops made landfall was dealt with brutally, with a Falcon warship, the CJF Emerald Tornado dropping deadfall ordnance directly on rebel-held areas of the capitol before she was nuked from existence by FC aerospace fighters.

The fighting dirtside was no less brutal, as the Falcons holed up in the Kerensky Munitions and Armaments factory complex, as well as the nearby town of Hazen. A brutal three-week siege then ensued, with little quarter asked or given. The last defenders then made a massed night assault on the lines of the 1st Argyle Lancers, and if not for the actions of Hauptmann Sara Bennigan, and her Thunderbolt, rallying a makeshift defense of the logistics area and the regimental headquarters, the 1st would have been overrun. Haputmann Bennigan was awarded the Medal Excalibur for her actions in a ceremony at Davion Palace in 3058. Accurate and timely artillery fire shattered the Falcon charge, and the Eridani Light Horse cut off the survivors and annihilated them. Only 24 Falcon warriors survived to be taken prisoner.

Trell I
Attacking Units: Grey Death Legion, 3 Independent Artillery Brigades.

Defenders: 8th Talon Cluster, 1st Provisional Cluster, Clan Jade Falcon

Results:

Apollo
Attacking Units: 3rd Crucis Lancers RCT, 26th Lyran Guards RCT, 3 Independent Artillery Brigades.

Defending Units: 17th Falcon Regulars, Clan Jade Falcon

Results: The fighting for Apollo was short and sharp, with the Falcons abandoning the defense of Apollo after a week of desultory resistance. The 17th has not been seen again since fleeing Apollo.

Evicler
Attacking Units: 8th Deneb Light Cavalry RCT, Davion Light Guards RCT, 1st Kell Hounds, 3 Independent Artillery Brigades

Defending Units: 9th Talon Cluster, Clan Jade Falcon

Results: The 9th challenged Morgan Kell to a duel for the fate of the Cluster, and the chosen champion, Star Commander Aaron Malthus, was unhorsed from his ‘Mech in less than fifteen seconds. The unit then became bondsmen of the Kell Hounds.

Devin
Attacking Units: 1st Robinson Rangers, 2nd Davion Guards RCT, 2 Independent Artillery Brigades

Defending Units: Choyer Garrison Cluster, Clan Jade Falcon

Results: After a small engagement near the 1st Rangers LZs, the Falcon morale collapsed, as much to a lack of logistical support and the fact that there was no help coming from their clan. The rest of the campaign was marked by accepting mass surrenders.


“..I knew we had to break out, it wasn’t going to end well for anyone in the “Old Kentucky Pocket” if we didn’t. But we didn’t have a ton of mobile forces to accomplish it, if we all moved from the border, we’d have the League come in after us and crush us from behind, all we had was the 12th Vegan Rangers, who’d already had one of their regiments lose a tough campaign on Tsinghai. But all their regiments wanted some payback. So, in a long, and at times, emotional conversation over a series of HPG messages, I authorized them to break out. It threw off our timetable for ACTIVE PANTHER a bit, but it worked out..in a fashion, in the end. Damn near gutted the 12th Vegans on Sarna, I hope the survivors can forgive me for that.”

Taken from “Too Long a Soldier” pp. 335, by Marshal Jackson Davion, AFFC (Ret.)

Corey
Attacking Units: Beta and Gamma Regiments, 12th Vegan Rangers, 2nd Robinson Rangers

Defending Units: 35th Marik Volunteers (ex. 5th Marik Militia)

Results: Barely two weeks had gone by since the 35th had arrived on Corey, and they were barely involved in assimilating the world back into the Free Worlds League when the Fedcom force arrived to contest ownership of the world. The 35th did well, but the weight of numbers was against it, and the Marik unit left the world after a month of heavy fighting, having lost nearly a battalion trying to hold back the Fedcom force.


Matsu
Attacking Units: Alpha and Delta Regiments, 12th Vegan Rangers

Defending Units: Blanford’s Grenadiers and Kingston’s Legionnaires

Results: Things did not go well for any of the combatants on Matsu. The Capellan units were still bogged down trying to bring peace to Matsu when the 12th arrived, causing a flareup in the violence, forcing both units to be scattered in penny packets that were brutally overrun by the Rangers early on. But, the Capellans stabilized the situation and a bloody stalemate soon settled in, with both sides being harried by the factionalized insurgents, thus plunging Matsu into a nasty three-sided civil war.


Zion
Attacking Units: 1st Kestrel Grenadiers

Defending Units: 3rd Free Worlds Guards

Results: The 1st Kestrel savored a chance to raid the 3rd Guards, as they had drubbed them before, and did so again, smashing them time and again over a period of two weeks, and destroying almost a battalion before it was all said and done. They also seized some 50 Million C-Bills worth of agricultural products for their trouble, and a warehouse of Battlemech parts for the militia, who had recently been disarmed due to concerns as to their loyalty.


Operation Pointe Claíomh (Sword Point)

“They abandoned our brothers and sisters on Tamar, abandoned them and our Duke to the rapacious hands of the Clans! All because he dared to do what they could not! KICK ALL THE CLANS OUT OF THE INNER SPHERE. Ryan Steiner is a hero, whose name will beat in the heart of all true Skye patriots for all time….”

Excerpt from captured Sons of Skye propaganda leaflet taken by Landing City Police Department on Solaris, March 8th, 3057. The raid on the cell also yielded 10 rifles, 40 pistols, 10,000 rounds of ammunition, half a ton of C-9 explosives, 500,000 L-Bills, and a plan to assassinate Duke Brewer of Coventry during a scheduled visit in June.

Tamar
Attacking Units: 4th Skye Rangers RCT, 17th Skye Rangers, 22nd Skye Rangers, Dragonslayers, Eriksson's Einherjar (1 Regiment), 789th Striker and the Black Cobra Regiment of the Crater Cobras.

Defending Units: Golden Keshik, 4th Wolf Guards Assault Cluster, Clan Wolf, CWS Nicholas Kerensky

Results: The Wolf Clan Warship Nicholas Kerensky was lost early in the invasion, being blotted from the sky by at least 50-60 nuclear weapons as the Skye forces gained aerial superiority and dropped Eriksson’s Einherjar right on top of the Golden Keshik’s barracks and ‘Mechbays. Though the Einerjar was brutalized, with barely a battalion surviving to be relieved by the 4th Skye, it managed to gun down a majority of the Keshik in their barracks, with only a trinary led by Natasha Kerensky managing to fight their way clear. Kerensky soon linked up with the 4th Wolf Guards and then led them on a mobile campaign that frustrated the efforts of the Skye forces to take the planet for a better part of a month.

Most citizens of Tamar, surprisingly, did not revolt against the Wolves when called to do so by Ryan Steiner. Many were content to remain neutral. The arrival of a Wolf Clan relief force in mid-March, led by Phelan Ward, consisting of the 352nd Assault Cluster, the 24th Wolf Rangers, the Doberung and Choyer PGCs, and his own Silver Keshik, ended any realistic attempt by Skye and her forces to retake Tamar. At the same time, a courier ship from the Federated Commonwealth arrived, denouncing the actions of Ryan Steiner, and stating that any units that did not return with the courier ship would be dispossessed if they managed to return to the Federated Commonwealth, or left to the tender mercies of the Wolves if they did not.

Upon hearing this, the Dragonslayers, now consisting of 2 weak battalions, and the surviving Black Cobra Regiment of the Crater Cobras fled to return to the Federated Commonwealth, where they were given free passage to Outreach. The remaining units were involved in a titanic battle in and around Tamar City, where all the remaining Inner Sphere units were destroyed over another three weeks of fighting, with the Wolves taking heavy casualties, especially in the 24th Wolf Rangers and the two Garrison Clusters. Vlad Ward was among these casualties, attempting to rally a trinary from the Choyer PGC when it broke under a counterattack by the 4th Skye Rangers. He died under the guns of at least three assault ‘Mechs. Very few bondsmen were taken by the Wolves, with no quarter asked, nor given.

In the final aerospace battle, Ryan Steiner in his Lucifer dueled the Wolf Clan ace Carew Ngyren in his Visigoth. The fight lasted some twenty minutes, with Ngyren finally killing Ryan Steiner, and the fighter plummeting to the planet below.

In the wake of the fighting, Natasha Kerensky has called a Clan Council meeting to discuss the future of the Wolf Clan in the Inner Sphere….


Wolf Clan Council Chambers

Tamar City

Tamar

Wolf Clan Occupation Zone

March 16th, 3057

You can still smell the burning buildings even here. Phelan Ward-Kell, saKhan of Clan Wolf observed, as the current bloodnamed of Clan Wolf filed into one of the larger lecture halls at the campus of the former War College of Tamar. Their usual meeting place, the Hall of the Bloodnamed, which used to be the meeting place for the former Ducal government and the parliament, was now nothing but smoldering rubble, one of the last stands for the remains of a Skye Guards Regiment, a Cyclops that had been repeatedly holed by an over-enthusiastic warrior had fallen right atop the building…95 tons does nasty things to any building not built like a bunker.

