OBT Forum

Hmmm...why not move to Loxley? It is not as distant as some of the other worlds and is home to Norse-Storm BattleMechs Inc., one of the few manufacturing centers not yet targeted by the Clans.
Furthermore Griff Storm is a Lyran patriot.

Ciao
Hessian

All very good points Knightmare but your post has bought something of an outside option to mind. Yes Melissa would want to stay in the Lyran State which is why my best suggestion is Bolan by way of Gallery. Bolan was a Provincial Capital of the Protectorate of Donegal prior to the FedCom when it became a March Capital. As such it is the only Lyran (Regional) Capital World left unoccupied by the Clans. Not sure of the HPG on world but an A Class Station would be a good starting point for any Provisional Capital World.

Anyway if you'd like to go outside the box there are two options. The capital of the Periphery March (not even sure what it is or if one was ever established) might be too much of a reach but try this on for size. Sarna. Technically it is Lyran territory, Melissa was the ruler before she ascended the Archonship, it is farther from the Clan line of advance and closer to New Avalon.

One nitpick with getting farther away. The Clan assaults were in most cases extremely deep, largely undetected, and most damming of all UNSTOPPABLE. There is a certain futility of trying to outdistance them at this point. You have to be true to yourself and stick to what you know so I wouldn't get to cute as of yet.

May 1, 3051
Planetary Flight Control Center
Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation

“How’s Marina doing?” asked Gregor McCall as he activated the diagnostic program on the deep-space radar system that guarded Sian’s approaches. 

His coworker grimaced.  “She’s swollen like a blimp; and I made the mistake of telling her that last night.”

Gregor leaned back in his comfortable chair and swiveled to face Ivan Kalinin, shaking his head.  “I’ve told you, comrade, absolute truth is not a good thing for marriage—sometimes it is best for a white lie or two.”

“Da.  I am learning that—or rather my back is after sleeping on the couch.”

Gregor chuckled.

“Other than being the size of a beached whale,” Ivan continued, “she is fine.  We just have another three weeks, according to the doctor’s, and then she should start labor.”

Gregor nodded as the computer monitor finished preparing for the diagnostic, and flashed a question on the screen:  (F)ull/(P)artial?

Contrary to the procedures, Gregor hit the F key, and the entire deep-space array went into a self-diagnostic loop.  Holding down another combination of three keys, he pulled up an archive file of last night’s sensor images, with today’s date and time-stamp superimposed on the monitor.

“Well, hopefully it will be a better world for your daughter, Ivan,” the member of Free Capella said softly as he turned to smile at his co-worker again.

“A better world?  With a daughter that will probably be as beautiful as my wife?  I will be lucky to avoid prison from shooting her suitors in a few short years.”

“Ah, yes, Comrade Citizen Space Controller,” Gregor answered very formally.  “It is the universe’s revenge on every father that he has a daughter of his own, especially since he knows all too well how the male of the species behaves at that age.”

“I have seriously considered sending her to a convent for her schooling, Gregor, but Marina gives me an evil look every time I bring it up.”

“That, my friend, is an argument you are not going to win,” Gregor laughed as he noted the sudden appearance of several JumpShips and DropShips on an auxiliary monitor—and disabled the alarm.

“I fear you speak the truth,” Ivan said glumly.  “She already has plans for Sasha to be a cheerleader—a cheerleader!  I will have to threaten the entire boy’s athletic program, I fear.”

“Well, look on the bright side, Ivan,” Gregor said as he finished reprogramming the system.  “You won’t have to pay room and board during your final years—the State will provide them for you!”

The two men laughed as several dozen DropShips—detected by no one else as of yet—drew closer and closer to Sian.

May 1, 3051
DropShip Archimedes
Outbound, Sian
Capellan Confederation

“Any response from Flight, Wes?” Ship Commander Jin Teng asked as he stared at the dozens—scores—of icons on the radar display.

“Just the same automated message, Sir.  This is an unscheduled military exercise; maintain radio silence and normal operations.”

Jin frowned.  Military exercise my ass, he thought to himself.  That many DropShips would be at least a fifth of the entire Capellan ‘Mech force!

“Are we still in comm range of the planetary net?”

“Barely, sir.”

“Then place a ship-to-surface call to this number, Wes.”

“Sir, that is contrary to protocol—everything has to go through Flight Control, you know the regs.”

“Damn the regs, man!  Place the call.”


May 1, 3051
Senior Officers Housing, Capellan Hussars
Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation

The shrill tone of the phone rang a third time, and Colonel Marius Teng pulled himself out of a deep sleep, frowning at the red digits on his clock that read 02:11.

“Teng.  And you had best have a damn good reason for waking me.”

“Are you running an unscheduled exercise with DropShips, Marius?” his brother asked through heavy static.

“Jin?  What the hell are you talking about?”

