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Lords of the Isles

An Alternate Universe for the BattleTech Setting

By

Stephen T Bynum


Prologue

Hall of the Khans
Katyusha City, Strana Mechty
March 15, 3002

Kerlin Ward frowned as the final vote was tallied and he shook his head.  Damn Nadia!  Damn her to the worst and most painful Hell imaginable!  For three years, he had fought the Ghost Bear née Wolf who had risen to the rank of Khan in her adoptive Clan.  He knew that she disagreed with him, but her passion for the positions held by the Crusaders had only grown in that time.  Still, he had nearly managed to divert her—nearly.

His compromise—the so-called Dragoon Compromise—should have passed; it should have satisfied the moderates who wanted more intelligence.  And it had.  Oh, it had, Kerlin thought.  But then she had started a new debate.

“My Khans,” she had said.  “This expedition is too important to detail to a single Clan, even one as illustrious as the Wolves who hold the Blood-name of Nicholas Kerensky himself.  The Reconnaissance Force must be comprised of volunteers from EVERY Clan, although I will support the proposal that will place Star Colonel Jaime of Wolf in command.”

Damn her!  Jaime believed as Kerlin did, that the purpose of the Clans was to protect the Inner Sphere; to return once they could extend a helping hand in friendship and honor, restoring the Star League in cooperation.  But now?  Now he would be hampered with Warriors from every single Clan—which put Kerlin in a quandary.  How will these Warriors respond if I have to issue an order for Jaime to prepare the Inner Sphere for our coming?  But at the least, they will have no easy way to communicate that fact back to the Homeworlds.

He turned his attention back to the well where the vote had been completed.  Oh, he could declare a Trial of Refusal—but at 32-2, odds of Sixteen-to-One, he could not stop it from happening.  Now he did smile behind his mask.  It would take a year to train the Dragoons, to equip them with ‘Mechs, fighters, tanks, and DropShips from the oldest SDLF caches.  Two years more for them to make their way to the Federated Suns via a circuitous route.  And then, his smile broadened, the Plan called for Jaime to spend five years in service with each of the Great Houses, one after the next.  Collecting intelligence all the while.  It would be 3030 at the earliest before he dispatched his final report—and a decade more before it could be acted upon.

And his opponents knew that as well; it infuriated some of them.

“My Khans,” the soprano voice of Nadia called out from the well, “my Khans.  Trothkin,” she said with a smile, her mask sitting on her desk next to her saKhan.  This is a great moment, but the moment is not finished.  I would call upon Khan Truscott of Clan Star Adder to brief you on a second proposal which I intend to submit for a vote.”

Alan Truscott stood and he made his way to the well.  What the Hell? Kerlin thought.

“Brothers.  Sisters,” Alan Truscott said with a crooked grin on his face—the long scar he bore on his left twisting and bunching as the muscles pulled against the injured tissue gained in combat long ago.  “Gathering information is all well and good, but there is another matter which we must consider—distance.  We lie here in the Homeworlds six months from our closest targets . . . six months with Lithium-Fusion batteries.  A year otherwise.  And once we invade, the distance will only increase to the front-lines.  We must look to the future, my Khans.  We must build a forward operating base from where we can launch and supply this invasion when it comes.”

Murmurs raced across the Hall, as the Khans and saKhans began to whisper, some with caution and others with excitement.  “The Chainelane Isles,” Truscott continued as he activated a holographic projection.  “This will be our base of operations.  We must dispatch a force to seize the Isles, while keeping the Inner Sphere in the dark of our future plans.  Militarily, the Isles pose no threat, but logistically, they will be invaluable to our cause.  We must seize them, we must fortify them, we must build up our infrastructure, and we must make of them our depot worlds.  It will take decades to accomplish this task—but then so will the Reconnaissance Operation in the Inner Sphere.   While these Dragoons compile their reports on the state of the Inner Sphere and their military, we will not be doing nothing—we will be preparing for the days ahead when our progeny fulfill our Legacies by restoring the Star League!”

Kerlin’s jaw fell in shock.  But his voice was drowned out in a chorus of cries and excitement, and he made himself sit back down.  No!  He slammed his fist against the desk.  Give the Clans a base that close and I cannot prevent this Invasion.

