Topic: State of the Union (Read 53623 times)

drakensis · « **Reply #15 on:** May 16, 2019, 01:28:16 AM »

Part Six - Federated Suns

Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep
Everybody's worried about me
In too deep
Say I'm in too deep (in too deep)

Chapter 33
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
22 July 3063

The screen of the meeting room lit exactly up on schedule and Peter felt tension leak out of him. Whatever happened, this was it.

Hundreds of light years away, another meeting room was set up with a table lined up exactly with that Peter was sitting at. A double-chain of Class A HPG stations constructed at Katrina's request (and enormous cost to the budgets of both the Lyran Alliance and Federated Commonwealth) sent constant signals each way, presenting the illusion of a single room containing the leaders of both halves of the realm.

He had some recollection that the Star League had managed this for the heads of all six member-states, but that had been for emergencies only. Katrina had made it routine.

While there was ample room at each 'half' of the table, Peter had chosen to be attended only by Bishop Sortek, Jackson Davion and by Catherine. On her end, Nondi Steiner sat alone.

His great-aunt looked older than he remembered, the lines on her face only heightening the resemblance to Peter's last recollections of his grandmother. Her Steiner-grey eyes moved smoothly across them and her lips tightened as she saw Jackson unbound and in full uniform.

"Aunt Nondi."

"Peter." Her voice was level, giving nothing away.

After a pause to let her make any overture, Peter realised she wasn't going to venture anything and he'd have to make the first move. It wasn't surprising, just disappointing. "You'll remember Field Marshal Davion, of course, and perhaps you're familiar with Field Marshal Bishop Sortek."

"By reputation only," she said. "Not Ardan Sortek?"

"My cousin lies in state," Bishop told her.

Peter felt a rush of fury as Nondi's face betrayed a sliver of satisfaction before she restored a mask of dispassion. "My condolences to his family," the old general said coldly. She looked at Catherine for a second time and then away, dismissively.

"And I believe it has been many years since you met my sister Catherine." Peter tried not to let his anger cloud his words.

To his pleasure, Nondi took the bait. "That is not your sister, boy." Her tone was a whip-crack. "Do you think I don't know my niece?"

"Blood tests say otherwise," Peter told her with great satisfaction. "Tests done here, and on Addicks and on Zaniah III confirm Catherine as my sister - and a direct matrilineal match to your uncle Hermann."

"He's telling the truth, Nondi." Jackson spoke quietly but with conviction. "There are very few close Davion relatives - but we were able to confirm distant kinship to myself and to Tabitha Steiner. She's dead too, I'm sorry to say."

Nondi's voice was contemptuous. "And this was enough to turn your coat?"

"We were also able to confirm closer kinship through their paternal grandmother to House Campbell." Jackson let the accusation wash over him. "Without access to the Archon I cannot say whether she is a Steiner-Davion or not, but this Catherine assuredly is."

"She escaped you then."

Peter inclined his head. "FCS Lucien Davion jumped out of the system last night. I cannot confirm she was aboard, but she fled the palace before we took the city so it seems a safe assumption." He paused. "She left thousands of soldiers to die as a diversion. I don't believe grandmother would have approved."

"You never knew your grandmother, boy." Nondi shook her head sharply in denial.

"From her example, nor did your Archon - whether she's my sister or not." He gripped the edge of the table with both hands. "Personally I hope she isn't, because we have the evidence now."

"What evidence?"

"Payment," Bishop Sortek answered. "To the same assassin that murdered Melissa Steiner-Davion."

Nondi shook her head. "I've seen that evidence and there's nothing to say Katrina was the Steiner who paid for the kill. Besides, Victor is the one who profited - his mother's death gave him his throne."

His mother had offered to stand down in Victor's favour, but that came from Morgan Kell and Peter knew only too well that Nondi would deny on instinct anything that came from the mercenary. "The accounts used could have been accessed by Victor or Katrina for that... payment, yes. But by 3061 Katrina had sole control of them. And she paid for another assassination in the same way. Omiko Kurita's, to be specific. He tried for her on Mogyorod last year."

"Killing a Kurita is hardly a sin," his great-aunt said. "Assuming, of course, that you didn't fabricate this evidence of yours."

"Are you being deliberately obtuse?" Peter asked her in disbelief. "She had your niece - my mother! - killed. All so she could move one step closer to usurping the throne."

"I have only your word for that, and removing an incompetent ruler is some my sister did - did you forget that?"

Catherine leant forwards. "And that is why Katrina must be removed. She is worse than Alessandro Steiner. Did he ever disband the Estates-General? Or cause civil war?"

"Let that be on Victor's head."

"The fighting was well underway before Victor declared himself," Peter told her. "You can't blame him for that. It's Katrina - and you - who've made this bed. For god's sake, Aunt Nondi! She sold Count Fisk a pardon for his son's manslaughter! And for some bauble! Try to tell me that that was the action of a just ruler."

"I can see that this conversation is going nowhere." Nondi made a sharp gesture and the end of the room was replaced by a ComStar holding signal.

Peter stared at it and then reached out and turned off their own cameras, ending their own signal. "Well that did nothing."

"We had to try." Jackson shook his head. "Marshal Steiner has always had strong opinions and I fear she's grown more... set in her ways."

"And we have the recording," pointed out Catherine. "Let the media have it."

The three men turned and stared at her.

"That doesn't seem wise," Bishop said after a moment. "A private conversation."

"It was a negotiation, not a conversation." The corner of her lips curled up. "I don't recall any non-disclosure agreement. You know that Katrina's staff made heavy use of propaganda. Why not counter it with the truth."

Jackson hesitated and then nodded. "It cuts the wrong way to me too," he admitted. "But you're right. This isn't military data that needs to be secured. Not everyone is as rigid as Marshal Steiner. And everyone that believes it is one less person that has to be fought."

"If Katrina is headed for Tharkad, it'll take her months," added Catherine. "For that duration, her cause is in the hands of Nondi, who is a fine general but hardly as politically astute. It's an opening we should exploit. Let the public have the full and unvarnished truth for a change."

There was a chime from the comm unit buried in the table as Peter considered the idea. He tapped it to accept the call. "This is Prince Peter."

"Sir, you have a live call via the HPG."

Peter blinked. "Is it from Tharkad?" Had someone there put a gun to Nondi's head?

"No sir. It's the Precentor-Martial of ComStar."

He rubbed his jaw. "Focht, Dow or my brother?" Anastasius Focht was still the man most associated with the title and Victor was supposedly merely on leave from the role, although how that would turn out was anyone's guess. Peter knew little about the acting-Precentor Martial except his name.

"Precentor Martial Gavin Dow, sir."

Peter took a deep breath. "Put him through."

The face that appeared on the screen was only slightly more familiar than the name. It was also spread across the entire wall until someone adjusted the display and Dow's features shrank to a more reasonable size.

"Your highness." The Precentor dipped his head respectfully. "Thank you for making time for me so immediately."

While the content of the call to Nondi was hopefully still encrypted, it would have taken very little, Peter supposed, for Dow to have been made aware of when the call began and to be ready when it ended and when Peter would be both free and readily accessible by this means. One of the more subtle powers bequeathed by Jerome Blake to his organisation had been good call scheduling.

"It seems convenient for both of us," Peter answered drily. "And I suppose we want to discuss the same matter."

Dow's expression shifted smoothly to regretfulness. "If by that you mean the 299th Division then it seems that we do."

"Unless you're about to declare an interdiction, I assume that they were not acting on your orders when they joined the Archon's forces here?"

"ComStar's position remains one of neutrality." Dow wasn't even sweating. "My information is that Demi-Precentor Fedt chose to ignore that in favour of a general instruction given to the ComGuards that they should defend the worlds on which they are stationed."

"There would seem to be an obvious conflict between those two orders," noted Bishop.

"Our neutrality on the current... disagreements within the Federated Commonwealth and Lyran Alliance comes from the office of the Primus, and thus takes precedence over instructions from a mere Acting-Precentor Martial." Dow's brows lowered. "I hope that I may ensure that the 299th's personnel are educated on the distinction, but they are currently in your custody, not my own."

"And you want them back."

"The more junior personnel are guilty, I would think, of following their appointed officers. My understanding is that you are extended such a policy to soldiers of the Federated Commonwealth?"

Peter acknowledged the point with a nod and riposted: "Those not found to be guilty of war crimes."

Dow leant back slightly. "And do you suspect ComGuards are guilty of such?"

"Some of them, support staff for example, have had no opportunity to do so. Reports from the frontlines suggest that combat elements showed no quarter to the disarmed and defenseless," Bishop growled.

"The 299th saw service on Tukkayid against Clan Smoke Jaguar," Dow reminded them. "They have not, it seems, had a chance to adjust to fighting less fanatical opposition. I appreciate that such conduct must lead to disciplinary action."

And you want to be the one dishing it out, Peter thought.

Before he could speak, Catherine leant forwards. "What status do the 299th hold at this time, Precentor Martial? Relative, for example, to the 244th Division that was declared rogue earlier this year when they joined Prince Victor's cause."

Dow paused. "The situation is... parallel."

"Rogues... effectively pirates in your eyes?"

"The 244th were given a chance to return to their posts before that judgement was made." And all of three soldiers had done so, leaving Victor reinforced by the equivalent of two combined arms regiments.

Peter gave his sister a nod. "It seems reasonable that members of the Division not suspected of war crimes can be remanded into ComStar custody. Along with those found innocent, of course. What you do then is up to you, although I would suggest stationing them... elsewhere."

"That suggestion seems wise," Dow allowed. "With their equipment?"

"Battlefield salvage and surrendered equipment are the prizes of the victors." Jackson Davion's focus seemed to be a little above and behind Dow's face. "That is the custom of warfare since time immemorial."

That didn't include the HPG complex itself or the ComGuards base there, but field facilities and combat equipment found outside it was fair game. And it would be needed because clearly the war wasn't about to end and Peter would have to both garrison New Avalon and establish a new task force to take the conflict to the next battlefield.

Team Banzai had formally re-established themselves and informally agreed to help with the former. Detailed contract negotiations for that would commence tomorrow. The 1st NAIS Cadet Cadre was going to have to be stripped though, with the young soldiers - now seasoned - joining the Davion Guards and their teachers going back to help rebuild the battered Academy.

"If I may negotiate," Dow began.

"Regarding the war crimes," Peter told him. "They will be investigated and tried under the same terms as AFFC soldiers. ComStar representation is certainly acceptable and on a case-by-case basis, we may remand individuals to your own military courts."

The Precentor Martial saw his petition for equipment was dismissed and subsided. "I would prefer that, wherever possible. I will arrange for Precentor New Avalon to appoint representatives in the meantime."

Peter nodded. "I will be glad to hear from him. Perhaps you could clarify your instructions to your forces elsewhere."

The call broke off with an agreement on that point at least and Peter rubbed his jaw. "He's more influential than a temporary replacement for Victor should be. The Precentor Martial is usually junior to the First Circuit but he was talking about 'arranging' the Precentor New Avalon's decisions."

"A rising man," Cat agreed. "Primus Mori grows no younger."

"No Primus has ever come from the ComGuards," Jackson said with some surprise.

"They've never been as important as they are now," she pointed out. "Dow could use it as a springboard to a First Circuit seat when Victor returns. Assuming they want him back. His departure leaves him vulnerable just as fighting the Clans left a vacancy here."

Peter winced. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, thrice a pattern... and Victor had chosen to chase a fight on the Jade Falcon border back when their mother died, missing her funeral.

For that matter, what happens to the Federated Commonwealth and Lyran Alliance if he does try to go back to ComStar?

Chapter 34
Foxâ€™s Den, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
30 July 3063

With its security withdrawn for the last ditch defense of Castle Davion's gates, the Fox's Den had fallen into the hands of the Davion Heavy Guards almost intact. There had been an abortive attempt at purging the computers but several of the remaining officers had been sympathisers feeding information to Bishop Sortek and they'd delayed that long enough for Jon Davion's infantry to arrive.

"What's he doing here?" demanded Stephan Cooper as he entered the central briefing room. He pointed one finger at Jackson Davion.

"Making himself useful," Peter assured him. "If nothing else, he's saved us time lives bringing the Crucis March Militias to surrender."

Cooper shook his head and took a seat without waiting for permission. "Seeing him next to your sister there makes it look as if not much has changed," he grumbled.

"Appearances can be deceiving." Peter looked at the screens dominating one wall of the command centre, where data was constantly streaming in reflection of the latest reports, and shook his head. It would take time to get used to interpreting it. "Jon, can you give me a high-level overview of where we stand?"

"In terms of the Federated Commonwealth?" the newly promoted Marshal asked. On Peter's nod he manipulated his controls to bring up a display of the broad wedge of space occupied by House Davion's realm, golden worlds framed by the red of the Draconis Combine and the green of the Capellan Confederation.

"There's no immediate concern about Katrina's Loyalists making an attempt to retake New Avalon," Jon confirmed. â€œWhen Katrina had Jackson reinforce New Avalon he called in effectively every mobile unit she could rely on from the Crucis March. The other March Militias lack the transport and to some degree the inclination to try anything - Kestrel has declared for us and once your conversation with Nondi reaches them it's likely the rest will do the same."

"Fair weather allies," Cooper grumbled.

"But allies nonetheless." Lucy Davion folded her hands. "Most of them aren't in position to do anything immediately useful but they can probably scrape together enough transport to deal with ongoing skirmishes across the outer regions of the Crucis March."

Bishop nodded. "We don't want to have to spread out our main units in penny-packet out to deal with that, so there's a start."

"Have you heard from the March Lords?" Catherine looked more rested than she had since... since they parted at Delavan, Peter thought. Hopefully that would help with her recovery but he still had to get some mental health professionals vetted to speak with her.

"Nothing so far."

She frowned. "Duke Hasek was officially neutral but opposed to Katrina because she was circumventing his authority. Duke Sandoval was the same but supporting her because she backed his invasion of the Combine."

"Destroying the Third Robinson Rangers won't help us with that," Peter mused.

"Can we afford to continue supporting his operations?" Cooper looked around the room. "I'd rather have his regiments fighting for us, but the optics on that..."

"It'd do you no favours politically to call him back," Jackson agreed. "On the other hand, taking Addicks already cut into what he had available so that bridge may have been burned already."

"Since Katrina no longer has anything to offer him, it's unlikely Duke Sandoval will continue to offer her tacit support," advised Jon. "We believe most of his regiments can be considered neutral to the civil war but will continue to support the fighting in the Combine. There are a few exceptions, mostly along the Outworlds region. As of the last report, Tanced Sandoval and your sister Yvonne are headed for Woodbine to regroup there after..."

"After Mayetta," Peter said and sighed. That had been a debacle - Tancred had won over a combat command of the Crucis Lancers and been pledged the support of the Mayetta Draconis March Militia only for two other DMM RCTs to hit Mayetta before he even arrived. General Yalo's incompetence had sealed the disaster and Tancred had actually had to abandon the man, extricating what forces he could. That 'betrayal' and Yalos' unsanctioned execution of imprisoned loyalist officers had done nothing for Tancred's support within his fatherâ€™s March.

"Yes. The Capellan March looks more promising," Jon offered. "Loyalist forces on Kathil and Sirdar have requested ceasefires, and the Fifth FedCom RCT on Chesterton has declared for us. Based on some intercepted back-office communications, it seems that the Donegal Guards RCTs on Kathil and Sirdar are looking to join their sister RCT on Kentares and return to Lyran space. Losing them would at a minimum leave the loyalist positions in the Capellan March untenable."

"How about Algol?" asked Peter, looking at the third blazing star representing major clashes ongoing in the Capellan March.

"Algol... we don't know for sure," Jon admitted reluctantly. "The Fifth Crucis Lancers are still under pressure from the Republican Guards and the Fifteenth Deneb Light Cavalry. That could change, of course, once Marshal Lipstein learns of the wider situation."

"Or they may feel that they have nothing left to lose." Bishop shook his head. "The Lancers aren't alone, are they?"

"They had two regiments of the Vegan Rangers with them. Not much more than one regiment now, due to losses." It was Catherine speaking rather than Jon. "General Stancel is bringing his Alpha Regiment from New Aragon but that'll give no more than parity of forces against the opposition."

Cooper gave Catherine a startled look and then turned back to Jon. "Is that right?"

The armor officer consulted his notes and then nodded. "Yes, that's exactly right."

"Not a good situation if they keep fighting then." Cooper gave Catherine a respectful nod. "Would we be better withdrawing our forces until we can hit Algol with significant numbers? The Crushers can reconstitute on our dropships and -"

Peter was about to interrupt but a ping from the communications screen did so for him. A high priority message. "What are those routing codes?"

"Seventh Crucis Lancers are the source - but that's a Field Marshal's originator code and their commander is a Marshal," Jon said.

Bishop nodded. "They're stationed on Winter, which is very close to Newtown Square, so there's a good chance this is from Prince Victor." He broke off and smiled self-consciously. "Of course, we could just watch it and find out."

"By all means."

Peter's approval was enough for someone to open the holo-file.

Victor Steiner-Davion's head and shoulders popped into view above the table. He was wearing dress uniform save for the golden half-breastplate, and a sling secured his arm - probably to stop him joggling the collarbone broken on Newtown Square. His line of sight was aimed close to, but not squarely, at Peter's seat and the redhead shuffled slightly to more directly face his brother.