I don’t know how to feel about Vlad being dead. Part of me is gratified that such a rival is gone, not just for my own personal fortunes, but for the future of the Wolves. He was perhaps not as blinkered as the Jade Falcons were, but his prejudices would have been the Wolves undoing. Better he died a glorious death here, though there wasn’t much left of his giftake when we found his ‘Mech. I think one of the Skye ‘Mechs kicked in his cockpit, right into the sidewalk in fact.

On the other hand, Vlad was a Wolf warrior par excellence. He was everything the founder asked us to be. Brave, cunning, skilled, ruthless. He was a Warrior we expect, and yet, that expectation has led to this. The Falcons and Vipers being chased out of the Inner Sphere, the Jaguars mired in unending blood and death in a disintegrating Combine, no closer to Terra than any of us, while the Adders are systematically making sure they have no home to return to. Huntress fell a month ago, and from what I understand, the Jaguars resisted to the last, Lincoln Osis died at the hand of Tabitha Paik. There are wars and rumors of war swirling through the homeworlds. The madness the founder fled with the eight hundred is gripping the Clans themselves, and all because of one man. Hanse Davion, you magnificent bastard. You’ve crippled the clans for all time. You knew that when you started this. And now, your son and daughter have us in a corner. But what is to be the solution? War, or something else?

Loremaster Katya Kerensky gaveled the meeting to order. “Trothkin near and far, I call this meeting of the Wolf Clan Council to order. I remind all that we exist in a state of war, and the Martial Code governs this meeting. We shall all abide by the decisions made here, it is our rede. Until we all shall fall, selya!”

“Selya” the chamber thundered

Though usually, the Clan Council consisted of some three hundred seventy-five warriors, give or take depending on bloodname vacancies, however, in this case, the representatives of the lower castes had been invited today, thus swelling attendance in the hall to possibly over five hundred. This was a meeting to decide the future of the Clan as a whole, and more representatives were attending via teleconference.

Natasha Kerensky, Khan of Clan Wolf, rose from her place front and center in the conclave, she doffed her ceremonial mask and smiled, opening her arms wide. “Trothkin. I come to you a clan that is facing a crisis. But like all crises, there is both danger, and opportunity. Do we choose war? We would be within our right to take vengeance on the Federated Commonwealth by our laws, and our customs. Ryan Steiner was a liege lord of the Federated Commonwealth, he was not acting in their name, but it was their responsibility to keep him in check!”

The chamber roared with approval. “WAR! PUNISH THE ARROGANT FREEBIRTHS!!”

“But what would war gain us? Sure, we would beat the holy hell out of the Federated Commonwealth for a while. But in the end, they would smash us underfoot of their numbers, and their artillery. Their people would rally to their leaders, convinced ALL the clans are nothing more than perfidious, murderous neighbors whose very way of life must be violently exterminated. It is a war we cannot win ultimately.”

“I SEEK A TRIAL OF GRIEVANCE, NATASHA! YOU SPEAK AS AN OLD FREEBIRTH, NOT A BOLD WARRIOR WE NEED TO LEAD US!” shouted one voice from the gallery. Several shouts and murmurs echoed in sympathy for the speaker, or to shout him down for interrupting the Khan.

Katya Kerensky leaned into the microphone and banged her gavel furiously. “Order, we will have ORDER! Or I will have Star Captain Fetladral clear the hall!”

The very mention of Star Captain Fetladral seemed to take the starch out of the sails of many of the dissenters, and the shouting matches slowly broke up, and people resumed their seats. Loremaster Kerensky turned to Natasha and nodded.”

“Thank you, Loremaster. In any event, I ken disaster for us if we choose war. But there is another option, trothkin. We can choose peace. In fact, I believe we must choose it. The most important imperative of the leadership of this clan is to ensure that the clan continues to survive and thrive. War with the Federated Commonwealth will never accomplish this, and all the emotionalism of the Crusader cause will not change the facts. The second most powerful Clan was badly humbled, and may even now, be in the process of being absorbed, or worse.”

There were murmurs of surprise. “Has it come to this, Khan Kerensky?” asked Colin, the old, wizened leader of the laborer caste, he was respected far beyond his station for his loyalty to the clan, and his steady advice on non-military matters. He had been very successful with most of his suggestions in how to assimilate the restive Inner Sphere populations of the Occupation Zone into the Clan as a whole.

“I am sorry Colin, it has. My last meeting with the Grand Council went badly, to say the least, and some clans aren’t even bothering to consult with them before turning on their fellows. Many Clans are not conducting themselves with any sort of honor. I often say that ‘Slavish adherence to ritual shows that one has nothing better to think about’, but in this case, that ritual, properly applied, did provide a measure of stability for our people. A thin veneer of stability against the chaos violence usually brings. The Commonwealth’s offensive, and the way it was conducted has shaken the Clans to their core and has stripped that veneer away.

Another voice chimed out “What of the ilKhan? He is a Wolf. Surely he can bring sanity to all of this?”

“Trothkin, I applaud your faith in Ulric, he is the best of us. But what good are his words when all ears have been closed to him?” Kerensky shook her head. “No, we have but one course. We must make common cause with our Inner Sphere citizens, we must unite the Clan and we must become part of their lives, as they must be made welcome to us. We must, proverbially, and in some cases, actually speaking, ‘cut their bondcord’ now, and for all time.”

The hall went silent.

“Trothkin, amongst the bravest of us here on Tamar was the 24th Wolf Rangers. They were an experiment. Consisting of trusted Lyran and Rasalhaguian adoptees, and equipped with Inner Sphere ‘Mechs and vehicles, we used them to see if we could integrate Inner Sphere warriors into the touman. The 24th proved to us over the last three weeks that the answer was yes. They were everywhere, plugging the line when it broke, launching attacks when needed, and they all volunteered as one, to recover bodies of the bloodnamed time, and time again, including the remains of Vlad Ward. And they suffered for it. Over a third of them are dead. Many more will never pilot a ‘Mech again. But what do we call them? ‘Freebirth?’, “Spheroid?’ What we should call them, if they have earned a place to be there, is ‘warrior’ or ‘trothkin’. Because for now, they are us, and we are them.”

“OvKhan, then what do we do about the Commonwealth?” a young Star Commander in the front row inquired.

Khan Kerensky smiled. “We do the unexpected. We deliver an olive branch. We have much to bargain with, and we Clansmen know how to bargain, do we not, quiaff?”




10th Skye Rangers Cantonment

8km South of Hirihito

New Kyoto

Skye March, Federated Commonwealth

March 23rd, 3057


“I give a rats ass General, I am a Marshal, I outrank you, and that means in the AFFC, you follow orders? Kapice?” Marshal Sharon Bryan was not happy. She had gotten priority message from no less than Nondi Steiner herself that a) Most of the Skye Guards brigade had gotten a wild hair up their asses and gone off and attacked Tamar, potentially provoking the Wolves at a really bad time for the Commonwealth, and b) she had been ordered to disarm the one remaining regiment of the Rangers, the 10th and incarcerate the senior personnel on suspicion of high treason pending their “interview” with LIC.

Things had begun well enough, they had met with a party from the 10th Skye Rangers, including their regimental commander and S-3 under flag of truce at a point 100 meters outside the main gate. Both sides had ‘Mechs and troops under cover, all guns trained on the parley. No doubt with orders to gun me down if it goes badly, Sharon’s mind reported.

And that smartass Rhonda Snord isn’t making things easier, she’s content to stand there with her arms crossed and smoke a cigar. she’s ordered her people to even leave their ‘Mechs behind!

“We are following our lord’s last orders, legal orders Marshal, and as such it is you who is committing a criminal act. I warn you, any of your people set foot on our cantonment..we will take action!” Leutnant General Bukkish was a long serving officer from Tamar, whose career had been less than stellar, even for a “social general” but he was loyal, and that loyalty had gotten him promoted up the ranks of the Skye Rangers, even if that loyalty wasn’t to the Commonwealth as a whole. His hair was receding, what was left was grey, and his dusky skin was spotted, his beady brown eyes betraying the fear he felt for himself, and his people, as an Elite RCT, backed up by an equally competent mercenary battalion had just shown up and demanded his people lay down their arms without so much as a by-your-leave.

Sharon Bryan had half a meter on the General, and she leaned in slightly, coming almost nose to nose with the General. “Oh, that would be a mistake, General. You do that, and I won’t bother taking any prisoners. You’d all be traitors to the Commonwealth, and I’d treat you as such.”

“Fine sentiments Marshal, but how does it feel being a Davion lapdog?” Bukkish replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No worse than it does being loyal to an idiot that may have begun a war for his own pride.” Bryan replied, her own snark on full display. “It seems, General, we are at an impasse. Fine, I will make this simple. You’ve got 4 hours. Either surrender, or at the end of four hours we’re coming in. If you don’t resist, we will take prisoners. If you do? Well, your people had better have luck on their side when it comes to surrendering, because my kids will probably shoot first, then ask questions later, we’re done
here. “ and with that, Bryan turned on her heel and left, her gaggle of aides trailing behind. Snord ran up to Bryan’s side.

