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Not yet. I'm working on completing the FWL Civil War arc, hopefully I'll be close to finishing this book by the end of April

None of the characters whose viewpoints I have written know what's happened to her. There were sporadic sightings of what may have been the Lucien Davion (the warship she's believed to have escaped on) but she never turned up to take up the reins. It's one of the major reasons Peter was able to crush her support and win the rest of the Civil War so quickly.

Chapter 29
Kirin River, Irian
Silver Hawks Coalition, Free Worlds League
29 January 3066

Without Isis being present, her palace felt different. While military basing was being opened up for the SLDF, their first priority was for housing troops and they were currently overflowing into the officer quarters of the available housing. Isis had left permission to use her palace, save for her personal apartments, so Galen had brought the SLDF headquarters echelon there.

While the rooms had been busy before while she was using it to arrange her neutrality pact, the involvement of soldiers had changed it somehow in Galen’s eyes. It felt almost intrusive.

“I don’t claim to know why, but we’ve had raids on Savannah, Miaplacidus and Alphard,” General Mountash admitted, indicating the worlds on the holo-map in what had been Isis’ command centre previously. “Savannah, I could understand if they’d gone for the Technicron factories, but they were targeted at infrastructure - damaged bridges and water ports that’ll cost millions to repair and impair civilian trade and shipping more than anything else.”

“The same on the other two worlds?” asked Colonel Elizabeth Nichole. The Wolf Dragoons wouldn’t be on Irian long, they’d been penned in to move up to join the protection of the original Silver Hawks provinces between Stewart and the Federated Commonwealth, but Irian was a convenient staging area so Epsilon regiment was basing there until shipping was available for the next leg of their journey.”

Mountash nodded in annoyance. “Our best guess is that they’re intended to affect public support, trying to undermine the new Coalition by suggesting that we can’t protect our civilians from Corinne Marik’s forces.”


“Are you sure she’s behind it?” Galen enquired. He really hadn’t thought that she’d pick a fight on this border when she was barely holding onto a sliver of Atreus and other worlds around the League capital were under threat.”

“It’s the Eleventh Atrean Dragoons,” the general confirmed flatly. “Not just their colours, we could match their specific ‘Mechs to our last information on their composition. And all three of the targets so far are within a jump of Marik, which is where they’re based.”

Nichole grunted unhappily. “We can divert to reinforce the garrisons of those worlds,” she warned. “But our contract with the SLDF is specific: I can’t lead my regiment in offensive actions against the claimants to the Captain-Generalcy.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Alys Rousset-Marik spoke up firmly. “You’re doing more than enough, and Lord Kurita’s decision to send the Second Genyosha will help us secure those worlds. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let the Eleventh target our civilian population, even with low casualty strikes like this.”

“What are you planning?” Kelian Brackey looked unhappy. This was a sister regiment of his own, after all - even if the Twelfth Atrean Dragoons were temporarily serving as the White Saber regiment of the Silver Hawk Irregulars.

Alys stabbed a finger at the highlighted marker for Marik. “The Eleventh won’t have forces to spare for raiding us if they’re forced to defend Marik. I’ll take my Krushers and the Eagle Regiment across and make it look as if we’re trying to take the world. Put them on the defensive.”

“The best defense is a strong offense?” Galen tilted his head. “Don’t go too far, though.”


“Don’t worry. I won’t actually try to conquer it. And if it falls by accident I’ll happily return it to Corinne for assurances that these raids never happen again.”

The Eagle Regiment - normally the Thirty-Seventh Marik Militia - had only been reformed in the last two years after being disbanded during the Succession Wars. The troops were inexperienced when it came to working together, and they still weren’t at full strength but pairing them with the similarly depleted but much more hardened Krushers made sense. Between them they’d have the numerical advantage against the Eleventh Atrean Dragoons, who weren’t exactly the League’s elite.

The other benefit would be that it wouldn’t be so overwhelming that it might crush the Dragoons and have too much success. If it looked as if the SLDF was providing a defensive base for Alys to launch an active campaign to take control of the Marik Commonwealth then the result would be a firestorm.

“You’ll have to be very clear that you’re operating with limited objectives,” he warned. “The propaganda war could break you.”

Alys nodded and touched her uniform, which mirrored that of the FWLM except for the replacement of the traditional purple eagle of House Marik with a silver hawk. “I’ll be very clear that this is to punish the Dragoons and we’ll only go after them,” she promised. “We’re not there to target the civilian population and I’ll withdraw immediately we get any sort of agreement for them.”

Galen saw that other officers wearing the Silver Hawks’ uniform were giving him sharp looks. “I don’t mean to interfere in your chain of command,” he added in a conciliatory manner. “But given the SLDF are deployed on very specific grounds…”

The young woman laughed. “Don’t worry. I think Isis has the right idea about not wanting to claim the Captain-Generalcy. If all three claimants dropped dead right now, I’d nominate Photon, not myself. Just running Augustine and the Krushers is more than enough for me.”

“You might find yourself called for more,” warned General Mountash. “We’re assembling our command structure and there’s going to be need for more senior officers to handle different fronts. Consider this mission your first crack at task force command.”

“When can we expect more SLDF presence?” asked Brackey, changing the subject as Alys digested that warning.

“Stirling’s Fusiliers have already moved into the Sirian Concord to free up regiments there,” Galen replied. “It’ll take a little longer for the Genyosha and the two units loaned by the AFFC to catch up, but they should cross the border in the next week.”

“The Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards and the Twenty-Fifth Skye Rangers?” the colonel queried. “I don’t think I’ve heard of the latter before.”

Mountash cocked her head to one side. “Weren’t they a casualty of the Succession Wars?”

“Recently revived,” Galen offered, hoping this would draw more attention than the Twenty-Fourth Guards, who had a long history, some it recently involving the Free Worlds League. They’d beaten off the Wolf Dragoons’ assault on Hesperus II in 3019, for example, which had been on behalf of Janos Marik.

Alsy smirked. “And both commanded by Steiners?”

“My understanding is that the Archon-Prince wanted reliable commanders in the Terran Corridor and having recently deployed to the area, the two units still had transport assets available.” Galen paused. “Colonel Marik.”

“Touche,” Bracket noted before Alys could take offense. “It would be best not to deploy them facing the Commonwealth though, border worlds have long memories.”

“I believe the intention is for them to deploy along the border with Chaos March and the Border Protectorate. Nowhere that they’ll look like they have a plausible chance of annexing in the name of House Steiner-Davion.”

“Probably for the best. Are they both RCTs?” asked General Mountash thoughtfully.

Galen shook his head. “The Twenty-Fourth is, but the Skye Rangers are operating as combined arms brigades, similar to your own Legionnaires.”

“Should we ask for royalties?”


“I thought you copied the Defenders of Andurien?” he asked lightly and saw the general’s face fall into a scowl.

“No using the A-word,” Alys told him. “None of the news from there is good right now.”

Galen blinked. “Sorry?”

She pulled him aside. “We just got word that the First and Fifth Free Worlds Legionnaires have declared themselves the Andurien Rangers.”

Which meant that the Duchy of Andurien was pushing closer to outright rebellion, he realised. General Mountash must feel the defections a painful parallel to her own decision to offer her loyalty to the Silver Hawks. Her Seventh Legionnaires had even temporarily adopted the designation of the Steadfast regiment, to follow the naming practises of the Silver Hawk Irregulars.

“Ouch,” he mouthed and bowed apologetically to General Mountash.

“I’d like the Skye Rangers sent to Augustine,” she declared, changing the subject. “Duchess Marik’s homeworld is of political importance and pulling the Krushers off it will leave it only lightly guarded…”


Chapter 30
Fox’s Den, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
4 February 3066

Despite being buried under the mountains several miles away from Castle Davion, a high-speed underground railway carried Peter to the nerve centre of the AFFC in a matter of minutes. First Princes through the centuries had used the time in various ways - the train was set up with it’s own toilet, it’s own bedroom, office facilities… he’d spent an afternoon with Victor back when his brother had time off from NAIS exploring every corner of the train, during which time their father had gone too and from the Fox’s Den. On the way back, Hanse had confided doing the same with his own brother back when they were a similar age.

Peter had left a bilingual copy of a Capellan romance novel there and was working through a few pages on every trip. The story was simple enough he wasn’t losing track of it, although he was mostly hoping the female protagonist would punch the man he suspected was intended to be the main love interest repeatedly in the groin. His Mandarin was getting better according to the scoring on regular tests, but he suspected he’d never approve of some aspects of Capellan culture. Which was probably for the best.

The access route from the station to the actual command centre was a literal maze, made of armour panels that were moved at least twice a week. An assigned NCO escorted Peter through, taking directions through an earbud - even the Archon-Prince had no need to know the correct route.

The maze was well lit, for the benefit of firing platforms looking down into it. It took Peter’s eyes a moment to adjust as he moved into the slightly dimmer rooms where actual decisions were made. The low light levels made the holo displays stand out more. While Peter took a visceral pleasure in the walk-in holo-tank that had been added right before Victor left for what had eventually become Operation Bulldog and Operation Serpent, today’s meeting took place in an older conference room.

The room was round, with consoles lining the outer edge on two levels. The conference table was on a low dais in the centre, angled with a narrow head-end and a broader foot that faced a large 2-D screen. Peter took his place at the head of the table and officers who had been spread out, examining data on the consoles, turned and took their own seats.

“My apologies for the delay,” Peter began, glancing at the clock. He’d been a little late getting out of his last meeting.

“It gave us a little more time to prepare.” Bishop Sortek was seated at his right hand. “Where would you like to begin?”


“Unless there’s been any operational updates…?”

Sortek shook his head, indicating that there had been no reported action other than the usual low tempo raids along the long borders with the Clans and the Periphery.

“Then tell me about the Free Worlds League,” decided Peter.

Stephan Cooper shifted slightly in his seat. “We should have taken Sirius and Procyon back when we had the chance. They aren’t covered by the armistice your brother agreed.”

“Perhaps,” Peter conceded. “But we discussed that at the time. There’s too much chance that it would have acted as a rallying cry for the League, the way the Jade Falcon attack was for us after Tharkad. We still haven’t fully recovered from the damage of our own Civil War and we have little more than a year before the fifteenth anniversary of Tukkayid. If one or more of the Clans resumes the invasion then we can’t afford to already be fighting the Free Worlds League.”

“You’re just mad that your Crushers don’t get a crack at Alys’ Krushers,” chided Sortek lightly.

Cooper snorted, but not angrily. “Not at all. Though Marshal Venger might want revenge on some of the units in that part of the League.”

The commander of the Federated Commonwealth Corps sighed heavily. Even with Tancred Sandoval carrying some of the weight, Marshal Venger seemed bowed under the weight of his duties. “I can live with my disappointment,” he told his counterpart from the Davion Guards in a reedy voice.

“The League, gentlemen?” Peter reminded them.

Bishop Sortek nodded and a staff officer brought up a map of the relevant quadrant of the Inner Sphere, the traditional purple of House Marik now an outline around several distinct regions.

“The main fighting between the Marik Commonwealth and the Principality of Regulus remains focused on Atreus,” the staffer reported, highlighting the world. “The defenders still haven’t been reinforced and it seems probable that the Mariks will lose their last foothold on the national capital unless that changes. With friction along their border with the expanded Silver Hawks -” Half a dozen worlds around Marik and Augustine lit up with markers indicating troop movements. “- that may not be feasible for Corinne Marik.”

Peter shook his head. “Consequences?”

“It’ll boost Regulan legitimacy and further undermine Corinne Marik. Her failure to secure Thomas Halas during her coup and the continued closeness with the Word of Blake are already damaging. I doubt a loss here will break her entirely, but she needs a victory somewhere or her chances of winning over the remaining provinces that haven’t committed to one of the major players will be essentially gone.”

“Does it put Kirc Cameron-Jones in a winning position?” Taking New Avalon and Tharkad had essentially decided their own civil war.

“Not while his rivals are alive and at large,” Bishop Sortek told him firmly. “We lucked out with Kathrina not reappearing after her departure from New Avalon. If she’d resurfaced and continued to provide leadership, we might still be fighting. A lot of the units and worlds that declared neutrality only did so because she was no longer visible as a rallying point and Nondi couldn’t fill that gap.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. That was essentially his own take when he looked back. And it raised the worrying possibility that if she returned many worlds might still be willing to take up her cause. After all, Victor had been gone for longer and worlds had rallied to him.

“Thomas Halas’ jumpship strength has been committed to bringing Oriente’s Hussar and Fusilier regiments back from their farflung postings without facing naval interception,” the staffer resumed. “That goal has largely been completed so it’s possible that he may launch an attack on Regulus from their rear. However, Oriente has other concerns.”

More lights, covering the block of worlds cleaving to the semi-deposed Captain-General along two flanks. Peter frowned. “What’s Sun-Tzu doing?”

A second officer spoke - Peter recognised her as being from Military Intelligence’s Capellan desk. “Capellan regiments and ships are active along the border with Oriente and to a lesser extent the Silver Hawks Coalition. Officially it’s defensive in case the war spills over, but unofficially there’s real concern inside the court on Oriente that Liao may be planning an invasion. It’s tying down six regiments and two of their available warships.”

Which more or less cut away Oriente’s edge in numbers over the other claimants. As the only claimant with an external border to worry about, Thomas Halas was already at a disadvantage. “And Andurien?”

“We’re expecting a formal declaration of independence in the next three months at most,” the first officer advised. “Duchess Humphries has almost everything in place. It’s likely her first moves will be to seek diplomatic recognition from as many realms as possible, and convincing her smaller neighbours to join her. With an alternative of the Capellans and Canopians she may get some traction there.”

“And on the diplomatic front?”

There was an uneasy silence and then the sound of boots from the mezzanine level. Peter looked up and saw an officer leaning over the rail. “It’s hard to say, your highness. It’s slightly more probable than not that the Capellans would support Andurien and Canopus would object, reversing the position during the previous Andurien Secession. But Chancellor Liao and the Magistrix are playing their cards close to their chest and the Star League’s position on the matter is a huge question mark.”

“Mansdottir isn’t having an easy term of office,” Peter agreed. Then again, nor had either of the previous serving First Lords.

“There are two other situations of concern in the League, sir. One potential and the other confirmed.”

The Archon-Prince looked at the map, with the lights already reflecting crises. “Start with the latter.”

“Yes sir.” Another light, this time glittering in the swathe of undecided worlds between Marik, Regulus and the Periphery. “The Marian Hegemony hit Kendall a week ago. Initial reports suggested a heavy raid but follow up waves of troops have been ferried in and we believe this is an attempted occupation.”

“Say what?” No periphery power had tried to invade the Inner Sphere since the Canopians hit the Capellan Confederation after the Fourth Succession War. Given how poorly that had gone, Peter would have thought that the lesson in the sheer resource disparity would have sunk in. Then again, a new generation often thought they could surpass their elders…

“House O’Reilly’s significantly expanded their realm by conquest,” the officer on the mezzanine reminded him. Most likely he was an expert in the Periphery realms. “We believe that the Marians see this as a once in a lifetime chance to occupy a significant industrial world. It could be years before any of the claimants wins out and is in a position to take the world back, allowing House O’Reilly to funnel the production of the Kali Yama and Brooks Inc. factories into their armed forces.”

“Remind me about Kendall.” There were over two thousand inhabited worlds in the Inner Sphere. Peter couldn’t reliably remember the details of all of them, even second-tier industrial worlds.

“Kali Yama build the Orion and Hercules heavy ‘Mechs there,” Sortek reminded him diplomatically. “And Brooks are a major source of the Galleon and Main Gauche light tanks. Our last information was that the garrison was a mercenary regiment, the Bad Dreams.”

“What do you make of their prospects.”

“Without reinforcements, not much.”

Peter looked at the map and then shook his head. There was nothing in reach to do anything about it, even if it was in his interests to do so. Even the SLDF regiments moving to reinforce Tamarind would have difficulty justifying moving up there and he had no authority to order them to do so. “And the other issue?”

“There was a desertion from Alys Rousset-Marik’s Krushers when they set out for Marik,” the League-expert reported. “One jumpship was believed to have misjumped but new information suggests it’s intentional. Less than a battalion of troops led by her brother-in-law, Major Serge Bernstein.” He paused. “Investigation is a strong word. Duchess Isis Marik sent us word that Serge tried to smuggle his son aboard his dropship before he left and left a delayed drop letter for the media, denouncing Alys for inviting Lyran troops in.”