"To my brother, my comrades in arms and to Field Marshal Sortek, my deepest thanks and congratulations. While a full report hasn't reached me at the time of sending this message, it's clear that the liberation of New Avalon has been accomplished. The cost must assuredly be high, and I regret that, but I cannot regret the freedoms weâ€™re fighting to restore to our people."

He paused. "I have no intention of trying to direct your actions from the far side of the Inner Sphere. Instead I will trust you to continue as you have begun. At this time I am moving deeper into the Lyran Alliance, into Coventry Province and eventually - I hope - to Tharkad."

Peter rubbed his chin. That seemed possible now, or at least more possible than it had been. It depended how many units fought on as Nondi ordered the or if they would defect now that their Archon was on the run.

"Ardan, you remain the best choice to lead our forces, but I must also appoint a civil leader and we can't have a divided command. I hereby appoint my brother, Peter Steiner-Davion as Regent of the Federated Commonwealth. Peter, you have the authority to give Ardan orders but not to remove him as Marshal of Armies. I hope you'll consider his advice but you have both the final authority and the final responsibility. I think you've grown into both and I look forward to seeing that when we have the chance."

Victor's eyes flicked to one side and he nodded. "I'm sure there is more that I will wish to say once I have the full report but for now, let me repeat my deep gratitude."

The holo file cut out and silence filled the room. "He must have not heard that Field Marshal Sortek is dead," Lucy said and then looked embarrassed.

Peter nodded and then looked around the room. "If anyone has any hesitation in accepting me as Victor's Regent, please say so now. I'd rather hear it now in confidence."

Cooper glanced around as if expecting someone to speak and then shook his head. "I suppose you were right about coming here. But I hope you'll listen to advice from someone other than Ardan Sortek. I doubt he'll be offering much."

"Only an example," Peter told him. "While I'd not have presumed to remove him, under the circumstances I think I must replace him. Bishop, I feel you're the right man for the job."

The commander of the Davion Guards ran one hand through his thinning hair. "I can hardly refuse."

"You could but I'm glad that you aren't." Peter leant forwards and looked around the table. "Field Marshal Cooper, as far as I'm concerned that makes you the overall commander of the Davion Guards, and most importantly, the commander of New Avalon's Garrison. I appreciate your wish to take the Crushers out onto the frontlines, but you and they are needed here first."

Cooper grunted. "I don't like it, but you're right. We can't leave Algol alone though. Someone has to go back there."

"Agreed." He looked over at Lucy Davion. "General, I appreciate it's something of a sidestep, but I'd like you to take over the Fifth Royal Guards. Officially, I'll remain the commanding officer but in practise they need someone more experienced at the helm."

"Sir, I accept." She saluted. "Although you realise I'm not a Mechwarrior, and your Guards have nothing but Mechs."

"That's the first thing that needs to change." He folded his arms and stared defiantly at the assembled officers. "I will be taking them to Algol and I will deal with Katrina's forces there. Not just because it's the nearest sound of guns but because once we settle the Marches the focus of defeating Katrina shifts to Lyran space and Algol is as good a place as any to assemble a task force to cross the Terran corridor."

"Regency rather assumes that you'll remain here on New Avalon."

Peter bared his teeth. "My uncle Ian and many other First Princes governed from the frontlines. Perhaps not as well as they might have from here but we will never know. Right now, our people have had too much of a ruler sitting here in safety while others do their dirty work."

"And who'll govern in your absence?" asked Bishop drily. "Someone has to."

Peter turned to look at Catherine. "Congratulations, you're now my Vice-Regent."

She blinked and even looked behind herself to see if she was somehow mistaking who he was looking at. "Me?"

Cooper groaned and covered his eyes. "You can't be serious."

"I'm not leaving immediately." Peter rubbed his jaw. "Hopefully, Yvonne will be here before I go and I'll arrange other advisors."

"Then why not give them the job," Catherine asked weakly. "I'm not... not always here, Peter."

"I know." He looked her over again. "But after the last few months I've decided you have two qualities to a greater extent than anyone else I can think of. Even," he gestured around the table, "In this select company."

"Which would be?" asked Jackson Davion curiously.

Peter raised one finger. "More insight into this war than anyone else." And then another finger. "And my absolute trust."

drakensis · « **Reply #16 on:** May 16, 2019, 01:29:39 AM »

Chapter 35
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
30 August 3063

Yvonne hadn't seen Peter for almost eight years now - not since his graduation. She'd thought then that she might be welcoming him back to New Avalon but now she was the one disembarking from a dropship while he waited in the arrival lounge, shielded from both the weather and the heat of the dropship's thrusters.

"He looks well," Tancred Sandoval said in a neutral tone as he escorted her down the extending boarding passage from the dropship. Beneath them the landing pad was still too warm for vehicles but this mechanism meant no waiting.

He looks even more like father, Yvonne thought. He'd always had the same broad, powerful frame and the colouring, but now Peter was developing lines on his face. Just age... or the weight of responsibility?

"Peter," she said hesitantly as they reached the end of the passage and entered the lounge. "It's been... a long time."

"We've both grown," her brother agreed and extended both arms to take her by the forearms. For a moment they looked each other over and then he pulled her into an awkward hug, Tancred stepping back to give them space.

When the embrace was done, Yvonne glanced around and saw that the three of them were alone. "You didn't bring your Catherine?"

"'My' Catherine?" Peter made a face. "I'm not sure how to take that. I don't own her."

"But you found her. Brought her here." She paused. "Claim she's our sister."

"Blood tests don't lie."

"I know our sister. Perhaps better than you. Whether she called herself Katherine or Katrina I never saw a change in her behaviour. I don't know who this Catherine is."

Peter snorted. "I left to find out who I was and after six years I was still getting to grips with it. I've had less than a year to figure out Catherine and sometimes I think she knows less about herself than I do." He shrugged. "But we can talk about her later. How are you. And you, Tancred." He gestured with his arm, subtly re-inviting the heir to the Draconis March back into the conversation.

"It's been a long trip," Yvonne told him.

"And a wrench to leave my troops behind," added Tancred. His brigade's jumpships had been commandeered to move other units and while he could have refused, making an enemy of Peter probably wasn't worth that. Probably.

"I haven't made any hard decisions on their next orders." Peter gave them what was probably intended to be a reassuring smile. "I have to talk to you first, after all."

"I'm glad that that's a consideration."

At Tancred's tone, Yvonne took his arm again as a reassurance. He was older than Peter, more experienced... but his one campaign so far in this war had been a humiliating defeat while Peter had gone for the throat and against similar odds had won a glorious victory.

Peter's eyes betrayed that he saw Tancred's irritation, but rather than responding directly he gestured towards the door. "Why don't we talk in the car?" For safety reasons the palace drop port was far enough from the rest of the palace that it would have been an inconvenient walk. An armoured limousine was parked waiting and Yvonne asked about the damage to NAIS as they walked to it.

"Two days of fighting and two projected years of repairs," Peter told her wearily. "Some classes will resume immediately, others in temporary accommodations... and then there's the research. Fortunately faculty casualties were pretty low - they had enough warning to take sides or take cover."

"How many sided with Katherine?"

He gave her a thoughtful look. "Not so many. Except for those at the College of Military Science, I'm not going to do anything but have them on another MIIO watchlist. Although as NAIS professors they're all watched anyway."

"And those who do teach at the CMS?" asked Tancred.

"I don't want them teaching our future soldiers. Field service or administrative positions elsewhere... at least for a year or two. We have enough people up for medically recommended light duty that we can replace them."

The heir to the duchy of Robinson held the door for Yvonne. "There are other qualifications for being able to teach besides not yet being fit to fight."

"I can be selective." Peter let him enter and then followed them, sitting with his back to the driver and facing the two of them. "But loyalty matters, and I want the next generation of our officers to be trained by men and women who have bled for us."

The door closed and as they pulled away, Peter turned to Tancred. "I see a few possible options for your command, Tancred. You may see others that I don't and I'd be glad to hear them. I'm sure - because I've asked him - that Bishop Sortek will also listen. But the two of us will have the final decision."

"What options do you have in mind?" asked Tancred with a stony face.

"General Zardetto would probably like to bring the Third Crucis Lancers back up to strength with the troops he loaned to you, and we could do with a cadre to rebuild the Mayetta DMM around." Peter smiled toothily. "However, that would mean disbanding your command, which seems a little wasteful."

"I'm glad you see it that way, Peter." Yvonne raised her chin a little. "I know that Mayetta was a defeat but the men who fought for us deserve better than shame."

"General Yalos has paid for his failures when he was executed for his crimes."

"You say execution, others would say murder."

"If he had simply failed, maybe. But he faced a properly constituted court martial for the murder of Marshal DeGreer and many of her staff. A war crime committed on our behalf can't be ignored if I'm to prosecute those committed against us."

"You may find it hard to keep your hands clean," warned Tancred, but his expression had lightened.

Peter leant back and rubbed his chin as he thought. "I can only afford mercy if I am strong enough to impose justice. Or as much as I can."

"Good luck with that."

"I may need it." He smiled faintly. "We were talking about options. I pulled your jumpships to speed the 1st Ceti Hussars and the 3rd Lyran Regulars towards Algol. There's an ongoing situation there. It's not impossible that your brigade could catch up, but the logistics would be difficult and since I'll command there, sending another trusted commander might be wasteful, to use the word a second time."

"Flattery."

"Simple fact. I could also send you onwards to Woodbine, but honestly I'm not concerned greatly for the loyalty of those worlds. I'm more worried about worlds closer to New Avalon. Not everyone has accepted the change of authority there and I can't afford to weaken the garrison too much putting out those grass fires."

"I'm sorry, you said you're taking command on Algol?" asked Yvonne. "That's in the Capellan March. Why are you going there rather than staying here on New Avalon?"

"Because that's what Katrina would have done. Delegated. Given license to local officers to act while she kept her hands clean. The more George Hasek has to do to resolve this mess we've made, the less he will look to New Avalon for leadership. By stepping in and resolving this - in the favour of his authority - I both endorse him and tie him more closely to us."

"The Haseks have always supported us," she told him and felt foolish immediately. George's father Morgan had been a strong and loyal supporter to their father and to Victor until his death. But his father had been very different."

Peter was kind enough not to call her on the mistake. "Mostly, yes. But they're also loyal to the people they rule. Neglecting them would be a mistake, and one I don't feel I can afford to make."

Tancred leant forwards. "Marlette, New Avalon and Remagen Combat Regions are all short of their usual March Militias. You want me to act as a fire brigade."

"A little more than that. I know it'll take time before we can move them but it'll be easier to ship them towards New Avalon than towards Algol. In the meantime you're authorised to expand your forces by recruiting from militia, conventional forces... whatever you can dig up."

The older man hesitated. "Up to what strength?"

"Your father created the First Federated Commonwealth RCT, and oversaw the creation of four more before he took on the Draconis March. If you're agreeable, I'd entrust you with forming the Fourteenth Federated Commonwealth RCT."

Tancred tilted his head to one side. "Fourteenth?"

There had been twelve Regimental Combat Teams in the Federated Commonwealth Corps at their height, Yvonne recalled, before the Clan Invasion. The Second had been destroyed in 3057, five others had defected to Katherine and become her Alliance Guards, two of them later disbanded to form other units.

"Thirteen isn't a lucky number," Peter said simply.

"You smashed the Sixth on Addicks and the Third were destroyed on New Aragon. If the Eighth surrender -"

"They have."

Tancred nodded. "Some would suggest disbanding the Corps entirely."

"They may say that if they wish. But I believe they still have value." Peter eyed him. "Given proper leadership, that is."

"Marshal Venger has led them for a quarter of a century."

Peter nodded. "That's a long time. They need fresh blood at the top and none of the RCT commanders seem ready for it. That would be a sad end to what our fathers worked towards. I believe you can be an alternative to that."

He turned to Yvonne and grinned suddenly. "Of course, you'd also have to put up with Lord Sandoval spending a lot of time on or around New Avalon. Are you bored of him yet, Yvonne?"

"Not at all." Then she glared at him. "And whether or not I ever am, it's our business, not yours, Peter."

Her brother held up his hands in token of surrender. "Catherine will be my vice-regent while I'm away. I hope you'll support her."

"I'll do my best," she agreed, hoping she wasn't making another dreadful mistake.

Chapter 36
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
5 September 3063

Peter was gone and Tancred was to have a ringside seat as Catherine Steiner-Davion had the first major challenge of her vice-regency. He'd arrived at the appointed meeting room and found that it was, as he'd anticipated, one of those looking out over the Royal Court and Peace Park towards NAIS.

At other times such a view would have been a statement of the power of the Federated Commonwealth, but work crews were everywhere and the scars of battle were still very visible.

Roger Sato, the ambassador of the Draconis Combine, was ushered into the room at the precise hour appointed for the meeting. He was of Theodore Kurita's generation, perhaps a few years younger than the Coordinator and rather than traditional japanese clothes or a military uniform he wore a black business suit of fashionable cut. In the subtle codes of Combine deportment this indicate his primary bureaucratic affiliation was with the Bureau of Development and Treaty Brothers, a subdivision of what (stripped of the usual excessive verbiage) amounted to the Combine's Ministry of the Treasury.

Punctiliously, Sato bowed to a precisely appropriate degree once the doors had closed behind him. "Lady Steiner-Davion. Lord Sandoval. Lord DuVall."

Catherine hadn't risen from her seat at the table. She made a fractional gesture to beckon Sato to take his own seat and he obeyed, straightening his double-breasted jacket with its silver buttons before withdrawing a pair of reading glasses from a pocket.

"Mr Sato." Horatio DuVall was Count of Dundee, a relatively minor title in the peerage, but DuValls had been part of the upper crust of New Avalon and the Federated Suns for even longer than the Sandovals. It was the alliance between Adam Davion and Nathan DuVall that had ended the First Families War in 2255 and both of their sons had served as New Avalonâ€™s Prime Minister before the Davions finally cemented their dominance. The modern head of the family wielded more influence than direct power, heading the High Council, but that influence was very real. "Your lord's realm and my own lord's appear to be in a state of war."

"An unfortunate appearance, and entirely misleading." Sato did not look aside from where Catherine sat between DuVall and Tancred. "Both realms are part of the Star League, and my own lord serves as a First Lord. For us to be at war would be unthinkable."

"Assaults upon Markab, on Donevall II, on Robinson itself... these occasions suggest otherwise."

The Combine ambassador smiled thinly. "Should I take it that the presence of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns upon Proserpina, Al Na'ir, Markab and An Ting to be declarations of war against the Dragon?"

Tancred glanced aside at Catherine, who did not seem inclined to respond. "Those operations did not have the approval of Prince Victor."

Sato nodded. "And nor were the earlier attacks the will of the Coordinator."

"And yet they have all taken place." When Catherine spoke at last she did so quietly.

"A most unfortunate happenstance."

"The previous government of the Federated Commonwealth denounced both attacks, but did not in fact restrain Duke Sandoval." DuVall produced three documents and slid them across the table. "Lady Steiner-Davion's orders to the Duke, his response and the orders issued to his forces."

Tancred felt his face tighten. He hadn't heard about this.

Sato's expression didn't shift as he read the documents. "A defensive position is admirable, one would hope that it presages a withdrawal of those forces occupying Combine worlds."

"The First Lord is of course concerned by the fighting against the Clans," Catherine murmured. "It is regrettable that his control over other borders has been less rigorous. Naturally, as his allies, we offer our assistance."

That veiled insult wasn't missed by Sato and Tancred saw the man's self-control waver, but only for an instant. "How very generous. May ask what form this assistance will take?"

"Now that the First Lord can be assured that none of the worlds we have placed forces upon are being used to base these... rebellious elements," declared Catherine, "I am sure he will be able to focus in upon them." She smiled coldly. "And once we have assurance that his control is once again firm... well, matters may then be brought to a satisfactory conclusion."

"Your soldier's presence may be provocative," the ambassador warned.

DuVall smiled warmly. Deceptively so. "Much has been made of the abject submission and total obedience of the Combine's people to their Coordinator. Since we have assurance that Theodore Kurita means no threat to our people, we will hold any attacks upon him to be rebellious in nature - a sign his authority has not yet been fully restored."

"And an absence of such activity..." Catherine tilted her head to one side a fraction. "That, of course, would presage a return to... normality. Such as it is."

Sato's mask of urbanity had been reformed and he bowed his head to the same degree as before. "I shall communicate your desire for a peaceful resolution of this matter to the First Lord. I am sure that he will hasten to ensure peacekeepers are placed along our border. Perhaps the SLDF will be of assistance."

"We shall have to see if such forces are available."

Tancred contemplated that awful possibility for a moment and then realised that without either the Federated Commonwealth or Lyran Alliance providing forces, Theodore would have to look to the Capellans - busy trying to pacify the reconquered St Ives and Sarna worlds - or Free Worlds League. ComStar and the Free Rasalhague Republic would hardly involve themselves in this matter, the former because they had just been burned by troops taking sides in the Civil War and the latter because they, like the Combine, had a border with the Clans to tend to.

The Free Worlds League was quite a distance away. By the time troops reached the Combine's worlds, the entire situation would likely have changed. In short, the threat was empty.

"Please be sure to let me know the Coordinator's thoughts on the matter," Catherine said in dismissal.