“Brother, I’ve got thirty-plus Droppers heading for orbital insertion up here, and all Flight,” static broke up the transmission, but then it cleared, “. . . exercise.  Are you running one?”

Marius Teng felt a chill running through his body.  “Get your ship clear, Jin, I’ve got some calls to make.”

He hung up the phone, and quickly dialed a number from memory.

“Headquarters, Capellan Hussars, Sergeant Monroe speaking.  How may I assist you?”

“Teng, here.  Send the Regiment to alert status, Sergeant—this is not a drill.”

“Yes, sir,” the NCO answered.   â€œAuthorization?”

“Quebec Sierra Seven Two Three Romeo Bravo Two One.”

“Confirmed,” Marius heard the NCOIC answer as the warning klaxon began to wail in the background.

“Tell Major Bernadotte to prepare to for immediate action against hostile troops dropping from orbit; I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

Without waiting for a reply, Marius hung up again, and dialed a second number.

“Sian Aerospace Control.”

“Scramble the alert fighters and get the rest of the wing moving,” Marius said as he began to pull on a pair of trousers.

“Excuse me?”

“This is Colonel Teng of the Red Lancers!  We have hostile DropShips inbound, Sian!”

“Colonel, you don’t have the authority to order this, only Chancellor Liao can . . .”

“Son, you have two choices.  Scramble those fighters now, or your XO will scramble them after a squad of Death Commandoes shoots your ass in the middle of your own Command Center!  Now move!”

For a second, and then two, only silence answered Marius.  But then a voice whispered into the phone, “Alert fighters launching now.”

Teng dropped the phone and began to pull on his boots, as his wife shook the sleep from her head.  “What’s going on?” she asked.

The Capellan stood, stomping his heel on the floor to seat the boot correctly, and began to buckle on a pistol belt.   â€œWake the children and get to the shelter, Ann.  Don’t come out until the all-clear sounds.”  Without another word, Teng hurried to the door and left.

Nice, the Battle of Sian has begun!

May 1, 3051
Courtyard of the Celestial Palace
Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation

Marius Teng swore as he saw the colors painted on the BattleMechs entering the far side of the Plaza.  Already, elements of his command had reported contact with the 1st and 2nd St. Ives Lancers, the Cheveau Leger, the Cuirassiers, the Iron Hand, and the Mounted Fusiliers.  And now, he had visual confirmation on elements of all four of the Northwind Highlander Regiments!  Gods, what a cluster-fuck, he thought as he shook his head.  He had never dreamed that Candace would throw the dice like this—even though he had once served alongside her.

The defenders of the Forbidden City had done their best to hold back the storm, but the armored battalions and infantry companies had melted away in the pre-dawn hours.  The Lancers were still fighting, but even with the Death Commandoes alongside of them, they were seriously outmatched.  And where the hell was House Imarra?

He swiveled the torso of his Cataphract and looked over the remnants of his 1st Battalion; about five lances strong, reinforced with six Death Commandoes.  There was nowhere else to fall back to, not with the Palace directly behind him—and Chancellor Liao refusing to leave.  And as he watched the St. Ives Armored Cavalry joining the Highlanders in surrounding him, he knew that is was too late to run anyway.

“Here we make our stand, brave Capellans!” Marius heard Major Sebastian Cowell over his radio and winced.  How the hell that bastard commissar had avoided being killed in the fighting was a mystery.  He was Romano’s pet, that one, and a member of her Thugee death cult, assigned to his command lance in order to ‘advise’ Marius on the proper way that a Capellan Regiment was run.  “They shall fall before us, for we serve the Celestial Light of Heaven!” the ass brayed.

Marius started to snarl, but then he saw one battle scarred Vindicator emerge from the St. Ives ranks on the far side of the plaza.  An old Vindicator, but one painted in the hunter green of the House of Liao, and emblazoned with the bronze and jade emblem of the Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation.

His radio hissed with static for a moment, and then he heard her voice.  “Marius,” Candace Liao said.  “You can’t stop me, not with twenty-six ‘Mechs, you can’t.  Lay down your arms and I give you my word—as Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation—that you and your men will be paroled with honor, and accepted back into the ranks of the Hussars once my sister has been removed from the throne.”

“Kill that traitorous whore, Colonel Teng,” Cowell screeched over the open radio link.  “Kill her and they shall break!”

Marius clenched his fist and began to move his Cataphract forward, his sense of survival warring with his oath and his duty to the House of Liao; but then his eyes fell on the picture of his wife and their two children.  And he imagined them growing up in a Confederation run by Romano and her quisling thugs hungering for slaughter.  He opened the comm channel and set it general broadcast.

“Red Lancers, this is Teng.  Power down your ‘Mechs and exit your cockpits—that is a direct order.”