“Did he get the boy?”

“No sir. Duchess Alys interrupted and Bernstein had to abort and pretend there was a misunderstanding. That only clarified in hindsight. The letter was intercepted before delivery so the public is unaware so far.”

Peter looked at the map and then groaned. “If Bernstein goes back for his son - Alys’ heir - then he’ll be in a shooting match with the Twenty-Fifth Skye Rangers.”

“Best case he makes for the Chaos March, sir.” The officer sounded apologetically. “Worst case, he hits Commonwealth worlds. It was AFFC troops that killed Ana Marik and his letter suggested that he had vengeance in mind.”

“I take it my brother has been alerted?” Victor was going to have a hot potato on his hands if forces that could claim to be from the Silver Hawks began raiding into the Federated Commonwealth.



Chapter 31
Dormuth, Marik
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
17 March 3066

The Eleventh Atrean Dragoons didn’t appear to have anticipated that the Silver Hawks would dare strike back at them. While Alys had brought her dropships in using fake codes, there hadn’t even been a flyby inspection until three of her Union-class ships broke off from approach to the spaceport to begin a drop run.

With a battalion of the Krushers on the ground, there was a thin but viable perimeter around the landing pads. The ground was still glowing on infra-red sensors when Alys marched her Perseus down the dropship ramp to join them.

More and more ‘Mechs were streaming out of the dropships, followed by armoured fighting vehicles and even the single company of battle armour available. Environmentally-sealed APCs rushed across the ferrocrete that had been superheated by fusion torches as the ships landed, carrying infantry who would otherwise probably suffer heatstroke.

Alys brought her weapons up to full readiness and felt the reactor shake and a wave of heat as power was generated to fill the capacitors.

The first ‘Mechs emerged from the on site hangars at a run, but they weren’t trying to attack either the Krushers or the Eagle regiment ‘mechs, instead trying to break for the gates and towards the city, where the rest of the garrison would be based.

That was the smart play, there was barely a battalion here and that left them outnumbered almost five to one. But for that reason Alys had put her best long-range firepower on that flank. If she’d wanted to run the Dragoons down and destroy them then she might have gone for a pursuit force but right now she’d settle for inflicting heavy damage.

She picked out a Hermes II running towards the spaceport’s main cargo gates and centred her crosshairs a little ahead of the light ‘Mech to allow for its speed. Out of the edges of her cockpit canopy she saw the arms of her Perseus rise to bring the muzzles in them to bear.

The Hermes II didn’t try to dodge, perhaps mistaking her ‘Mech for an older Orion. The two designs were very similar, but while an Orion rarely mounted more than a medium laser in each arm, for a Perseus they were usually the mounts for heavy ballistic weapons.

Alys preferred a different load though and she fired from one arm and then the other, staggering the shots to cushion the brutal heat load. The black-market Clan Extended Range PPCs had set her back more than the cost of the original ‘Mech once the price tag for adding the extra capacitors she wanted was considered, but the result was the most powerful energy weapons mounted on a ‘Mech.

Her first shot narrowly missed the Hermes II, the bolt of charged particles slipping between the smaller ‘Mech’s left arm and its side. And then the second smashed into the Dragoon ‘Mech from behind, a little to the left of its spine.

The Hermes’ left arm was flung pinwheeling into the air as the energy packet ripped through the myomers and structural members of its shoulder. A little lower and the forty-ton ‘Mech would have been shattered as ammunition bins were destroyed, but it reeled wildly and barely managed to stay on its feet under the shot.

Feeling her Perseus slow as heat impaired the reaction of its myomer muscles, Alys pushed down on the pedals to force longer strides, even if it left her less stable as a firing platform. She wasn’t interested in chasing the Hermes II down, instead moving her fire to an Apollo that was trying to twist its torso around to provide covering fire from its torso missile racks as it retreated towards the gates.

Rather than her PPCs, Alys fired the LRM racks built into her Perseus shoulders, the salvo landing just after a more modest volley from a Krushers’ Thunderbolt hit the same target. The Apollo emerged from the barrage smoking, its once-proud paint stripped away by dozens of missile impacts. It didn’t fall though, instead staggering gamely after the Hermes II.

“Colonel! Contact, grid square Alpha-Golf-Seven-Niner.”

She saw from an LED inside her neurohelmet that the message was from the Krusher’s third battalion, currently pushing towards the spaceport control building. That had been Ana’s battalion, but survivors from that had been consolidated into her own first battalion. These days it was Sam Dooley’s, the Solaris veteran she’d hired on to whip the motley of mechwarriors brought in since taking over into some kind of order. Not much more than half-strength in ‘mechs, but with the Dragoons withdrawing that should be enough.

“I hear you, Sam.” Alys wheeled her Perseus behind the back of a Krushers Longbow in case anyone took pot-shots at her while she was distracted. “Threat level?”

“Heavy tank presence, might be some assault ‘Mechs that don’t think they can bug out.” There was a crunching sound from the other woman’s cockpit. “Scratch one Manti… damn, yes, that’s a Stalker.”

Alys frowned. The space port had several objectives, the communications gear and records of the control tower weren’t vital for holding it… but if they wanted to find out about any other raids on the way, then taking it fast might be the only way. “Calling in back-up.”

Sending in reserves early might be a critical mistake if the Dragoons pushed back, but she wasn’t marrying this ground. She just wanted to send a message. “Calling in support.” A tap of a switch switched her microphone to the task force command channel. “Eagle Six, I’m requesting reinforcements for Krushers Three-One. They have heavy opposition around the control tower.”

“Understood, Eagle Six.” Cole Zhukov was older and more experienced than she was, but technically she was senior in grade. The product of inheriting one’s command rather than rising to it through the ranks. “They’ll be there in three minutes, tops.”

She was about to rejoin First Battalion as they moved in on the gates to make sure there were no Dragoon holdouts, but another channel lit up, this one from the command deck of the dropship that had brought her here.

“Colonel Rousset-Marik, we’re getting a signal from a relay satellite in orbit,” the comms officer on the other end reported. “I don’t know who it is, but it’s a military encryption and they want to speak to you.”

Alys frowned and checked her board. Nothing seemed about to explode and the Eagle Regiment’s Second battalion was visible moving up to join Dooley’s forces around the control tower. “Put them through.”

Activating a secondary monitor, she locked the legs of her Perseus and turned as much as she could in the command couch to face the screen. It lit up with a spinning FWL badge, replaced a moment later by an unfamiliar man’s face. “Am I addressing Duchess Alys Rousset-Marik?”

Tapping a control, the camera built into her helmet activated. “You are.”

The man nodded and then moved - no, he was moving the camera, she realised - with another face coming into view.

“I can’t say that I’m entirely surprised that you’re making a play for the throne,” Corinne Marik told her heavily. “But selling out to the FedCom? That, I didn’t expect, cousin.”

“We both know there’s a difference between the FedCom and the Star League,” Alys replied, thinking furiously. Corinne was here? In the system? Or was she relaying her presence through an HPG loop? “And I don’t want the throne, there are enough asses already trying to plant themselves on it.”

“Then you should have stayed on Augustine.” And then the woman leant forwards into the camera. “I wish I’d brought a warship, to make sure you don’t get off world, or at least need to bring the cruiser your patron has sent you into play - because evidence of that would show your allegiance. But I’ll give you this chance: surrender your forces and I’ll repatriate your personnel - but not your hardware - back to Irian.”

She wouldn’t offer that much if she was sure of winning. But the Eleventh Dragoons weren’t going to outweigh her own forces, not with the momentum of having mauled a company’s worth of them already. “There’s usually an ‘or else’.”

Her cousin bared her teeth. “Or you can try running the gauntlet of the First Free Worlds Guards’ entire aerowing to get away. Please. Take your best shot.”

Alys tried to hide her concern. The First Guards had a reinforced wing of the most elite pilots in the entire League at their disposal, more fighters and unquestionably better piloted, than both the Eagle Regiment and the Krushers could put up between them. And if their aerowing was there, then the three crack ‘Mech battalions and supporting elements were already there.


Chapter 32
Fort Bastogne, Dieudonne
Silver Hawks Coalition, Free Worlds League
23 April 3066

Isis felt like she’d aged ten years since Corinne had mouse-trapped Alys on Marik. There wasn’t anything much she could do directly about it, but it worried her almost as much as the propaganda that was spreading, something that was very definitely in her bailiwick.

“You look like your grandfather when the light’s poor,” Therese Marik told her on entering the small lounge.

“That doesn’t sound flattering.” She rose and embraced her aunt.

“It wasn’t meant to me. Learn to pace yourself, you’re too young to be acting like a man his age.”

Isis rested her head against the old woman’s shoulder for a moment, drawing strength from her. And then she stood straight again. “I worry about Alys.”

“Can you do anything to help her?”

She shook her head. Marshal Creveld was looking at options to put together a force to extract the Krushers and Eagle Regiment, but it would take time to pull together aerospace assets, particularly given the possibility that Corinne had a warship on the way.

Therese patted her shoulder. “If you can’t put it out of your mind entirely, then I suggest at least focusing on something else. I take it everything’s set up for our treaty?”

“It should be. We had a contingency for Uncle Jeremy not being able to make it.”

As originally planned, both Marshal Jeremy Brett and Duchess Therese Marik would have been visiting Dieudonne together in order to formalise the alliance between the two neutral factions, but events had got ahead of them.

Tamarind’s swathe of territory was similar to the Silver Hawks Coalition in some ways but differed considerably in others. Abbey District, the only other real multi-world province in the area, had elected formally unite with Tamarind into what was now a ‘Unified Duchy’, however that was intended to work. Very few other worlds had made the same decision as yet though. Instead, Therese’s husband had strung together the ‘Tamarind Alliance’ as a purely military endeavour, based on the Military District’s infrastructure and chains of communication.

“He would have loved to be here, but events got ahead of us.”

“Yes, I don’t suppose you can ignore Kendall.”

“We don’t have the level of industry available that you do here,” agreed Therese. “And letting the Marians get a foothold would be a terrible precedent.”

Her husband had taken two of their relatively limited forces to push the periphery realm back from the industrial world. Success would presumably bind Kendall to Tamarind and extend both Therese and Jeremy’s influence in the area. However it did mean that they were in no position to support the Silver Hawks in their current problems with what Galen had told Isis was being colloquially referred to as the ‘Marik-Stewart Commonwealth’. It made sense both in geographic and the political sense - Corinne’s paternal grandmother was a Stewart, so calling her a Marik-Stewart was somewhat defensible, and the Stewarts had thrown their financial, military and industrial might behind her.

It seemed too permanent to Isis though. As if it was expected that there would need to be a clear distinction. Corinne still referred to her domain as the Free Worlds League, as the other two did.

“Is there any expectation that the Rim Commonality might offer a combined front against the Marians?” Isis thought that the province, roughly central to the League’s periphery border, might be just as concerned about the ambition of Caesar Julius O’Reilly. The Marian leader had reined in some of his father’s policies, but clearly a desire for conquest was not one of them.

“They’re primarily concerned about convincing Westover to accept protection - it would give them access to aerospace factories to complement their domestic Battlemech production.” The old duchess shrugged wryly. “It would be very difficult for Jeremy or I to directly support them but I think there’s a chance we could be seeing another large faction emerging if they begin to establish a broader base of support.”

“That would make seven distinct… nations?” She shook her head. “No, not the word I want.”


“It may be more accurate, however little we like it,” her aunt offered. “Regional powers would be a more neutral term if you want one.”

“Since I guess we have to have one.”

Therese tried to smile and failed. “We must accept reality. The Free Worlds League we both grew up is gone and neither of us can sew it back together again. We could have thrown our support behind one of the claimants and probably decided the matter on a military front.”

“But not a political one.”

She got a nod in confirmation. “If the Commonality can make it then we’ll be looking at seven major regional powers. Hopefully, the Commonality will be a check on Dalma Humphreys as well as our periphery neighbours… to the extent that Andurien wouldn’t be a periphery realm. I can’t see them managing to be a major player with so many potential hostile powers around them.”

Isis shook her head. “I’d hope that they remain neutral, even if Alys and I are slipping off that. At least in the public eye.”

“Yes, you might have been better off asking that the SLDF spread national contingents out. Having most of the forces in your Coalition from the Federated Commonwealth or mercenaries that have a history of working for them isn’t the best optics. But what’s done is done. Try not to make Yvonne Steiner-Davion’s mistake and read too much into the polls. At the end of the day, the leaders of the provinces are the ones that will make the difference.”

“Even they have to listen to those who follow them.” Although the point about the polls was interesting. Those polls had been manipulated by the then-Archon as a way to discredit the regency-government of the rump Federated Commonwealth while Victor Steiner-Davion was away fighting the Clans. Given that interstellar media had to be conveyed by HPG… it was unlikely that Blakists would alter messages, but they could most likely affect which reports arrived first and were used by the media, and which arrived later and got much less circulation.

“You have the look of someone who has an idea.”

“I do,” Isis confirmed. “But I’ll have to follow it up later. Right now we have a reception to get to.”

“Oh the joy. At least I’m at the age where I can get away without wearing heels.”

“I rather like them.”

Therese snorted. “No, you like the way that they make your young man look at your legs.”

“Really, Galen’s not my young man.”

“You knew exactly who I meant though.”

Isis knew that her cheeks were flushed.

“Just think about him more,” her aunt advised. “And Alys less. Not never, of course. But less. She’s a perfectly capable young officer and if the worst comes to the worst, I doubt Corinne would actually execute her.”

“I know. She’s too valuable as a hostage. But accidents do happen, particularly when BattleMechs are involved.”

Therese Marik shrugged. “Those accidents won’t happen on worlds of your coalition, Isis. That’s the entire point of Alys’ mission and in that regard it’s working perfectly.”


Chapter 33
Novi Beograd, Marik
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
4 May 3066

When Alys thought about it, she was a mess.

She was more than halfway through the entire locker of sports drinks at the back of her cockpit, hadn’t showered in a week and had sweated rather more than was healthy. As she unlocked the cockpit hatch, she actually had to think carefully about when she’d last left her Perseus.

It had been more than a week.

Half a field base was laid out around her, with what was left of the other half being quickly stripped by support personnel. It wasn’t her field base, or rather it hadn’t been. The Eleventh Atrean Dragoons were down to about a battalion and Force Commander Barry ‘Hyper’ Knight wouldn’t be taking over from Colonel Panfili - his Black Knight was being dragged towards the Dragoons repair section that had been captured almost intact, head caved in by a fortunate shot from one of the Krusher’s Hunchbacks..

Breaking contact with Corinne and the Free Worlds Guards had taken a healthy dose of mis-direction and might yet cost Alys one of her dropships, but the best guess was that they had a thirty hour window of opportunity for her combat troops to rest and for her support elements to make use of the bonanza that crushing the Dragoon’s Third Battalion had netted them.

“How’s it going, Dooley?” she asked, crossing to where the battalion commander was waiting for her. Her only battalion commander, right now. The Krushers had taken their own losses and she was down to less than seventy ‘Mechs total, with Second Battalion broken up to keep the other two fighting.

The older woman stretched her arms above her head and arched her back, clearly working out the kinks left by hours in the relatively cramped cockpit of her Archer. “Could be better. You sure about taking first shift?”

Alys nodded. “I want to go through their headquarters van anyway. Better to do it now.”

“Not gonna argue.” Dooley’s battalion would have twelve hours downtime if circumstances allowed, a chance for them to sleep somewhere other than their command couches or do whatever else would help them recharge after the last week of being constantly on the move. It would also give the techs time to reload ammo bins and patch the worst of the armour damage.

First Battalion (and the Second Battalion of the similarly depleted Eagles) would rotate their companies through four hour shifts of guard duty, four hours of ready five and four of ready fifteen. That should be enough security to deal with any minor harassment and at least warn the sleeping, eating or - Alys looked at the field shower block longingly - washing mechwarriors in time for them to get back in their cockpits.

She would have worried about air raids, but fortunately the Dragoons’ Third Battalion had sited the base in a tangle of canyons that would be very difficult to conduct bombing raids down. The Free Worlds Guards pilots were among the best in the Inner Sphere, but part of that was knowing that sometimes a risk wasn’t worth taking.

The balance of forces on the ground was evening up. Destroying Knight’s Battalion meant that Corinne had only four left, the same number that Alys could command. The Guards still had an edge in experience and the quality of their equipment but that wasn’t necessarily overwhelming.