All of them stood politely as Sato left the room and then Catherine sank back into her chair with relief. "God, what if I'd lost it there?"

"That could have been unfortunate. But you handled it smoothly," DuVall assured him. He looked past her to Tancred less sympathetically. "Bringing up Prince Victor was ill-done, Lord Sandoval. The appearance of further division within the royal family is concerning."

Catherine ran her fingers through her hair. "It's alright, Count DuVall. Lord Sandoval's frankness is welcome given some of the flatters who have already returned to court. And his reminder that Victor looks favorably upon House Kurita allowed me to be harsher than I might otherwise have been, since they will assume Victor might rein me in."

"How very adroit of you." Tancred pushed his chair back. "It seems you have some skills on par with your counterpart."

He saw Catherine flinch. "That frankness is... less welcome. But not less valuable I suppose."

Chapter 37
Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
13 September 3063

As a close cousin of the ruling dynasty, George Hasek would have been granted apartments in Castle Davion itself or sole occupancy of one of the many subsidiary palaces within the Royal Court without question. Instead, he'd chosen to stay in the Hasek 'townhouse', a sizeable mansion on the northern outskirts of Avalon City - twelve minutes by aircar from the capital offices of the Ministry of the Capellan March.

Jon could be so exact because he'd flown over the offices on the way out to meet the Duke. At least it was more convenient than having to fly all the way to the Hasek estates down on the south coast of Albion.

The aircar didn't land on the usual pad out back, instead setting down on the driveway just inside the main gates and idling up the drive to bring Jon directly to the portico. Apparently the duke wanted to make a statement of some kind.

Whatever the statement was, it couldn't be too antagonist though, for George Hasek was waiting himself at the door and offered his hand immediately that Jon exited the vehicle. "Please come inside," he said as they shook hands. Jon was amused again that despite their distant kinship, the Duke of New Syrtis looked far more like Jon than he did the closer Steiner-Davions - both had dark hair and the cavalry moustaches fashionable among more traditional AFFS officers.

As they stepped through the door, Jon noted the familiar plaque on the floor noting that this was the exact spot where Colonel Jason Hasek had accepted the surrender of Terran Alliance colonial marines during the Outer Reaches Rebellion. Jon's ancestor Robert had been there, if history was to be believed, having deserted the marines to advise Hasek. If so, the plaque made no mention of that fact.

The two men had died together as well, of course. Ten years later at the start of a civil war that lasted for five years.

Eight hundred years separated those men from the current generations of both families. What would they make of the current state of affairs?

"Something to drink?" George asked once they had entered the library, a formal room with the books secured behind glass doors that had locks on them. It looked out on one of the inner gardens of the mansion, two stories high with a mezzanine level and plenty of seats. Jon had always had a sneaking dislike of libraries that locked the books away. He also didn't think much of having a drinks cabinet built into a bookcase but it wasn't his house and it had been a long morning.

"I wouldn't say no."

"Gin and tonic. More tonic than gin, is that right?"

Huh, he was well prepared. "If you don't mind."

â€œNot at all.â€ The duke poured the glasses himself, although John noted that he poured barely a sliver of gin into his own glass before filling the rest with tonic. Either he didn't like gin or he wanted to keep his own head clearer than Jon's. "What shall we toast to?"

"To a swift victory on Algol?"

"Hmm. Indeed." They both sipped and settled into chairs facing each other. George studied him across the gap. "Marshal, you met this Catherine Steiner-Davion on Galax, didn't you?"

"If you mean the Vice-Regent, then yes."

"Are you sure of that?"

Jon frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"There is a theory," George said thoughtfully. "I'm not convinced, but I can't rule it out, that the Catherine from Galax and before that on Addicks was a body-double. Once they reached New Avalon, the real Katherine 'vanishes' and re-emerges in her brother's forces, with the body-double departing."

He couldn't help but laugh. "That's ridiculous. Besides, there was a blood test."

George tipped his glass. "Against Peter, who hasn't been seen himself in several years? Or..."

"We were also able to check her against myself and later against a distant Steiner cousin here on New Avalon."

The duke nodded. "Alright. It'll never satisfy all the conspiracy theorists, but it's as certain as we can hope for. And it doesn't really matter."

"The... authenticity of the person on the throne doesn't matter?" Jon set his glass down. "I beg to differ."

"I care more for their allegiance." George Hasek studied what was left of his own glass. "I've known Victor's siblings since they were children - he himself less so. But neither Victor nor Katherine raised a finger against Sun-Tzu as he wrecked the Sarna March and conquered St Ives - a state we had a mutual defense pact with."

"Victor had been dethroned by the time of the St Ives war."

"He was also commander of the SLDF. He was content to use that to block Katherine from being First Lord but not to defend our allies and our citizens." The duke's voice lowered dangerously. "Indeed, both of them voted to elect Liao to the First Lordship for three years. My people have learned these last few years that we cannot look for support from New Avalon. I must decide if that has changed, or not."

Jon shook his head in disappointment, "Your father was Hanse Davion's most loyal supporter."

"I am not my father and the Fox's children are not him." George paused and when he resumed, his voice was more conciliatory. "Which need not make them unworthy."

"Peter has gone directly to defend Algol, part of your March."

The duke nodded. "The Fox would have trusted my father or I to manage that. But then, the so called Archon-Princess would have stirred the matter to undermine House Hasek, so we have progress of a sort."

"Is that how you see it?"

"I don't, from what I have heard, think it is how Peter saw it. Hanse's sons seem to take more after their uncle than their father, but there were worse First Princes than Ian Davion."

And better, Jon thought. Ian, like many Davions, had loved the battlefield more than the throne. He'd died in the rearguard of his regiment, during a retreat. Brave, but ultimately neglectful of his other responsibilities. "I take your point. What, may I ask, are you looking for from Catherine since she has remained here?"

"A year ago I would have wanted reinforcements and supplies for St Ives but with Candace Liao and her family in Sun-Tzu's hands, that would be an uphill struggle." George steepled his fingers. "And I cannot expect a Steiner-Davion to forego fighting for the realm the first part of their name comes from. But we must take a stronger stance against the Liaos."

"I'm sure James Sandoval also feels we should do the same about House Kurita."

"Of course." George Hasek leant back and his face slipped into shadow. "The Capellans and Draconians are our enemies. We may at times have mutual interests, but these are temporary at best. Katherine's actions showed her to be soft towards the former and Victor is openly an admirer of the latter. I don't require an immediate declaration of war, the current situation would make that unwise... but we must recognise their fundamental hostility and prepare accordingly."

"You want me to tell her that?" asked Jon quietly.

George nodded. "I would very much like a First Prince I can give my full support. Or an Archon-Prince if they can manage that somehow. If House Steiner-Davion can provide such a leader, so much the better. I don't share my grandfather's ambitions for the prince's throne - or desk - but my first loyalty is to my March, not to New Avalon and certainly not to Tharkad."

drakensis · « **Reply #17 on:** May 16, 2019, 01:31:08 AM »

Chapter 38
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
12 October 3063

The throne room had seen little damage during the liberation of the castle, Daniel had heard. That damage had been repaired only once more vital concerns were dealt with but there was now no trace of it as more than a thousand nobles and court officials formed loose ranks across the vast chamber.

There was no formal formation upheld in the assembly but so many of the men and women had military backgrounds that without prompting they tended to stand in lines facing towards the throne beneath the great stained glass window at the far end. Hundreds more looked down from seating on side-balconies, forming little clusters on the upholstered benches. Those of higher social or military rank were on the main floor and generally closer towards the front.

The vaulted ceiling was high enough to have housed BattleMechs, but Daniel could see no doors large enough to admit them so presumably the Lyran practise of flanking the throne with a pair would not be followed here. Rather than put himself forward he was standing near the rear of the chamber.

As a result, he was among the first to notice two exceptions entering the room. Yvonne Steiner-Davion was on Tancred Sandoval's arm and the pair declined to advance far from the door.

Only a moment later, the brass section of the royal orchestra announced from their own gallery the arrival of the Vice-Regent.

Catherine Steiner-Davion had made no habit of wearing formal gowns even in court. Instead she wore military-styled pants, bottle-green with a lyran blue seam, and a black blouse. The only ornamentation was a enamelled pendant displaying the Fist and Sunburst of the Federated Commonwealth, suspended on a gold chain.

Reaching the principal throne she bowed her head to it and then stepped aside to the slightly smaller throne to its left. Katrina, Daniel gathered, had used the central throne to indicate she considered herself monarch while Peter - and before him Yvonne - had occupied the right throne as Regents to an absent monarch.

Taking the least of the three thrones was a political message. Although today she did not sit at first.

Another crescendo from the horns admitted another lord. James Sandoval wore full uniform as he stepped onto the red carpet that marked the centre of the chamber and Daniel heard a slight hiss from Tancred.

He turned slightly to look at the royal pair. "I didn't know your father was on New Avalon, Lord Sandoval."

Tancred's eyes flicked to him but it was Yvonne's that widened in recognition. "He has been discreetly here for a few days, Master Holstein." She nudged Tancred forward covertly so they could speak softly without drawing attention to themselves.

"Discreetly?" The young lord kept his voice down but he shook his head. "He was hardly discreet at the negotiations. And the ambassador must have reported so the Combine knows he's here. It's only the court that's unawares."

Daniel frowned at that. The Catherine he knew certainly kept her own counsel but how was that going to work now she was at the least watching over the Federated Suns half of her brother's realm in his absence? "When you say he wasn't discreet?" he murmured, watching the Duke approach the dais at a slow, proud stride.

Tancred folded his arms. "He demanded the restoration of every world lost to the Combine since the end of the Third Succession War as a condition for withdrawing from the occupied worlds."

"What?" The Draconis March had been forced on the defensive in the Fourth Succession War and even victories in 3039 hadn't redressed that. "That's... a dozen worlds?"

"Fourteen. And we only have troops on one of them."

Yvonne pulled Tancred's hand down before he could gesture obviously and laced her fingers through his. "I believe it's a negotiating tactic. He and Catherine can't possibly expect that Theodore would accept such terms."

Trumpets sounded as Duke Sandoval reached the end of the hall, placing both his feet on the first step of the dais before dropping to one knee before the throne. "Princess Catherine," he declared - microphones picking up his words for speakers all around the room. "As Vice-Regent for your brothers I ask that you accept my oath of service to the Federated Commonwealth."

In turn, Catherine stepped forwards and extended her hands 'helping' the burly Field Marshal to rise to his feet. "Duke James, it is my honour to accept that oath from the Duke of Robinson, the Defender of the Draconis March and the Liberator of Marduk."

Daniel blinked and glanced at his companions. Other than a tightening of Tancred's lips they seemed far less shocked than many present. Catherineâ€™s words were tantamount to declaring that Marduk - one of the Combine worlds invaded by the Duke - would not be returned to House Kurita.

Although he did not kneel once more, James placed his hands between Catherine's and lowered his head. "I, James Sandoval, pledge my allegiance to the Federated Commonwealth and the House of Steiner-Davion, as represented here by our lawful Vice-Regent and elsewhere by our Regent Peter Steiner-Davion. I swear my commitment to the liberties and the wellbeing of our people, obedience to the Throne and to the Council."

Catherine seemed to hesitate. "And I, Catherine Morgan Steiner..." She paused a moment and then added with emphasis: "Davion, on behalf of my brother and of my house accept your allegiance. To repay your duty with loyalty and your service with respect. In the traditions common to our worlds."

Well at least that was done, Daniel thought drily. Now if George Hasek would make time to attend a formal court and offer the same then the three Marches of the old Federated Suns would be officially united behind Prince Victor... or at least behind Peter and Catherine, which was about the same thing.

He was about to say as much when he saw Yvonne's worried face and wondered if it was. Victor hadn't been mentioned at all.

"It is with pleasure," Catherine continued, as James removed his hands and turned to stand beside her, "That I can inform you that last night, the Combine's ambassador returned a verigraphed signature from Coordinator Kurita, affixed to a treaty ending the fighting between our two nations."

Daniel glanced at Tancred. "Did you know?" he murmured under the cover of the buzz of reactions around the room.

"Yes, but not the terms."

"We're about to find out the key points," Yvonne pointed out. "She's clearly about to tell us."

"Over the next two months our forces on Al Na'ir, An Ting, Matsuida and Proserpina will hand the worlds over to peacekeeping forces provided by the Word of Blake," Catherine declared. "And once we have fully withdrawn, the DCMS will regain control of these worlds. On Marduk, however, all remaining DCMS forces have been ordered to withdraw... and we will permit this. For that world, lost to the Suns more than thirty years ago, is now restored to us, through Duke Sandoval's resolution."

Tancred took a deep breath. "That's not as bad as it could be," he admitted grudgingly. "Both sides can probably live with that... for now."

There was a stony silence from Yvonne and both men looked at her. "Your highness?" Daniel asked cautiously.

"She's opposing Victor's allies," she said at last. "Choosing the Blakists over ComStar - or even mercenaries - to act as peacekeepers - and taking a Combine world."

Her discontent was hardly the pattern though. The voices of those around them seemed favorably inclined towards the agreement and the obvious approval of Duke Sandoval set a seal upon the matter.

Servants circulated, offering glasses and since it would hardly do to oppose the treaty, when Catherine called for a toast to the valour of the Armed Forces in the Draconis March, even Yvonne raised her glass and sipped.

The dais emptied as Catherine was drawn aside by Count DuVall and James Sandoval returned to the main floor, shaking hands with those eager to bask in the reflected glory.

"Master Holstein... Daniel." Yvonne stared at him. "You've spent more time with this Catherine than I've had any chance to. What is she after? What are her goals?"

He frowned in thought. "I don't think we ever discussed anything beyond liberating New Avalon. I assumed she wanted to end the civil war... well, also she was fairly strongly upset by talk of Lyran versus Suns or Davion versus Steiner so... at a guess she wants to repair the divisions between the two halves of the Commonwealth."

"That's hard to argue against," pointed out Tancred. "But also harder to do. The formal union of the thrones lasted only a couple of years before Katrina tore them apart."

"Perhaps she wants to use the Combine as an outside threat that both sides can agree to hate." Yvonne looked unhappy at the thought. "We have enough problems with the Capellans but that's not such an urgent issue to the Lyrans."

"Reuniting the Federated Commonwealth would shake the Star League." Tancred shook his head. "Most of the other lords would be very wary of it." He turned and looked into the crowd. "My father's coming."

A moment later and he was shown to be right as James Sandoval broke through another line of officers and stood facing his son. Both Sandoval stared at each other, heads turning in anticipation of a confrontation.

James was the first to speak. "Your grandfather fell out with his father too. They reconciled in the end, but it took years."

"I suppose strong wills run in the family."

"Yes." There was a twinkle in James' eye. "Mayetta was a defeat but I can't say you did wrong there. You earned respect from those you fought for, and those you fought against. No one blames you for Yalos' ambition." He extended his hand.

After a moment Tancred met it with his own and the two men shook, though there was enough tension in the younger man's shoulders that Daniel suspected the reconciliation might be only skin-deep.

"I'm surprised that you were persuaded to make peace with the Combine."

The duke turned to Yvonne and bowed his head slightly in respect. "Your sister had a convincing argument."

"May I ask...?"

James considered and then tilted his head towards the door. Tancred nodded and Daniel stepped aside as they began to leave the room. However, Yvonne caught his eye and beckoned for him to come with them.

"They're proud enough to quarrel," she murmured - deliberately loud enough for the Sandovals to hear. "But not in front of a guest. And I think your father will want to know the answer as well."

James smiled quite shamelessly at the assertion. "You seem to have found some backbone, princess. I approve. But who might you be, young sir?"

"Daniel Holstein, sir. My father has consulted at NAIS in the past."

"Ah, the dwarf. A clever man. Very well." Either he knew of the Heimdall connections or he simply didn't want to seem ill-informed.

Once out of the court, Yvonne spoke briefly to one of the staff and they were escorted to a small side-room where they could speak in private. Though less impressive than the throne room, Daniel noted that the furniture was still largely antiques and the oil painting on the wall was a minor historical treasure in its own right - the four hundred year old 'Wedding of Guenever Cameron', with the bride's half-brother (and future First Lord of the Star League) flanking the happy couple on one side and a future First Prince, Richard Davion, on the other.

"So how did Catherine persuade you?" asked Tancred.

"Theodore is no fool and he can't win wars on both his borders, so it only makes sense he'll make peace on one - even at a hit to his reputation - and then redeem himself in the eyes of his people with glorious victories against the other."

Yvonne arched an eyebrow. "And between us and Clan Ghost Bear?"

James shrugged. "As little as I like it, the fighting has cost us supplies and soldiers we would need for an extended conflict. Meanwhile, Catherine has information that another Clan, the Hells Horses, are seeking a foothold in the Inner Sphere and will strike at the Ghost Bears. At that point it will be in the Bears' interests to come to terms with Theodore as well - but if he's no longer at war with us then he has the opportunity to bring his full strength to bear - no pun intended - while they cannot do the same."

"And it gives us a chance to rebuild." Tancred nodded.

"But why the Blakists?" asked Daniel. "Why not mercenaries. Or ComStar? Is Catherine leaning towards them. I thought they were fanatics."

"They are," James agreed. "But we know very little of their strength - they have Terra and they have suppliers in the Free Worlds League. Calling on them to take over means we'll get a look at the troops they send and can assess their training and equipment." He made a face. "ComStar's neutrality has been strained already and if we used mercenaries, who would pay them?"