“That could have gone better.” Snord said wryly.

“He didn’t have any intention of surrendering, and he knows he can’t win. We have the numbers and firepower.” Bryan scoffed.

Snord nodded sadly. “Yes, you are right, but Marshal, you did kind of come in there guns blazing. And no offense, but we could just wait them out.”

Bryan shook her head. “Nope, not going to give these traitors a rallying point.”

Snord stopped walking, and turned to Bryan “What rallying point, Marshal? The rest of the Skye Brigade is dead, or behind Wolf razor wire, being turned into bondsmen. We could give a bunch of well-trained, misguided folks a chance to save their own lives. Not to mention the lives of our boys and girls who are going to have to go in after them.”

“Spoken like a mercenary, Snord.” Bryan said, exasperated.

Snord nodded. “We have time on our side, Marshal. Cut their power, water, and lights. We send in Loki to disable their fusion plant, and then we wait. May take a few weeks, maybe a month, but we have nothing but time.”

“Let me consider it, Snord. You’re right. We don’t need any more loss of life here than necessary. But it depends on what Tharkad tells us.”

Had someone, but RL got very busy for them. Yes, this story needs LOTS of maps.

Another Omake from Yellowhammer. It's an interesting piece, that asks some good questions!

Walk in a forest during the day and the sunshine
makes the trees seem like a friendly presence. You feel
happy. But walk in the forest at night and the trees remind
you of prison bars. Why? Because the sunlight is no longer
there to illuminate all that seems good in our experience.
We are left to face only the dark side of our own nature.
-From Koans For a Modem Age, by Jennifer Katsuyori,
Gideon Press, 3000

Davion Palace, New Avalon
23 January 3057

Yvonne Steiner-Davion made her way through the familiar rabbit warren of the Palace corridors to the 'guest apartment' set aside for Omiko Kurita.

Idly humming a musical snippet from one of her father's favorite pre-Diaspora operas, she paused at the door, and nodded to the tough-looking tattooed Oriental man who was chatting with the Davion Guards Leftenant in charge of the door guards. "Is Omi inside?"

He nodded and spoke in Combine-accented English. "Hai. She is recording a message, if you do not mind waiting."

Yvonne nodded. "That's fine, I will just wait inside. I planned to ask her if she had any plans for tonight." She stepped into the foyer and pulled off her uniform boots, taking an offered set of house slippers, and raising a mental eyebrow at three other sets of shoes already present in the neat cubicle.

A muffled voice sounded from further inside, and Yvonne grinned and silently approached a door standing ajar. She pushed it open slightly to peek into the room beyond, and then froze.

Omi was dressed formally in an irisode kimono with five blood-red Kurita crests. She knelt gracefully in seiza on a tatami mat which had been dragged in and placed where the normal table and chairs for her sitting room would be. A pair of flowerpots filled with orange and red flowers flanked Omi, and Omi's attention was focused at the other end where Parvati and a pair of uniformed AFFC enlisted techs were concentrating on several holocameras filming her.

"...abandoned the Prince to die to the Dragon's enemies, and two of the three children of the Prince died honorable deaths in defense of the realm. That leaves the last true egg of the Dragon...and the Traitor Dove. My brother Minoru swore to me that no man may live under the same sky as the slayer of his kin when I gave him the sword of Shiro Kurita as Coordinator. Know that I will not stop until your line and your allies' lines are exterminated from the face of the stars and human memory!"

Yvonne bit her lip as the three-quarter profile of the Kurita royal twisted in rage and her eyes flashed furiously. She had seen that look before when she had visited Arthur and Tancred on Robinson after Arthur entered Robinson Battle Academy three years ago. She remembered how the face of long-dead Warlord Hugai Kurita in the two-century old holograph that had a pride of place in the Sandoval archives twisted in that same way as he spoke to the wounded Lyran officer who had fought a hopeless battle for seven years to resist the Arm of the Dragon.

"You and your men fought well, Colonel Hinders. I am minded to grant you a final gift before the end to honor your misguided valor. Come the morrow you will be allowed to confront the man who gave the Dragon the secrets of the Fourth Royal Guards. Guards, take him to a cell and call the physician to see that his wounds are not fatal...yet."

The stabbing pain in her palms as her nails dug into them brought her back to herself from the memories of past atrocities She knew what that tone of voice in the past had portended. Colonel Hinders had been forced to battle his brother to the death for Hugai's entertainment. As the dying Lyran officer realized too late what he had done, Hugai ordered his execution as the last member of the Pride of the Commonwealth...and the images of his final hours were sent to the Archon in an attempt to break Archon Claudius Steiner.

As Omi finished her rant into the camera, Yvonne looked at her with new eyes. Was Omiko really the girl who she and Katherine had seen enjoying shopping for the first time...or this murderous grieving stranger?

But who could she talk to? Victor was clueless about women and head over heels for Omi. Arthur and Tancred Sandoval were the other extreme, prepared to see Omi in a negative light no matter what. Katherine was busy managing the FedCom and judging from what Yvonne had noticed in her conversations, Katherine favored the similarly orphaned girl. Peter was tied down herding cats on Tharkad and dealing with the mess in Skye. No, there was only one person who could get the truth as to whether or not Omiko Kurita was a viper in their midst.

Yvonne stepped back behind the door to hide as Parvati and the techs passed her. She then took a deep breath, mentally reciting to herself her father's family motto. "Bravery, Audacity, Destiny." With that she nodded and squared her shoulders as she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. She soundlessly approached the back of the other woman, as Omi plucked aimlessly at one of the flower displays and then placed a hand on her right shoulder as she mentally rehearsed what she was going to say to get Omi to open up.

As her hand grabbed Omi's shoulder, the Kurita royal moved, stepping forward with her left foot and half turning. Omi's right arm came up to knock Yvonne's hand away as her left hand grabbed Yvonne's wrist to yank her forward and off balance for a counterattack.

Steel blue eyes suddenly widened in recognition and Omi hurriedly let Yvonne go. "Moushiwake gozaimasen deshita, Yvonne-sama!" she stammered a horrified apology with a deep bow.

Yvonne grinned in triumph mentally as she gave a matching bow to accept the apology. "No permanent harm done, Omi, but," Yvonne schooled her face to the closest approximation she had of her mother's icy commanding stare upon hearing of a royal theft of double chocolate chip cookies from the Triad kitchens before a never-to-be-forgotten seventh birthday party, "we need to talk. Now." She pointed at the door to the enclosed garden for the apartment.

Omi gulped nervously and followed Yvonne into the rose garden. Yvonne smirked a little at the statue grouping dominating the center of it of a young man with a handlebar mustache and a dagger-pointed beard kneeling and offering three roses carved from white marble to a clearly touched young woman. Alexander Davion and Cynthia Varnay. Fitting. I wonder if Omi knows the history about the children of mortal enemies uniting in marriage to lead the Suns? She then pointed to the bench placed to let the occupants look out through the armored glass to survey the view from Mount Davion before sitting facing Omi.

Omi sat, one hand subtly worrying at her obi sash as the silence lingered and Yvonne calmly stared her in the face. Finally, Omi spoke. "What...what is the matter, Yvonne?"

Yvonne leaned forward. "Simply this. I came in to see you swearing eternal bloody vengeance upon someone for crimes committed against your family. We both know that Victor is head over heels for you, would deny you nothing at all, and would be inclined to... overlook... that kind of activity, especially if you were discreet about 'dealing with' your enemies at first. That means that I have to act to insure that you don't turn his reign into the second coming of Claudius the Cruel and turn Victor Steiner-Davion into a name to blacken the pages of our history alongside our worst tyrants."

Omi's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in horrified shock. "I would never! I would sooner die than hurt Victor-chan so! Please...you have to believe me!"

Yvonne winced mentally at the anguished look Omi was giving her. "Convince me. For starters, what was your little rant about?"

Omi took a deep breath and visibly gathered herself before meeting Yvonne's gaze. "MIIO gives you briefings, do they not?"

Yvonne nodded. "Not as much as Kathy or Peter get as the Regent and Heir or the spare to the throne, but I get the basics in case the Mask launches another successful attack on the dynasty and I have to step into their shoes. That way I can hit the ground running if the worst happens."

"They told you about Luthien and Benjamin then?"

"Not much more than the basics. The Jaguars overran Luthien and your father, mother and older brother perished in the fighting there. Then shortly afterward your younger brother was killed in a coup attempt on Benjamin. That sparked the current factional fighting within the Combine as nobles and generals rally around either your half-brother or your cousin to fight each other and the Clans."

Omi shook her head. "So ka. I was on Luthien when the Jaguars jumped into the system in overwhelming force. Father ordered me to... perform my duty." Omi's eyes glimmered with tears but her voice held an iron pride. "As the Keeper of House Honor I was to take the sword of Kurita Shiro-heike to my younger brother Minoru at Benjamin to anoint him Coordinator if what happened happened. So I departed the system under orders with the sword, and a few other family treasures while Father and Hohiro bought me the time to make my escape with their lives."