I don’t need to destroy them, Alys thought. Just stay alive until we have enough air cover for our dropships to stop playing hide and seek with their patrols and get us to a jump point. She had enough access to the planetary datanet that she could get messages through the HPG. Encoded so even Corinne’s people there couldn’t crack them in a useful timeframe. The Blakists couldn’t openly take a side, after all. And if Isis was right, there might even be those there that would favour the Silver Hawks.

“See you in the morning then,” Dooley declared. “God willing and the enemy don’t get sneaky.”

The enemy. Alys shook her head. Dammit. Corinne was her first cousin!

She tried to take her mind off that, digging into the command van. The Dragoons had tried to get their headquarters vehicles out, but they’d been caught off-guard and under the guns of ‘Mechs most of the lightly armoured and largely unarmed support units had surrendered or been unable to avoid taking disabling damage.

In this case, the van had been kept from leaving by the very simple method of Jaime Kincaid flipping it over onto its side with his Thunderbolt’s battlefists. It had broken some of the more fragile components (particularly a number of Dragoon staff NCOs that would likely need to be exchanged or dropped off at a nearby hospital) but most of the electronics were hardened military-grade gear.

“We’ve cracked the passwords, ma’am,” one of her intel section reported. “And they didn’t manage to do a purge of the databanks.”

Probably too busy trying to figure out who had sufficient working limbs and where the controls to do that were, with the van on its side, Alys thought but didn’t say. “Good work. I’d offer you a cookie, but I don’t know if we have any left.”

“I’m sure the Dragoons have some in their supplies,” the young man grinned. “Permission to loot their kitchens?”

“Granted.” As if any order she could give would be as pointless as trying to keep active young men and women from scavenging any high calorie snacks they could find that weren’t military rations.

The van had been righted, so all Alys had to do was sit down and the active console gave her access to ‘Hyper’ Knight’s records. Recent records were already being dug into by the spooks for anything operationally useful, but she was more interested in a few months ago.

The Eleventh Atrean Dragoons had been raiding into the Coalition, but Corinne was denying it up and down, calling the attack on Marik unprovoked. The Dragoons’ own records proving otherwise would be a blow to Corinne’s credibility and make Isis’ job much easier.

The official orders didn’t mention any raids, but that would probably have been adjusted already to cover-up for them. However, it would take more than that to disguise the absence of a company of troops. Pay records for seeing combat, maintenance records for fixing battle damage, medical records for wounded mechwarriors - for that matter, just a specific absence of the ‘Mechs from hangar records for the requisite time. All of that could be  the key to revealing the deception.

Alys remembered her mother telling her how once a deniable operation had been blown simply because someone hadn’t remembered to cover up the records of repainting a ‘Mech’s armour for a second time in a week, revealing that the paint (and the armour beneath) had been damaged by weapons fire and thus that the ‘Mech must have seen action between the two dates.

Methodically, the young Colonel worked through technical reports, the pay database, everything she could think of. She could at least narrow it down to relatively specific periods of time or she’d have needed to pull staff aside to help with the search.

And yet when a comm pinged her to remind her that it was almost time for her to get her Perseus up and action for her four hours on guard, she’d found nothing.

Barry Knight’s record keeping was meticulous, every irregularity and failure to meet proper military standards logged with the precision she’d expected given his reputation as a micro-manager. Everything down to reprimands for minor uniform errors - something mechwarriors were traditionally lax even on formal occasions unless protocol was specifically going to be stringent for some reason (a royal presence, for example) - was detailed and covered not only his own battalion but the other two.

Alys went through notes he’d taken in frequent meetings with the much laxer Colonel Panfili as the two officers tried to find a middle-ground in their management style. She couldn’t account for all of the hundred-plus mechwarriors in the regiment for every single day of the timespan she was looking at, but she couldn’t find any gaps that would cover an entire company - any company, much less the specific ones that were noted for the compositions seen in the raids.

Either the Dragoons had handpicked mechwarriors from across their ranks to carry out the raids or…

Alys sat back in the chair, stretched and then vacated it, heading back to her ‘Mech. Or. That was the word.

There was a third possibility and it didn’t sit well with her.

Because if the Eleventh Atrean Dragoons hadn’t carried out the raids, then someone else had. Someone with access to a range of FWLM ‘Mechs and sufficiently detailed records to fake up a force that could pass for the Dragoons.

With the FWLN divided into multiple factions, there were any number of candidates who might have the capability, but the list of those who might find it advantageous was shorter.

Have I been played for a fool?

Alys hated the idea. It would be simpler to take the raids at face value. And even if they were faked, it wasn’t impossible that Corinne or someone in her command structure had used other forces to fake being the Atrean Dragoons, planning to discredit accusations and undermine the Silver Hawks Coalition.

And yet…

“Smoke and mirrors,” the young Marik muttered as she pulled her neurohelmet down on her head. She’d got a patrol to carry out, but once she was back on ready fifteen she’d see if the spooks could dig up anything to prove her initial beliefs… or to discredit them.

Either way, I have to know. If I got my troops killed because I was fooled, then the least I can do is find out and get the rest out alive.


Chapter 34
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
2 June 3066

Breakfast at Castle Davion wasn’t always a private meal for the Archon-Prince. Sometimes when his schedule was too pressing, he had fit informal briefings in over a meal and today, with his departure for a quick visit to Galax scheduled for mid-morning, it was a last chance to touch base on some classified matters.

“You arranged this just so you could mooch breakfast,” he accused Quintus Allard-Liao in jest as the younger man stacked his plate with fried foods.

“Grandfather’s doctor banned all fried foods from the entire household. I suspect he’s just trying a back-alley approach to affecting all our diets, but admittedly none of us can keep the old man from sneaking food from our plates.”

Catherine chuckled from where she was sat at the end of the table, between the two men. “He’s a sneaky devil but he’s our sneaky devil.”

“A legacy I shall do my best to live up to.” Quintus opened a folder next to his plate. “We’ve been able to get enough access to Blakist sources to confirm that ‘the Five’ and ‘the Hidden’ are almost certainly referring to hidden worlds, just as speculated. The other details I can’t confirm.”

Peter cut a strip from his omelette and methodically severed the result into bite-sizes. The five hidden worlds of the Word of Blake were something he’d learned of from Catherine’s memories. She claimed that ComStar had hidden away five depopulated or near-depopulated worlds during the early Succession Wars, obfuscating their exact locations and using them for various covert research projects and other similar purposes.

When the Word of Blake broke away from ComStar, the elements that had known of these worlds had joined them and they’d become bases for developing what would become the Shadow Divisions - an elite covert army that functioned in parallel with the Word of Blake’s publicly known armed forces. They sounded like a bad science fiction movie - fanatical cyborg-soldiers armed with cutting edge hardware and backed by an arsenal that included weapons of mass destruction.

To be honest, Peter wasn’t convinced until the Wolf Dragoons had very reluctantly admitted that their special forces and intelligence arms had been under attack by squads of soldiers matching Catherine’s descriptions. It was entirely possible that Jaime Wolf wouldn’t have shared that information if a diplomatic team on Outreach hadn’t spotted the aftermath of a firebomb attack that partially disabled the HPG station there. When they passed it back, the Intelligence Secretariat had sent a request for information to Wolfnet under Star League protocols and the mercenaries had been forced to confess that the attackers were at least a somewhat known entity.

“Nothing at all on locations?”

Quintus made a face. “Nothing new. We’re doing some discreet investigation of Odessa. Count Fisk and his family are dirty, we just need the proof before we can bring them down. It was fairly easy to sneak a few extra agents in and drop off a few covert observation satellites to fly past Odessa VI but it’ll be a while before we find the others. It’s harder when they’re not in systems we have a legitimate presence in.”

Peter forked some omelette into his mouth and chewed on it. Unfortunately, the spy made a good point. Catherine had told them that one of the worlds was within the borders of each of the five Successor States but those borders had moved over time - particularly the Capellan borders.

Odessa VI was the one that she knew most about - it had never been formally inhabited, it was a gas giant in a system not far from Tharkad. Unfortunately it was also allegedly a hidden reserve of damaged warships left behind by Kerensky when he led his Exodus Fleet out of the Inner Sphere in 2784. There had been plenty of time to repair those ships so there could be a small fleet of warships in striking range of Peter’s other capital.

“Given how little information we have, I’m not sure we can dedicate the resources to find the ones in Capellan and Draconian space,” Quintus continued. “We don’t know what the purpose of the former even is and while I’d be absolutely delighted to eliminate a factory dedicated to chemical and biological warfare, my understanding is that that eliminated itself some time ago.”


“If,” Catherine mumbled - she paused, chewed and swallowed. “If our source is correct. Which it may not be.”

“Perhaps not, but getting anything past the ISF to go looking is quite tricky. And while the possibility of simply sharing our data has been considered, we don’t have sufficiently credible information at this point.” He paused. “Also we have less goodwill than Prince Victor had when he was the ruler.”

“Briefly.”


“Pardon?”

She twirled her fork. “Victor only acted as a ruler from ‘55 to ‘58. The rest of the time, even if he was technically head of state, he wasn’t governing anyone. Less than four years.”

“Still two years more than me,” Peter pointed out. “I take it that the one in the League is equally difficult to get to?”

Quintus tilted his hand back and forth. “SAFE is a mess right now. It’s harder than Odessa and our most likely candidate is a system inside the Marik-Stewart bloc, which adds issues, but we might be able to get someone in. A full black mission would cause issues if spotted but we’re looking at arranging for a ‘free trader’ to use the system as a waypoint and do some very covert passive surveillance. Don’t expect anything until next year at best.”

“And that leaves the one this side of the Federated Commonwealth.” Peter set down his cutlery and drove one fist into the palm of his other hand. “That one I really want.”

The League’s hidden worlds was allegedly where most of their cybernetic research was done. It was probably the source of the cyborg-soldiers and possibly even where the real Thomas Marik was hiding. But the last world, codenamed Taussen, was allegedly where BattleMech production and development took place. The only thing better than catching the ‘neutral’ Word of Blake having a hidden factory inside the Commonwealth would be if the AFFC could take it intact.

It would be something of a diplomatic breach with the Inner Sphere’s other HPG operators, but there were contingencies for that and interactions with the Word’s representation on the Star League council suggested that with the proper leverage, it might be possible to get some very desirable concessions out of the current Terran government if their alternative was having that much of their dirty laundry circulated.

“Well we’ll do what we can.” Quintus didn’t sound particularly confident. “Unfortunately, Versailles didn’t check out and we don’t have any other strong candidates.”

“Sooner or later, we’ll find them. They can’t hide forever.”

Catherine shrugged and took some french toast from the tray in the middle of the table. “I hope so.”

“Do we have anything else turning up that I should know about before I leave?” Peter reached out and took the last two pieces of toast. That got him a glare from his sister, as if the servants wouldn’t rush more out in a moment.

The other man made a face. “It’s not urgent, but there are some reports from the Capellan Confederation that suggest the troop movements near Oriente are more of a mask than substance. A maskirova if you’ll pardon the joke.”

Peter looked up sharply. “Something George Hasek should be worried about?”

“Not directly, we think, but it looks as if it’s been covering for the movement of dropships and supplies from the Andurien theatre towards the Chaos March. No troops have actually been removed but it’ll be harder for them to respond in force if Humphries tries to repeat her grandmother’s invasion.”

“Possible. But…” Peter shook his head.

“No, we don’t think it’s likely either. The Canopians are quite friendly with the Capellans these days so Duchess Humphreys would be facing a war on two fronts. More likely they’ve reached an accommodation and by reducing his own ability to strike at her now she’s got to stand on her own with such small forces - at least in the short term - Sun-Tzu is giving her the chance to gnaw away at the other factions.”

“Making trouble in someone else’s backyard, at the cost of shuffling a few dropships. That sounds like the Chancellor we all know and loathe.” He considered. “If the dropships are headed for the Chaos March, can we expect more troop movements there? A lot of worlds are still trying to figure out which way to jump. A major Capellan push now wouldn’t be a disaster but I’d rather we didn’t have to deal with one.”

“There are basically three possibilities - well, barring doing nothing.”


“Unlikely.” Catherine shook his head. “Sun-Tzu has made a lot of his success by fishing in troubled waters. And right now he has a choice of several fishing lures.” She paused. “Spots?”

“Spots,” agreed Peter. “The Chaos March and the Free Worlds League must both look tempting and if he waits too long then the opportunity could pass him by.”

“It’s at least possible that he’s considering moving forces to join the peacekeepers sent by the SLDF. He cited limited shipping and exposed borders with regard to factions that hadn’t requested SLDF support,” offered Quintus. “But he could easily see the need to provide a counter-balance to the soft influence that having AFFC regiments supporting the Silver Hawks is providing.”

It wasn’t going very far, Peter thought. But on the plus side, it meant that he’d been able to pull a couple of regiments off the League border, since the SLDF presence would make it much much less likely that raids or invasion could take place - and between them, Tamarind and the Silver Hawks covered essentially all of his border with the League. That might make all the difference down the line, having too many troops facing the Clans was barely conceivable, and not having to take them off the Capellan or Draconian border was a godsend when dealing with the Sandovals and Haseks.

“If he wanted to send peacekeepers in, then he’d be mad to do so without coordinating with the SLDF,” he said instead. “He offended most of the Council when he pulled out of the last meeting at the Whitting Conference, so unless he wants to stay at odds…”

Catherine cleared her throat. “If he feels that he has got nothing more to gain from the Star League…”

Peter rubbed his jaw. They’d talked about it before. If it happened then it would be a problem, but it would probably turn out worse for the Capellans than anyone else. After all, if they were the only realm that wasn’t inside the Star League then they’d be frozen out of not only the lucrative trade agreements - which were having a measurable impact on the Federated Commonwealth’s recovery - but also on the mutual defense treaty.

Which would be a very appropriately Chinese form of interesting for Sun-Tzu Liao.

Chapter 36
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
8 July 3066

“Three items for final decisions, sir.”

Peter pushed back his chair and gestured for Bishop Sortek to take a seat by the coffee table. His Champion complied, setting the document folder he’d brought on the table, then placing an open notepad on top of it. As the Archon-Prince filled two mugs with coffee, he was amused to see that the top page neatly laid out the written issue and options and hand-drawn tick boxes next to them waiting for the choices to be made. It was very secretarial, but this was a private conversation and who was to question how the uniformed head of the AFFC handled his personal notes? It clearly worked for him.

One sugar in Sortek’s mug, one cream in his own. He sat down facing the Field Marshal. “Anything we haven’t discussed to death already?”

“No, I think they’ve been chewed over repeatedly and nothing so urgent that I couldn’t have sent word while you were on Galax.” Bishop accepted his coffee. “Thank you sir.”

“Good coffee is the least I can offer with how much if this you’re handling for me.” Peter was honest enough to admit that he didn’t have close to the experience of high level military command to run the AFFC. He’d handled task groups he’d led in the Civil War by delegating most of the detail work to senior officers and trusting them, but learning how to run things from the capital… it rubbed in just how a junior officer he’d been when his career derailed.

As the Archon-Prince’s Champion (there had been a suggestion to reinstate the original title of Prime Marshal, but Peter liked the personal touch of the current version), Sortek wielded all the authority of the commander-in-chief, letting Peter pick up the job at a manageable pace alongside his civilian responsibilities. Most importantly of all, he’d managed to do so without undercutting his much younger superior.

“What’s first on your list,” Peter asked, although he’d read the upside down words. “The Alliance Guards?”

Bishop sipped from his mug and then nodded as he put it down. “They’re not bad troops but they need their own niche. The perception that they’re second-rate FedCom RCTs is almost as damaging as the doubts about their loyalty.”

“I can see that. But I’m not about to write them off. Disbanding the corps would be almost as damaging, and spread disaffected soldiers across the AFFC.”

“Then we need to find them a new role, sir. Jon Davion suggested taking a leaf from the Ceti Hussars’ and breaking them into smaller sub-commands.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. “It’s not exactly their own niche, but it’s a start. I take it you think that it’s the right track?”

“Yes sir. RCTs are very logistics heavy, particularly on shipping. We could do with additional smaller commands that can be moved around more easily to respond to a crisis.”

“Somewhat like the Capellan March’s Borderer regiments, or the Argyle Lancers.”

“Exactly, sir. But an entire corps of such units.”