Yvonne shook her head. "Is Catherine looking to ally with Thomas Marik by offering the Word of Blake favour."

"That would be a pretty worthless alliance," the duke said dismissively. "Hadn't you heard? After Catherine's public appearances a lot of houses started doing blood tests to make sure they knew who their own kin were... and an awful lot of Mariks have suddenly begun to distance themselves from the Captain-General. I have to wonder what they found out."

The looks exchanged by Tancred and Yvonne suggested to Daniel that they had a good idea, but neither said anything.

Chapter 39
Durant, Algol
Capellan March, Federated Commonwealth
14 November 3063

The Fifteenth Deneb Light Cavalry were in full retreat as they entered the canyon.

Not in rout - their heavy 'Mechs were holding together and a guard force of lights and mediums were covering the rear but behind a light scout force there was only a mismatched array of support units and semi-functional combatants.

The first scout lance in was made up of Savannah Master hovercraft - light and agile but without the firepower or armour to survive an unexpected encounter with Crucis company of the Fifth Royal Guards.

Conner still had a working Mackie, although there were only a lance left in the company. His PPC ripped through the flank of one Savannah Master and ripped the reactor apart. He tried not to pay attention to the obviously human fragments that were among the debris left as the little tank came apart.

One of the Savannah Masters managed a tight turn and to escape, autocannon rounds from an Enforcer III chasing after it but not quite connecting.

On New Avalon, Peter had granted the three Davion Guards first pick of the salvage for their own rebuilding but earmarked available units from the military factories on the capital for the Fifth Royal Guards. As a result their average tonnage had plummeted, but so had the age of their 'Mechs.

"This is Baker Lead," Conner heard Searcy declare. "We just smacked their lead elements on the nose."

"Same here," he reported. "Now they know both these routes are plugged, maybe we can get them to stand down."

"Here's hoping."

Conner couldn't help but agree. There were almost a dozen canyons and gullies that the Fifteenth Deneb Light Cavalry could use to get through this part of the Shalom mountain range and Prince Peter had scattered the Fifth Royal Guards in penny packets to hold each of them. There was a reserve if they got pushed but it all depended on each little force holding out long enough to be reinforced.

On the flipside, with the Tenth Lyran Guards and Nineteenth Arcturan Guards behind them, the battered Light Cavalry really had nowhere else to go. They'd lost their dropships trying to ferry the last remnants of the Tikonov Republican Guards and supporting forces out of a similar pocket when FCS Hanse Davion had intercepted the sub-orbital hop. Four dropships had been destroyed - and the rest had surrendered rather than face the same treatment.

"I'll try talking to them," he decided. The loyalists had been intransigent so far but surely they could see the writing on the wall.

With one eye still on his display, Conner picked an open channel that the Light Cavalry should be monitoring. "Captain Sortek calling Deneb Light Cavalry, I repeat, this is Captain Sortek calling the Deneb Light Cavalry. Come in please."

It took three more repetitions before there was a reply. "Sortek, this is Fifteenth DLC. We hear you."

No name, no rank. "We have every pass in the mountains secured, DC. You can't get through and with two RCTs behind you, you can't go back. We both know it's over. The only question is how hard it has to be. Prince Peter is offering generous terms if you surrender."

There was a pause and when the reply came, it was another voice - older and harsher. "Captain Sortek, this is General Burim Jashari. We know the terms he gave the Sixth FedCom, so to put it mildly, you can shove those generous terms up your ass."

What? Who was Jashari? Conner yanked up the Fifteenth Deneb Light Cavalryâ€™s command structure on a secondary monitor. "I don't know what you mean, General. I was there when the Sixth surrendered."

"What I mean," the man said angrily. "Is that we have intel saying that several hundred of their personnel got vanished. Not just combatants, but technical staff too. Not dead in combat or interned for trial, just a quiet guilty silence."

Jashari! He found the name at last. Leftenant General commanding the infantry brigade. Fifth in line of command. What had happened to Marshal Lipstein and his other senior staff. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied. "If you're thinking they were massacred, you're out of your mind. Do you think my... Ardan Sortek would stand for that?"

"I'm saying it's awfully convenient that the Archon-Princess 'escaped' New Avalon and hasn't been seen since. You may be a Sortek, Captain, but Ardan Sortek is dead."

Conner stared at the screen. Seismic sensors were picking up movement outside the canyon mouth. Magscan showed the same. What was going on inside Jashari's head, what was heâ€¦? Oh!

"You damn fool, Jashari," he half-shouted. "The Sixth's personnel didn't get disappeared! They're right here on Algol - you're talking about the soldiers who joined Fifth Royal Guards!"

"...I can't believe you think I'm that gullible," the infantryman replied and there was a sharp click.

"Jashari!" Nothing. "Jashari!" Had he cut the comm line?

"Fast movers coming in!" warned Stephens and started backing his Fireball away from the mouth of the canyon. The light 'Mech had pulled back only a few yards when the first LRMs started to land.

Hover tanks were in the lead again, this time Maxim hover transports that must be carrying some of Jashari's infantry. That didn't make them less deadly, they outmassed some of the Royal Guard 'Mechs and mounted several missile launchers.

Nor were they slowing down as they entered the canyon dangerously fast. One mis-calculated and clipped the side of the entrance. It flipped over more than once before coming to rest upside down - Conner didn't want to think about what that must have done to the infantry inside.

The pass lit with fire as Conner's troops opened up on the Maxims. He saw the covers flip open on Jaq Hamer's Dervish's missile launchers. The woman - inevitably nicknamed Jackhammer - fired a full alpha strike into one of the Maxims right as it passed through the optimum two hundred metre range.

The hovercraft was wreathed in smoke for a moment by the missile explosions before it emerged and, perhaps unintentionally, swept one leg out from under the Dervish. Fifty-five tons of 'Mech landed on top of the hover tank and grounded it abruptly.

"Crucis Lead to command, we're being attacked!" Conner shouted into the Royal Guards command channel. His autocannon spun up, shots trailing after a frantically weaving Maxim. "They're trying to break through. We've got Maxims swarming over us and -"

Stephen's Fireball came to an abrupt halt as something hit the fleet little 'Mech dead centre. The Fireball toppled backwards onto the ground, a visible hole punched into its chest.

"And now 'Mechs," Conner added as the Hollander that had fired the killing shot loped deeper into the canyon, its long-barrelled gauss rifle tracking towards Conner's Mackie.

Before it could fire again he opened up with his PPC and medium lasers, firing each in succession and seeing already scarred armour breaking open under the weight of his fire.

The gauss rifle discharged, but the shot was low and only smashed armour over his Mackie's left thigh.

Teeth drawn back, Conner fired his LB 10-X autocannon and the sub-munitions scattered across the front of the thirty-five ton 'Mech. There was an explosion inside the Hollander and the targeting systems outlined its right torso - including the gauss rifle - as non-functional. The way the right arm hung limp was likely evidence of that.

Apparently undaunted, the Hollander's mechwarrior rushed his 'Mech forwards, letting other 'Mechs follow him in, and tried to close in on Ben Hutchins' Osiris.

Conner saw Hutchins twist away, twisting his SRM launcher to keep it on target long enough to punish the Hollander for its aggression and judged that the man had it under control.

â€œUnderstood, Crucis Lead.â€ Peterâ€™s voice on the comms was masked briefly by an explosion. â€œTheyâ€™re hitting us at five points, our reinforcements are on the way.â€

A Valkyrie and a Commando followed the Hollander in, and behind them something Conner's targeting computer struggled to pin down, flicking from Cataphract to Caesar and back until it finally grudgingly concluded it was the latter but using armour plating intended for the former. Not impossible, the two designs were very similar and battlefield repair sometimes required corners to be cut.

The Caesar's pulse lasers stitched a line of holes down the frontal armour of Conner's Mackie as it twisted to try to bring the waist-level gauss rifle around to bear. the move didn't quite work out as planned, for the delay gave Greg Huntington's Argus time to line up its own shot from the Rotary Autocannon mounted in one arm. Unprepared for the shocking weight of fire, the Caesar staggered, trying to compensate for the beating.

In turn, Conner fired his PPC and then his autocannon at the battered armour, his shots hitting just as Huntingdon ceased fire - the cursing on the company frequency suggesting he'd done so due to the autocannon jamming.

Unfortunately the Caesar's gauss rifle hadn't been taken out and it slammed into the Argus' arm right below the autocannon, probably removing any chance of getting the gun back into service without a technical team.

Undaunted, Huntington kept moving in, lighting up the Commando with his medium lasers. The light 'Mech turned on one heel, avoiding most of the shots but slowing to turn was its undoing as a rain of missiles descended from further back in the canyon where a lance of Eleventh Markab Panzer LRM Carriers were dug in.

Almost a ton of munitions descended on the Light Cavalry Commando and what emerged from explosions was a skeletal framework of a 'Mech. Pathetically, it raised its right arm towards the Argus and tried to fire the missile launcher in the forearm. To no one's surprise except possibly the pilot's, not a single tube fired.

Huntington's next shot blew out one knee and the Commando hit the ground, the outstretched right arm snapping like a dry twig as it met the canyon floor.

The Caesar wasn't focusing on the Argus any more and its Extended Range PPC raked along the right arm of Conner's Mackie. Not yet feeling the heat, Conner replied with his own ER PPC and added laser and autocannon fire to the mix, sending the other 'Mech - only two-thirds the size - staggering backwards.

With a cry of frustration at the Deneb Light Cavalry's stubbornness, Conner drove his Mackie forwards, face to face with the Caesar and lashed out with one large leg, cracking the plating over his target's shin.

Already off balance the Caesar crashed down onto its back, legs kicking wildly and ineffectually.

Conner started down, crosshairs centring by instinct on the cockpit glass... and then with deliberate effort he shifted his sights down and towards the gauss rifle, firing again.

Sparks flew from inside the Caesar as his autocannon ripped into the interior. His infrared display showed a surge towards red and then white before the heavy 'Mech's reactor shut down.

With a deep breath he looked around but there was nothing else to fight. The Valkyrie was down and if any of the Maxims had got past then they were out of view.

"Is everyone okay?" he asked, checking his company.

Voices chimed in and it quickly became clear the only 'Mech entirely out of action was Stephens' Fireball.

While fast, the little 'Mech had little in the way of armament or armour. Once shots penetrated its ammunition bins, all Stephens had been able to do was eject - and if he'd been any slower he would have been torn apart in the same way as his 'Mech.

The ejection seat had come down near one of the less damaged of the DLC's Maxim hover transports and Huntington had moved up to point his machinegun at the disgruntled infantry who'd escaped the wrecked hovertank, warning them off from trying anything against the Royal Guards' mechwarrior.

One of the soldiers glared up defiantly at the Argus, not letting go of the rifle in her hands.

"Fire then!" she challenged Huntington. "We know your prince had no mercy on the Sixth FedCom, we don't expect any now."

Conner was about to correct her when Huntington's voice cut in. "Sir, can you cover me while I set her straight?"

"Go right ahead, sergeant." He positioned his Mackie next to the Argus and saw the heavy 'Mech lock its limbs.

A moment later the hatch popped open and Huntington dropped a rope ladder down. He descended quickly, the shaking of the ladder showing his anger as it made each movement jerky.

Once on the ground, Huntington stalked over to the infantrywoman. "You have something to say about the Sixth FedCom?"

She nodded sharply. "Your prince massacred them. Everyone knows that."

"Really?" He pointed at his arm. Focusing a camera, Conner saw the tigers head tattooed just below the shoulder. Like most mechwarriors, Huntington's cooling vest left his arms bare. "You know what this is?"

"A tiger?"

"It's the badge of the Sixth FedCom RCT, you idiot," Huntington shouted in anger. "The Prince didn't massacre us, he recruited us!"

"What...? But... Your names just vanished from the rosters. That's what our intel said."

The Royal Guardsman shook his head. "Our names were withheld in case your damned Archon decided to go after our families. Blake's blood, don't any of you stop to think?"

"That's enough, Sergeant," Conner cut in over his loudspeakers. He focused his camera on the woman's rank tabs. "And you, corporal, lay down that rifle. We have infantry coming to collect you... but if you're still armed then the Prince's amnesty for surrendering personnel won't apply."

"What if I don't?" she asked stubbornly, although she lowered the rifle.

"The amnesty only covers any allegations of treason. Not the results of criminal stupidity."

drakensis · « **Reply #18 on:** June 17, 2019, 04:05:21 AM »

Part Seven - Federated Commonwealth

And it's been two years I miss my home
But there's a fire burning in my bones
Still believe
Yeah, I still believe

[/i]

Chapter 40
Aswan, Caph
Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth
13 February 3064

Caph was one of humanity's first extra-solar colonies and it had been one of the core worlds of the Terran Hegemony and by extension of the Star League. As the Star League fell, Caph had been left brutally scarred by fighting between Kerensky's and Amaris' forces... and then again as House Liao, House Kurita and House Davion fought over it.

Two of the world's three continents were no longer habitable, but from the vibrant capital city it was hard to imagine that. The thriving metropolis rivalled Avalon City for size and sophistication. Even the relatively sudden end of their brief independence within the Chaos March didn't seem to phase most of the populace.

Peter's temporary residence had been used by Caph's militia until Marshal Orsina had brought the Fourth Davion Guards Regimental Combat Team across the Lyran Alliance and reconquered the world in the name of the Federated Suns. There were various reasons Peter had decided not to argue with the terminology, including but not limited to the fact that Caph provided a perfect jumping off point for his task force to cross back into Lyran space.

It was also part of the immense double-chain of HPG stations that enabled two-way real-time contact between Tharkad and New Avalon and the holo display of his suite lighting up drew his attention away from the skyline of Aswan and towards two women sharing a couch, hundreds of light years away. "Yvonne, Catherine, how are you?"

Each was sat against one arm, leaving a sizeable separation, he noticed as they both greeted him with smiles. "We're doing well, of course," Yvonne assured him. "Catherine has even managed to persuade George Hasek to make a formal statement of support."

Peter grinned. Finally! He'd been worrying about the March Lord's continued intransigence. "How did you manage that, Cat?"

"I can hardly take credit," his blonde sister said quietly. "I think your efforts on Algol and Acamar were what swayed him. I heard about the casualties there."

That soured the mood immediately. The Fifth Royal Guards had lost more than a dozen mechwarriors between the fighting on those two worlds, and twice that many of their 'Mechs had had to be left behind for major repairs or even to be scrapped.

"It was less the enemy's ferocity than some carelessness," he said harshly. "I should have made sure they were more adjusted to using lighter 'Mechs that couldn't simply bull through enemy fire the way our Mackie II's used to." He'd had to keep the Royal Guards in reserve of Epsilon Indi, although fortunately the arrival of two additional RCTs had left no need to commit them - the Davion Light Guards and Fifth Davion Guards were holding the recovered worlds until formal garrison forces could become available.

"I don't believe that that's all of the answer, Catherine," Yvonne said mildly. "But it did help and it's probably why he agreed to contribute to our belated birthday present for you."

Peter blinked. He'd turned twenty-nine at the start of the month but it had hardly registered except for one evening drinking with his company commanders. "I wasn't really expecting you to send me anything."

"Consider it a joint gift from Duke Sandoval, Duke Hasek and the two of us," his younger sister told him. "The Glowworm should have reached Caph's jump point yesterday by command circuit along with your other supplies from Addicks."

"Yes... I think they did." He frowned in concentration. "Why?"

"In addition to twelve fully reconditioned Mackie IIs - quality checked to Daniel Holstein's personal satisfaction - she's carrying twelve Templar OmniMechs and twelve Sagittaires to join the Fifth Royal Guards." Catherine smiled a little more sincerely. "Hopefully some of those less suited to lighter rides can now be back in their comfort zone."

He grinned and rubbed his jaw. "You know exactly what I want." A full battalion of assault 'Mechs would do wonders for the Royal Guards' strength.

"Well we were hoping to give you Kath-rina." Yvonne caught herself at the last moment and glanced guiltily at Catherine before continuing. "But we have no news of her. Just two unconfirmed sightings of the Lucien Davion."

"Two? I heard about Marlette -" A merchant jumpship had reported picking up a warship in the outer system - which could be a mistake of course. "But where else?"

"Similarly tenuous. The DCMS claim an Avalon-class cruiser was recharging at Styx - but they aren't sharing their sensor data so it could just be posturing over losing Marduk. I don't think Theodore Roosevelt would play such games but he has many subordinates."

"Kurita," Yvonne corrected her, with an air that suggested she was growing used to it.

"Pardon?"

"You said Theodore Roosevelt."

"Oh." Catherine frowned in irritation at herself. "Yes. My bad."

"It's plausible," Peter noted, pretending to ignore Catherine's lapse. "If Katrina is headed for Tharkad then Styx is the sort of backwater system she might be able to get away with passing through - although Draconis space might be risky it's avoids any chance of running into my forces here in the Chaos March."

"The surprise is that she hasn't contacted ComStar somewhere to have them send messages to try to stabilise her support. Losing New Avalon is bad for her but she could have mitigated it by remaining visible."

Yvonne nodded in agreement with Catherine. "Tancred's still got some hot spots to deal with but with the march lords supporting us, all the key industrial and command worlds look securely with us in the Federated Suns. Nondi can't say the same for the Lyran Alliance. There's not a day that goes by without news of another riot somewhere or fighting."