And then he noticed the sound of his fist against the polished wood had quieted his fellow Khans.  Sighing he rose.  “The Isles are still a year away, Khan Truscott.  Our communications would still be limited to HPG buoys and if those troops were discovered, we open ourselves to defeat in detail!  AND, we risk showing them the path to the Homeworlds!  No, we cannot risk this.”

And many of the Khans present murmured again, some in agreement, others not so much.  But Alan Truscott’s scar wrinkled again and he nodded.  “Indeed, Khan Ward.  Which is why we are going to undertake a project which the Great Father himself would have stood in awe of.”  The Adder Khan activated the controller once more and a chain of pulsating dots appeared in the hologram.  “The Aaron DeChavillier Corridor, connecting the systems of Dagda in the Pentagon and Ingvolstand in the Isles, with thirty-three way-stations positioned one every 27.46 light-years between the two systems.  This project will require personnel and resources from all of the Clans—as well as the strategic reserve of all four Newgrange-class vessels currently stored under the watchful eye of the Ebon Keshik.”

“Khan Howe?” he turned to the leader of the Snow Ravens.

The old man rose and he nodded—but he did not bother to remove his mask.  “We have been told that these Dragoons must have time to accomplish their mission—time to examine in detail the Inner Sphere and learn their weaknesses.  We are told that it will take three decades, perhaps four, before we can contemplate launching the Invasion.  I tell you, trothkin, that given that amount of time, we have can have the Aaron DeChavillier Corridor and all way-stations complete and operational.  Stationing two flights of JumpShips at each waystation and at both Ingvolstand and Dagda, we can cut transit times from the Homeworlds to the Isles from six months to just under seventeen hours.”

Startled whispers broke out from among the Khans, and Howe nodded.  “And we can accomplish two such journeys a week.  But the undertaking will be immense—the Ravens cannot, and will not, do it alone.”

Truscott and Howe sat back and down and Nadia stood alone in the silent well.  “Do we accomplish nothing over the next three decades, my Khans, other than fighting amongst ourselves—or do we prepare to take our rightful place as the Lords of the Star League Reborn?”

A standing ovation erupted—even from those who hated Nadia—and Kerlin ground his teeth in frustration.  “WAIT!” he bellowed as he rose to his feet.  “We must study these plans and examine them; we cannot be called upon to vote on a matter of this importance without time to examine every single detail!”

Nadia smiled and she nodded.  “Khan Ward is correct.  I would suggest that we adjourn for a week so every Khan might examine the proposal of Khans Truscott and Howe in detail.  Is there a second?”

But before Kerlin could answer, Gordon Myers, the Khan of Clan Goliath Scorpion stood.  “One more issue needs to be considered before we adjourn, Khan Winson.”

“And what might that be, my Scorpion friend?”

“We must elect an ilKhan to head this project—and to exert unilateral control over the Dragoons.”

Absolute silence filled the hall at the sudden pronouncement.  A Diamond Shark rose to his feet and he shook his head.  “There has not been an ilKhan since Tobias Khatib was removed from office and executed for treason!”

“In 2947, Khan Horn.  Fifty-four years, eight months, and seven days have passed without an ilKhan.  And we have stagnated, become complacent, fight among ourselves more than we did under their rule.  But now we ponder the Return that Kerensky the Great Father foretold for us.  That he promised us was our Right.  My Khans, the time has come to have an ilKhan once more—and there is no one present who could serve as well as Nadia Winson.”

And with, the Scorpion sat as silence reigned over the Hall again.  And Khan Truscott rose and he nodded.  “I second the motion, and move that we acknowledge the new ilKhan by acclamation.  All in favor say AYE!”

“AYE!” the Khans shouted before Kerlin could react.

“Those opposed say NAY,” Truscott continued his eyes locked on the Wolf Khan.  But no one spoke, and Kerlin snarled behind his mask and held his tongue.

“Then this Council is adjourned until tomorrow, when the Loremaster of the Clans will administer the Oath to ilKhan Nadia Winson, seventh to bear that title.  Hail the ilKhan!”

“HAIL!” the Khans roared as they rose and gave salute, and if Kerlin could be happy at one small fact it was that Nadia appeared as stunned as he was.