Peter sipped his own coffee. “I see the merits, but we’d better not have them simply turn into second-rate Ceti Hussars instead of a second-rate FedCom Corps. Look at splitting them permanently into smaller formations, with each of the current RCTs forming three distinct combined arms brigades. We can look at beefing up their ‘Mech, aerospace and battle armour complements and scaling back conventional armour and infantry, so we can get the maximum punch for every dropship allocated to them.”

Bishop picked up his pen and ticked off one of the options. “We have some potential tables of organisation,” he confirmed. “I’ll get back to you on a schedule for breaking off the new commands. We may need to adjust our allocations for new equipment and personnel. Do you want to revive the First and Second Alliance Guards?”

“Let’s go ahead. It’s not as if they did anything offensive before Kathrina broke them up to build her Jaeger formations. If you need cadre, consider picking some transfers from the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry. A mix of their doctrine and the Ceti Hussars could be what we need.”

“Next on our list is the construction of the Durandal-class.” The Marshal shuffled the folders, bringing a different folder to the top of his stack. “The admiralty has finalised enough of the design that we need to commit to where they’re to be built.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve had some thoughts there. We’re looking at upgrading Panpour or New Syrtis.”

“Yes, either yard will need some upgrades to manage that.”

“Expensive upgrades. One moment.” Peter rose and walked to his desk, checking one of the files that had been waiting for him when he got back from Galax. It was classified as need to know, and until now even Bishop Sortek hadn’t needed to know. He carried it back and handed it to Bishop. “Victor still has some friends inside ComStar, enough that we knew who to talk to. We’ll be upgrading both yards, but Panpour gets the contract for the Durandal.”

Sortek opened the folder and scanned the contents. His eyebrows lifted. “I see. Well, they can afford to finance it. We might find that New Syrtis becomes a target if it comes out that we’re building a warship for them there.”

“A warship yard will always be a strategic target and George Hasek has been backing upgrades there.”

“Yes.” The older man paused and drank from his mug, then continued. “But the Word of Blake aren’t necessarily going to be provoked by building AFFC ships the way they will by building this… what’s a Faslane-class?”

“It’s a yardship. Essentially a mobile shipyard,” Peter explained. “The ComGuards have been struggling to maintain their warship fleet since they lost control of the Titan shipyards, so they’ve agreed to very favorable terms in exchange for us building at least one yardship for them.”

“And if we build one, we can build more.”

“Given how many of our warships had to fight through the latter stages of the Civil War with serious damage, the ability to move a shipyard to them and make more in-depth repairs than their crews can manage unassisted could pay off down the line. It’ll be years before we have any but…” Peter trailed off.

Sortek closed the folder with a snap and reached for his pen again. “I trust you won’t be offended if I say that I’m impressed. At a minimum, we save Ways and Means the cost of the upgrades to New Syrtis shipyards and gain some valuable technical data. That’s well worth the impact on jumpship production.”

“Which should be minimal.” Peter was amused to see the Marshal tick one box and asterisk the other. “So, what’s last on the list?”

“That…” His champion looked uncomfortable. “There is some discontent within the Deneb Light Cavalry.”

Peter blinked. “Which command?”

“All of them. To varying degrees.”

Rubbing his jaw, Peter sat back in his seat. The Deneb Light Cavalry had served the AFFS loyally since the fall of the Star League. A lone SLDF regiment had become a powerful corps, but the last few years had not been kind of them - in fact, they’d gone from six commands to three during Peter’s own adult life. “Is this about retiring the Tenth and Fifteenth’s colours?” The two RCTs had fought against Peter and for his alleged sister, one of them right here on New Avalon.

“It’s a factor, sir, although I don’t think it’s the main factor. No one really expected you to rebuild them given their last service. There was some hope that you might announce the formation of a new Fifth DLC, but that has been pushed back…”

“So what are they looking for?!” he demanded.

“There’s voices within the brigade, particularly the Fourth, that are suggesting following the Eridani Light Horse and returning to the SLDF.”

Peter bit back his initial response and rubbed the brow of his nose. “And not in a ‘resign their commissions and walk to the nearest SLDF recruiting station’ way?”

“No sir. En masse and with their hardware.”

“God damn them.” He met Sortek’s eyes. “That would be a mess that we don’t need.”

“The Fourth were originally an SLDF regiment.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “I know. Let me think about how we -”

A chime from his desk interrupted.

“It’s never just one thing.” Peter went to the desk and tried not to snap. “What is it?”

“Lord Allard is here with an urgent matter, your highness.”

“...send him in.”

The double doors to the office swung open and admitted Quintus Allard. His eyes widened appreciatively as he saw Sortek. “Your highness, Field Marshal. I was hoping I’d catch you both.”

“What’s so urgent, Quintus.”

The spy turned and made sure the door was closed. “The Capellans have invaded the Free Worlds League.”

Peter was reaching for his coffee mug and missed, almost knocking it over. “What?! No, never mind. Stupid question. Where? With what?”

“Ohrensen Province and at least three ‘Mech regiments, plus echelons of garrison and/or pacification units.” Quintus paused for effect. “And at least one warship has been sent in to back them up. One of the Feng Huang-class cruisers.”

“Damn.” That was a powerful vessel, a Capellan-rival to their own Avalon-class cruisers. The Capellan warship fleet was small but it was of a high quality. “You’re sure?”

“The Second St Ives Lancers are one of the regiments. We’ve maintained some contacts with members of the regiment who remember we were our allies until Kathrina’s reign.”

Sortek shook his head. “Does the League have anything substantial there to stop him? That region isn’t aligned with any of the forming factions.”

“Two brigades of federal forces to stiffen the militia, one more or less neutral and the other leaning towards Corinne Marik. She has a destroyer there too, but FWLS Schrack is a refitted SLDF vessel. It won’t last long against a Feng Huang.”

Peter nodded in understanding. He wasn’t a naval officer but he’d been briefed in. The old SLDF had built its warships to operate as part of large battlegroups, each filling a specialised role. However, almost no one could field entire squadrons of warship any more and fighting alone such vessels fared poorly against more modern generalised designs. “Then Sun-Tzu can take the Ohrenson-Zion salient and then carry on into what’s left of the Chaos March or the Silver Hawks.”

“We’ll have to increase readiness for the units operating in the Chaos March,” warned Sortek. “Our detachments acting as peacekeepers in the Silver Hawks Coalition don’t have warship support though.”

“No, whatever Corinne Marik claims about one of our cruisers being there.” There was one Avalon-class cruiser that was unaccounted for though. If her spies had seen the Lucien Davion then it might be a clue at last to where the so-called ‘Archon-Princess’ was, but so far Isis hadn’t been able to validate that.

“And the Hawks have no warships of their own,” confirmed Quintus.

“The First Lord has been talking with the Blakists about the interned FWLN warships,” Peter thought out loud. “They’ve dropped hints that they’d be willing to hand most of them out to the factions but their price was retaining some for their own fleet. We may have to accept that or see Capellan bases threatening the Terran corridor.”


Chapter 37
Hyppo, Augustine
Silver Hawks Coalition, Free Worlds League
24 July 3066

“I caught your speech,” Isis told her cousin when they were in private. “Not bad.”

“Who are you comparing me to? Victor Steiner-Davion?”

She shook her head. “I was thinking it reminded me more of some of grandfather’s public appearances.”

Alys winced, as she well should. Janos Marik hadn’t been incapable of swaying a crowd, but he was more remembered for his embittered old age than the youthful charisma that had turned the League around during the 2990s.

“On his better days,” Isis clarified, letting the other Marik off the hook a little. “Admitting a mistake gracefully is always challenging but you came off about as well as we could have expected.”

“Thanks.” Alys removed her beret, twisted it slightly and put it back on at a less dapper but probably more comfortable angle. “I don’t imagine Marshal Van Creveld will be happy with me though. Even once we repair our salvage and get our wounded through the hospital, we’re down a lot of men and equipment for nothing.”

“Not entirely nothing. Even if the exact target was wrong, you’ve showed that the Coalition will mobilise if we’re attacked.” Isis patted her arm. “And you tied up the First Free Worlds Guards for weeks. That’s quite an achievement for our soldiers to boast of. Corinne may call it a victory but in all but the tactical sense your campaign has cost her far more than it has cost us.”

She watched her cousin process that and then the soldier shook her head. “That might be right in the long term, but right now I can still see our casualty lists… and whoever really hit our worlds got away with it.”

“For now.” Isis didn’t think the chances of find out who the actual raiders were was great unless they tried this again, but at least now they could be on guard. “But right now your troops need R&R. And that includes you.”

“I got plenty of rest on the dropship,” claimed Alys, but she didn’t meet Isis’ eyes.

“Writing letters all night to the families of the fallen?” The flinch told Isis that she’d nailed it. “I’m not saying don’t but that doesn’t count as rest and we both know it.”

“You’re unfairly good at that.”

“I damn well should be by now.” Isis shook her head. “Come on, Alys. It’s not just your troops that need a break.”

“At least with the Star League’s peacekeepers here, we probably won’t need to take the lead if there’s a raid here…”

“Indeed. And Brigadier Steiner will be most unhappy if you don’t give his Skye Rangers a chance to show off.” Isis lowered her voice confidingly, although no one else was in earshot. “He’s a lot like Victor like that. Never happier than when he’s in the field.”

“Do you know him well? He used to lead Victor’s Tenth Lyran Guards, didn’t he?”

“He did, but the Revenants weren’t fighting alongside Victor while I was with his staff. We met on Tharkad but only in passing.”

“So are you here to get better acquainted with him or is Galen back?”

Isis shook her head. “Really, that’s the best you can do?”

“Well you do seem to have a type.”

Galen has little in common with Sun-Tzu, Isis thought. And what would that have to do with Reinhart? The man was nice enough but a Steiner marriage would be politically disastrous right now and she didn’t even know him that well. “I’m here to rendezvous with Galen once he gets here from Irian.”

“Is that what you call it?” At least Alys was smiling a little.

She shook her head. “I’m going to visit worlds facing the Chaos March. With the news from Ohrenson, our neighbours in that direction are feeling nervous. Hopefully my presence and Galen’s will convince Sun-Tzu not to push harder. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll have the Lucky Thirteenth along.”

“I was going to say, a kind word only goes so far.” Alys’ smile slipped a little. “And while the Thirteenth are good, they’ll be outnumbered if Liao keeps going.”

“There are troops already stationed there. Given that it’s the Capellans, I think they’ll be glad of any support they can get.” She spread her hands. “We have to try. Our entire mission statement is to protect the League’s world against outsiders. That isn’t limited to the Lyrans. And we’ve had another invitation as well.”

“Who from?”

“The Saiph Triumvirate.”

Alys blinked. “You’re going into the Chaos March?”

Saiph, Tall Trees and New Canton had been border worlds between the Sarna March and the Free Worlds League. When the March collapsed in the face of invasion back in 3057, Count Ledo Balatine of New Canton had rallied the three worlds against pro-Liao insurgents and carved out a tiny pocket realm for himself immediately corewards of Zion province, which in turn was corewards of Ohrenson.

“Saiph is fairly peaceful, at least so far. But if Ohrenson falls - which seems probable - then Zion is next and after that Count Balatine will be facing Capellan troops on his border. It’s in his interests to form a common front - at least in the short term.”

“You’re sure Ohrenson will be lost?”

Isis grimaced. “The Schrack was destroyed defending Ohrenson’s orbitals. The Capellans haven’t used orbital bombardment yet but they have the option, as well as local superiority.”

“And you’re heading into the war zone?”

“You did your job, Alys. Now I need to do mine.” She smiled thinly. “At least no one expects me to do any of the fighting.”

Alys shook her head slightly. “And you’re sure this won’t cause any conflict with the Federated Commonwealth.”

Isis shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t imagine that they’ll be pleased if the Saiph Triumvirate has our protection, but the Archon-Prince will accept it because it’s better for him than the Capellans controlling those worlds, and he’s more focused on taking control of worlds that are relatively soft targets. Retaking Count Balatine’s domain would require an all out invasion rather than sending small detachments and supplies to aid existing pro-FedCom factions.”

Actually, she suspected that Peter Steiner-Davion was using the small conflicts as live fire training exercise for units had been battered during his civil war. Rotating a company of troops in to tip the balance in his favour while only doing so where the odds would heavily favour the AFFC detachment cost him very little in the long run and allowed inexperienced replacements to learn practical lessons that mere simulations and exercises would not. Granted, they’d still not be experienced in what they might face against true peer opponents, but it was still an improvement on never seeing action at all.

“There’s very little chance of encountering the AFFC,” she continued. “And if we do, it’s vanishingly unlikely they’d be a match for the Lucky Thirteenth in numbers. A full combined arms brigade is more than I’d consider taking with me if it wasn’t for the fact that we might run into the Capellans.”

Her cousin looked away for a moment and then sighed. “You’re the diplomat, cuz. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Well, you’ll not be going anywhere for a little while,” Isis told her. “So once you’ve had a rest, you can think of some contingencies in case I’m wrong and you need to mount a rescue party for me.”


Chapter 38

Dropship Tourmaline Desert, Zenith Point
Bernardo, Free Worlds League
7 August 3066

The concept of senior leadership retreating to a private room for discussion over a game probably conjured the idea of gambling with a deck of cards that was covered with a thin patina of grease that still carried the tobacco fumes from thousands of cigarettes being smoked around them in the past.

It would probably disappoint those with such an image in mind to see us now, Isis thought as she clipped two little dropships on magnets to a metal board that was clipped to the fold out table of her stateroom, securing her a critical connection for her strategy to work out.

Dropship and jumpship crews spent a lot of time in transit and they weren’t working all the time. That left them in need of a lot for entertainment, and in this case that included a locker full of board games that she and Galen had dug out for social time with the other passengers, some of them involved in their mission and others just going in the same direction.

Colonel Reissing had worried incessantly but Isis figured that you never knew who might turn out to be a useful connection in the future. Besides, it meant meeting new people who might have something to talk about. As a result, the Colonel had joined them whenever he could and been good enough company that she’d invited him along even today when it would otherwise be just her and Galen. As much as she enjoyed Galen’s company, some variety was also good.

Given that the game they were playing involved strategy, pattern-matching and luck, Isis would have expected Reissing to do better but so far he was struggling to connect two disparate travel networks across the stylised map of the Free Worlds League that made up the board. If he failed then not only would he miss the points for any objectives that required the link, he could even be penalised.

Galen reached over and placed not one but six jumpships on the board. That was worth fifteen points! “Have you played this before?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’ve spent literally years on dropships and jumpships with Victor. Sometimes even he ran out of work and had to resort to games for entertainment. I think I’ve played everything even remotely strategic on half the AFFC jumpship fleet by this point.”

“But have you,” she pointed at him, “Played this,” her finger moved to the game board. “Before?”

“Well, the set I played had a map of the Federated Suns, but the rules were the same.” He paused. “I’ve only two pieces left, so this is the final round by the way.”

“Argh!”

Neither Isis or Lloyd Reissing could beat what turned out to be a very substantial lead by the Tamar native, and by mutual consent the two of them started packing up the game once the final score was known.

Galen was gracious in his victory and raised the subject that had been avoided during the game. “Given the news from Ohrenson, do you think that it’s realistic to visit Zion or will you be aborting the rest of the tour, Isis?”

She looked down at the board she was folding. The salient formed by the two provinces appeared but none of the routes led into it: the game’s original edition had been published before the worlds were part of the Free Worlds League, and while the map on the board had been updated cosmetically, the provinces weren’t part of the gameplay.

That lack of importance seemed to be the opinion of Thomas Halas - while he had about a third of his forces on the Capellan border, his strategic reserves were moving towards his two rivals in what looked like the beginning of a major offensive against one or both of them.

Unsurprisingly, Kirc Cameron-Jones wasn’t paying the slightest attention to the invasion either. As far as Isis could tell, his interests began and ended with dominating the core regions of the League… border worlds could go hang.

That left Corinne Marik and the regiments based in the region were all at least notionally affiliated with her, but they were also halfway across the Free Worlds League from her centre of power. With the best will in the world, it would be hard for her to resupply or reinforce them.

“Even if she commits her warships, I’m not sure they’ll arrive in time for the remaining defenders,” she said at last. The defenders had started as two brigades of the Marik Militia and one of the Free Worlds Legionnaires. What information had filtered back to Bernardo - where the Tenth Marik Militia had been stationed before they headed for the sound of the guns, and where their dependants were still waiting - currently the numbers were even less favourable. “And given the Regulan threat to her shipyards at Ionus, I can’t see her doing that.”