"If she's losing control then this could be the end of the beginning ."

"The beginning of the end perhaps." Peter glanced at Catherine and saw Yvonne doing the same - was she slipping like this so often? That probably didn't look good to the public. "Have you been able to get an idea of what forces she can rely on?"

"It's hard to pin down for sure, but a lot of regiments are finding reasons that they need to stay on their base worlds to cover the border and deal with the local conflicts." Yvonne pursed her lips. "She can count on the Royal Guards, of course, and it looks like the four remaining Jaeger units are in her pocket still."

The Coventry Jaegers had attacked Victor's ally, Duke Bradford, on Coventry itself last year. While the Duke's own forces had been crushed by the Jaegers, Victor's arrival had saved him and secured Coventry Metal Works to help supply the allied forces in the Lyran Alliance. The Jaegers had taken months to destroy though - like Katrina's forces on Algol, very few had been willing to surrender.

"The good news is that her hold on Skye has almost entirely collapsed," added Catherine optimistically. "The Skye Jaegers aside, the Skye Rangers seem to be paying more attention to Robert Kelswa-Steiner than Nondi. That's a problem in and of itself, but Caesar Steiner arrived in the region and swung all the Donegal Guards RCTs present - including the three that were in the Suns - over to our side. He can squash Robert flat if he tries anything."

"That's great news - what about Hesperus II?" Almost entirely unpopulated, Hesperus II was home to the largest 'Mech factories in the Inner Sphere, heavily fortified and guarded by at least two Regimental Combat Teams.

"As far as we can tell, all three units there taking the position that securing Defiance Industries for the Lyran Alliance is more important than holding it for either side - they'll fight if attacked, but unless we do that then we can discount the Fifteenth and Thirty-Sixth Lyran Guards, the Gray Death Legion and FCS Simon Davion."

"I can't say they're wrong," Peter agreed. The Simon Davion was a sister ship to his own flagship, the Hanse Davion. There were other warships in Skye Province, but without the Avalon-class cruiser they'd be hard-pressed to threaten him. "If Caesar is on Skye, I should be able to join up with him there and then we can pincer Tharkad between us and Victor."

His sisters exchanged glances and his heart sank. "What?"

"Victor is already moving on Tharkad," Yvonne told him. "He's leaving Coventry today."

Peter blinked. "But... he's only got..." He thought a moment. "Okay, five Regimental Combat Teams and some supporting units... that's more than we had on New Avalon, but he'll have more opposition than we had to deal with."

Catherine nodded. "I know. And four of them are from this side of the Commonwealth - he only has two Lyran units with him - the Seventeenth Donegal Guards and Archer's Avengers. Nondi may not be the sharpest political mind but even she can spin this in line with Katrina's Davion versus Steiner..." She searched for a word and settled on: "Ideology."

Sitting back, Peter activated his noteputer and checked his files. "Aunt Nondi's logical recourse is to bring in the task force she's been assembling to go after Coventry. With only the Eleventh Arcturan Guards and two Provincial Militias it's far from large enough to handle Victor's forces alone but added to the two Royal Guards RCTs on Tharkad, it can probably buy time for her to try to sway other units or to bring in the Jaegers."

"All three of the Royal Guards RCTs," Yvonne corrected him. "We've had confirmation that the Third Royal Guards aren't headed for Dalkeith after all - they're on the way to Tharkad and they'll beat Victor there."

"Then the numbers are close to even, and Aunt Nondi has the defensive advantage. What's Victor thinking? Given a couple more months we could combine our forces."

His youngest sister looked pensive. "His messages suggest he's concerned about Katrina. She could have reached Tharkad by now and if she hasn't then it could happen any time. He wants to take Tharkad before she can take the reins once more - just her presence would bolster her cause significantly."

Peter uttered a curse under his breath. "What's she going to do that Nondi can't? She's no general."

"She's also outmaneuvered Victor repeatedly," Catherine said quietly. "On the political battlefield, yes, but that's all the more deadly. We can't afford to underestimate her."

There was a long pause and then the prince rubbed his jaw. "Okay. I can't wait any longer then. The Davion Guards can stay in the Terran Corridor to secure a supply route back to Addicks - bringing them into the Lyran Alliance was always going to be inflammatory, even if the Fourth were willing to go back there."

"So you're moving now?"

Peter nodded. "We have three warships - that should be enough to deal with the two corvettes in Skye if they side with Nondi. Since Uncle Caesar is keeping Skye pacified I should be able to cross it quickly and reinforce Victor. If he can win, great. But if he can't then he should be able to hang on long enough for me to arrive."

"As long as you don't get defeated in detail," Catherine warned.

"I'd have to make some pretty major mistakes for that to happen," he told her confidently. "I've got the Pride of the Federated Commonwealth with me, after all."

Yvonne smiled, but she shook her head. "You know what goeth before a fall, Peter."

"Oh I know. But seriously. Between the Pride, four Regimental Combat Teams and two other 'Mech regiments -" the Tenth Lyran Guards, Twentieth Avalon Hussars, Nineteenth Arcturan Guards, First Ceti Hussars, Third Lyran Regulars and First Federated Suns Armored Cavalry "- Nondi would have to bring everything else she has together in one place to stop us."

"Or warships."

Peter paused and acknowledged the point. "Okay, yes. But she'd have to send those covering Tharkad to match ours and with Victor on the way, she can't afford that."

"It's still a risk."

He nodded soberly. "But Victor's forced our hand with his own risk. If Katrina returns and Victor gets himself killed, she could very well consolidate her position as Archon and regain control of the Alliance. She's had years longer to dig in there. If that goes on..."

The three Steiner-Davions looked at each other, each seeing the same determination in their siblings.

"You'd better wake up your staff then," Catherine said at last. "Good luck, Peter."

Peter nodded and closed the channel. When he looked out of the window, Caph's star was low in the sky, a brilliant sunburst over Aswan's towering buildings. The sight reminded him of the sunburst that formed half of the Federated Commonwealth's heraldry and he raised his hand before it in a fist, completing the image.

"Time," he said to himself. "Ask me for anything but time."

Chapter 41
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
24 March 3064

Yvonne got a nod from Catherine's secretary - a woman pulled from the palace's general secretarial pool back when Catherine was just a newly arrived member of the royal family and less than two months later had found herself running the office of the effective head of state - and entered the main office without nodding.

It was her - their - father's office once, then Victor's... and Katherine had been using it as well, something that still elicited a shiver from the youngest Steiner-Davion. Who was Katherine really? For that matter, where was she?

"Catherine? Your secretary said you weren't doing anything urgent."

While the face behind the desk was still unnervingly familiar, the much shorter hair thankfully provided an obvious signifier that this wasn't the ousted blonde but the one Peter vouched for. And, Yvonne realised with a touch of judgmentalism, one who'd been doing a fairly good job of not just holding things together in Peter's absence but tying up the wounds of the war.

"Not urgent," Catherine agreed. She pushed her chair away, looking away from the documents being projected into the air in front of her (a holo-projector was cunningly concealed in the wooden desk). "Just reviewing reports from the Colonelcy Board."

"The what now?"

Lips curled, Catherine clarified: "General Abrams' board - the rank reviews?"

"Oh yes. Why do you call it that?"

"I didn't, FNS are calling it that. Presumably because we're formally reinstating the rank of Colonel."

Yvonne nodded in understanding. "I never understood why that was thrown out when the LCAF and AFFS merged - it was one of the few ranks they had in common, wasn't it?" She went to one of the couches in the office and put one hand on the back in silent invitation.

Catherine pushed back her chair. "I blame Seattle," she said as she walked around the desk, not explaining the cryptic response.

They sat facing each other and the younger sister hesitated before asking: "Have you thought about the future?"

The smile on Catherine's lips was self-deprecating. "Just a bit." She spread her arms and wiggled her fingers to indicate the breath of that 'bit'. "Time is a fire in which we burn, Yvonne."

"Are you being morbid or...?"

"It sounded better in my head." The blonde smiled a little sadly. "What scale are you contemplating the future of?"

Yvonne leant back and eyed the other woman. "The future of the Federated Commonwealth and the Star League."

"It's entirely possible that neither has very much of a future," Catherine told her immediately.

"...you say that so easily."

"The Star League exists because it benefits all of the members. It's a purely voluntary association... and it was to a very large degree driven by the threat of the Clans. Victor, Theodore and..." She hesitated. "Mansdottir, are all concerned by that. Katrina should have been, but... Katrina. Thomas Marik and Sun-Tzu Liao have no direct stake in those threats - I suspect Thomas was pressured the Word of Blake since they have an ideological opposition to the Clans. Sun-Tzu just didn't want to be the one left out."

"The Clans are still there, aren't they?"

"Yes... but not as a unified force. Actually, I think they're going to face some very... interesting conflicts between themselves, but that's getting away from the point." Catherine considered and then shrugged. "Overall, Clan Ghost Bear are the strongest of the Clans right now - the Wolves and Jade Falcons are still weakened by their war seven years ago and other conflicts since. But the Draconis Combine is fighting the Bears fairly effectively right now, and with little to no outside help. The Clans are no longer the menace they once were."

"And without an outside threat, you think the Star League will break up - the way the Allies of World War II did once the Cold War broke out?"

"That's an awful historical parallel, but not entirely inaccurate," Catherine said with a wince. "Right now, the Star League is missing it's primary focus and without another that we can all agree on, it will be of reduced influence. It didn't exactly do anything about our recent war with the Combine and Theodore is the First Lord."

Yvonne nodded slowly. "Where does that take us, back to the Succession Wars?"

"Well not the early ones, at least I hope not. Although the technology for that level of savagery is more available now that it has been - warship fleets, for example. If someone starts breaking out the canned sunshine -"

The term got a blink and then a snicker from Yvonne, who fought it down just a little too late.

Her sister gave her an arched eyebrow and then wry smile. "Not a term to use in public, I confess. But yes. The Star League may have value as a restraint but if two or three of the major powers withdrew then it might collapse entirely."

"There wouldn't be many members left in that case," Yvonne pointed out and then paused. "Unless others joined it... but the Periphery was never interested and all the states in the Inner Sphere are members. Except the Word of Blake - have they contacted you?"

"I may be reading too much into it."

"Do you think that it would be wise? They're fanatics in Myndo Waterly's mould." Yvonne shivered, recalling how the former Primus had attempted to seize control of the entire Inner Sphere in the wake of the Battle of Tukkayid. The youngest Steiner-Davion had been only thirteen years old, but she remembered how her parents had been forced to divert resources to neutralise the plot after it was leaked by a Combine spy inside Waterly's inner circle.

Catherine leant forwards. "Keep your friends close, Yvonne, and your enemies closer."

"Ah." She shook her head though, still discomforted by the recollection. "And when it comes to the Federated Commo-"

Yvonne was cut off by a chime from the intercom. "Excuse me, your highness." The secretary's voice was cool and professional. "Count Allard and his grandson are here on what they advise is urgent business.

Catherine turned her hands palm up and shrugged. "Count Allard's judgement is usually sound. As is his grandson's." She went to the door of the office and returned a moment later with Quintus Allard and Quintus Allard-Liao, both looking grave.

"It's not news of your family, I hope?" Yvonne greeted them.

Quintus the younger shook his head. "No, your highness. So far as we're aware, my mother and siblings are well, other than being constrained to remain on Sian. The news is from somewhat further afield."

The sisters exchanged glances. "I think we're braced for the worst," Catherine said slowly.

"Our sources from the Lyran Alliance have pinned down the troop movements we've been concerned about," the Count informed them. "Unfortunately, it is as we feared - the redeployments to deal with the unrest were merely a cover for reinforcing Tharkad's defenses."

"It's not really a surprise. None of the worlds affected are as critical as the capital."

Yvonne called to mind the situation on Tharkad when she'd last been briefed. Although the forces were approximately equal in strength, Victor had used Nondi's need to maintain a grip on the capital to his advantage and landed on the smaller continents of Heidelberg and Franze. With local superiority they'd been overrun with relative ease, providing a foothold for the Allies from which Victor planned to move to Bremen, the planet's largest continent and the location of the Triad.

"How bad is it?" she asked the Allards.

"The timing was very bad." Quintus Allard's lined face showed more resolve than it did sympathy. "The orbitals had remained contested and Victor's warships were focused on protecting the Bremen landings until too late. Both of the corvettes on loan from Phelan Kell were damaged trying to hold off LAS Yggdrasil and her escorts, although we believe one of Nondi's corvettes has been almost crippled. As a result, loyalist commands were able to set down on Heidelberg and overrun Victor's supply bases there."

Catherine rubbed her forehead. "What strength are they in?"

Quintus opened his noteputer and gave the contents a cursory glance. "The Donegal Jaegers and two regimental combat teams: the Third Lyran Guards and the Third Donegal Guards."

"So Victor's lost his supply base and he's outnumbered?" Yvonne gripped the arm of the couch. "Are there no reinforcements we can send?"

"Unfortunately, while many of the LAAF forces have shifted away from directly support of your sister during her continuing absence, very few are willing to support your brother either. And the exceptions are faced by other concerns."

"Robert Kelswa," Yvonne spat.

Catherine nodded. "Duchess Aten still hasn't woken from her coma and with her eldest daughter dead, that leaves Skye effectively in the hands of Robert and Hermione. Even if we wanted to risk moving troops away, by the time Caesar reorganised jumpships for it, Peter would be there with his task force."

"Can't Morgan Kell do anything?"

Quintus Jr. shook his head. "The Jade Falcons are mustering their forces. While it's tempting to think they're going to turn on Clan Wolf, it seems more likely that their Khan sees this as her last opportunity to blood troops against us before the Civil War is won. As a result, the Arc-Royal Defense Cordon can't spare any significant forces. With two warships and a battalion of the Kell Hounds already on Tharkad, they they can't afford to send more."

"It could be worse though."

They all looked at Catherine. "While it always could get worse, your highness, do you have something specific in mind?" asked the Count.

"The Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards are on Donegal, only a jump away from Tharkad," she pointed out. "They could have been easily brought in and we've been assuming they were loyal to Nondi. Peter Riskind and Sabine Steiner are a formidable command team, but if they're still on Donegal then Victor may not need to face them."

Allard nodded. "You're correct, and we have no indications that they're preparing to move."

"If Sabine isn't moving to support her grandmother," (Sabine was their second cousin and one of Nondi Steiner's grandchildren) "then I have to wonder why."

Catherine shrugged. "Possibly she sees the writing on the wall - or possibly Riskind is forcing neutrality on her. He might have had to detain her in the latter case..."

"There is a third possibility," pointed out the youngest Allard-Liao. "She would hardly be the first Steiner to harbour political ambitions and she's very close to the throne - arguably the best outside you Steiner-Davions, should her mother and grandmother be discounted."

"Another would-be Katrina Steiner," Yvonne noted sourly, recalling that Sabine's military acumen had been likened to the former Archon.

"A better one than the last." Catherine made a face. "Not my first choice, or my second, but if it comes to a compromise then she might be one we can live with."

"A compromise where the Federated Commonwealth is no more."

Catherine spread her hands. "Not my first or second choice."

Chapter 42
New Glasgow, Skye
Skye Province, Lyran Alliance
21 April 3064

Skye was... interesting. In the Capellan sense of the word.

Peter had visited the Ducal Palace, paying respects to Hermione Aten - who seemed increasingly likely to be the Duchess as her mother's coma continued. Her husband Robert had been 'unavoidably detained' elsewhere but the youngest Aten had made pointed comments about how she and Robert had both lost parents to terrorism.

It was more than likely, Peter thought, that she was on the entirely too long list of people that knew that Victor had had Robert's father Ryan assassinated in retaliation for the murder of Galen Cox. Of course, for all those who knew it to be true, virtually everyone with a nose for politics suspected it.

"It's a terrible shame about Margaret," his host told him, offering him a glass.

"I'm not sure I should be drinking," he told Caesar Steiner, but accepted it anyway.

"It's not a cure to everything, but it eases the pain of dealing with the littlest Aten." His distant uncle sipped his glass judiciously. "Some of Kell's people very nearly got her and Ilse out, but the Skye security thought they were in on it and in the confusion..." He shrugged. "Poor communication kills."

"Yes." The contents of the glass were smooth, probably deceptively so, Peter thought. Wetting his lips more than once might not be wise. "On the other hand, if they hadn't been there then all three Atens could have been killed."

"A mixed blessing. Robert's in this Free Skye thing up to his neck, but he's as wily as his father so we can't pin it on him. And whatever he does, don't believe for a moment that Hermione isn't in it with him. They're two of a kind."

"I'd rather come to the same conclusion." He set his glass down. "And the Skye Rangers all rushed back here so I assume that they'll fall in with Kelswa-Steiner if it comes to it."

"Almost certainly," Caesar agreed without hesitation. "If that happens I'll wipe out the entire brigade - but that won't do anything for public opinion."

"A possibility best avoided - but of course that means I can't take you with me to Tharkad."

The older man shook his head. "I'm sure Reinhart will uphold the family honour." His son commanded the BattleMech regiment of the Tenth Lyran Guards. "I thought you were bringing one of the Ceti Hussar RCTs as well?"