Yvonne reached over and gently squeezed Omi's hand as the Kurita's tears began to fall. "Sumimasen, Yvonne-chan. Father also stated that considering the circumstances, I was to journey to New Avalon after my other duties to House Kurita were discharged since my safety in the Combine could not be assured. As well as for..." Omi blushed shyly, "other more personal reasons."

Yvonne cracked a reminiscent grin. "Yes, I heard all about that arrangement from Victor's end back on Tharkad after he got your message. He was dying to tell someone that there was a way that you two would be together. But that is not the topic of discussion, alas. Spill."

Omi nodded sadly. "I...met Minoru on the recharge station at Benjamin, along with Uncle Isoroku. I informed them of what I had witnessed from Luthien, of Father and Hohiro's deaths in battle." Yvonne squeezed her hand sympathetically as her own eyes teared up, remembering the moment when she got the news that her parents had been assassinated. "I then offered him the sword of Shiro Kurita to lead our armies to avenge Father's death. He accepted, and for a moment I dared to hope when I sensed the seeds of greatness in him."

Omi's face darkened. "But I hoped too soon. One of the leaders of the Black Dragon Society, Duke Hassid Ricol, was also on the station, and found out about events. He and the traitor Warlord Benjamin had gathered their forces for a coup and attacked us on board the station. it was only by the grace of the kami and the efforts of Yodama-san that I was able to fight my way to the ship that the Order had chartered to take us to the border."

Omi trembled, her tears flowed, and her grip on Yvonne's hand became a desperate grasp. "I was never their primary target though. Minoru was. I was on board the dropship trying to warn Minoru of the treachery and let him know that I was safe when..." Her voice broke and cracked. "I saw him for the last time. Somehow, he and Uncle Isoroku had fought their way to a communications station. They overrode the planetary network and Minoru, dying and outnumbered, performed his duty for the Combine. He denounced the traitors and called on those loyal to the Dragon to resist and keep the true dynasty alive in their hearts. Then he committed seppuku with Uncle Isoroku standing as second with the Sword to insure that none could be taken alive."

Omi swallowed. "And I... I watched him die. I was weak and failed him, because in that hour, all I wanted was my little Minoru-chan back. But his honor and my honor dictated otherwise. Karma."

Yvonne leaned forward into Omi, gathering the other girl in a hug as tears soaked the shoulder of her uniform and Omi choked out in a bare whisper, "Sometimes at night I remember the man I killed with the sword in my sitting room. On the... bad nights... that man has my brother's face as I have to strike him down."

Yvonne finally released Omi from the hug once the tears stopped and handed her a handkerchief to allow Omi to make herself presentable. "So your 'message' is for the Black Dragons then?"

Omi nodded. "Hai. For Duke Ricol and as many of the others as I can track down. Katherine-chan was kind enough to provide some technical assistance in delivering it."

Yvonne showed teeth in a smile that would be perfectly in place on a fox leaving a chicken coop with a mouthful of bloody feathers. "Good. 'If you shoot at the Prince, you best not miss'. Father taught the Liaos that during the Fourth Succession War. Too bad that the lesson didn't stick; they can be slow learners. I suspect that Katherine will make it stick this time."

Omi gave a matching nasty smile. "It is to be hoped for that feud to be brought to a swift and permanent settlement in her favor, neh?"

Yvonne chuckled evilly, "Oh I don't mind if Candace's brood survive since they are reasonable people and know their place in the Sphere. Sun-Tzu, though... If I had already graduated, I would be pulling every string that I could to be part of the assault drop on his palace. Law School can wait, no one does that to us and gets away with it. Not for long, and we repay them in full for our injuries."

She then sobered and looked at Omi. "That said. You do not want to threaten people uninvolved in a conspiracy. Kill Ricol and the other Black Dragons, and I'll help piss on their graves on general principles involving rebellions, assassins, and traitors. Just don't go after innocents like wives and kids if they had no idea what Dad was up to. That's the kind of shit some of your ancestors pulled that makes the Sandovals get support when they scream about Kentares. Far better to take a page from Grandfather Andrew's book and roll out the Brigade of Guards to surgically crush the Warrior's Cabals. One of the major differences between the FedCom and the Combine culturally is that we believe in individual guilt in the Judeo-Christian mold while your culture is much more collective with guilt assigned to family units."

Omi nodded thoughtfully. "Hai... although... how do you handle it? I mean..." The Kurita royal frowned, clearly grasping for a concept, "The power? Part of me did... does enjoy the feeling of knowing that the man who killed my brother will die horribly at my hands as my plans come to fruit. But I also know from experience and training that once you get a taste for blood, for that power to order men onward, to crush your enemies and have them vanished... how do you stop from going too far?" Omi looked haunted as she continued, "From only finding out that you have gone too far when the ghosts of a million widows and orphans appear and the ocean of blood that you spill is too great for one Coordinator to drink it all? I know that you do not have a Keeper of House Honor to whisper in your ear to try to pull you back from the brink."

Yvonne shook her head. "It is a good question. Some of my ancestors were monsters, I admit. I grew up hearing scary bedtime stories of Claudius the Cruel and then Great-uncle Alessandro if I did not eat my vegetables as a little girl. I guess for the Steiners, and the Davions too come to think of it, the secret is remembering that loyalty goes not just up to the apex like us, but also down and that if we are disloyal to those under our care, they have a moral duty to act to limit the damage we can cause."

She pointed at the statue. "Alexander Davion. Our greatest First Prince, he fought a civil war against his tyrannical aunts and unified the nation to take us into the Star League. Not because he was born to the throne, but because it was the right and necessary thing to do. He is kind of a bad example, I suppose, because that while I learned of him in school and from Dad's side of the family for me the personal example of what I owe my people is Jeana. When we go to Tharkad, remind me, and I'll take you to see her and tell her story, that will explain it better."

Omi smiled, "Something to look forward to then, Yvonne-chan."

Yvonne nodded. "Yes indeed. As for the test, I'm sorry that I had to be so rough, just... there will be many people who will object to your relationship with Victor. I'll stand by you and support you and him, but I didn't want to see my nation torn apart with purges or civil war thanks to you being a second Jinjiro. Not that you are, but I suspect that the Sandovals will call you that until you prove yourself to them."

Salomek, 2000 yards west of the “Crayon Factory”.
Sarna
Sarna Commonality
Capellan Confederation
April 19th, 3057

Another stinking day in this damn rathole. Sergeant Maria Detwieler scanned the street again through the scope of her accurized Federated Long Rifle. Like most scout-snipers in the Inner Sphere, she used the weapon she was most comfortable with, and for her, it was the Long Rifle. Eh, that new M-42 might be a real looker, but it’s a little too “modular” for my taste. Plus, ol’ Jake here hasn’t let me down yet. But will be nice to get back to the Battlegroup HQ, turn in my report, get a shower and some hot chow.

They’d been out for three days, doing a bit of outpost work for Alpha Regiment, giving a bit of help to the guys holding that pile of rubble they called the “Crayon Factory” and trying to stay one step ahead of the damn Capellans as they turned Salomek into something out of Dante’s Ninth Circle of Hell. The brigade had ten such two-man teams, and they’d all been busy doing a variety of things. One team had even made a try to wack Archie McCarron himself. Shame that went so badly, heard they did take down Marcus Barton. Good. I had friends at Fort Bourgogne. They’d picked a point that was pretty good, it was the remains of a shattered hovertruck whose remains had landed on top of a rubble mound overlooking the length of the street. A little work with the issue e-tool, and an IR scrambler net, and it was the perfect hidey hole. After three days, it was getting pretty rank, with their sweat and dirty uniforms chafing painfully against their bodies. Thank god my sense of smell is gone, I really hate to think what I smell like.  Her light brown skin was crosshatched with smudges of black and green camo paint, and grey smudges of crushed ferrocrete dust. Her eyes were bloodshot, she and her observer hadn’t gotten more than four hours of sleep a night, only the stim tabs and fear were keeping them both awake.

Been with the Rangers since Aldebaran, and I thought that was bad. What the hell did I know? The light from the burning buildings on either side of the shattered street was the only ambient light on this moonless night. The pops and hisses of burning material filled her ears, with the far-off rumble of heavy weapons fire completing the ambiance. I think I am getting too old for this. Sarah might be right, and it may be time to retire, assuming I live to see the end of this thing. She blinked her eyes and turned her head from her 10x Leopold-Zeiss scope for a moment, to regard her new spotter, her fourth in a period of three days. He was new, some kid from Novalya Zemlya who’d been a pretty good hunter back home, knew how to move quiet, and didn’t talk too much. Got the makings of a good scout, but he hasn’t earned the tab yet. Hope he lives long enough to fix that. I don’t even know his name. He had a large, wan face, with almond eyes that were pools of black in the poor light, framed by the lopsided camo netting that was draped over the issue helmet. His “footie pajamas” two-piece camo smock went over the rest, and made both look like shambling, formless apparitions. But with practice, you can move pretty good in this getup. Hope he lives long enough for that.