“It might be easier if we were on better terms with her,” mentioned Reissing. “If the Silver Hawks guaranteed supply lines for her, it could even be the start of a combined effort against Liao.”

“That milk has already been spilt.” And Isis had to wonder now if Sun-Tzu had been behind the raids that had sparked the fighting on Marik. Either way, it had worked out well for him.

Galen shrugged and took the board off her, laying it out again. “Which doesn’t change the question. Do you plan to go there?” he tapped the worlds of Zion province. “Or for that matter, here?” His finger moved over into the featureless green of the Capellan Confederation (as the map claimed, though the region was now the Chaos March), the approximate location of Saiph.

Reissing cupped his hands. “My instinct is to go and support the sister regiments of my command,” he admitted. “But even with four brigades, we’d be badly outnumbered.”

Isis nodded slowly. “The latest news from Saiph has it that they’ve hired three regiments of mercenaries. If we could convince them to form a combined front, what would that do to the odds.”

The two soldiers exchanged looks. “Seven brigades… six to all practical purposes, given the losses. I think the Third Free Worlds Legion is in terrible shape,” Galen noted. That was the brigade that had been stationed on Kyrkbacken, one of the Ohrenson province worlds, when the invasion began. “It would give us a parity with the ground forces that Sun-Tzu has committed, but he can call in reinforcements… and then there are the warships.”

Isis nodded. “I’ve put as much pressure as I can on the contacts I’ve made with the Word of Blake, but even if they gave back all the warships that are interned, we’d have to crew and support them. I’ve no idea what state they’re in.”

“Battle damage while they made for Gibson and Terra,” Galen listed on his fingers. “Internal damage if the crews fought over the decisions. Any systems stripped by the Word - or even just taken apart so they could look at them.”

Reissing winced. “That’s a worst case scenario. And the ships have crews.”

“About a third of them have been repatriated to various combatants, and another third are wearing the colours of the Word of Blake Militia now,” Isis told him. It seemed she had better insight than he did into the Blakist situation now - which would make sense. The - call them what they were - spies watching Reissing had shown him backing off from his previous flirtation with the movement rather than see his loyalties be put further in doubt.

“So even if they were returned they might not be any use,” he realised.

Isis nodded and picked up the board. “How long do you think it’ll be before Ohrenson and Kyrkbacken are untenable?”

“Honestly, they’re doing well not to have given them up already. I’d expect the fighting to be in Zion province by next month,” Galen told her.

“Then going there now wouldn’t help very much,” she decided. “Instead we’ll head directly for Saiph and see if they’re willing to form an alliance against the Capellans. I’ll send a message back to Marshal van Creveld and see if we can get any other reinforcements. Perhaps if we can deploy additional fighter wings and assault dropship squadrons it might make Sun-Tzu unwilling to risk his warships. He only has a small fleet of them.”

Of course, he’d been willing to risk one unsupported over Sarna, she remembered. At the time he’d said that warships he couldn’t use weren’t worth the investment made in them. But now he was facing a much higher risk of conflict with the Federated Commonwealth…

Am I putting my escort at risk on the basis of wishful thinking? She shook her head slightly. “If we don’t stop Sun-Tzu somehow, he’ll keep coming,” Isis declared firmly. “Galen, I know the chances are slim but please ask the Commanding General if he can arrange for any warships to be sent under SLDF colours.”


Chapter 39
Hyppo, Augustine
Silver Hawks Coalition, Free Worlds League
19 August 3066

Reinhart had gotten used to Alys Marik visiting his headquarters for one reason or the other. Not only were they both commanding military forces on the same world (and her regiment had been fighting for their life against his nation only a few years before), but Alys was also the ruler of the world.

However, those visits were usually scheduled in advance so he was surprised when his aide interrupted a meeting with his cousin Sabine to advise that Colonel Marik was outside.

“Are you making friends with her?” Sabine was visiting in her role as the senior officer among the peacekeepers stationed in the Silver Hawks Coalition - outranking Tai-sa Nelson of the Second Genyosha; Colonel Nichole of the Wolf Dragoons’ Epsilon Regiment; and, of course, Reinhart himself. It was an added responsibility on top of her already being absurdly young to command a Regimental Combat Team - and she was rising to the challenge in ways that made him envious… and occasionally outright jealous. He wasn’t proud of those moments, but pretending he didn’t have them wouldn’t make it so.

With a shrug he nodded to the aide to admit the commander of the Krushers. “We’re on better terms than I feared given her last XO apparently decided to wage a one-man war against the Commonwealth.”

Sabine’s grey eyes narrowed. “Bernstein?”

“Yes.”

Alys Marik hadn’t been with the Krushers when they were all but shattered on Arcadia, but she still had an edge of distrust in her dealings with Reinhart and - as far as he knew - other AFFC officers. It was their brother officers that had fought and killed Kristen Marik and her two elder children. On the field of battle, as far as anyone knew, not that it probably mattered. The Krushers had been under contract to the Lyran Alliance and had fought faithfully under that contract until a particularly bigoted officer had decided the fact a Marik led them and had dared protest his orders to bombard Coventry Military Academy made the Krushers his enemy.

It hadn’t worked out well for Colonel Walker, but the Krushers had paid a much heavier price.

That edge was gone though as she entered his office. “Brigadier General Steiner.” She paused on seeing Sabine. “General Steiner.”

“Colonel Marik.” Reinhart rose to his feet and they exchanged salutes.

“May I enquire if you’ve been keeping up on the Capellan invasion?”

“It’s of some interest,” he admitted. “Please take a seat. Has there been a new development? It’s possible some news hasn’t reached us yet.”

She accepted the seat. “The attack on Ohrenson wasn’t a diversion but it did draw our attention from a second wave of troops moving in. Zion Province has been hit hard and the Tenth Marik Militia is withdrawing rather than get trapped behind a blockade backed by one or more Capellan warships.”

Sabine muttered something in German. Reinhart hoped that Alys didn’t understand it, because she might take it as a criticism of the FWLM when he was fairly sure his cousin meant Chancellor Liao. “Is your cousin safe?” he asked, hoping that Alys would focus on him.

“She made the decision that Zion Province wouldn’t hold,” Alys told them. “So after visiting Berenson, she chose to go right to the final planned visit - Saiph.”

The two AFFC officers exchanged looks. “Has Saiph been attacked yet?”

“So far as I know, no. Probably it will take a few weeks for the Capellans to consolidate and bring in garrison forces to secure their gains. But once they do, Sun-Tzu has momentum on his side. He’ll be looking at moving either against us, or Saiph, or both.”

“Saiph has the Dismal Disinherited under contract,” volunteered Sabine. “Three regiments of mercs - good mercs. They won’t lose easily.”

Reinhart nodded. “But if Sun-Tzu repeats the tactics he used against the Sarna Supremacy - and it would be consistent with how he’s handled Ohrenson and Zion - then he can use his warship advantage to blockade planets and pin forces down, then hit each in turn with overwhelming forces. How many additional regiments does he have from the attack on Zion?”

“Three additional ‘Mech regiments.” Alys shook her head. “Two of McCarron’s and a mercenary regiment - Lockhardt’s Ironsides. That brings him up to seven regiments to spearhead his attack. Even if Isis added the Thirteenth and the Tenth to the defense, those aren’t good odds.”

“The Tenth Marik Militia? I thought that they favoured Corinne, wouldn’t they pull back into the League if they can’t hold out?”

“I would have thought so, but with Oriente guarding their border and our own relations… poor, Isis claimed she had information that they intended to swing through the Chaos March and negotiate passage across the Coaltion once they were clear of the Capellans. And Saiph is a logical place for them to go.”

Sabine groaned. “You’re telling me that the Coalition’s foreign minister, who is also Sun-Tzu’s former fiancee, is now right in the path of his advance and the forces available to defend those worlds are mostly mercs and local militias, plus her bodyguards and a regiment that’s already been mauled and likely sees Isis as a traitor?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Reinhart rubbed his own forehead. “I take it our deployments may need to be shuffled if Marshal van Creveld is moving more regiments to that border.” The Silver Hawk’s main focus so far had been interior industrial worlds and coverage of the border with the Federated Commonwealth. The five Star League units were the bulk of the forces facing Corrine Marik’s positions and the little corner of the Coalition facing Halas’ Protectorate allies and the Capellans had been distant third in priorities so far. “Particularly if Count Balatine agrees to a treaty with the Coalition.”

“At the moment there aren’t going to be any further deployments.” Alys’ face was tight. “The Eagle Regiment is already moved out to Bernardo to rebuild and the Marshal has refused to send any further forces into the region unless the Capellans strike at our current defensive perimeter.”

“Excluding Saiph?”

She nodded grimly. “If they sign up, she’s only willing to station the Lucky Thirteenth there. I can’t even take the Krushers there - even if I had permission, my dropships and jumpships have been yanked ‘temporarily’.”

Reinhart’s cousin tilted her head. “Trust issues after how you went after Marik.”

“I didn’t go rogue in that operation, it was fully authorised.” The young Colonel looked aggrieved at the suggestion. “But if Sun-Tzu manages to capture Isis, he’d have considerable leverage. He might even be able to use her as a figurehead for a campaign to seize the captain-generalcy. That would tear the Coalition apart internally and I wouldn’t be surprised if Thomas Halas felt he had to invade us preemptively, while Corinne and Kirc Cameron-Jones are still fighting each other.”

The Regulans had secured Atreus and their Prince had issued further declarations that he was the rightful Captain-General. Surprising no one, the effect on his rivals had been negligible, forcing him to commit his forces further. His next target after Atreus had been the nearby system of Ionus, one of the League’s major shipyards, and it had proven to be a much tougher nut to crack. Rather than throw her forces piecemeal into the battle for Atreus, it appeared that Corinne Marik had predicted this attack and concentrated her reserves there. The result was a meat-grinder that showed every sign of tying up the Regulan Hussars’ main mobile elements for the foreseeable future - unless Cameron-Jones gave up and withdrew.

Reinhart wouldn’t have bet a single kroner on the Prince of Regulus backing down - after all, a kroner was still a valid coin for the next few years, despite the speed with which the Archon-Prince’s new currency was being rolled out. “Are you asking us to send forces to support Saiph?” he asked. “That’s considerably beyond our remit.”

“It’s kind of a grey area,” Sabine sounded less opposed. “We’re assigned as peacekeepers for the Silver Hawks Coalition. If the Saiph Triumvirate were to join the Coalition, then our responsibilities would extend to them.”

She wasn’t wrong, but: “If they do, yes. But that requires both Count Balatine’s agreement and - what sort of validation does the Silver Hawks Coalition have for new members?” Reinhart hadn’t actually looked into that.

“Previously it was a unanimous vote of all the members,” Alys told him. “But that’s not really workable with the way it’s been expanded. Until a new provision is agreed, the Foreign Minister can sign treaties with plenipotentiary authority. So as soon as Isis gets him to the negotiating table…”

“Yes.” The AFFC general confirmed. “Unless he decides he’s better off making a deal with Sun-Tzu. But setting that aside, the other issue is the Capellan’s warships. Whatever Corinne Marik might think, I don’t have an Avalon-class cruiser in my hip pocket. Unless you can scare up one or more warships, sending reinforcements into the Triumvirate could be opening them up to being slaughtered before they can even reach the surface of a planet.”

Alys nodded. “So, if the Triumvirate joins the Coalition and if we can provide warship support, you’d be prepared to commit forces to a relief force?”

“In that case, I’d be willing to lead one myself,” Sabine agreed.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Reinhart sighed inwardly. On the one hand, he could understand Sabine’s eagerness to see action - particularly against the Capellans after how they’d handled the Sarna March and then St Ives. But if the AFFC and and CCAF started shooting at each other, it could spark an actual war. “We’d better at least warn the Archon-Prince and the Commanding-General about this,” he cautioned the two women.

They both adopted innocent looks. “Of course,” agreed Alys.

“Naturally,” Sabine told him. “Perhaps they can even rein the Chancellor in diplomatically.”

I’d have better luck betting on Cameron-Jones pulling his troops off Ionus, he thought.

Chapter 43
Saunders, Saiph
Saiph Triumvirate, Chaos March
5 December 3066

What was left of the drop-port couldn’t provide ground control for the descending dropships, but fortunately military dropships rarely depended on such signals and the landing pads themselves were largely intact. Intended to withstand the ravening fusion torches of dropships taking off and landing, it would have taken a truly impressive level of firepower to do more than chip inconsequentially away at them.

Sabine Steiner emerged from the first dropship to land, a towering Excalibur-class vessel, and led the reinforcements out from the cockpit of her Barghest, but the ‘Mech only needed to travel a handful of kilometres to reach Isis’ temporary command post in the city. The general’s command lance joined the battered guard force while Sabine entered what was usually a high school gymnasium.

“You arrived in the nick of time,” Isis said in greeting. She didn’t return the salute she was offered, instead taking Sabine’s forearms and pulling her forward into a hasty half-hug. “Thank you.”

“I gather it was close.” The tall blonde really did look a lot like her famous great-aunt. The Lyran-blue jumpsuit of a dismounted mechwarrior suited her, but Isis suspected that most clothes did.

Galen did salute. “I’m not saying we were about to collapse, but we were beginning to reach the point of having to make some decisions that would have been costly even in military terms.”

Even the lightest of military costs was measured in lives, Isis knew. “I take it the Lucien Davion made its escape.”

Sabine nodded. “The Capellan dropships will be in system for several more days but with their warship baling, I doubt they’ll consider turning around.” She lowered her voice. “Which is probably for the best.”

Isis nodded and drew her aside. “Some tea is within our resources,” she offered. “Let’s step out of the command centre and discuss what happens next.”

Unlike the gymnasium, which was cluttered with tables and staff officers compiling the damage done and available resources to make it good, the classroom block being used as accommodations was quiet. A simple screen cut the room Isis was living out of in half. Cots for her immediate staff and herself to sleep in were beyond the screen but that left room for tables and chairs. One table had an electric kettle and the makings for tea and coffee.

Galen pulled chairs back for the two women. “How did you get the warships from the Blakists?”

“Mansdottir cut a deal,” the Lyran officer told him wearily. “And Alys managed to pin both myself and Van Creveld down that they’d be used first to relieve your position. It’s fortunate that the enemy withdrew because we don’t have the crew for an actual naval engagement. Or the troops on hand for a major ground campaign.”

“You’re not short on dropships…?”

“Loaded with combat engineers and relief supplies. I had to strip dropships and jumpships of personnel to get scratch crews together for the warships and priority after that was filling out the carrier’s aerospace bays - it wasn’t easy to scrape two hundred or so fighters together on short notice but it’s the only real offensive force we have.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Galen admitted, looking a little chastened. “The original crew weren’t with the warships?”

“Enough for a cadre but we needed more than two thousand more personnel and I’m told it’s made quite a hole in the crews for Marshal van Creveld’s supply lines,” Sabine explained.

“As much as that will annoy her, stopping Sun-Tzu was probably worth it,” observed Isis, stirring her mug of hot chocolate. It wasn’t very good, even with all the cream she’d poured into it. “What deal did Mansdottir have to agree to?”

“Don’t shoot the messenger.” Sabine wrapped her hands around her own coffee. “The Blakists are keeping three of the warships in repayment of their investment in getting the warship fleet built up in the first place.”

Isis felt a scream nearly escape her throat and barely reined it in. “They basically robbed the treasury for over a decade and now they’ve demanded more?” That was still a bit shrill and she felt Galen’s hand on her elbow. A deep breath and then a mouthful of sweet, sugary hot chocolate also helped a little. “I suppose three ships down for three ships here is still better than dying or being captured by the CCAF. Which ships did they take?”

“The Nueva Badajoz, the Olympic and the Xanthos.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Those are all old SLDF vessels, unless I’m mistaken. Two old Aegis-class cruisers and… oh the Xanthos is going to sting!” The latter was a reconditioned battlecruiser of the Black Lion-class and one of the heaviest warships in the FWLN. Even after the Thera-class had been launched the Xanthos was still seen as the pride of the fleet.

“Look on the bright side, at least they’re not taking any of the newer construction,” Galen comforted her. “I’m a bit more curious about the larger picture though. How far has Sun-Tzu got. Without access to the HPG, our outside news has been limited.”

Sabine leant back, apparently considering this a safer subject. “I think he bit off more than he could chew. With his best regiments tied down here, he’s not really had the forces to secure New Canton or Tall Trees.”

“That’ll reassure Count Balatine.”