"Some of the jumpships needed repairs - nothing serious but we've been pushing them fairly hard shuffling units - so I left them behind. Since we have the opportunity, I told Marshal Lamont to see if he could secure other worlds within the Chaos March. We need the Terran corridor re-established if the Federated Commonwealth is to have any future."

"You believe that it does?"

Peter considered the man asking the question seriously and nodded. "I believe both halves have benefited a great deal from it. One of the things that Katrina used to try to discredit Victor's rule after 3057 was the economic problems in the Suns. Granted, she exaggerated some of those issues, and others resulted from her sitting on much of the military jumpship fleet, forcing Victor to lean more heavily on civilian shipping..."

"I'm familiar."

"Yes. But at root, both sides of the Federated Commonwealth saw reduced economic growth after the Alliance seceded. The Lyran manufacturers profited from the markets of the Suns and access to Lyran production stabilised those markets, letting the Suns diversify in ways they hadn't for centuries."

Caesar grunted. "Money talks, I'll give you that. But politics is more about emotion and your sister has stirred that up good and proper."

"I know. The damage she's done to relations between both halves won't be made right easily - but at the same time, that gulf still isn't as wide as it once was, not when my parents chose to bridge it for the first time."

"Civil war can be polarising. It may be wider than you think."

Peter rubbed his chin. "Is that what Victor's thinking?"

"I couldn't say."

Slumping back into his chair, Peter looked across the table at the general. "Where do you stand?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Right." He sighed. "Do you need anything to help hold Skye together?"

"I wouldn't say no to another regiment or two, but it's been worse."

Peter nodded decisively. "The Third NAIS Cadre is made up of heavy and assault 'Mechs. I'll detach them to reinforce you - if nothing happens then they'll get to broaden their horizons here on Skye. and if the worst does, you'll have a heavy unit to complement the Second Donegal Guards."

Caesar tossed back the rest of his drink. "A bunch of green cadets? Alright, I'll take it. If nothing else, those fresh-faced kids'll look good on the holos."

"If we can win this battle with PR instead of guns, then so much the better. We're going to need all our firepower when the Jade Falcons move."

"You're sure they will?"

"They're more vultures than birds of prey. Katrina was useless against them five years ago, and now we throw a civil war into the mix... Everything I've heard about them makes it just a matter of time."

"And the SLDF isn't likely to join us - Theodore Kurita isn't calling on them against the Ghost Bears, so he's unlikely to let the fight the Jade Falcons for us." Caesar had been the Lyran liaison to the SLDF since it was reformed and remained well informed, even now.

Peter set his own glass down. "Which is a problem in and of itself. But one we'll need to deal with another day."

"Yes, taking care of Nondi and the Falcons will take both hands." Caesar's eyes narrowed. "You've still got enough forces to tip the balance on Tharkad, but there's no knowing if Victor will still be alive when you get there."

"I couldn't swear that he's alive now." Peter glanced out the window and then back. "Unless your news is more current than mine."

"He was alive two days ago, when he tried to come down on the Triad from the north. I think if your great-aunt had killed or captured him, she'd have let everyone know that. It'd be a blow - no offense, but you don't have as much of a reputation as your brother. Yet."

"That assumes she knows. But someone pulled the Prince's Men back in good order, so here's hoping."

Without his supply bases, Victor had been operating a mobile campaign across the northern ice fields of Bremen. So far Nondi had been content to keep a strong garrison with her at the Triad - the three Royal Guards RCTs, that had stalled the attack on the 19th - while General Esteban hunted for Victor's task force with other regiments.

"Assuming what she has said is true though," Peter continued, "He's taken losses - serious losses. And I doubt he has the supplies to rebuild from it."

"Much like Bishop Sortek's position then," Caesar said with a smile and offered Peter a topping up before filling his own glass for a second time.

drakensis · « **Reply #19 on:** June 17, 2019, 04:06:24 AM »

Chapter 43
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Lyran Alliance
30 May 3064

Searcy was glad to be free of the city streets as he marched his Sagittare up the slopes towards the Triad.

Behind them, entirely too many of Tharkad City's broad avenues were clogged by smashed tanks and broken BattleMechs, buildings with scarcely an intact window and many with ruptured walls or even roofs.

Some of his company complained about it being Avalon City all over again, but to Michael Searcy it could only recall Solaris and that - in hindsight - dreadful August week after he and Vandergriff had crashed into the stands at the Colosseum and ignited a firestorm. God, it was closer to two years than one now.

The Robinson-built Sagittaire was a far cry from the increasingly wartorn Mackie he'd used in the Federated Suns. Five tons heavier - slower on the ground but it boasted jump-jets, which were a crucial advantage in the city. Out here, as the towering political heart of the Lyran Alliance loomed in front of them... well, it would help.

So would the cold. The outside temperature was dropping as night came on. Despite the warmth of his fusion reactor, Searcy shivered at the stark landscape. "Are you sure you want to push on, boss?" he asked on a private channel. "Tomorrow, we'd have more 'Mechs ready - and your brother would have caught up."

"It's tempting," Peter Steiner-Davion admitted in a voice that betrayed more fatigue than he'd shown in the briefing session earlier. "But it also gives them longer to make repairs and assemble stragglers." Then, voice steely: "I want this done, Michael."

"Your Royal Guards against Nondi Steiner's."

"It seems that that's how it must be."

It was about all that was left to Nondi's hard core of loyalists. Maria Esteban's command - her own Eleventh Arcturan Guards and militia from Alarion and Carlisle had done their best to relieve the Third Lyran Guards and the Donegal Jaegers as they hung onto the spaceport, but numbers - and fresh mechwarriors not worn down by weeks of battles - had told. Esteban had offered her surrender to General Gloria Bishop's Nineteenth Arcturan Guards - the sister regiment giving assurances of fair treatment.

The advance into Tharkad City had been blunted, then stalled as the Royal Guards sallied forth. Searcy could still see the carnage if he closed his eyes - a Demolisher II tank had blocked up Baker Company for twenty minutes, hull down in a parking garage, until their own armour had caught up and rooted it out. He was four 'Mechs down as a result. Three of the mechwarriors hadn't made it out.

"Do we have intel on what she has left?"

"A little better than two battalions - mostly First and Second Royal Guards. Reinhart Steiner tells me that less than a company of the Third Royals made it out of the city, and I believe him," Peter advised.

"So about our numbers," Searcy thought out loud. Nondi could still command the Third Donegal Guards in theory, but they'd been holding back what was left of Victor's forces alone all day - and the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry had been sent after their rear area so they were in no position to affect matters tonight. "A fair fight."

Peter's voice was as cold as the frost outside. "Fair or foul, we must win."

"Then we shall," Searcy offered in assurance they both knew was false.

There was nothing subtle about the advance and Nondi responded in kind. The outermost perimeter of the Triad was nothing more than a wire fence and cameras to keep out trespassers and the press. The space between that fence and the walls with the real defenses was an open killing ground and the Fifth Royal Guards' light and medium 'Mechs fell behind a wedge of heavy and assault machines as turrets began to open fire.

Only moments later, Royal Guards' Mechs - their colours identical to those of the Fifth - surged out to meet them.

Searcy saw Crucis Company drive forward to meet a loyalist spearhead of Fafnir and Hauptmann assault weights but there was no time to intervene - a pair of Ontos tanks opened up on him with LRMs and he fired his jump jets, hopping aside before the rain of missiles could scour away armour from the wedge-shaped torso of his Sagittaire.

A blue-and-white painted Zeus reared up in front of him - even without the golden rattlesnake of the Third Royal Guards and the blue Lyran Alliance badge where he wore the Fist-and-Sunburst, Searcy knew it for an enemy: there were no Zeus in the Fifth.

The Zeus had opened up on Scott Tracker's Mackie, a twin-barrelled laser - was that a 'Mech scale blazer? - tearing into the heavier 'Mech's armour.

Catching it from the flank, Searcy let his targeting computer pinpoint the weak spots and then fired his pulse lasers into poorly patched plating over the right shoulder. The air inside his cockpit heated to almost scorching levels and amber-lights flared but the precision burst ripped away the armour and deep into the joint, severing the limb and sending it to the ground.

The Zeus kept firing at Tracker until an Osiris soared in on its jump jets, attempting a dangerous death-from-above and spoiling Searcy's second shot.

The mechwarrior in the Zeus back-stepped, avoiding the charging Osiris's landing, then stepped forwards again, hitting the light 'Mech with a savage kick.

One leg crumpled and the Fifth Royals' Osiris hit the ground - it must be Tracker's brother Andy - the younger mechwarrior had been recruited out of the Fifth Crucis Lancers on Algol where he'd been shot out of his Valkyrie by the Republican Guards early in the campaign.

Searcy fired his ER PPC and saw the Zeus turn towards him only to take a shoulder-charge from Tracker's Mackie. Both mechs crashed forwards, the Mackie on top, and Searcy shifted his focus to the next available targets, absently ordering Jason Scott to help Andy Tracker get his 'Mech up and help finish off the Zeus - with two hand actuators, his Phoenix Hawk could deal with the first and it lacked the armour to join Searcy on the frontline.

A trio of Royal Guards 'Mechs were advancing, a Hauptmann OmniMech and a pair of Griffins. None showed any armour damage so far.

"Bannson, with me," he ordered tersely. One omni-mech deserved another and the company's one Templar might be as unfamiliar to the Lyrans as the Hauptmann was to mechwarriors from the Federated Suns.

A moment later the Gauss Rifle mounted in Bannson's Templar fired a shot into the upper glacis of the Hauptmann, scarring the 'Mech's armour to one side of the forward-jutting head.

The two faced off and the Griffins conformed to the Hauptmann's movements, confirming his suspicion that the two were acting as bodyguards - which made the assault â€˜Mech's pilot someone important - perhaps one of the regimental commanders.

With his heat comfortably in the green, Searcy felt safe to risk an alpha strike against the nearer of the two Griffins. Planting his 'Mech's feet squarely he stitched pulse lasers across the smaller 'Mech as the mechwarrior inside threw up the right arm to cover his vulnerable cockpit and the missile launcher next to it.

The move preserved the LRM launcher, and the ER PPC in the right arm, but at the cost of almost all the armour protection across the lower chest, Searcy's PPC lashed out and adding to the damage. His heat spike briefly into the red and only slowly back into the amber.

At this close range, Searcy thought he could see the enemy mechwarrior inside his cockpit. He flared his jump jets the moment his temperature allowed it, guessing that the Lyran mechwarriors wouldn't guess that the Sagittaire would mount them and was rewarded when he only took glancing hits from their lasers and the rest of their fire went wild.

The ninety-five ton 'Mech came down knees first against the chest of the Griffin that he'd targeted - not a perfect Death From Above, but he hadn't been planning on one - like any canny Solaris Mechwarrior he knew to aim for weak spots and heavy, claw-like feet of Searcy's Sagittaire caved in the already compromised armour below the LRM launcher.

The explosion of the LRM storage almost ruined his landing - it did tear through the chest of the Griffin, wrecking the missile launcher and cutting the critical shoulder connections to the PPC. While cellular storage saved the lighter 'Mech's engine, it was left with only a single laser to fight back with.

The second Griffin had bounded backwards to avoid being caught the same way, its ER PPC tearing through almost all the protection to the left of the Sagittaire's spine. Another hit there could be crippling, and even a single laser might be enough.

Twisting his assault 'Mech, Searcy brought the right arm weapons-mounts around, sweeping the damaged Griffin's remaining arm and the laser on it out of line of his 'Mech.

His crosshairs pulsed gold as it intersected the second Griffin's outline but he waited until they were right over the cockpit before he triggered the pulse lasers in his left arm and chest, saving his fire to bring his internal temperatures down.

Not all the pulses of coherent light hit where he needed them to - but at least two did and no Mech cockpit could take take that beating.

The Griffin fell backwards, a blackened hole marking what had once been the 'face' of its head.

Not pausing, Searcy spun his Sagittaire towards the remaining Griffin, which backed away, a shot from its medium lasers scarring the armour protection over his ER PPC. He fired without hesitation or mercy.

Both his large lasers struck home, stitching holes in the remaining frontal armour of the 'Mech and destroying the lion's head badge on the left breast. Then the PPC bolt hit dead-centre, ripping through the paper-thin protection over the Griffin's gyro. What had begun as a backwards stagger under the impacts turned into a collapse to the frozen ground.

As welcome as that victory was, the battle was far from over. The outer wall had been breached and Searcy saw a Mackie - he thought it might be Peter himself - charge through it, ducking to avoid fire from the Fafnir that tried to fill the gap and shoulder-ramming it backwards to allow lighter Mechs of 'Peter's Pride' access to the court itself.

Before he could join them, however, Searcy would need to deal with the Hauptmann and the explosion of Bannson's gauss rifle as shots hit its capacitors told him that he wasn't done there yet.

The Hauptmann was smoking - not just from the ludicrously placed small laser in the head but from a gaping hole in the right side from which coolant was leaking. In return though, Bannson's Templar was missing its entire right side except the leg...

Including the leg, in fact, as the Hauptmann's autocannon roared and shells ripped the already battered limb apart.

Searcy pushed his Sagittaire into a run towards the pair of embattled assault 'Mechs. A volley of long-range missiles hammered into the ground around him, save for a few that chipped away at his armour. For a moment he thought it was the Ontos tanks from earlier but then he spotted a battered Archer leaning against the fortifications, missile launchers still showing signs of the contrails.

Disdaining to waste attention upon the 'Mech, he left it to a Royal Guards Osiris to deliver a coup de grace with its medium lasers and focused his attention on the Hauptmann.

The enemy mechwarrior very nearly missed his approach, firing another furious volley from its large lasers and autocannon that stripped away layers of armour from the struggling Bannson - the Hauptmann only turned at the last moment to try to avoid taking Searcy's first ER PPC shot against its damaged flank. Instead the lightning clawed away protection from the right arm's elbow to its shoulder.

Seconds later, the upper limb was severed entirely as Searcy reached the effective range of his large pulse lasers and fired them as a pair into the still upraised arm.

The arm - weighing something on the order of ten tons on its own - hit the ground with a thump audible even inside his cockpit and decisively drew the Hauptmann's attention from Bannson. Searcy dodged sideways as the other mechwarrior opened fire. The autocannon was the main threat and he managed to avoid it but lasers slashed armour away from his torso while two of the four Streak SRMs fired hit his cockpit, the impacts throwing Searcy against his restraints.

In return he zeroed in on the already damaged right torso, close enough now for his own small and medium lasers. "I'll take you apart piece by piece if I have to," he muttered and his shots ripped away the remaining protection.

The explosions that followed made it clear to him that he'd found the main ammunition bins. The bulk of the stored missiles and autocannon rounds' fury was vented out of the rear as pre-weakened panels gave way but the sheer explosion left the Hauptmann staggering, the mechwarrior having to sink down onto its haunches until the gyro fully compensated - and possibly until their ears stopped ringing.

While the autocannon and one missile launcher were left, without ammunition they were useless and the limited laser array was dangerous, but far less than Michael Searcy could bring to bear.

Circling to the left exposed the side of the Hauptmann, which struggled to keep up with the more nimble Sagittaire barely able to bring its weapons to bear. Shot after shot savaged the inner workings of the OmniMech until, finally, the reactor shielding was critically ruptured.

Fire bloomed on the battlefield - around the fusion engine and then from the cockpit as the mechwarrior ejected.

For a moment, Searcy thought that the mechwarrior had made it, but the seat spiralled wildly as it soared up - part of the cockpit canopy hadn't released correctly. The parachute failed to deploy and as he watched, it hit the ground at what had to be terminal velocity, the mechwarrior still strapped in.

If there was any mercy left to them, he hoped the loyalist had been killed or at least knocked out by the cockpit - because the brief flight with it's obvious and fatal ending - was nothing he would have wished on anyone.

Turning he saw Bannson finishing off the Archer with a kick that came entirely too close to the smaller 'Mech's cockpit. "Enough of that," Searcy ordered. "You know the orders. We're not like Katrina's fanatics."

"Sir." The other Mechwarrior was half-defiant, half-apologetic - clearly of two minds about those orders. But he obediently fell in behind Searcy as they joined the other Fifth Royal Guards streaming into the Triad's inner grounds.

Chapter 44
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Lyran Alliance
1 June 3064

The throne of the Lyran Commonwealth was as stark as Peter remembered from when his mother had sat there.

Now it was empty, though once again flanked by a pair of BattleMechs. In the absence of any Griffins - the model that traditionally filled the role - Peter had selected two of the least damaged Mackies of the Fifth Royal Guards to take up the positions. Catherine would probably chide him for the political message, but at least he'd realised that using 'Mechs built in the Suns would be a mistake.

Victor had clearly not yet grasped the issues inherent in his own uniform. While Peter wore what was recognisably the dress uniform of the Royal Guards, if with the tunic a darker green than was standard, his elder brother was still in the uniform of a AFFS Field Marshal.

They faced each other across the strip of carpet leading up the steps to the throne. Peter could feel the eyes of the mechwarriors in the Mechs, of the officers of both their forces who'd been able to join them. Someone had to make the first move...

Victor reached out and accepted the hand that Peter hadn't realised he'd extended. They shook and somewhere holo-cameras recorded the moment for posterity. "Well done, Peter. Thank you."

Peter felt abashed for a moment and jerked his chin towards the throne. "Aren't you going to sit down?"

"No." His brother looked around the room and then shook his head. "I've no intention of taking the throne again."