He was on his own weapon, an Intek Laser Rifle. It too had a scope, but he wasn’t using it currently, to rest his eyes. He had one hand on his weapon, while the other held a ration bar he was absent mindedly chewing on, going through the motions of eating. Though we’re both so damn scared and tired, hunger both gnaws at us, and means nothing at the same damn time? Shit. I really have been at this too long. Even my woolgathering is getting boring.
Detwieler didn’t like matching wits with Capellan snipers. They were damn good at what they did. House DiaDaiChi ran their sniper program, and it turned out some very talented snipers. Every Capellan sniper I ever killed, boy I had to work at it. And I suspect if McCarron’s got people out there, they’re just as good as the rest.

Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of Detwieler’s right hand. Trouble. Shit.

The sound was almost imperceptible. A soft crunch of gravel. It wasn’t a ‘Mech. Even the lightest of them had pretty loud footfalls, and most vehicles in the Inner Sphere made a ton of noise. Even the fusion engine stuff would make noise from the tracks or the wheels, and the hover stuff? Shit that hum you hear miles off. Nope..that’s dismounts out there…but where?

Detwieler reached out and tapped the kid, who startled, but had the presence of mind not to shout out. He looked at Detwieler with large eyes. Detwieler gave him a serious look, deftly pointed toward the street, and gave the hand and arm signal for “wait till I shoot” and “take the bastards from right to left, two shots only.” She didn’t have to tell him after that, they were going to displace and haul ass. Any scout-sniper who didn’t know that was a damn fool. Especially with that glorified flashlight of his. We’ll probably only get two shots then run before they find us and fix us.

She turned back to her sight, her reticule was manual, a rarity in the Inner Sphere, as most folks at least used a digital sight with laser RF support. Detwieler was something of a luddite. I learned to shoot on Broken Wheel with a beat up 7mm Federated Arms Carbine and Iron Sights, and I was bagging rabbits at 200 yards by the time I was ten. And I didn’t have a scope either. Not to mention the zero on that old thing was crap. Still managed to bullseye nine times out of ten. Detwieler slowed her breathing, she wanted to make sure the first shot was a good one. She knew they’d only get two, and anyhow..if she was really lucky, maybe there would be an officer? It’s fun shooting officers, most of them don’t have the sense god gave a drop bear.

More crunches of rubble and the sound of a soft curse as someone slipped on a precarious patch rang out over the slight breeze from the street. The sound was about 200 yards out to their front, and whoever they were, their noise discipline was pretty good for leg guys. They’re not a scout-sniper team, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one overwatching em. In fact, if I were them, I’d use these guys as bait to find someone like me.
Detwieler leaned down for a second and reached for a device on her wrist the size of a small noteputer. It was a short-range, text only comms unit that was issued one per team of two. It was conformal, a bit heavy, but Detwieler was used to the weight, so it didn’t affect her ability to place shots, and she quickly typed a message.

“RAMROD 2-2 TO KING SIX, HAVE ENEMY FORCE OF ESTIMATED ONE INFANTRY PLATOON IN SIZE 200 YARDS TO MY FRONT. WILL APPEND GRID REF TO MSG. PLAN TO ATTRIT, THEN RETREAT 1000 YARDS TO RV ZULU. REQUEST EXFIL SUPPORT AND GREETING FOR UNEXPECTED COMPANY, OVER?”

She then hit SEND, and the message went screaming back to the Regimental BG HQ, where she sincerely hoped someone was paying attention. Everyone is a bit busy these days. But they’re usually pretty good..the unit softly vibrated with a response to the message, the screen read:

“KING SIX TO RAMROD 2-2, APPROVE COA. GOOD HUNTING, WE WILL SEE YOU AT RV ZULU. EXPECT MECH LANCE TO MEET YOU WITH APC AT RV ZULU. CALL SIGN IS THOR THREE-THREE. HAVE YOUR ID PANELS ON! THREE-THREE HAS BEEN TOLD TO FIRE ON ALL DISMOUNTS NOT WEARING PANELS. SIX OUT.”

Lovely, thought Detwieler. Someone thought it was a good idea to tell some ‘Mechjocks that it’s ok to be even more trigger happy then they usually are. And when the hell are we gonna be able to slip on our ID panels while we are legging it with about 20-odd pissed off Capellans behind us? ******, this is going to be fun.

The sounds became more frequent, and shapes began to form in the darkness as Detwieler trained her rifle towards the source of a particularly loud crunch of rubble. The Leopold-Zeiss had good low light properties, and the 10x scope easily picked up a shape of a man in outline, caught against the light of a burning building. He was hunched over, his black form clutching the shape of a rifle as he moved carefully down the remains of the street. Surprised they aren’t moving from cover to cover, then again, perhaps they were told nobody was here. Oh well, makes my job easier. Or maybe some Capellan bastard with a Minolta 9000 is sitting out there waiting for me to make a mistake. Detwieler’s stomach began to drop, and her hands began to sweat. Shit, not the shakes. Not now. I always get nervous before it drops in the pot. It was the anticipation coupled with a side effect of the stim tabs, once she sighted in, she was fine, but the fact was, it was a sign she was going to be puking like she’d gone on a bender afterwards. The shakes always made her nauseous. And it’s a bitch to get that nasty metallic taste out of my mouth.

The shape prodded forward, timidly, down the left side of the street, dodging around a hole where an exposed water main jutted out from below like some sort of modern art sculpture, the water or sewage having long spewed onto the street. He was young, impossibly young, his equipment was immaculate, and his rosy cheeks contrasted in the firelight against the impossibly white skin of the rest of his face. He was looking all around him, a noise from what must have been an animal, or settling debris startled him as he nearly jumped out of his skin. Probably pissed off his squad leader, hence why somebody this young and obviously bad at his job is on point. Guess I will do this kid a favor. Not like I want him anyhow. Where’s your boss kid? Where is your NCO, or better yet, your LT?

More figures resolved themselves on either side of the street, they moved as quiet as they could, but some of their gear still jangled, and their feet shuffled. One man had a Kaskia Arms Light Machine Gun, good gun, but violent extraction issues, don’t grease the cartridges, and you wind up tearing the spent rounds in half..nasty jam to fix. Yeah, you and your loader go first.

She stole a glance at her loader and mouthed “shoot the loader for the machinegun”. The kid nodded and settled his laser rifle into his shoulder. Detwieler turned and began to breathe slowly as she settled her sight onto the face of the machinegunner. She noticed her target’s nose was running, the snot was slick in the light of the fire against his face. He cursed softly as he reached into his snivel gear bag on his right hip and produced a dirty hankie. He had turned slightly, it wasn’t as good of a shot…but Detwieler had a nice view of his temple. Ok, zeroed for 200 yards, wind is from the south at 1-2 knots. Yeah, right on the money.

Detwieler slowed her breathing more as her finger began to take up the slack on her trigger. She’d modified that instead of the normal 4lbs of pressure, her trigger slack broke at 2lbs. She liked it, it allowed her to do follow up shots in a hurry if she needed to. I always relocate after shot number two though. It’s a good habit I never, ever break.

The gunner coughed and put his dirty hanky back into his snivel bag, then began to move up to catch up with the rest of his squad as they carefully walked down the ruined street. His face was Detwieler’s world, and she began to squeeze the trigger. Her weapon was carefully braced on a small pile of rubble, and she’d taken a few shots to sight in. A night shoot like this didn’t get much better. She built up the pressure and let out a final breath, just as the slack broke and the weapon went off, as if by surprise, just like Detwieler was trained.

The 62 grain, 7.62mm x 55mm semi-armor piecing round covered the 200 yards in about half a second, and hit the Capellan soldier right in the forehead, plowing through his skull with sickening ease, and leaving an eruption of blood and brains out the back of his head where his helmet had a new hole, courtesy of the high velocity rifle round. He pirouetted, then fell with all the grace of a puppet with its strings cut, a rooster tail of blood filling the air as he fell. It all happened so fast, that the crack of the round and the report of the rifle were only heard a half-second after the gunner was hit. The casing extracted silently, with the only sound being a soft ping as it hit a bit of broken glass in the position.

Her spotter’s Intek lit the night up with a beam of coherent light that linked firer and victim in a line of death that caught the gunner’s number two, a short fellow with Asian features right in the middle of the chest. It was a classic center mass shot and the Intek plowed right though the armored vest, blowing a fist sized hole in the man, and leaving a small fire burning around the hole as he tumbled over face first into the street, dead before he hit the ground.  But their position had been given away. Not like we had time for him to zero something else before we set out, and hell, they were gonna know where we fired from sooner or later. Detwieler thought as she lined up another fellow, this guy was giving a bunch of obvious hand and arm signals. He didn’t wear any obvious rank, but he was yelling and gesticulating at folks to get under cover, fast.