“On the less promising side,” the blonde warned - though she nodded in agreement - “The reason that he wasn’t pulling more forces forwards was so that he could consolidate his position in what used to be Zion and Ohrenson Provinces. What resistance remained after the federal forces withdrew has been destroyed. You’ll have quite a fight on your hands if you want to take those worlds back.”

“And that isn’t covered by our agreement with the Star League?” Isis asked rhetorically.

“Correct.” Sabine swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “I can moving the rest of my RCT over to help push the Capellans off the rest of the Triumvirate, but neither of the two provinces occupied were part of the Coalition and no one senior enough to try to make a convincing retroactive claim is feasible.”

“And our warships aren’t going to be a reliable counter to the Capellan navy for a while,” she noted a little bleakly. “Although the longer it is before he notices that, the better our chances get. I hope someone gets their act together - he’s taken six worlds but as many more are at risk before he runs into Orloff, the Protectorate or Corinne’s holdings.”

“Now there I have -”

Sabine’s words were cut off as there was a knock on the door of the room. All three of them turned and looked, seeing a shadowy shape through the frosted glass. “Come in?” Isis called.

The door admitted Cindy Meyer, the Marik Militia colonel in fatigues - although she was wearing her dress sabre at her side, which wasn’t normal outside of a few of the more eccentric regiments. “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” she said politely, “But this is best done as soon as possible.”

“...what is?”

Meyer wrapped one hand around the hilt of the sabre, fingers white. Isis let her hand dip out of view below the table to the sidearm she’d never fired except on the practise range, still in a watertight holster at her own hip. She could see Galen and Sabine both tensing.

“Your grace.” Meyer’s voice was tight. “When Corinne Marik proclaimed herself captain-general, I was relieved. I thought we had a hope of sane and responsible leadership. When Thomas Halas escaped, when Kirc Cameron-Jones proclaimed himself her rival I thought they would readily be brought to heel and I was disappointed that more officers didn’t see it that way. When I heard that you and your cousin were holding dozens of regiments away from Corinne’s cause, I -” Her voice almost broke. “I thought you were a half-step from being traitors.”

She raised her hand, drawing the sabre in a reverse grip. “And when Sun-Tzu Liao sent his army and navy to seize entire provinces that had sworn themselves to her, my Captain-General did nothing!”

Isis stared at Meyer. There was resolve in the older woman’s eyes, but not any impulse to violence.

“But you did,” Meyer continued, painfully. “Even if it was a single regiment you came yourself. Rallied resistance to draw the line. And as much as I want to believe that you could have done this on Zion, the fact is that if we’d tried there we wouldn’t have had the Disinherited to even the numbers. And more than that, you came yourself.”

“I did.” Isis rose slowly to her feet, removing her hand from the holster, although gripping the back of her chair as a readier weapon if Meyer was indeed going to do something rash. “As Alys did on Marik - or my uncle Jeremy on Arcadia.”

Cindy Meyer placed the sword upon the table, releasing its hilt to fall heavily on the surface, between the mugs. “As a Marik should.” Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I’ve spoken to my officers, those who remain. And the senior survivors of the Third Legionnaires and the First Militia. And they agree with me. My sword, and theirs, are yours to command.”

Isis felt her jaw drop slightly. She swallowed. “You realise I have no intention of going to Atreus, or claiming the throne my father was once voted onto.”

“It’s enough that you’ll use us to guard the League,” Cindy Meyer told her.

“Colonel Meyer’s forces aren’t the only ones that have confidence in you,” interjected Sabine Steiner. “I’ve also been asked to convey that Bernardo, Park Place and Ibstock - the worlds most at risk if Sun-Tzu pushes further into the League - have requested membership of the Silver Hawks Coalition. While I gather it requires your signature to be formal, the Tornadoes Regiment and the Hematite Guards are both being deployed to reinforce the new border.”

Isis lowered her eyes. So this was victory. It still tasted bitter… but perhaps there was just a little sweetness beneath that. She lifted the sword and was about to hand it back to Meyer in acceptance of what it bespoke, but the officer unclipped the scabbard and handed that over again.

“Keep it,” she told Isis. “Maybe it’ll remind the next people you’re talking to, that you’ve got true steel in you.”

Sabine cleared her throat. “There’s one more thing… about your Uncle Jeremy…”


Chapter 44
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
20 December 3066

“How is Tamarind holding up without Jeremy Brett?” asked Peter as the briefing on the situation of what now looked increasingly like the former Free Worlds League began.

“Photon Brett-Marik has stepped into his father’s shoes as the military leader of their alliance,” Quintus reported. “That wouldn’t be my preferred way of mourning, but his credentials are excellent and no one can doubt his commitment to fighting the Marians.”

The Marshal of Tamarind had managed to save Kendall and its factories, swaying the world and its neighbours to join defensive pact that he and his wife had formed. However, war played no favorites and an air strike by Marian fighters had caught his command post on the move as his regiments pressed forwards towards the enemy landing zones. Arguably, his death had allowed the invaders to escape with less in the way of losses but it was still a bloody nose for House O’Reilly’s ambitions to take advantage of the Free Worlds League’s civil war.

Catherine folded her hands together on the table in front of her. “How are the rest of the Brett-Mariks?”

“The duchess is taking it hard.” Quintus consulted his notes. “She’s cut back her public appearances, with some of the more critical ones handled by her elder son Reginald.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. “Are we looking at any potential clashes between Reginald and Photon - Therese Marik seems to have been promoting her younger son’s career over his brother’s.”

“It seems unlikely. Reginald Marik may be the formal heir to the ducal title but he appears to prefer taking a background role. Our expectation is that he’ll stand aside when the time comes for his mother to hand over political power.”

“I suppose there’s precedent for elder brothers doing that,” George Hasek noted from his place at the table.

“Reginald and Photon are considerably older than my siblings,” Peter reminded him. “I suppose they know their minds at this point. Are either of them likely to take an adversarial stance towards us?”

Quintus shook his head. “They’re hardly our friends, but they’re both very much aware that they have a great deal to lose if they wind up at odds with the Federated Commonwealth. Even reinforcing garrisons along our shared border would put them in a difficult position unless they can build their forces up further.”

“If Bernstein’s raids move into that area we may not have a choice, but for now we have enough concerns.” The Archon-Prince sat back in his chair. “What other new developments are we seeing?”

“Thomas Halas has convened a parliament on Oriente, representing all the worlds that currently recognise him as Captain-General, along with a few that don’t.” Quintus’ smile was cynical. “We expect similar from Corinne Marik and Kirc Cameron-Jones - whether the latter will use Atreus or Regulus is unclear. Until now they’ve all held off in hopes of bringing together a full representation to sanction them as Captain-General but Halas seems to recognise that there’s no short-term likelihood of that. Or medium-term. We may be seeing the current divisions normalising.”

“In principle I deplore civil wars,” muttered Peter, “But in practical terms, a divided League is almost entirely to our benefit.”

“The Mosiro worlds have elected to join the Duchy of Andurien,” continued the intelligence officer. “That frees them to push further towards worlds that haven’t picked a side so far. Both Emma Centralla and Sun-Tzu Liao have extended formal recognition of the Duchy’s independence but, at least so far, the Duchess is keeping a good chunk of her armed forces facing them.”

“The gift of Saiph keeps giving?” enquired George, getting a nod of agreement from Duke Felsner, who was overseeing the delicate consideration of whether Peter should follow the lead of Centralla and Liao in opening relations with the breakaway duchy, and on what terms. The Duke of New Syrtis tugged on his cavalry mustache. “I didn’t think much of Isis Marik, but she’s the first person in a long time to tell Chancellor Liao no and make it stick.”

“I can’t exactly give her a medal, as much as the notion appeals,” Peter told him. “I can probably arrange something for Sabine Steiner though. Hohiro Kurita wasn’t delighted by her initiative but he knows damn well that it serves him better to have this reported as a successful SLDF operation than as House troops going rogue while on Star League service.” He took a deep breath. “Anything else urgent going on in the League quadrant?”

“Those are the major points, sire.”

He nodded. “Alright, let’s move onto the Capellans.”

“Chancellor Liao continues to deny any knowledge of the identity of the cruiser that was supporting his forces on Saiph. Allegedly they simply arrived with credentials that were accepted at face value.”

“I suppose we can take this to mean that he’d rather be taken for a fool than for an active conspirator,” muttered Hasek.

“That’s been his pattern of behaviour since Outreach,” Quintus pointed out, apparently unconcerned that he was discussing his own first cousin.

Then again, it hadn’t been conclusively proven that Kathrina wasn’t Peter’s biological sister so who was he to complain about someone else’s family? “Does it seem likely he’ll be pressing further?”

“At this time he seems more inclined to consolidate. Six more worlds for the Confederation lets him paint it as a triumph and our sources suggest that he’s wary that our troop movements are preparations for an invasion.”

Hasek made a face. “If only he was right.”

Peter sighed. “There are only two things restraining me from going ahead with that, George. Firstly, there’s a very real chance that Clan Wolf will resume Operation Revival in May - and if they get any traction the Jade Falcons and Ghost Bears will likely join in just to keep Vladimir Ward from getting to Terra before them.”

“In name only,” mumbled Catherine.

“Pardon?” Duke Felsner looked baffled at the non sequitur.

“Oh, sorry. I was thinking that since we have Clan Wolf-in-Exile already, the other half of the Clan should be called Clan Wolf-in-Name-Only.”

Several people in the room were obviously restraining themselves from laughing. Peter didn’t bother and once he’d broken ranks the meeting was interrupted by some much welcome amusement. Catherine didn’t seem offended, instead looking rather satisfied.

“I must tell Khan Kell that next time we talk,” mused Peter. “Where was I… oh yes, the Star League would probably complain if we invaded the Capellans on a grand scale. So as much as I’d like to re-enact Operation Rat, the most I can offer right now, George, is that if we get a decent excuse then I’ll authorise localised offensives - the sort of thing that James managed against the Combine a few years ago.”

“I’ll have plans ready.” The Duke of New Syrtis looked anticipatory. “After all, if you have the bulk of the AFFC facing the Clans, he may think he has an opportunity.”

“If that happens,” Peter told him, you have first call on our strategic reserve, and you can draw on forces from the units in the Chaos March and Outworlds March as well. That’ll give you more or less equal numbers to the entire Capellan Confederation Armed Forces.”

Honestly, unless Sun-Tzu Liao stripped his borders with Andurien, Oriente and (now) the Silver Hawks Coalition, he’d be hard pressed to match the thirty-plus commands that would be remaining in the Capellan March, backed up by six warships.

“And if he is that foolish, then as soon as we have the Clans neutralised, I’ll send reserves back to reinforce you,” he continued. “I am quite done with Sun-Tzu Liao and it would be very satisfying to find out what part, if any, he had in Kathrina’s madness by tearing the secrets out of his own palace.”

“You’re planning on crushing them then?”

Peter nodded. “They’re occupying worlds of the Federated Commonwealth and the Jade Falcons have invaded us twice despite the Truce of Tukkayid. If Clan Wolf doesn’t start something by the time of the next Whitting Conference, I don’t see any reason that I shouldn’t deal with the Falcons at the minimum. Victor and I discussed this after their last attacks and we’re confident that they haven’t recovered yet from the losses that they took then. I’ve no intention of giving them the time to do so.” He paused and looked at George Hasek. “And with the Falcons neutered, I’ll have a much freer hand with Sun-Tzu Liao.”


Chapter 45
Little Paris, Dieudonne
Silver Hawks Coalition, Free Worlds League
20 January 3067

The Silver Hawks Coalition had never had a formal gathering place previously, but with dozens of new provinces represented the need was there. A permanent capital was still in question but for now the problem had been handled by taking a leaf from House Davion’s book and buying out an entire resort.

Isis hadn’t believed Victor at first when he told her that his father’s ancestral home had been an Arthurian resort at one time, but research had borne it out. Lucien Davion, the legendary first President of the Federated Suns, had been one of the backers of the project (which had assumed vastly greater interstellar tourism than had actually resulted from the formation of interstellar realm) and when the consortium faced bankruptcy, the other partners had been bailed out by Lucien’s son Reynard.

Little Paris was nothing like as grandiose. The owners had hoped to appeal to young couples, with a romantic setting based on fanciful ideas of the fabled city of lights, but they’d also only really expected to draw tourists from the rest of Dieudonne. Nonetheless, the tides of war meant that they’d been having trouble staying in the black financially and purchasing the site had been a relative pittance. While Isis hadn’t checked the books personally, she’d been advised that it had cost almost as much to upgrade the security.

As a result, the Coalition’s leadership were gathered in a palace modelled on Versailles. By modern standards it was tiny and lacked basic amenities like a ‘Mech hangar but it wasn’t as if Isis felt that lack personally. Marshal Van Creveld still had a lance standing at the ready outside the building - a not entirely ceremonial role.

Rhys de Bruys called the meeting to order at a podium set where a ceremonial throne had been placed at one time. Diplomacy had required that the chair be removed - unless speaking the three heads of the coalition sat together on the window side of the hall, while the other members of the council were seated facing the podium. Isis would have enjoyed having the light from the windows behind her but it was simply reflected into her eyes by the mirrors on the wall across from her.

“Duchess Marik, I believe that this matter falls in your bailiwick,” the President of Danais concluded and stepped aside graciously.

Rising to her feet, Isis went up the low steps to the podium and turned to face the crowd. Good lord, when had they reached the point of being a crowd? It hadn’t been that long since they were a scant few men and women gathered in the Marshal’s garden.

“My lords, we have been presented an offer.” She looked around, seeing allies and obstacles. Those who would welcome what she had to present and those that would object. In the darkness of the night she was sometimes unclear which side she stood on the matter and therefore who she counted as her side. Which presumably left her in the middle ground that would sway until the matter was decided. She saw Alys among those seated. Another undecided - her cousin saw the logic but it was hard, so hard…

Isis tried to hide her nerves. “As advised before this meeting, Archon-Prince Peter Steiner-Davion has offered us full recognition as representing the interests of the Free Worlds League in regards to our worlds and provinces. While our representation on the Star League Council is not his to decree, this would include the mutual defense and trade treaties under the Star League and a guarantee of our borders.”

She saw Count Balatine stiffen, understandably so. Saiph had always been within a jump of the Federated Commonwealth’s stronghold on Nanking. But with Elgin and Hsien rejoining the massive state, the Triumvirate was now cut off from what little remained of the Chaos March.

“It also includes a partial resumption of payments towards the loans taken out by the Federated Commonwealth in 3051,” she continued. Those payments had been suspended when it was no longer clear which government should be receiving them - the three Captain-Generals would undoubtedly have claimed the income for their warchests. “Specifically twenty percent of the repayments will be directed to the Coalition. My understanding is that other parts of the Free Worlds League will similarly receive portions of the repayment.”

Isis could see a few heads move as that was considered. Greed was perhaps understandable - the economy of the entire League was struggling with the loss of trade. It was naive to think that an influx of cash would solve the matter but it was also very human. “However, this would be taking a strong stride towards sovereignty of the Coalition in it’s own right as a state, rather than as part of the Free Worlds League. I therefore propose that we should consider our alternative options before voting on the offer.”

“Are you suggesting we join the Regulans?” a querulous voice objected.

She turned her head slightly to the direction, as if she had seen the speaker. “Given Prince Kirc Cameron-Jones is stripping away provincial authority in favour of his own I doubt that such a measure would have great support but we should at least put the matter to a vote. May I have a show of hands by those in favour of recognising the prince as our Captain-General.”

Not a single hand rose.

“Against?”

If anyone abstained, Isis didn’t see them. The opposition to the Regulans should warm Corinne Marik’s heart: if that had passed then it wouldn’t have guaranteed a victory for Cameron-Jones but it would have almost certainly have left the Marik-Stewart faction crushed between the Silver Hawks and the Regulans.

“I don’t think that anyone this side of Regulus is surprised to find that the motion fails,” De Bruys muttered from behind Isis, who had to restrain a laugh.

She confirmed the outcome with a deadpan expression that left a few of the council laughing in her place. “To be fair then, let us consider the other candidates. Next is Corinne Marik, our nearest neighbour. We have, of course, had a difficult history so far with her faction but it has been established that this is likely not something she can be blamed for.” Isis saw Alys wince at that. “If anyone feels that we should throw our weight behind her, please raise your hands.”

A few hands actually did go up, invariably from representatives of democratic provinces whose representatives had insufficient influence to move their governments towards Corinne instead of the Coalition - or who might be reconsidering their choices now that it looked as if the conflict wasn’t going to resolve quickly.