“You traitor!” Cowell howled, as he swiveled the torso of his Crusader towards the Colonel, but the commissar’s ‘Mech suddenly staggered forward and fell as an AC-20 exploded into its back.  Directly behind the commissar stood a Centurion in the colors of the Death Commandos, the muzzle of its autocannon smoking from the heat of the shot.

“I never liked that son-of-a-bitch anyway, Colonel Teng,” the young warrior piloting the ‘Mech said over the radio as he stepped up and fired a second burst directly into the cockpit of the downed Crusader.

“Thanks for the assist, Sub-commander Jaffray.  Chancellor Liao,” he broadcast across the plaza, “the Red Lancers yield.”


May 1, 3051
Celestial Palace
Forbidden City, Sian
Capellan Confederation

Candace marched into the throne room behind her troops, most of whom immediately knelt and aimed at the infantry who were waiting for them.  A mix of Death Commando and House Imarra stood in the great hall of the Celestial Throne, armed with lasers and blazers predominately.

“Ah, dear sweet Candace returns to us, children,” her sister Romano crooned from her seat on the throne.  At her left hand stood Master Rush, while on her right there was Kali.  Romano’s paramour, Tsen Shang stood along slightly behind Kali, with Romano’s son Sun-Tzu beside him.

“All we need now, is for poor little Tormano and we would have a family reunion, sister,” Romano said as she stood.  “You see, my guards captured your son Kai late yesterday afternoon while he was organizing a seditious attempt to overthrow my realm!”

Candace’s eyes narrowed as two guards dragged in her own son, badly beaten, but still alive.  Her heart raced, but she knew that if she showed any weakness, Romano would pounce.

“Quite a reunion, indeed, sister,” the Duchess of St. Ives said in voice that showed no concern at all for her son, even as her heart was breaking.  “I brought my Cavalry to the ball, along with the Highlanders—you do remember them, do you not?”

“Those traitors!” Romano spat.  “They abandoned Father and I when we most needed them, and for what?  For the gift of a planet?  To serve a Davion?  Hanse could never be trusted—he is insane, you know.”

“They agreed to aid me, because it seems that you attempted to kill their Council of Elders, Romano.  Although your assassin failed.”

“We all die, Candace,” the Chancellor answered simply as she sat back down.  “Just as all of you will die today.”

Colonel William McLeod, the commander of the Highlanders spat on the polished floor.  “Just let me shoot her, Chancellor Candace.  She’s crazy as bat-shit.”

Romano bolted back to her feet.  “Chancellor?  CHANCELLOR!  You will never assume such a title, you Davion-loving slut!  You will all die today,” she shrieked as she pointed at vents on the walls of the hall.  “I have but to give the command, and a poison gas will be released within the throne room, within all of the Forbidden City.  I—and those loyal to me—have been given the antidote, sister.  But all traitors and whores will die!”

Several of the House Imarra troopers and Death Commandoes lowered their weapons and stared at their Chancellor in horror.  None of them wore chemical suits.

“You would kill a million Capellans to hold onto the throne, Romano?”  Candace asked softly.

“I would kill them all if they do not serve me well, and in allowing you into my presence, they have all failed me.”

Candace nodded.  “In that case, dear sister, may you find your own peace in death.  Master Rush?  Do your duty to the State.”

Romano frowned, and began to turn towards the stocky Master of House Imarra with the clean shaven head, even as Tsen shoved past Kali and Sun-Tzu to rush to her side—but both were too late.  Rush’s sword flashed out and severed Romano’s neck, and the back-hand sweep tore through Tsen’s throat in a bright arc of blood.  Kali screamed and pushed Kai down, sweeping up a needler in her grip; the flechettes screamed across the room and tore into Rush’s arm.

She dropped the weapon and dove for a control wand that had fallen from Romano’s grasp, and a dozen heavy rifle slugs—some from the St. Ives contingent, some from the Death Commandoes—ripped into her body. 

“Get your bonnie boys and girls moving, William, and disarm those gas bombs.  You!” Candace yelled as the Highlander hastily nodded and began to jog out of the throne room.  She pointed directly at Sun-Tzu.  “Where are they boy?”

“You will address me, as Chancellor Liao, Duchess and Aunt.  You abdicated all claim to this throne long ago—and I am guilty of no crime.”

“I asked you a question,” she growled as she walked forward, and Sun-Tzu swallowed heavily.  "Consider yourself lucky, nephew, if I don't simply decide to end Romano's line here and now.  I've wrested the throne from a mad-woman, I'm not about to hand it over to a teenager who has never done a day of military service in his life."

Sun-Tzu couldn't meet her fiery gaze, and he looked away, whispering, “She has them positioned throughout the city, in case of a coup attempt.  There is a map in her private quarters.”

“Take him into custody,” Candace barked as she knelt next to her son Kai who lay on the cold stone floor.

He raised his bloody and swollen face, and cracked a grin.  “What took you so long, Mom?”

Finally she got what she deserved. Want more of this great story.