Her next shot was hasty, but no less true, and it caught this target in the lower abdomen, and the round went right through the front of his body armor and sprawled him out in the street. He wasn’t dead though, as he immediately began to scream in Chinese. It was a mournful, horrible sound.  Detwieler hated this part of the job, leaving a wounded man out there to draw out more of the enemy. But it was a job, and she was good at it, no matter what others thought.

Her spotter dropped another random rifleman who got too adventurous peeking out from cover, and gave Detwieler a look as if to say time to go? She nodded, and grabbed her rifle, slithering out feet first from the hide and looking as the new fella followed her. She motioned him onward at a trot as they vanished into the ruined night, and the Capellans finally came alive, rounds beginning to ping off the ruined hovertruck in a futile attempt to kill them.
 
Sarna, Part 2
Attacking Units: 12th Vegan Rangers (all four regiments), 1st Kestrel Grenadiers

Defending Units: McCarron’s Armored Cavalry (all five regiments), Sarna Home Guard.

The fighting settled into a bit of a stalemate, as the Capellans began to reduce Salomek to rubble, block by painful block, both sides spending two weeks bleeding each other white as they lived like rats and killed each other in the ruined urban canyon of Salomek. By the end of April, both sides had lost upwards of 50% casualties, and the Salomek perimeter had stalemated.

General Stancel, commander of the 12th Vegan Rangers Brigade, was desperate to break the stalemate, and began to prepare an operation he codenamed “PUNCH DRUNK” to send a scratch force of light mechs and hover tanks to raid the McCarron brigade HQ in the outskirts of town, but he held that option in reserve, wanting only to commit it once McCarron relaunched offensive operations in earnest.

In other news, the 1st Kestrel Grenadiers detached their Armored Grenadier battalion and launched a raid on the Tengo Aerospace Plant on the continent of Becktal, which shut down the plant for three weeks, as well as savaged a battalion of the Sarna Home Guard.  The commander of the Guard in the wake of the raid, demanded more troops from McCarron, who was forced to detach a scratch battalion from volunteers from his other regiments to reinforce the 5th, who by now, had completely lost contact with the Kestrel Grenadiers (who were happily running rings around McCarron’s troops) and were repeatedly blundering into ambush after ambush.

11th Maskirovka Field Support Battalion
FOB Wuhan
Sarna
Sarna Commonality
April 23rd, 3057

 The tent itself was quiet as a tomb, the exception being the clacking of the keys from the noteputer of the clerk in the corner. All was to be properly recorded for the glory of the Capellan State, even it’s disappointments, such as these.

  Commander Ju-Shing Tai, president of the summary tribunal, sat down at the field desk he had been occupying since the Capellan State had returned Sarna to its warm embrace and opened the folder with the current caseload. It was long and promised a busy day all around. He nodded to the senior NCO and stated, “Bring in the first traitor, let’s get the day started properly.”

 A bedraggled young man of perhaps twenty was frog marched into the open area ten paces in front of the desk, he was in chains, both leg and arm irons. His face belied the scars of “coercive measures” yet his eyes burned defiance. This one could be…troublesome. Tai’s mind remarked.

  Tai opened the folder, and shuffled the papers, he didn’t need to read this man’s file. He’d studied up on the day’s cases as part of his morning routine, and for the most part, determined their verdicts. Some can be reclaimed by the Capellan State, this one, probably not. But we shall see.

 â€œCorporal Evgeny Rustakovich of Jensen’s Fire Lance, 2nd Company, 1st Battalion, The Wild Ones Regiment, McCarron’s Armored Cavalry. You stand accused of the following specifications of violations of the laws of conflict as stated in CCAF regulations, specifically, Articles 112 Cowardice in the Face of the Enemy, 291 Striking a Superior Officer, 301 Encouraging Defeatism, and 445 Insubordination. You stand accused of 1 specification each. The court has your legally extracted confession, but will entertain any mitigating circumstances, or pleas for mercy, before your legally mandated summary execution.”

 The figure sat and regarded Tai, then spat at him with all the fury he could muster, the gob of mucus and hate landing well short of the desk.

 â€œIt is good Corporal, that that missed. Otherwise I would add a specification of violation of Article 399, Assault on a Superior.”

 â€œGo ahead and shoot me, you bastard! You’ve already made your mind up, just do it!” stated the manacled Corporal, his Russian accent was evident, but slurred, obviously he was nursing a slight concussion from when they had extracted the confession.

 â€œOh, but the Capellan State will not suffer any slights, not from the likes of you, boy. No, we’re not just going to shoot you. We’re going to make your entire family Servitors, as obviously, such grievous disloyalty to the state had to be learned somewhere. And we cannot go rewarding such families. Isn’t your brother a Subcommander with the Red Lancers? I suppose they’ll adjust to being sharecroppers on a state farm on Yuris, dispossessed and all.”

 The Corporal’s eyes went wide. “You sonofbitch! You leave them alone!”

 â€œOr you’ll do what? Kill me? Like you tried to do to your lance commander?”

 â€œThat dumb bastard almost led us into an ambush. He should be the one on trial.”

 â€œHe would be, for gross incompetence and loss of Capellan State Property, but he had the good sense to die in the service of the state. You, you’re just going to die. But I will give you this chance. Sign this confession, and record a statement admitting full guilt, and any punishment will only fall upon you. You have my word as an officer of the Capellan State.”

 The Corporal’s face went pensive for a moment, then he nodded.

“Good, Corporal. I feel your sudden change of heart has some promise. Alright. I hereby sentence you to be reduced in rank to Recruit, and to be immediately turned over to the custody of the 191st Corrective Infantry Battalion, where you will serve either for a term of 1 year, or until you are wounded in the service of the state. Upon that time, you will be returned to regular service in the CCAF. Remember, Recruit, you can be shot for ANY infraction at any time by the NCOs and Officers of the 191st, so mind your behavior.”

The Corporal nodded and was dragged from the room in preparation for the next case.

The court manager, a Subcommander leaned over and whispered, “Are you really going to spare his family?”

“No, of course not. Have papers drawn up for all the males over the age of 14 in his family to be arrested and enrolled into the nearest Corrective Battalion. We cannot have this disloyalty gaining currency. Iron discipline and correct thought are the cornerstones of loyalty to the state.”

And on the day went.

 

And we have another omake by Yellowhammer of SB!

April 13th, 3057

Clan Nova Cat Warship Thunderbolt

Avon

Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

"Your defeat has been foreseen by the children of Drummond and Rosse, Smoke Jaguars! With what forces will you contest the inevitable course of Fate?"

Star Captain Sofia Rosse stood in the back of the flag bridge as Khan Severen Leroux spoke the ritual words of the batchall and sent it winging toward Avon at the speed of light. Her bones felt the vibrations of the trio of massive Carston Pegasus engines driving the battlecruiser after their words of challenge at the head of Alpha Galaxy's invasion flotilla .

Unconsciously she touched the fang of the nova cat that she had hunted as part of her sibko training that she now wore as a pendant for luck as she waited for the response.

She then chided herself for showing stress as her Clan went to honorable war and straightened her spine as she glanced at the holodisplay showing the map of the shared occupation zone and neighboring systems. Tendrils of shining blue marked with the codes of Alpha Galaxy leapt from their capital of Irece to hit Avon as the primary target of their prong of Operation CAT'S CLAW. Delta Galaxy's codes leapt from Jeannette to take Hyner, Kabah, Staplefield,and Jeronimo, linking two of the three 'pockets' of the Nova Cat occupation zone by ripping those worlds away from the faltering grasp of the Smoke Jaguars. Meanwhile Sigma Galaxy struck from Mualang to claim Yamarovka and Asgard, completing the link-up.

Involuntarily her eyes flickered to the angry scarlet of the Combine spinward and rimward as the battle computers redrew the map showing the best estimates of enemy strength and identification as picked trinaries performed 'informational raids' on the systems around Pesht to distract the Combine's eyes from the first stages of CAT'S CLAW and gather intelligence for the next stages. Then, unwillingly, her jade-green eyes turned anti-spinward to the ice blue and white of the Ghost Bears flanking the lone Nova Cat held world of Courchevel.

The Combine was distracted fighting itself and the blood-maddened Jaguars, so would be slow to react before the first wave attacks could happen and the preparations for the CAT'S FANG followups could be completed to isolate and take Pesht from the Combine. But what would the Bears do? Aff, sooner or later, they would stir and when they did... The Jaguars were showing once again the folly of a war on multiple fronts and unlike their blood enemies, the children of Rosse were able to learn and adapt to changing circumstances.

A chime sounded and Sofia snapped to attention, her thoughts refocused to the present as the galaxy map redrew itself to a blinking Smoke Jaguar symbol as the return message waited. The holodisplay flickered and revealed the face of the Smoke Jaguar commander of the garrison of their primary supply base as behind him visibly injured warriors moved around with unseemly haste. A helpful label at the base of the screen revealed his name as 'Star Colonel Paul Moon' as the dark-skinned Elemental scowled at the unwelcome message.