Isis nodded. “And those against.” Once again, there was an overwhelming vote against. “Motion fails. And now we come to Thomas Halas, who did rule quite well for more than two decades.”

“It’s also his fault we’re in this situation,” Marshal van Creveld declared, clearly audible although she wasn’t at the podium. There was a rumble of agreement from several parts of the room.

“Nonetheless, a vote please. Those who feel it is time to intervene and on the side of Oriente…?”

Once again the idea of throwing support behind one of the would-be Captain-Generals failed to secure any but the most tenuous of support from the Silver Hawks Coalition. While the region wasn’t the largest in territory, the Hawks now included many wealthy worlds and a good fraction of the League’s military output. If they had a shipyard to support their small warship fleet they’d be effectively self-sufficient in that regard and Isis knew that Marshal van Creveld wanted to create just such a yard with the funds promised by Peter Steiner-Davion.

Alys rose to her feet. “Ministers, fellow representatives. While I know that he is not actively seeking the post, may I impose upon you to similarly vote on the question of asking Photon Brett-Marik to serve as our Captain-General, uniting our coalition with that centred on Tamarind.”

“Out of order,” the Sirian representative snapped.

Isis raised her hand. “True, but not off topic.” The two statelets covered almost all the Lyran border, only excluding the Trinity Worlds, a tiny federation of worlds at the far edge that had decided for reasons that presumably made sense to them, to remain a distinct body and recall a regiment of mercenaries largely hailing from their worlds to act as their defenders. If the Rim Commonality was also swayed then such an alliance could very plausibly force Corinne Marik to the negotiating table. “All in favour of asking the Marshal of Tamarind to serve as Captain-General.”

Alys raised her hand and others went up around the room, almost twenty of them.

“And opposed, please.”

More hands rose, somewhat more hesitant than before and some of those present chose to abstain. But with substantially more than half of those present opposed, that killed the notion. “Motion fails,” Isis declared firmly, glad that there was at least a strong consensus. She would have hated to have to be casting a deciding vote.

Rhys de Bruys rose and moved to flank Isis, joined a moment later by the Marshal. “We now come to the proposed treaty with the Federated Commonwealth. I remind you all,” the president informed the assembly soberly, “That in accepting this treaty we will be formally expressing our sovereignty, if on a conditional level. While we aren’t going as far as House Humphreys of Andurien, to approve this treaty will render the Coalition effectively independent of the rest of the League until a single Parliament and Captain-General emerge.”

“If they ever do,” Anne-Marie van Creveld added harshly.

Isis gripped the podium with both hands. “The vote please. A show of hands to accept the proposed treaty with the Federated Commonwealth.”

Hands began to rise even before she had finished speaking.

Chapter 49
Kirin River, Irian
Silver Hawks Coalition
27 March 3067

“Once again, my congratulations,” Galen heard as he entered the ante-chamber to Isis’ office.

The SLDF had relocated their headquarters after Sabine Steiner had moved to intervene at Saiph, with leadership of the disparate task force transferred to Laura Nelson of the Genyosha. Officially, just to allow Sabine to focus on her new area of concern but command hadn’t been returned to her after it was clear that Sun-Tzu Liao’s overconfidence wasn’t quite suicidal enough to attack an actual SLDF deployment.

It was a bit of a mixed message though - Tai-sa Nelson had made it clear she’d cheerfully move her command, Reinhart Steiner’s and the mercenary elements of the SLDF to Saiph and take a crack at the CCAF given half an excuse. Not because she was rabidly anti-Capellan, just because she thought peacekeeping was blunting the Genyosha’s edge and some combat might correct that.

Galen would be perfectly happy to give her the chance if it came to that. He hadn’t lost the battle but nor had he covered himself with glory.

Sigmund Hughes left Isis office before Galen had found a seat to wait for his chance to meet with Irian’s duchess. The industrial magnate gave him what was probably a sincere smile. “Ah, Colonel Cox. May I hope that you’re here with more business for my company?”

“Not today, sir. But I expect that I’ll be in touch shortly. Our peacekeeping role here in the League doesn’t seem to be about to go away.”

“Just send word to me if there’s anything I can do to smooth the way,” Hughes assured him. “The SLDF will have our very highest priority as a customer.”

As opposed to the Silver Hawks Coalition? wondered Galen privately. “I believe we can do business.”

“That’s the name of the game,” the older man boomed and made an exit.

Galen glanced after him for a moment and wondered if Hughes had managed to get access to his recent messages from Hohiro Kurita. The SLDF’s other Regimental Combat Team was already on its way into the Free Worlds League now that the Rim Commonality had requested support, and plans to split the First RCT to create the Second RCT had been adjusted to reflect carrying out the expansion on site.

Now that had been changed again, with the core of a fourth Regimental Team to be established in the next year. It would mean hiring two regiments of mercenaries on a semi-permanent basis and, even with that, both RCTs would be understrength through to at least 3070. But even so, it would mean an increasing amount of the SLDF’s budget being spent in the Rim Commonality, the Duchy of Tamarind and - especially - the Silver Hawks Coalition, which had the most robust military manufacturing sector of the three.

Glancing at Isis secretary, Galen was waved in and he entered the office, closing the door behind him. The duchess behind the desk had a professional mask on her but the expression fell away once she saw it was him. “A busy day?” he enquired kindly.

“You have no idea… except you probably do,” she corrected herself. “What with Victor and all that.”

“It’s something like that. Commiserations on being elected as the head of Irian’s planetary government.”

Isis slumped back in her chair. “That sounds so much more sincere than the congratulations I’ve been receiving so far. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that this is what I came back to the League for.”

“Oh?” Galen looked at the chair facing Isis and then went past it to lean against the end of her desk. “I knew you’d spoken to Halas and to Omi before deciding to come here.”

“I wanted the wealth and power to be my own person.” She adopted a whiny tone. “Why did no one warn me that it came with responsibilities?”

“The previous decade or so wasn’t sufficient warning?”

Isis laughed at that. “I may be a little slow at times.” Then the amusement drained away from her. “Do you think less of me? That I came back out of ambition?”

“Power isn’t evil in and of itself.” Galen folded his arms. “It’s what you do with it - and what you do to obtain it - that can be… wrong.”

“Like Kathrina.”

That still sent a pang through him. Partly anger at how she’d sent him to what had nearly been his death, partly disappointment that she hadn’t been the person he thought she was - in character and perhaps even identity. And partly irritation at himself that despite ten years she still had enough hold on him that it hurt. “That’s certainly an example, although I can think of others.”

“I carved a slice of my home nation - my father’s nation - away and I’ve seceded in all but name. The parallels have been on my mind.”

Galen shook his head. “Don’t let Hughes or your other detractors do that to you. You’ve got people around you - Alys and Lloyd for examples - who will tell you if you’re letting power go to your head. Trust them, not the people who have a vested interest in tearing you down.”

Isis looked up at him, then pushed her chair back and got to her feet. Galen stepped back a little but she moved towards the window. “Would you be one of those people, Galen?”

He swallowed and then walked over to join her at the window, looking over at the garden. Staff were still putting the lawn back in order after it had been used as an impromptu parking lot. “I could be. If you want me to.”

She sighed. “Thank you. You’ll have to let me know what your next posting is. At least I can afford my own HPG charges now.”

That was a slight exaggeration, Galen knew. Even before she was a duchess, Isis had access to some Marik funds. Enough for any normal person to live in reasonable comfort. The problem was that she’d not been a normal person and her royal status required a level of security that she’d had to lean on patrons before. And now, the woman next to him was in a position where she could be the one offering that protection to others.

“Probably not so many of those,” he told her. “Hohiro isn’t stupid - at least for the next few years this is likely to be the SLDF’s major deployment. He’s asked me to serve as liaison officer to the Silver Hawks Irregulars - or should that be Silver Hawk Regulars now?”

Isis leant over and threaded her arm through his. “Marshal van Creveld is still arguing with General Thrall over that. I think we’ll see distinct brigades forming again now that we need something more permanent, but it’s unlikely I’ll have to get involved.”

“But, my point is, I’m not going anywhere in the next few years. After that, well…”

“A soldier’s life.”

“I’ve come a long way from the farm back on Tamar,” he agreed and felt her pull closer against him.

“Will you ever go back? Even I can see that the Archon-Prince is angling for a confrontation there.”

‘Even you’?, I think you under-rate yourself Isis. Even Hohiro seems to think that the recent AFFC deployments are just precautionary. “No, my family there has been dead since 3039 and the farm was in different hands by the time the Clans arrived. There’s not really much left for me there - the SLDF may send me back if we get involved, but that’s all. And as a liaison officer...”

“Would you be satisfied with that? There’s going to be room for command opportunities with the way the SLDF is expanding.”

Galen smiled slightly. “I’ve spent more time in a staff role than in command. There’s been some mention I might get a brigade in a few years but after Saiph I’m in no hurry.”

“Are you blaming yourself for that now?” she asked, looking up at him. “Everyone else seems aware that you did wonders holding the defenders together for months under the pressure that we were under.”

“I seem to remember a few other people doing a lot of that.” He shrugged. “I’ve not lost my nerve, but it came very close to being not enough.”

“You can’t make your life on what might have been,” she said wisely. “If so, I might still be hung up on Sun-Tzu.”

“Well I wouldn’t want that.”

Galen Cox yielded to impulse and leant down towards her. Isis Marik moved closer to meet his lips and nothing more was said in words.


--------------------
A/N: thus concludes the second arc of State of the Union: Fledglings Take Flight. The next arc has nothing written yet and isn't fully planned so there will be a bit of a wait for more

Author’s Note:
Thank you to FASA for creating Battletech, WizKids and CGL for keeping the setting going over the years, to HBS for their game and to the fanfiction community for giving me ideas.
I don’t own Battletech or the associated copyrights, I’m not making a profit off this so no one else should. Making fun of it, on the other hand…




Chapter 1
FCS Ardan Sortek, Odessa IV
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
5 April 3067

Archon-Prince Peter Steiner-Davion was in the unfamiliar position of having nothing much to do as he waited. Normally there was no shortage of documents to check, petitioners waiting for a quick chat and other minor tasks to fill stray moments of his day. Besides which, his schedule was generally planned well in advance so he could keep on top of the Federated Commonwealth’s affairs.

Today, however, he had little to do except sit and wait for the holotank to confirm readiness. He wasn’t currently on Tharkad or New Avalon, so he was somewhat insulated from the government bureaucracy. As a mechwarrior there was nothing he could really contribute to the running of the Federated Commonwealth Navy’s newest battlecruiser. And he wasn’t at leisure. The conversation he was anticipating was important. He’d prepared - perhaps over-prepared - for it.

Peter tried to focus on finishing the Capellan novel he’d been reading in snatches over the last few years, but he was having trouble focusing on the task of understanding the Mandarin text.

The chime announcing that the holotank was activating was a welcome one. He dropped a bookmark into place, passed the book to an aide and stepped into the waiting holotank. A few seconds later a holographic image of an older man joined him. Peter knew that hundreds of light years away, his own image had appeared in a similar holotank.

“The peace of Blake be upon you, your highness.” Precentor William Blane made a gesture that was probably some form of ritualistic blessing, rather than bowing or saluting as most people did when faced with the ruler of the largest realm in the Inner Sphere and probably among all humanity.

Peter inclined his head. “And upon you, Precentor.”

“I know that your time, and mine, are both more valuable than even the cost of this conversation.” Dozens of HPGs were in constant transmission to connect them, rather than sending small batches of recorded messages. The Federated Commonwealth had made extensive use of this technique over the last few years but it wasn’t cheap or easy… just necessary. “With your permission,” the head of the Word of Blake’s ruling conclave suggested, “Perhaps we need no further formalities.”

“That’s fine by me.” The younger man crossed his arms. “I’ve been informed of a problem, one that threatens both my own realm’s security… and the proposal to upgrade the Word of Blake’s participation in the Star League from advisory to full membership at the next Whitting Conference.”

That change had been requested by the Word of Blake after the Free Worlds League fell into civil war. While their headquarters had moved back to Terra almost a decade ago, the Blakist movement had still had a huge presence in the domain of House Marik and the struggle for dominance there was intertwined with their own internal politics. None of Peter’s intelligence agencies were precisely sure why the Conclave had decided that the neutral advisory position on the Star League Council no longer fitted their needs, but on the whole he’d supported the notion. The more his neighbours were committed to the Star League, the more they would lean towards diplomacy rather than direct attacks on the Federated Commonwealth. Or at least, so he hoped.

Thomas Halas had suggested that the Star League was a means of peacefully constraining the Federated Commonwealth from dominating the Inner Sphere. From Peter’s view though, he had very long borders to protect and his forces were stretched thin in places. With the looming threat of the Truce of Tukkayid, that currentlybound Clan Wolf not to attack him, expiring within months, the Star League served his own purposes well enough that he wanted it to endure.

Blane blinked. “I’m sorry to hear that. But it does appear that we have a mutual interest in resolving this problem. What is the nature of your concern?”

Peter snapped his fingers in signal and around them, the holotank filled with a tactical projection. The ‘battlespace’ was centred upon a gas giant, with more than two hundred moons of varying sizes orbiting around it. Something of a navigation hazard. Though he found it somewhat spectacular; like most of the human race, Peter had rarely approached a gas giant. But what he indicated was no natural wonder.

Around one of the smaller moons, tactical markers indicated weapon platforms, spacecraft and enclosed slipways. An entire naval base, hidden away on the fringes of this star system. “Odessa IV,” he advised Blane drily. “But I believe that what I’m pointing at may be known as the Ruins of Gabriel.”

The Blakist was a practised and accomplished politician. He still paled perceptibly.

Peter nodded and moved his finger. “And this is my response.” A small flotilla of icons bearing down upon the hidden shipyard. “A squadron of warships, with escorts, and carrying troops and engineers to take control of Gabriel.”

“That would be an act of war,” Blane murmured, looking stricken.

With a sharp gesture, Peter dismissed the images. “This is already an act of war, Blane!” he snapped. “The Word of Blake has a secret military base within one of the Federated Commonwealth’s systems - in striking range of my own capital!” Well, one of them. “You know damn well that this violates the terms of the Star League’s membership!” The redhead took a deep breath. “As I said, a threat to my security… and to your membership of the Star League. The other members of the Star League Council would doubtless be fascinated to hear about this. And deeply concerned about whether such bases exist within their own space.”

There were four other bases, Peter was sure, although this was probably the only naval base. If his information was accurate, at least one had been destroyed in a self-inflicted disaster since ComStar - from which the Word of Blake had schismed, taking ownership of the ‘hidden worlds’ - had founded them.

“The Ruins are a former ComStar facility,” Blane offered weakly.

Peter shook his head. “So?” That one word hung between them for a long moment. Alright, enough stick. Now to offer the man a carrot. “There is, I believe, an alternative to this being a damaging scandal. But that will require that you avert what could otherwise be a very nasty battle.”

He’d seen space assaults before, but that had been against defenses that were divided, with some of the forces ordered to fight him changing sides to support his seizure of the docked warships at Delavan. This would be against fanatical opposition. It was very likely that anything valuable would be destroyed, not captured. And while that would remove the Ruins of Gabriel as a threat, that was very much the minimum he was hoping to wring from this situation.

“You want to make a deal.”

“Well I am a Lyran.” On his mother’s side, at least.

“I see.” Blane sighed heavily. “I am not an absolute ruler, anything I agree to will require the consent of a majority of the Ruling Conclave.”

“We have… not quite an hour.” Peter consulted his watch. “Until 08:40 standard time today. I’d suggest you draft an order telling the base commander to stand down and welcome my forces, while your colleagues are waking up and getting up to speed.”

“That’s not enough time!”

“I’ve extended considerable courtesy to the Word in the past. Given that this is how you’ve repaid me, be glad I’m offering you this much.”

Blane’s face twisted. “I’ll make some calls.” He stepped out of the holotank and his image vanished.

Peter crossed his arms again and waited. He had to project confidence and resolution. Staying on camera was a gambit in and of itself.

It was also pretty boring. He looked to the aide from earlier, considering asking for his book back. No, that would be too much. It would be insulting to the Blakists and however mad he was about this base - and the government of Odessa III, who had been covering for it and were currently being woken up by the ground forces of his task force - he did want to make a deal.