Catherine had warned him but somehow he'd assumed she was wrong about this one thing. More fool him. "I was rather under the impression that that was what all this -" he gestured to indicate the entire war "- was all about."

"Then you're mistaken." Victor gave him a tired smile. "Although I imagine many other people feel the same way. I did this to remove Katherine, because she'd proven herself to be a tyrant. If the last - mein gott, nine years now? - have shown me anything, it's that I'm not suited to rule."

Peter felt his temper fray. "If you don't..." He broke off. "I'm sorry," he told the officers. "Could you give my brother and I the room? I think we need to have a frank exchange of views."

The men and women stirred, some backing away and others looking to Victor. A tall blond man took a step towards Peter's brother. "I've heard that phrase used to describe a beating... your highness." He looked up at the two Mackies. "Are you sending them away too?"

Peter glanced up and couldn't help but snort. "Fair point."

"I'm not afraid of my brother, Jer... Galen."

What? Looking again, Peter subtracted the blond's beard - and more than half a decade of lines at the corner of his eye. "Galen... Cox?"

"It's a long story," Cox admitted.

"Katherine let Ryan try to kill him, it was safer for him to disappear," Victor said impatiently. "Why don't we step aside ourselves, Peter? Let our staffs get to know each other."

Peter rubbed his jaw and nodded in agreement. Then nodded again to Galen. "Not such a long story, I guess."

One of the antechambers had long served their mother, grandmother and other Archons before them as a place to withdraw for impromptu private discussions. Victor automatically went to one of the chairs and then paused, one hand on the back. "Old habits," he said out loud.

"I can think of a few you should break. One of them being running headlong into battle."

"If I'd known Katherine wouldn't get here by now, maybe I'd have decided otherwise."

Peter raised his hand. "Catherine is our sister on New Avalon. The other one calls herself Katrina."

"Katrina was our grandmother," Victor responded sharply.

Eyes narrowed, Peter decided there were more important things to worry about. Cat would want him to stay focused. "If you're not going to be Archon-Prince again, who will? I can't exactly tie you to the throne, but what alternatives are there?"

"I was thinking you and Yvonne."

"Neither of us has any experience of ruling," he shot back. "Except the few months Yvonne had before Kat-herine rolled her off the throne in your absence."

"My experience is mostly making mistakes," his brother told him. "I'm a soldier, not a statesman. The two of you can grow into the roles - and neither of you has the baggage I'd be bringing with me."

Peter raked his hair back from his face, remembering Morgan Hasek-Davion doing much the same with his similarly long hair on a few occasions when he had cause to remonstrate with his younger cousins. "When we're talking the two of us, do you mean dividing the realm?"

"It's already divided." Victor looked away. "And even after she took the throne on New Avalon, Katherine couldn't undo that. If she, a far more adept politician than I, couldn't repair that damage then what hope is there?"

"I refuse to believe that that witch is a good example of anything," Peter growled. "She wanted the FedCom divided so she could keep playing people off against each other. You have responsibilities, Victor."

"Yes, but grasping for power isn't one of them." He settled into one of the chairs, taking a moment to let the tension between them ebb. "If you feel the Federated Commonwealth can be salvaged, then take the throne yourself and try it. But I can't."

"This is about..." He paused before he said something that he knew would provoke a angry reaction. "I have nothing against Omi, but is she a factor in your thinking?"

To his surprise, Victor let the implicit accusation wash over him. "Yes, she is. When I left to fight the Smoke Jaguars I hoped that with victory we might... have a chance to be together. I was wrong... or at least, I was naive. I got what I hoped for but not as I envisaged it. And however angry I am with Katherine, at least she gave me a chance at that... unintentionally, of course."

Peter frowned. "You could..." Then he broke off as he realised he was speaking nonsense. With the fighting over the last year and the fragility of the Steiner-Davion's position over the civil war, there was no way that a marriage or even an public relationship would be accepted.

"Maybe I should just give the job to Cat," he said after a moment. "God knows, she seems to be doing alright as Vice-Regent."

Victor shook his head. "Even if there weren't questions about her identity, you know that that wouldn't work. I've had reports on her and she's... erratic. In the long run that may not be a bad thing, but if Katherine came back she could push her aside easily."

"She might try, but I think Cat would push back. And unlike her, Cat is a mechwarrior."

Victor shrugged. "Alright. But it's a rotten thing to do to someone who needs time to recover from what seems to have been quite an ordeal, even if we don't have details."

"Damn you, that's not fair."

"Politics isn't, get used to it."

Peter clenched his fists for a moment, then caught himself. What would Father Giles do? he wondered, thinking back to St Marinus House. "Alright," he said at last. "If the throne is one responsibility too far for you, then I guess I have to take it - but you don't get to run back to ComStar and leave us to pick up the pieces."

Victor shook his head. "You don't get it, Peter. As long as I'm here, my history would work against you. It'd be assumed you were just my proxy."

"That would be their mistake. And I don't mean to keep you here on Tharkad, anyway."

"I'm listening."

Pointing at Victor - more precisely at his uniform: "You're wearing a Field Marshal's uniform, aren't you? If commanding troops is all you think you're good for, I can use that. Maybe in the Terran Corridor - Marshal Lamont has secured three more worlds there and George Hasek's sending in the Vegan Rangers to help, but it's still a narrow link." He grinned. "I remember you wanting a command in that part of the FedCom back when you were at NAIS for your exchange year."

"Here's what you wanted, but not as you expected?" Victor arched an eyebrow. "That's the story of my life." He paused. "Let me think about it."

Peter nodded. "Of course. It would be easier for Omi to visit you if you're near the Combine anyway."

"I said I'd think about it. Don't push."

Peter raised his hands defensively. "Fine, fine."

"I do owe you, though. That warning about the assassin working in the gardens - you were right."

"Thank Cat, not me. What happened to him? He didn't get away again?"

Victor's smile was shark-like. "No, he didn't get away."

Chapter 45
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Lyran Alliance
12 June 3064

Nondi Steiner's funeral was excruciating.

Under the circumstances she could hardly have been given a state funeral and having refused to surrender at any of the opportunities offered, she'd also been denied a military one. (Peter had quietly limited that decision to senior officers - it would be an added burden for the families of the less well-paid and he drew the line at persecuting next-of-kin).

As her great-nephews, Victor and Peter nonetheless had to attend and sat beside each other on the front row, on the other side of the aisle from Nondi's daughter and other close relatives in reach. Robert Kelswa-Steiner had also turned up and was seated on that side of the aisle with his wife. One of Peter's less happy duties at some point in the near future would be to confirm the pair as Duke and Duchess of Skye: Margaret Aten had finally slipped away during the fighting on Tharkad.

Most of those recalling Nondi's life in the Triad's chapel diplomatically restricted themselves to her childhood and earlier military service, up to the War of 3039. Lisa Steiner, who had inherited the Duchy of Gallery from Nondi and opted to accept retirement rather than serve under Peter, was one of the exceptions and guardedly searched for positives in her mother's more recent loyalties.

It was almost a relief when Archer Christifori slipped into the chapel and discreetly joined the brothers on their pew. He passed a dispatch to Victor, who glanced at it and then handed it on to Peter, eyes suddenly distant.

Glad of something else to focus on than his second-cousin once-removed's understandable rose-coloured view of Nondi Steiner, Peter read the dispatch and had to keep himself from cursing out loud.

Cat had predicted this and it had been apparent from as far away as New Avalon for months, but General Sharon Bryan was still characterising it as a 'surprise attack'.

Clan Jade Falcon had hit six worlds so far, five in the General's theatre and one in the Arc Royal Defense cordon. The latter threat had to be honoured, even if it was blatantly gauged to pin in place both garrisons that were under Morgan Kell's influence and his son Phelan's Clan Wolf-in-Exile forces.

For her part Bryan was concentrating forces at her command world, confident that this would make it an irresistible target for the glory-hungry Falcons and also that they'd break their strength trying to get through her fortifications.

Loyal to Katrina as she had been, Bryan at least hadn't been an active combatant and as an Operation Serpent veteran, her experience against the Clans made removing her from one of the primary positions facing them a low priority. Looking at this, Peter wasn't sure that was right.

"Bryan?" he asked under his breath, looking back at the podium. Lisa was winding down, fortunately. Alas, Robert was next.

"Liability," Victor said tersely, similarly discreetly. "She got smashed on the offensive against the Jaguars, so now she's overreacting and focusing on defensive. Hopefully Adam Steiner will advise her better."

Well he almost beat you, so at least we know he's good, Peter thought. The commander of the Fourteenth Donegal Guards had been left with most of his forces and equipment rather than detained on the strength of Victor's unwillingness to weaken the forces facing the Jade Falcons. To his credit, Adam had been willing to focus on that threat since.

As Lisa finally stepped back, Peter rose to his feet and went past Victor and Archer to the aisle. Robert Kelswa-Steiner was halfway down the aisle but Peter gestured for him to step back and went to the podium himself.

"Under the circumstances, I believe Aunt Nondi would understand this slight deviation from the order of service," he said, looking at the scattering of faces. "We disagreed on several matters, but one thing I have never doubted was her devotion to defending the Lyran state from outside threats."

"One such threat has now moved from the possible, to the actual. As in 3050 and 3058, Clan Jade Falcon has struck at Lyran worlds and at the Lyran people." Peter turned to face the coffin, closed to hide the injuries caused by an unsuccessful ejection from her 'Mech as the Royal Guards had battled over the Triad. "Just as you twice let go of your wishes to retire in peace when your nation needed you, I must now say goodbye as I take up the cause of protecting the Commonwealth."

Leaving the podium behind him he headed for the exit, joined by Victor and the two brothers glanced pointedly at the handful of senior officers in attendance, signalling a minor exodus from the chapel. Behind them as they left, Robert pressed on to the podium, determined to have his say even if Peter was no longer there to listen.

They didn't have to go far to find somewhere to confer in privacy. Over six hundred years of piecemeal construction and reconstruction of the Triad, the default use for any part of the complex that didn't have a specified purpose was meeting room. The need for private conversations never went away, after all.

Victor cut to the chase. "We've got almost twenty combat commands on Tharkad, even if all of them are understrength. This is the obvious place to pull reinforcements from."

Taking the seat at the head of the table, Peter rubbed his jaw. "No argument from me. And we have the warships and jumpships to transport them. We need to start moving them offworld anyway." He looked at his brother. "We were talking about the Terran Corridor, but I think that this takes priority."

"I agree. This won't be like Operation Bulldog though. We don't have the reserves or the supplies in place. Two years of fighting have eaten through it."

Peter shrugged. "I know, I don't have unrealistic expectations of kicking the Falcons back out their OZ... not now, anyway. But if Khan Marthe Pryde wants a war to blood her warriors again, I want you to give her more war than they have stomach for - inflict casualties and equipment losses that her Clan can't afford. Can you do that?"

"It'll be expensive," Christifori warned. "No offense, Prince Peter, but you've never faced the Clans in battle."

"I know." And I can't go now either. Someone has to stay here and mind the store. "But it's a price we have to pay. Pryde calls herself a falcon but she's a scavenger, a vulture - striking at us because she thinks we're easy prey. If we show here that she's wrong, then it can buy us time to recover and maybe, just maybe, a few years down the line we can remove them as a problem once and for all."

Victor shook his head. "That's ambitious."

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp," Peter quoted from memory. "Else what is heaven for?"

"Fair enough." His brother glanced around the room. "I'd like to take the same task force I brought here, but the fact is, not everyone's ready for another campaign."

There had been a briefing the day before on the strengths of the units still on Tharkad. "Most of the regiments I brought are still in fighting form. General Christifori, I imagine that you'd like to stay with Victor but we also need to reinforce the Arc Royal Defense Cordon and I think you're the right man to lead the forces there."

"I can have my Avengers ready to go in three days," the Thorin native promised.

"We can do a bit better than that - I don't just want the attack on Koniz beaten off, from there I want you to hit the Jade Falcon OZ. Pryde might think she's pinning forces in place by hitting the Koniz PTM and Barber's Marauder IIs there, but if you and the Kells use it as a springboard to hit her worlds, it'll force her to commit forces against you."

Victor nodded. "That makes sense. I'd suggest sending the Seventeenth Donegal Guards as well. They were stationed in the area before they joined my forces."

"Agreed. We'll also give you the Third Regulars and..." Peter considered. "Precentor Irelon, I'd like your men to join this task force."

Raymond Irelon glanced at Victor first and then drew himself up. "We'd be honoured, sir."

"I know you gave up a lot to join my brother," Peter told him. "ComStar's disclaimed you and doesn't seem willing to move on that position, so I'd also like to offer you formal positions as part of the AFFC."

"We've considered that, sir. The Prince's Men accept."

"That's a good name, but there will also need to be a formal designation." Peter leant back in his chair. "We seem to have a vacancy in the roster for a Third Royal Guards RCT. How does that sound?"

There were intakes of breath. The Royal Guards were traditionally drawn from the very best of the Lyran armed forces, and while the First and Second garrisoned the capital, the Third Guards were the field force.

"That... sounds politically sensitive, sir."

"It is."

Irelon cracked a smile. "Well, as long as that's understood, your highness, then I accept the mission. Both the military one, and the political one."

Peter nodded. "Thank you. In a similar light, General Christifori, I'd like to designate your Avengers as the Third Skye Rangers RCT." Thorin was located within Skye Province, even if it had originally been a Terran Hegemony world.

The greying general nodded. "You want us to shame the other Skye Rangers?"

"Exactly. They withdrew from the Clan front to return to Skye. I can't formally reprimand them for that, since they didn't fight for Katrina, but in the long run I hope that you can return home and be a focus for loyal troops within Skye. I think you have the prestige for the job, and your troop's courage and honour are beyond question."

"I'm sure they'll be pleased to hear that. They may keep calling themselves Avengers though."

"I can live with that," Peter agreed.

"I take it that I should head for Melissia," Victor asked, naming Sharon Bryan's command world.

Peter gave him a crisp nod. "Correct. You have complete command of the front. General Christifori and Morgan Kell answer to you in Donegal Province and I'll place Adam Steiner directly under your command - can you work with him?"

"As long as he's willing to work with me, yes." His brother's voice betrayed some doubt on that point. "And Sharon Bryan?"

"If you can use her, keep her, but if you have to relieve her then go ahead and do it." This was no time for half-measures. "If she needs a soft landing, I can find some sort of sinecure here to make it look like a transfer rather than relief for cause."

"I doubt she'll take it well."

Peter glowered, "That would be her mistake to make, Victor. If you have to have Galen punch her, make sure he's stayed in shape."

"I really don't make a habit of punching superior officers," Galen protested mildly. "May I ask what troops you're going to send with us?"

"I'm sure the Tenth Lyran Guards would never forgive me for not letting them join Victor," quipped Peter. "Take them, the Third Lyran Guards, the Eleventh and Nineteenth Arcturan Guards..."

"Pairing Katrina's loyalists with sister regiments that joined us?"

"Correct," Peter agreed. "The Third Donegal Guards, the First Donegal Jaegers, the Federated Suns Armored Cavalry and your Outlands Legion should give you a fairly balanced force."

"I don't get any Royal Guards?" asked Victor wryly.

"No, I'm consolidating what's left of the original three RCTs into the Second and sending them to Caesar Steiner. With Robert playing games, I want some more muscle in Skye."

"That may backfire if Robert manages to subvert them," warned Galen.

"I know." Peter rubbed his jaw. "But they know they're on their last chance. Father once told me that giving someone very little when they really need it is always better rewarded than lavish generosity to those who aren't in need. Hopefully they'll take this second chance in that spirit. Besides, the Second Royal Guards are supposed to be the Pride of Skye but when did they last ever visit the province?"

"I suppose that that's fair," agreed Archer. "You're stomping pretty heavily on their traditions though."

"They can have their traditional roles back when they earn them." Peter decided not to mention that the tiny cadre left to the First Royal Guards would also be leaving Tharkad, although only to Donegal, one jump away. Rebuilding them gradually would fall to General Riskind, who would transfer to command them as an implicit reward for not bringing his Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards in on Nondi's side.

To Peter's surprise, his cousin Sabine had actually supported Riskind on that decision, so he'd approved her to inherit command of the Lyran Guards RCT. With a little luck, Sabine and their more distant cousin Reinhart might prove a loyal voice within House Steiner to counterbalance Lisa and Robert.

Chapter 46
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
1 September 3064

This was probably going to be the most expensive HPG conversation in history. Admittedly, the Star League Council had sometimes linked ten separate planets together for real-time conversations but the individual holo-fields being connected had been single individuals.

This call would link two large chambers together for at least six hours a day for what could easily be weeks. Almost a thousand people would be on the holo-cameras at any given time - the complete membership of the Federated Suns High Council and the reconstituted Estates General, together with various unelected officials and nobles down to the servers refreshing water jugs.

And then the entire data package would be edited down to a more manageable record and provided to public news outlets all across both realms, from which it was sure to be shared with foreign media and intelligence agencies.

Then again, after a harrowing budgetary meeting, Catherine had cut the legs out from under the accountants by pointing out that the cost of each day of calls wouldn't count as a rounding error compared to the costs of resuming what was now being officially called the Federated Commonwealth Civil War for the same length of time. Tancredi had to give her credit for that.