"You dare!", Moon snarled, his face mottling with rage. "Treacherous carrion-feeding freeborn scavengers, come and face us if you dare and we will eat your entrails, surats!" He picked up a half-full bottle of some amber liquid and threw it at the screen, which fuzzed and went black.

The Khan nodded to himself and spoke dryly. "Bargained well and done. If he wishes a grand melee to purge his worthless excuse for genes from the pool, so be it. Our reports indicate that the Third Jaguar Cavaliers are the primary garrison force as they reform with two or three trinaries reconstituting from their losses on Luthien with unblooded sibkos, second-line warriors brought forward in haste, and isorla salvaged from the battlefields there. Hardly their best but be wary, the Jaguar is never so dangerous as when it is dying. Proceed as planned."

-------------------------------------------

April 15th, 3057

Clan Nova Cat Assault Dropship Sacred Trust

Avon

Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

"Man your 'Mechs, Warriors!" Sofia ordered, unconcerned by the brutal 2G thrust the ship was laboring under at military power as it drove toward Avon. "We hover-drop at 10,000 meters, then form on me to advance onto the ridgeline over Stratford to provide fire support for the rest of the First Guards. as they lure the Cavaliers into a battle of mobility. They will attack in a blood rage like they always do, and then we close the jaws on them. They have called a Grand Melee, so concentrate fire by Stars to destroy them quickly and efficiently. Are there any questions, quineg?"

"Neg, Star Captain!"

"Seyla!"

With that, Sofia turned to the Mad Dog II waiting for her. At 60 tons, and braced on its backward-jointed 'chicken-walker' legs, it seemed deceptively fragile, explaining why the Spheroids called the older model a 'Vulture'. Appearances were deceiving as it had a full nine tons of advanced armor on its endo-steel bones as one of the first 'new model' Mad Dogs to walk off the Irece factory floors into the touman of the Nova Cats.

She surveyed the jet-black painted Omnimech proudly, her eyes drawn to the incandescent midnight purple starburst on the forward-jutting angular torso squarely between the twin missile racks that comprised the sides of the Mad Dog. Below the starburst her 'Mechs name was given as 'SOFIA'S VISION' in that purple paint with the first and last 'I' in the name as the slit eyed black pupils of matching neon green cat eyes. The arms were nothing more than a barrel for her preferred deadly accurate 10cm pulse lasers.

Satisfied, she turned to her Technician standing at the lift to take her to the top-mounted cockpit. "Honor to you and your crew, Technician Mara. She is beautiful, and a worthy steed for a ristar such as I. Now strap me in and we shall teach the Smoke Jaguars the lessons of war."

With Mara's help she lowered the neurohelmet over her braided shoulder-length blonde hair (part of the DNA from her Vickers genesire legacy that the Nova Cats had won rights to from the Wolves a century ago) and then gave Mara a handshake in thanks.

"Good hunting and good luck, Star Captain." The Tech spoke as the canopy began to lower.

"Skill and Honor, Mara." Sofia responded before the hatch closed. She then flipped the switches to bring Sofia's Vision to life. Static filled her ears briefly, and then the recorded voice of her primary sibko instructor, Warrior Mhari snapped at her in a no-nonsense tone that instinctively caused her to straighten.

"What is the first lesson, kitten?"

Automatically Sofia replied. "Clarity of purpose reveals the truth of all things through all veils."

"Reactor online, sensors online, weapons online. Honor us, Sofia Rosse."

Sofia's mind flashed back to the memory of the elderly face of her instructor as the ancient woman (nearly sixty!) sobbed in gratitude at the request to have her voice recorded to serve as a reminder of her training to the Clan's newest Bloodnamed warrior.

Sofia flicked on her command circuit and spoke. "Points, report status."

"Alpha Striker Deuce, all green." Sofia's eyes flicked across the mechbay to the ten-ton heavier Nova Cat Alpha with its humanoid body on the chicken-walker legs and the arms holding clusters of paired advanced 8cm lasers. Good, Alex is ready as our sniper.

"Alpha Striker Trey ready."

"Alpha Striker Quad ready."

Sofia nodded as the twins Hina and Risa chimed in from their Nova Cat Bravos. Unlike the Alpha, this Omni configuration had the laser barrels and heat sinks replaced with masses of long-ranged missile tubes and ammunition bins. The hammer to Alex's rapier.

"Alpha Striker Quint prepared for combat, Star Captain." The final member of her Star spoke softly from her Shadow Cat Prime. Star Commander Desha in her fifteen tons lighter wedge-shaped scout mech with the advanced electronics mated to the right-arm Gauss rifle and left-arm 5cm lasers would be their eyes and ears as they performed their mission. Despite her quiet voice and dainty appearance, Desha would fight like a soaking wet wildcat when the time came.

"Skill, trothkin. Stand by for orders." Sofia flipped channels. "Stars report status for combat deployment."

"Bravo Striker Star prepared for deployment. Already ahead of you, " Star Commander Nytara smirked at her commander in the viewscreen, toying with her matching fang necklace saucily. Clearly a 'friendly reminder' in the Circle of Equals to her sibkin would be in order before making the recommendation to advance her for the next available Guerette Bloodname.

"Charlie Nova combat capable." Nova Commander Mirka Winters' alto rumble sounded from her Elemental suit. The ice to Nytara's fire, Mirka would be the rock upon which the Jaguars would be broken.

"Remember the plan is there for a reason, quiaff? We fight as one, trothkin. Assume drop positions and deploy as planned."

"Aff, Star Captain!"

------------------------------------

April 15th, 3057

Devon Highlands

Avon

Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone

"Dragon, two o'clock! Two blips behind it, analyzing now." Desha's calm voice sounded in Sofia's ears as the first Smoke Jaguar 'mech crested the ridgeline ahead of them as a orange blob in the cool blues and greens of the rainstorm that they fought in. Cyan beams of light from her right skewered it as it oriented itself upon her as the apex of the triangle thrusting into the Jaguar flank.

A wave of heat evaporated sweat from Sofia's body as she stomped the right pedal down hard, fusion exhaust jets blasting as she dodged out of the way of a volley of missiles followed by an azure whip of lightning from the enemy heavy. Her hands moved to put her crosshairs on the rent Alex had just put in the barrel-chested 'mech's torso armor and even as missile explosions shattered armor along the left side of her Mech, her thumbs pressed the firing triggers. Rapid-fire bolts of violet light skewered the ex-DCMS Mech and it burned a brilliant white on her IR as the reactor shielding melted. Secondary explosions ripped the Mech apart as the missiles cooked off and the pilot ejected.

"Dragon neutralized. Report Desha." She snapped out, glancing at the amber dots on her armor diagram, and instinctively twisting to present her less-damaged right side to the advancing enemy.

"First one is assault weight. It is a stravag Warhawk. Second is heavy weight as well. 83% chance of an Guillotine IIC half a kilometer behind it."

"Aff. Pop and drop left to taunt the Warhawk to pursue over the ridgeline, Desha. Hina, Risa, fire once I have it marked, hammer it down. Alex, shift right and stand ready to engage the Warhawk once marked. Desha, report immediately if the Guillotine wishes to bid itself in before we finish with the Warhawk."

Sofia slammed the throttle to the stops to charge forward to the ridgeline as her subordinates' replies echoed in her head. Internally her gut twisted at the thought of being the first thing the enemy Assault would see upon clearing the obstruction, but needs must.

Sofia breathed in and out deeply to center herself as Desha's Shadow Cat rose vertically on plumes of fusion flame, firing the gauss rifle at the unseen Warhawk as soon as she cleared the ridgeline, before hastily cutting the jets. A trio of PPC bolts speared where she had appeared followed by missile trails diving toward the Shadow Cat as Desha evaded fire from a machine nearly twice her weight.

A furious female voice sounded over the speakers as the ground shook under 85 tons of war machine at full charge. "Cowardly surats! Face me, Star Captain Jez Howell, if you dare to oppose your betters!"

Time slowed as the block-shaped torso of the Smoke Jaguar assault appeared in front of her. Jez twisted slightly to face the advancing Mad Dog as steam rose where the rain hit her glowing-hot PPC barrels.

To Sofia, that moment between two heartbeats lasted for eternity. The curling wisps of steam rising from Howell's PPC barrels froze; the diamond perfection of the raindrops falling toward her cockpit halted with one exploding from her armorplast in a perfect Clan daggerstar; the sweat-dampness of her fingerless gloves gripping the control sticks was one with her skin. That eternity was easily enough time for her hands to move by themselves and settle the crosshairs on the shoulder joint of the Warhawk as Sofia stared into the rage-maddened eyes of the Smoke Jaguar Bloodnamed through the armorplast of their cockpits and saw into her with calm understanding and pity.

One did not hate a maddened animal that had to be destroyed, but merely regretted the necessity.

She pressed her thumb triggers again as time suddenly resumed, followed by her left index finger's trigger as she slammed both pedals to the floor, taking flight on jets of ion fire. Purple bolts of light hammered the thick hide of the Assault 'Mech in front of her, melting armor around the shoulder joint, followed by a small missile spread from her left side launcher.