It amused Peter to think that if Count Fisk of Odessa did try to inform his paymasters by HPG he’d have a hard time - the station was otherwise engaged in sustaining this conversation. At best the Count could alert Gabriel, and there was no way they hadn’t been aware that FCS Ardan Sortek and her escorts were out here. It had been a publicly announced exercise, after all. Hiding the staging of an attack force behind those was practically a tradition but Gabriel’s best defense had always been secrecy. They could hardly do anything except hunker down and hope that the warships wouldn’t spot anything.

It took just over ten minutes for Blane to return. Two windows popped up, flanking him, as 2-D vid-calls were spliced into the message. Peter recognised Alexander Kernoff and Anuska Brezhnic from his intelligence briefings. Not ideal, but workable: Kernoff was part of the One Voice faction within the Toyama sect - one of the Word of Blake’s extremists. Brezhnic, on the other hand, was one of the more moderate Counter-Reformists.

“Precentors.”

“Your highness.” Kernoff’s voice was flat. “You have an ultimatum for us.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “That is essentially correct. If you prefer, I can go ahead with attacking Gabriel base. It’ll be costly for me, but it’ll also make it impossible to hide what happened. And unless I grossly misread the situation, that’ll probably lead to the Word of Blake being expelled from the Second Star League.”

“And your alternative?” Brezhnic’s voice was flat. She obviously wasn’t happy… but she was a pragmatist.

Peter spread his hands. “The Word of Blake welcomes my personnel to the shipyard they’ve been restoring on behalf of the Federated Commonwealth. There’s a peaceful handover of the facilities, all of your people get to return safe and sound. You get to keep the vessels you’ve already restored from here… perhaps some of those still being worked on. I’m willing to negotiate on that.”

“From a position of controlling the yards,” said Kernoff, distrust evident in his tones.

“That’s right. Your organisation has to show me some good faith first. But tell me, has my word ever been false before?”

“Says the son of the Fox.”

Peter’s lips quirked at Blane’s use of his father’s nickname. “I’m very proud of my father, but I also remember what happened to my brother when he tried to emulate his stratagems. I don’t need to double-deal here. And by dealing honestly with you, there’s a chance we can rebuild the damage that’s being done here to our relations.”

The three precentors all looked aside, making them look shifty although they were probably simply consulting aides. Kernoff’s mouth moved silently, he must have muted himself.

“One other condition,” Peter added and saw their eyes snap back to him.

“I’m listening,” Blane replied after a moment.

“It’s remotely possible that none of you were aware of the illegal base here.” Blane had recognised the name but it was arguable he might not have known it was around Odessa IV. Peter didn’t believe that for an instant, but he couldn’t prove otherwise. “But it’s not plausible that your Precentor Martial didn’t know. So I’m going to have to ask that he stand down.”

“You can’t dictate the membership of our own leadership!” Kernoff’s voice had risen in anger. “Who do you think you are?”

“I know exactly who I am. What I am beginning to wonder is whether you understand the responsibilities you’re undertaking as heads of state. Your organisation has carried out an act of war and you don’t appear to have considered the consequences of that. I’m certainly not going to try to tell you who should replace St Jamais, and you can think of any excuse you like for his being replaced… but, as long as he’s leading your military, I have to consider that he’s an active threat to the Federated Commonwealth.”

“One moment please.” Blane nodded sharply to someone at his end and the signal cut out abruptly.

Peter slashed his own hand and saw the mute light in front of him. “Too much?” he asked, glancing aside at Amanda Steiner.

The commander of the Ardan Sortek - and sister of Tabitha Steiner, who had died fighting on New Avalon four years earlier - thought for a moment and then shook her head. “No, I think they’ll go for it.”

He respected Amanda’s ability to judge character. While her mother and grandfather were very much in Lisa Steiner’s camp - blaming House Steiner-Davion for the death of Tabitha - Amanda had chosen to respect the cause her sister had fought for. Like Sabine and Reinhardt, they gave Peter hope that the younger generation of House Steiner would back his faith in the Federated Commonwealth.

Of course, it helped that she was supported by other advisors and his own instincts. Cameron St Jamais was another Toyamist, and his presence on the Ruling Conclave gave the extremist wing of the Word of Blake two votes out of the five. Blane and Brezhnic would gain politically if they could arrange a more moderate replacement for him. The question was whether they could convince Kernoff - or bring the fifth member, Laura Chang, into the vote. Chang was something of a wild card but Peter thought she’d go for it - she was a more recent convert from ComStar and Blane had brought her into the conclave to try to maintain the thin balance of more moderate interests.

After a moment longer the Blakists came back into view, with a new window displaying the face of Laura Chang. Peter checked the mute light was off. “Precentors.”

Kernoff looked like he’d been chewing on a lemon, but he said nothing. Blane folded his arms. “We agree that Precentor-Martial St Jamais’ judgement has not been the best. We will ask that you trust us that he will be replaced within the next month. An immediate dismissal would be… too obvious and also too disruptive.”

Peter pretended to consider, rubbing his jaw, but then nodded. “That’s reasonable.”

“And exactly what ships the Federated Commonwealth receives will need to be discussed further.”

“That is understood.” Any ships would be gravy, as far as Peter was concerned - with one exception. “I’m happy to put discussions of that off until you’ve had more time to consider your exact position on the matter. However, you should know that we have identified a Tharkad-class battlecruiser among those being worked on. If you want to know why I  require that vessel to be turned over intact, then check your history books.”

Blane took a deep breath. “In that case, I’m sending you a signal that can be relayed to the commander of the shipyard, ordering him to surrender the base to your forces. I’d ask that you take matters slowly so he can explain the situation to his subordinates.”

Peter glanced at Amanda, who nodded. “Certainly. As soon as he confirms he’s received and accepts your instructions, we’ll slow our approach and discuss with him how we can arrange an orderly transition of the yards.”

There would be considerable caution, it would probably take days… but acquiring an entire shipyard for the Federated Commonwealth was more than worthwhile. Getting rid of Cameron St Jamais, a fanatic committed to destroying the Commonwealth at the first opportunity was even better. And if some warships were handed over, well Peter wouldn’t turn his nose up at that. He could probably live without the battlecruiser really, but there was no need to let the Word of Blake know that.

“In that case,” Blane noted, “I’d better start discussing how to explain this to the rest of our order. Anuska, would you mind remaining in contact with the Archon-Prince until he’s received that assurance?”

Making Peter pay for extending the call that much longer was petty, but he supposed it was fair to let the Blakists have small revenge. There were much worse ways for them to take this out on him...

*

Chapter 2
Tharkad City, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
13 April 3067

The cold snap of Tharkad’s weather was still tangible through glass when Sabine rested her hand against the window, looking out over the garden where the children played. She watched them run and laugh for a moment; and then turned to look towards the other women in the room, seated side by side on armchairs to one side of the chamber’s large hearth. There was a crackling fire there, supplementing more modern heating, and the couch facing the other two had been left for her.

She had no intention of sitting there to face their inquisition. She hadn’t been a child herself for many years. Better to be on her feet, looking down on them. “I have little enough time with my daughter. What do you want to talk about?”

“Is it hard to think that I want to spend time with my daughter?” asked Lisa Steiner. Sabine’s mother looked much like the archetype of the tall blonde valkyrie, the classic Steiner beauty. She’d fought most of her wars within the hierarchy of LCAF command, but Sabine knew that such battles were no less fierce than those on the frontlines.

“Wonderful.” Sabine turned, putting the window at her back. “Get a coat and we can go out and join them out there.” She jerked a thumb back to indicate the garden.

The other Steiner present set her tea cup down firmly. “There are some conversations that should be had away from children.”

“Like anything they might innocently repeat to their Uncle Peter?”

Sarah Steiner scowled. “It’s hardly treason to have reservations about the Archon’s decisions. The very young and naive can be confused about that.”

“Archon-Prince.”

“If you prefer.”

“And you’re the one who used the word treason,” Sabine continued, getting a wince from her cousin - aunt by courtesy alone. Sarah was one of the Borge-Steiners: she and her father, the retired but still influential Roman Steiner, were closely related to Adam Steiner. Both Adam and Roman's branches of House Steiner were descended from Simon Borge-Steiner, who had abdicated his claim to the throne on the very day of his coronation in favour of his sister Tatyana (who was the ancestor Sabine and most of the close branches of House Steiner). But Sarah’s grandchildren  - Amanda’s twins - were only a little younger than Sabine’s daughter Elissa, and House Steiner was a close-knit clan. It wasn’t hard to guess why she was mad at Peter. “But setting that interesting choice of word aside, what are your reservations?”

It was her mother who spoke up though. “It seems suspicious that he’s moved you out of the Lyran Guards. Have you considered that he may see you as a threat?”

For a moment she thought that it was a joke. Then her temper flared and she knew her eyes must have the flinty colour that marked her as about to lash out. The same expression she’d seen increasingly in her grandmother as Nondi Steiner grew older and more set in her ways.

No! I will rule my temper, not be ruled by it. Sabine took a deep breath. “That’s hilarious.”

Lisa shook her head, blonde hair loose around her shoulders. “You do realise that he’s aware that you were offered the throne after Katrina’s disappearance?”

“I should think so, I told him myself.”

It was the older Steiners’ turn to blink. “You told him?” demanded Sarah, sounding threatened. That was interesting - it shouldn’t affect her unless she had been associated with that little cabal and their proposal.

Back on balance, Sabine gave them a reckless smirk. “That Kathrina’s supporters had come looking for a figurehead so they could carry on with their noses in the trough, and that I felt that that was too high a price for sitting on the Archon’s throne. And anyway, I don’t covet his desk.”

Lisa reached out to a small china plate and took a cookie from it. “Please sit down, Sabine, you’re straining my neck.”

With the request made, a tacit recognition of her position as equal and not subordinate, the younger Steiner complied - lounging against the corner of the couch in a show of confidence. “Did it ever occur to you that sometimes something is just what it appears? The Twentieth Avalon Hussars are on their way to face the Jade Falcons, and he wanted a proven general to lead them after General Roberts got bumped up to command the Alliance Guards. The Slashers -” her Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards “- aren’t likely to see action right now so he can afford to send someone less experienced to bring them along.”

“You’re also going to be surrounded by officers you don’t know.” Sarah’s eyes were flat. “And the Archon is reckless with Steiner lives.”

“So this is about Tabitha,” Sabine accused, sitting straight up. “Aunt, even you should realise he had nothing to do with her death.”

“She was fighting for the Steiner-Davions.” Sarah declared with ringing finality. “And it was Peter’s own command that killed your grandmother, one of his most trusted officers. We don’t want to see more of our family killed for his ambitions.”

“If I took the throne back in sixty-three,” she told them. “Then I’d have had to do so over Gramma Nondi’s dead body. You do realise that, right? She was fixated on Kathrina being her sister returned; she’d have called me an usurper, however irrational it was. And you know damn well that Peter gave her every chance, starting from the day he had New Avalon under control, to step back and accept that Kathrina had disgraced herself and betrayed everyone who served her.”

“She would have listened to me,” insisted Lisa. “And Peter -”

Sabine gestured at them for silence and then pointed at the Steiner fist decorations around the hearth. “That emblem, Aunt Sarah. Do you remember where it comes from?”

“Of course,” she said in surprise. “Our ancestors adopted it back during the Second Soviet Civil War - the emblem of those fighting against an oppressive regime.”

“And Tabitha lived - and died - for those principles. Fighting a tyrant, against steep odds, because it was the right thing to do. Cousin Peter did everything possible - hell, things most people wouldn’t believe were possible - to get there in time to support the First Davion Guards. If he’d played it safe or smart, he’d have waited and come in with Ardan Sortek and the Assault Guards, but he went in ahead of that.” Sabine paused. “You and mother never fought on the frontlines. War kills people and it’s unfair to blame Peter for a war he didn’t start.”

Amanda sniffed but looked away. “I note that his sainted Ardan Sortek got a battleship named after him.” She sounded as if even she knew how pathetic a complaint that was.

Sabine couldn’t be bothered to correct her that the FCS Ardan Sortek was a battlecruiser, not a battleship. Or that Tabitha’s own sister had received the high honour of captaining the vessel. “And what’s your excuse, mother? While the Archon-Prince has been putting our nation together and making the name of House Steiner shine again, what have you been doing other than complaining about him spending money on Tharkad City’s power grid?”

She hid a grin at her mother’s embarrassment. Lisa had spoken eloquently about the waste of House Steiner’s funds on a reactor that was in fine shape… right before the official environmental report had revealed some major short-falls in the storage of sodium coolants and of radioactive isotopes awaiting reprocessing at the adjacent facility. The reactor itself would be good for another five hundred years after the rebuilding, but Tharkad Power & Heat had been hit with heavy fines and the rebuilding would redress what had been characterised as a ‘clear and reckless disregard for the wellbeing of neighbouring residential areas’.

Resistance to the project had died a quiet death and Peter Steiner-Davion had the feather in his cap of another foresightful step. Not to mention that the project was providing hundreds of jobs in Tharkad City both working on the reactor and on the secondary reactors that were carrying the strain during the refurbishment and would eventually provide a dedicated back-up for the metropolitan power network.

“Someone has to be willing to at least question his decisions,” Lisa responded with forced dignity. “Some of his decisions have been better than I realised, but he is only human. It is our duty to provide some restraint, and when it comes to decisions such as stripping the Marik border the way he has, it’s wise to offer him counsel.”

That wasn’t an entirely unreasonable position, Sabine forced herself to admit. While the Tamarind Alliance and the Silver Hawks Coalition were in no position to launch invasions, Peter had followed Victor’s reorganisation of the Bolan Province’s command structure by rotating most of the experienced ‘Mech regiments away. The border was hardly bare, but the Bolan Jaegers were inexperienced and most of the immediate support available to them came from cadet cadres and other units that hadn’t seen action lately. The assignment of veteran mercenary units would help, but if Photon Brett-Marik or Isis Marik for some insane reason thought that they could take worlds then it would take a while to bring serious reinforcements in.

“So long as you’re expressing loyal opposition, then I have nothing but praise for your politics, mother.” She paused. “And I’d even agree that having some more troops there wouldn’t be a bad idea. But can you tell me with a straight face that Robert Kelswa-Steiner’s opposition is borne out of loyalty to the Commonwealth?”

“I will grant you, he wants the Archon’s throne.” Lisa’s face expressed distaste for the Duke in question. “However, he is concerned with ensuring that he also wants a strong and healthy Commonwealth for him to rule, if that should come to pass.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Will he be severing ties to Free Skye then?”

Lisa ground her teeth but didn’t attempt to lie. “Unfortunately, I think that in that case he’d argue that he hopes to restrain them. How much of that is… unenlightened self-interest, I couldn’t definitively say.”

“If the Archon isn’t planning on another war,” interjected Sarah, perhaps to take the pressure off her ally in the conversation. “Why is he concentrating so many forces towards the Clans? I don’t know the numbers but I’ve heard numbers suggesting that he has anything up to a third of the entire AFFC stationed there.”

Sabine couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s hardly that high.” Although it was probably upwards of a quarter of their regular BattleMech forces. “Even if he doesn’t intend on a war, that doesn’t mean that there won’t be one. The Truce of Tukkayid expires in a few months and we could see another attack on a similar scale to the Jade Falcon incursions.”

“I thought the entire point of Victor’s Operation Serpent was to end that threat.”

“My understanding is that Clan Wolf won their part of the Great Refusal and don’t count themselves as bound by it.” Sabine spread her hands. “It may come to nothing, in which case I think we’ll see forces moving back to the other borders before the end of the year. A good test of our logistics if nothing more.” She paused before adding: “If one of the Clans does try anything though, I believe that Peter intends to make an object lesson of them.”

She stood, brushing off her skirt. “And if that does happen, it could be a few years before I can spend time with Elissa. So if you’ll excuse me…?”

Lisa also rose to her feet. “I’ll fetch my coat and join you.”

“Thank you, mother.” Sabine looked at Sarah, questioningly.

“I have my grandchildren most of the time,” the woman said flatly. “Enjoy your time with Elissa, Sabine. I pray that you are not taken from her - or the reverse - on a permanent basis.”

As do I. Sabine felt a shiver down her spine. An old instinct, atavistic. War was coming, she thought. Peter had predicted it, or perhaps felt it as she did. The Steiners had always had a touch of the uncanny to them… diagnosable as a depression-related medical condition, according to modern science. But there were always those who felt that there was more to it.

It probably doesn’t help that we women of the house huddle together like a coven of witches, Sabine thought. Usually she brushed such ideas aside as superstition, but today… today that was harder than usual.