Return fire slammed into her lower body as, surprised by a Mad Dog that could jump, the Warhawk pilot aimed too low. Two bolts of electricity converged on her right leg, savaging it and blowing the foot clean off as the third shot rocketed below her flying form and missiles crashed against her left leg.

The cockpit screens flickered and fuzzed with the electrical surge through her 'Mech while she gracefully landed like a nova cat two hundred meters from the Warhawk. Mhari's voice sounded in her ears as the static of the PPC discharges cleared up. "NARC beacon deployment successful." The bright scarlet IR signature of the Warhawk suddenly glowed with a blue highlight.

"Finish her, trothkin!" Sofia commanded sadly, as her hands clenched on both joysticks' finger triggers. Sofia's Vision shuddered in recoil as the Mad Dog II belched out a cloud of thirty SRMs from all her torso launchers that headed toward the siren song of the NARC beacon attached to the enemy mech. Behind her, Risa and Hina joined in with a hundred and eighty LRMs between them in a trail of fire and death linking their 'Mechs to the doomed Smoke Jaguar. The missile contrails were joined by Desha's Gauss slug and Alex's lasers as the combined firepower and teamwork of Alpha Striker Star, Fifth Striker Trinary, First Nova Cat Guards (The Hand of Fate) shattered Star Captain Jez Howell's Warhawk Prime like it were made of glass

More Omake from Yellowhammer....

Cat Fight Part 3


April 29th, 3057

Guest Quarters, Royal Palace

New Avalon

"Hello Katherine." Omi looked up from the bonsai cherry tree that she was examining in the apartment room that she had repurposed as a miniature garden. "I somewhat expected you to visit now that Victor-chan is on light duties and can handle some of your burden. I am glad that he can now be a pillar of strength for you, as you are for him and me."

Katherine walked over to Omi's workbench and leaned heavily against it. "I wish that I could come here just to talk to you. But I need your advice on matters of state. We just received word of events in the Combine that are... disturbing. If this continues, I will have to act."

Omi closed her eyes and sighed deeply before opening them to stare into Katherine's eyes, seeing a matching concern reflected within. "Shikata ga na. The same reports no doubt that were waiting for me with my morning tea."

Katerine nodded somberly as Omi took up a set of shears and prepared to cut through a flowering branch of the bonsai that was growing in variance with the Keeper of House Honor's aesthetic vision of the whole.

Omi positioned the shears against the wood and adjusted them minutely as she whispered in a voice choked with unshed tears. "Dover then?"

"Ja. Dover."

The cherry blossoms on the branch fell.

------------------------------------------------------

April 20th, 3057

Wairdel City

Dover, Kajikazawa Prefecture, Benjamin Military District

The spring rains that day were black as pitch. Soot from the fires that had ravaged the city and were now barely under control in several districts as well as fallout from the nuclear weapons detonations at the factories in the industrial suburbs of Onyx and Kalkedony had tainted the rain.

Destroyed Battlemechs littered the rubble-strewn-streets of one of the major industrial centers of the Combine. Some were painted the camouflage of the 6th Benjamin Regulars. More were the charcoal gray of the Ryuken. Most were the flat red of the Sword of Light, the elite of the DCMS.

Tai-sa Kiyomori Minamoto gasped in pain as one of the faceless infantrymen in chermical warfare gear forced him along at the head of the column of survivors of his Teak Dragon and the Jade Dragon with a ungentle rifle butt. Fire sped through his body in a wave from where it impacted his broken collarbone from where he had ejected from his Hatamoto-chi just ahead of the ammunition explosion that had claimed Flower-gatherer and he half stumbled, his shackled hands twitching helplessly as he shuffled along in his leg cuffs.

A turn in the road, and he saw one of the few undamaged buildings ahead with guards around it along with a lone battlemech in the gray of the Ryuken. One of his eyebrows twitched behind his stoic facade as he identified the hulking 'mech as a new Naginita command Mech, with clear fresh repairs from the savage combat of the last three days to go with the soot patterning the three heavy missile racks that it was equipped with.

"Inside traitor!" With that punctuated with another rifle butt to the back from the ashigaru infantry he was forced through the loading dock door and gagged at the stench within. Merciful Buddha, what died here, it is worse than....

His thoughts whirled to a halt at a memory of a celebration after his decoration with the Order of the Dragon for his successful defense of Luthien in 3052. He had traveled to a vacation estate on Annapolis then, to live as his ancestors would as samurai on distant Terra during the Shogunate. The stench brought back memories of those moments when the wind turned there to the high-tech castle where he had stayed. It reminded him of the the scent from the fields where gaijin peasants used their own waste to fertilize the rice paddies in the traditional way with ox-plow and hand carts...

A sudden stabbing light filled his eyes as the door behind the last of his men boomed shut. Blinking tears out of his eyes, he saw the dim shape of a large cistern where some sort of fencing had been removed from around it. A figure stood in front of the spotlight, and his eyes adjusted enough to see that it was a woman clad in the ceremonial robes of the Coordinator. Her amplified voice echoed in his ears.

"Put them in! Officers last!"

Chaos followed as with cattle prods, savage blows, and brute force teams of infantry grabbed one prisoner after another and threw them over the low edge of the cistern to land with a strangely muffled plop in whatever lay beneath. Called out prayers, screams, and shouts of defiance followed from it, and soon fell silent.

Minamoto stood stoically as the double handful of junior officers soon followed, until he stood alone. As the infantry approached him, he bowed to the shadowy figure and then shuffled forward to the cistern of his own accord. He spoke in a calm voice into the ringing silence.

"Kurita Miyako, I presume?"

A fractional nod answered him.

"That which blossoms/falls, the way of all flesh/in this world of flowers" he spoke calmly as he saw the vat of human excrement and sewage that his men had drowned in waiting for him. "I die so that the Combine may live. Sayonara, Kurita-san."

With that he dove headfirst to his awaiting doom.

--------------------------------------------------

Omi placed the shears down beside the cherry tree and took a deep breath before picking up a watering can. "I do not know what happened to Miyako-chan, Katherine-chan. I can speculate...."

Katherine spoke quietly, "Please do. Of all of us, you are the only person who knew her. If any of us can truly know someone else."

Omi tested the moistness of the soil in the pot with her fingertip as her brows narrowed in thought. "If I had to speculate, she loved her father...Uncle Isoroku... dearly. Seeing... what happened on Benjamin to him and Minoru-chan may have..."

Omi trailed off and bit her lip before carefully watering the soil. "Far be it for me to say ill of my kin, but love and hatred are closely aligned, neh? We both know, both feel, the demon within that cries out for blood, to feast on others' pain to satisfy the ache in our souls that can never be sated save with the sight of those who have gone onward before us."

Katherine nodded slowly, her voice shadowed. "Like I felt when I saw what happened to Kali Liao on my orders. But you and I both know what happens if our will loses control of our demons. Like Claudius the Cruel or Jinjiro did."

"Hai. Like Jinjiro on Kentares."

--------------------------------------------------

April 30th, 3057

Stratford

Avon

Nova Cat Occupation Zone

Star Colonel Sofia Rosse took her neurohelmet off as the canopy of her Mad Dog II unsealed. She breathed in the cooler air of the Mechbay then smiled at the two techs coming to assist her out of the cockpit after the all-day field exercise.. "The replacement hip actuator and left side fire-control linkages work perfectly Mara, Judith. They are as quick to respond as an Ice Hellion's ability to leap to conclusions. Unfortunately, my left side laser is tracking improperly, my shots were a half-meter wide."

The technicians smiled at each other as they helped her to the lift. "We shall correct the laser focusing. A message from the Khan for you came while you were on exercise." With that, Mara handed over a tablet.

Sofia's smile widened as she saw the scarred face of Trent - the reason that Sofia's Choice has needed the new hip actuator and the left side had to be rebuilt thanks to their duel last week where she had tracked down the two Stars that he had manged to lead in a breakout from the pocket where the Jaguar Cavaliers were destroyed. Claiming him as my isorla was wise, he uses his head for more than supporting his shoulders. He will make a strong abtakha for the Clan. She tossed her neurohelmet underhand to Trent, who automatically caught it.

"Assist the Technicians in their checks of Sofia's Choice, Trent. My left side laser is not zeroed properly, so I order you to take her out to the firing range and correct that under their direction."

With that command and her turn away to show a 'blind eye' to the ex-Smoke Jaguar's glee at doing a Warrior's work, she unlocked the tablet.

MESSAGE BEGINS
From: Khan Severen Leroux
To: Star Colonel Sofia Rosse, CO 1st Nova Cat Guards.
Subject: Preliminary Orders.

Report status of the Hand of Fate immediately. Forward projections of strength for 10, 20, and 30 days after recieipt of message to Khan's office. Begin preparation and planning for assault on Meinacos as part of Operation CAT'S FANG WAVE ONE. Latest DCMS intelligence survey included as attachment. MESSAGE ENDS