Screens had been set up such that what would normally be the front of each chamber would display the other upon large holoprojectors. Since this obscured what would usually be the speaker's stand, one edge of each semi-circle had been emptied of seats and replaced with a small podium. The edges between hologram and reality were cunningly concealed, although from his place in the guest gallery, it was possible to tell.

"I hope this goes well," Yvonne murmured from beside him. "Giving everyone a chance to speak is a huge gamble. There's still plenty of ill-feeling."

"I hope not everyone tries to speak." Tancred did the maths in his head. "Even if they only had five minutes each, that would take most of two weeks."

Yvonne nodded absently. From where they sat to the left of the Federated Suns 'side' of the podium, they were adjacent to the Draconis March seating. Attendees were seated by geographical so membership ran on through the Crucis and Capellan members, then across the divide to Tharkad where Alarion, Bolan, Coventry, Donegal and Skye representative sat, followed by the seats of Peter and other ministers of state.

Lights dimmed subtly, cueing the attendees to cut conversations short and Yvonne saw Peter move to the podium.

"As the Regent of the Federated Commonwealth and Archon-Designate of the Lyran Alliance, I hereby call this extraordinary session of the Estates-General and the High Council to order." He looked around the room for a moment. "Forty-two years ago, my father and my maternal grandmother met privately on Terra and negotiated what was at first a secret alliance between their nations."

"That agreement grew into a union that, less than a decade ago, was formalised into a single state that crossed the span of the Inner Sphere. By any measure, the Federated Commonwealth of 3055 was the most powerful single political unit since the Star League. I will not dwell on how we have come from there to where we are today. The purpose of this session and those to follow is to debate where we should go from here. While I will enforce a ban on irrelevancies and personal attacks, any other aspect of this matter is open to discussion. I am committed to full transparency, so that when a decision is made, not one of our worlds can say that their interests were not represented and not one voice could not be heard."

He lowered his head and then glanced to his left - across the divide. "The first remarks will be from my sister, Catherine."

"Do you know what she's going to say?" asked Tancred as Catherine took the other podium and Peter returned to his seat.

Yvonne nodded. "We drafted it together. We don't know how she'll handle the stress here so we agreed she'd make the opening remarks and I'd deal with any responses."

Her sister had chosen to wear navy-blue today, in a military cut but very plain compared to most of the representatives. She set notes in front of her, looked into the middle-distance and declared: "Friends, Romans, Countrymen."

Tancred glanced at Yvonne. "You agreed on that as an opening?"

Her face was pale. "No, I think she's lost herself again. God, of all the times."

There was an uneasy pause as the rest of those in both halves of the room were clearly wondering the same thing.

"Those words were put to paper fifteen centuries ago and placed into the mouth of a man some fifteen centuries before even that era," Catherine continued after the hesitation. "Now, while many of our traditions - including this gathering today, could be traced back to the Roman Republic, no one here is actually a Roman. We can leave that to the Marians." The jest got a few weak laughs.

"I would hope that there are friendships amongst us, even if in all too many cases I have yet to have a chance to establish such ties with you. Friendships, that may cross from here -" She indicated the High Council. "To here -" The Estates General. "And back again."

"But countrymen... now that is the question that we are here to discuss today. Are we, all of us, countrymen - bound together as one realm by the foresight of Katrina Steiner and Hanse Davion?"

Catherine leant forwards. "There are at root three potential answers to that - yes, no and... because we live in a non-binary universe, sort of."

"We can restore the union that was envisaged from the end of the Fourth Succession War, with a single heir born to be ruler of a single realm. Although in this case, my brother Victor has declined to serve further, so it will be a different Archon-Prince."

"We can disband it, our realms perhaps remaining allies but no more - in which case Peter, Yvonne and I will have to decide on our loyalties and one or both halves will require their own rulers."

"Or we can continue as... the self-proclaimed Archon-Princess had it: two realms but one ruler. A personal union of the crowns. I cannot say that I entirely approve of this, but it is an option. Whether it is the best of both or worst of both would depend on a great many details."

Tancred frowned. "Did you notice she didn't specify that without Victor, it would be Peter ruling."

Yvonne nodded thoughtfully. "Closer to our script except for that. I hope she isn't trying to leave the door open for herself to supplant him. That would be disasterous."

Taking hold of the podium with one hand, Catherine smoothly gathered her notes with the other. "I have one further point, an announcement that I've been allowed to make today. Evidence that we are stronger together than we are apart."

"Three days ago, General Adam Steiner's task force - the combined Fourteenth Donegal Guards and First Federated Suns Armored Cavalry - scored a victory against Clan Jade Falcon upon Twycross."

There was a buzz of excitement. "For a second time, we have reclaimed the world from Clan Jade Falcon - and for the second time, we have destroyed the Falcon Guards cluster to do so." She tapped her notes together, tidily. "There are other worlds once part of the Federated Commonwealth that have been invaded over the last fourteen years. Twycross is not the first to be brought back into our company - and I see no reason it should be the last."

The applause lasted well past Horatio DuVall taking the podium, across from Tharkad's elected representative on the Estates-General, and both men had to wait before they could begin their joint presentation of how they proposed a reunited Federated Commonwealth could build upon the lessons of the previous decades.

Chapter 47
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Lyran Alliance
31 October 3064

For the third time in six years, Tharkad was playing host to representatives of every major state - and most of the minor ones - in the Inner Sphere. Only a few were formal members of the Star League but observers had been invited and thus dignitaries had been arriving for days, almost all of them needing to have some sort of meeting with the host of the Third Whitting Conference.

Some of those greetings had gone better than others.. Sun-Tzu's had been cursory, Christian Mansdottir's had over-run by more than an hour as Peter had discussed both the military security of the tiny remnant of the Free Rasalhague Republic and the political implications of one of the attendees.

At least, Peter thought as a pair of glossy black ground cars arrived at the formal entrance, I can deal with these two as a single matter.

The military escorts peeled away as the limousines came to rest outside the Royal Palace. The door of the leading car opened fractionally ahead of the others' but the first out was Thomas Marik, who had diplomatically agreed his car would follow the sitting First Lord's in the cavalcade escorting the two House Lords from the dropport to the Triad.

The scar-faced man in FWLM uniform paused and allowed Theodore Kurita to exit the first ground-car, an act of respect he then had to prolong as the Coordinator gravely assisted both of his companions in exiting the vehicle. The rituals of court would probably have never allowed such doting on Luthien, but here on Tharkad it would play well, Peter thought.

Omiko Kurita looked a little older than she had on Solaris VII, all those years ago, but no less beautiful. And the child with her... If Peter hadn't been forewarned then he might have been caught off-guard by the Steiner-blue eyes looking out from the face of someone who so closely resembled a younger Hohiro Kurita.

"Peter," the Coordinator's daughter greeted him with a formal bow. "I have looked forward to seeing you once more."

"Indeed. I hope to have time for an introduction I promised you," he replied and then looked down at the child. "And perhaps I can then ask one of your young companion?"

The boy clutched at Omiko's kimono and buried his face against it. He was perhaps three years old, Peter thought.

"Of course." She gave him a radiant smile. "Is your brother well?"

"Our last news was yes," Peter assured her. "Fighting on Mogyorod has delayed him, but he should arrive before the conference concludes." Turning to Omiko's father, he bowed slightly. "First Lord."

Theodore's face was apparently serene but Peter suspected he was also disappointed that Victor wasn't here to smooth matters between their two Houses. The eldest Steiner-Davion had been a guest on Luthien for months, whereas Peter was at least notionally responsible for Catherine's sharp bargaining over the conclusion of James Sandoval's invasion of the Combine.

"Archon-Prince," the head of House Kurita greeted him. "Your newschannels were full of your joint council's deliberations as we made our way to the surface. Will you be continuing that experiment?"

"A question I have also been wondering," added Thomas Marik. "I have always thought your father to hold our Parliament in contempt but you seem to feel differently."

"Some sort of representative body seems reasonable, although a lot of details remain to be worked out." Peter gave the Captain-General an amused look. "How is your own Parliament treating you, Lord... Marik? I understand that Prince Kirc Cameron-Jones has been quite vocal in questioning your right to the name."

Thomas' eyes narrowed. "The Regulans have always been... difficult."

"Ah. Well there's no question of your competence. A booming economy and two victorious wars are a record any leader should be proud of."

The Marik accepted the compliment gracefully enough, although Theodore seemed less pleased. He'd managed to more or less come out on top against the Ghost Bears, but the personal cost of the victory had been as heavy as the political cost of ceding Marduk in order to make peace with the Sandovals.

"Anyway, we were speaking of introductions," Peter offered, ushering the two of them up the steps into the Palace. "There's someone you should meet before the Conference begins."

"My daughter?" asked Thomas.

Peter gave him a bland look. The Captain-General wasn't Isis Marik's real father and by now everyone important in the Inner Sphere knew that. Isis was on Tharkad, Peter had loaned her Resaurius Keep (his own preferred residence) for the duration of the conference since he would have to remain in the Triad;but she had expressed no interest in meeting the man who had taken on the identity of her true father. "This is a political matter, I wouldn't wish it thought that I was springing an ambush on you."

"If I may be excused from that meeting?" Omiko murmured.

"Of course. I believe Lady Isis Marik has expressed a wish to see you when you're settled," Peter assured her. "In the meantime, my other guest is through here." He gestured towards some double doors and the two guards waiting there opened them sharply.

Both men recognised Christian Mansdottir immediately, of course. It was the Ghost Bear officer standing with them who came as a shock. Unless you counted Phelan Kell, no Clanner had ever attended the Star League Council before.

"You will know the Regent of the Free Rasalhague Republic, of course." Peter nodded to the general first. "But it must be some years since the two of you met the Elected Prince on Outreach."

Ragnar Magnusson - or simply Star Colonel Ragnar, as the Clans would have it - drew himself up. "First Lord Kurita, Captain General," he greeted them.

Peter had hoped for more of a reaction from the two older rulers but both men took the introduction in stride - possibly they were less surprised than Peter had hoped. It would be naive to think that they had no spies. "I'll let you get re-acquainted," he told them and took Omi's arm, guiding her away from the meeting.

The boy on the other side gave him a defensive look, which Omi noticed. "It's alright, Kitsune," she assured him. "Lord Peter met many years ago and he isn't taking liberties."

That still didn't seem much reassurance to the boy and Peter wondered how - or if - he might win his nephew over. He hadn't been around children much since he was one himself. "Kitsune... is that a common name in the Combine? I don't think I've come across it before."

"Not so very common," she said with a slight smile. "It means fox, in Japanese."

Peter couldn't help but smile at that. "Does it really?" His father, Hanse, had been nicknamed 'The Fox' by his enemies - a reference to his wiliness, his red hair and to the personal heraldry of House Davion.

Kitsune asked his mother a question in japanese and she paused, letting go of Peter to pick him up. "In german, Kit', we're on Tharkad now."

"What does his name mean?" the boy asked.

Omi paused, apparently not sure.

"Rock," Peter mumured under his breath as they reached the entrance to the apartments reserved for House Kurita's visit.

She repeated the definition for Kitsune, who was apparently satisfied and toddled into the apartments to explore his new residence.

"I wasn't sure," she admitted. "It's an old christian name, isn't it?"

Peter nodded. "Christ's first follower was called Simon, but the messiah named him Peter; the rock on which he built his church."

"Ah." Omi tilted her head. "I believe you have grown into the name then."

"How so?"

"You were not easily moved from Zaniah," she told him. "But when you were set into motion, you... what is the saying? "A rolling stone gathers no moss."

Peter nodded. He supposed it was true. Not even two years now since Catherine had been found in the desert and that meeting had hurled him across space from one side of the Federated Commonwealth to another. "I think I'm back at rest now."

"Yes, your enemies have for the most part been crushed beneath you." Omi nodded. "Not easily moved," she repeated. "But when you do move, it is with great force and power. These are good traits in a ruler, Peter."

"I've learned something of restraint, I hope," he agreed, thinking back to his younger days. "I should let you get settled in though."

He felt a rueful smile cross his face as he left that wing and headed back towards the core of the Tharkad. When he was younger he'd coveted the throne, but today - as so often - he walked directly past the throneroom and made directly for the office where his grandmother's old wooden desk - hand-crafted for her by his grandfather and the Kells - had been restored to its proper place.

"I just hope this stone doesn't wind up buried beneath the paperwork," he mused as he checked his in-tray. More folders and data-chips had arrived in his absence, sorted by the sizeable secretarial staff.

One chip had the code for Catherine and he plugged it into the computer on the desk. It wasn't a personal message, instead an update on negotiations with the Marquess of Filtvelt. Trempeleau's support for the Federated Commonwealth had come at a price for increased support of the Outback worlds along the Periphery border.

Catherine drew his attention to the reports on the status of Victory Industries, on Marduk. The 'Mechworks had been retooled to construct OmniMechs for the DCMS but it still had much of the older equipment not needed for them. She recommended subsidising the creation of a new factory for the company, located in the Outback where it could supply Griffins and Wolverines to units along the border.

The plan seemed solid, if expensive, but it could be worked into the reconstruction budget. I wonder what tooling our other manufacturers have lying idle, Peter wondered and scribbled a note to find out. It would still be simpler than expanding production of newer machines and it would take years to make good the losses the Civil War had inflicted.

I'll gather no moss while my sisters are around me to keep me moving, he thought lightly and moved on to the next bit of business.

Takiro · « **Reply #20 on:** June 17, 2019, 07:15:21 PM »

So many good fanfics I have to catch up on, good to see you are still moving along drak!

drakensis · « **Reply #21 on:** July 15, 2019, 06:49:54 AM »

State of the Union II
Fledglings Take Flight

Part One - Tharkad

I can't find the rhyme in all my reason
I've lost sense of time and all seasons
Feel I've been beaten down
By the words of men who have no grounds

Peter Ardan Steiner-Davion held the coffee mug under his nose and inhaled the rich scent of the steaming contents. He remembered how much he’d needed the brew to get through studying for his exams back at NAIS. If only he’d known back then what it was to be really busy. He’d had no idea.

Well, such was life. You grew up or… Well, or you had a grave somewhere. Ugh, he was getting downright maudlin. A mouthful of coffee washed that away just in time as a knock on the door signalled the arrival of his next meeting.

The Captain-General of the Free Worlds League was wearing the dress uniform of the FWLM even for this theoretically informal meeting. But then, there was only so much that one could unbend when the meeting involved two heads of state. The scar-faced man hid a startled expression as he saw that Peter was wearing a long, hooded robe - if one of far richer materials than Peter had worn during his long self-imposed exile.

“I wouldn’t have thought that desert robes were suited to this climate,” Thomas Marik murmured as he accepted the offer of a mug of his own from a servant, who then discreetly withdrew. The older man - he was easily twice the Archon-Prince’s age - added a drop of cream to his coffee before setting the small tray aside and joining Peter in the window bay of the meeting room, looking out at the sleet-swept garden outside.

Peter smiled tightly and sat down again on the cushioned bench that filled the bay. “While the popular image of deserts is one of heat, they can get very cold at night. These are well-insulated against this climate.” Tharkad was a cold world compared to most planets colonised by humanity, with glaciers covering more than half of the continent of Bremen despite it lying well south of the polar regions.

“If you were wanting to harken back to my ComStar days they’re the wrong colour.”

“I’m just being self-indulgent,” Peter assured him - the robes were royal blue and the cut was also significantly different from those of ComStar and the Word of Blake. “Where would you like to begin.”

Thomas took a sip from his coffee. “I’d like to see my daughter.”

“I was under the impression that Jessica was on Atreus, with the rest of your family,” Peter told him drily. “If ComStar are giving you grief on contacting them I’ll do what I can…”

“You know I mean Isis.”

“And you know that I know that you’re no blood relative to her - or at least so distant that it’s not worth mentioning.”

Thomas’ eyes narrowed, the scars around his right one leaving the expression disconcertingly asymmetric. “Are you threatening me?”

“If I was threatening you, Captain-General, you wouldn’t be left in any doubt of the matter.” Peter raised his mug to his lips, sipped and lowered it. “But let’s cut the crap. The fact is that you’re not the… original, shall we say? Not the original Thomas Marik. And that fact has already slipped out to too many people in the Free Worlds League. You’d have to be an idiot not to realise that it’s going to hit the public sooner or later, which means it has laughably little value as blackmail.”

He put the mug down entirely. “You’ve been a very effective Captain-General and except for the understandable issues after your son died, you’ve been someone we can do business with since the Clan Invasion. But let’s call a spade a spade.”

The older man eyed him steadily and then drank from his own mug, using the gesture to break eye contact. “Very well. I wish to speak with Isis Marik.”

“She’s at Resaurius Keep. As far as I can tell, you can just go over there and speak to her anytime you want.” He couldn’t, but Peter wanted to see what Thomas said.

“I tried. I was denied entrance.”

“I’ve given no such orders,” he told Thomas honestly. “The security answers directly to Isis - my brother assigned them to her.” Victor had an absolute gift for befriending female members of the other great houses. If he hit it off with Kali Liao then he’d have a full set. Peter hid a shiver at the very thought. The Chancellor’s sister was a dangerous lunatic - even her brother admitted it.

“Can you not overrule him? I understood that you rule, not that you were his proxy.”

Oh so he wanted to play that game? Peter rubbed his jaw. “Of course, but if I compromise the security of one guest, how would my other guests -” Such as Thomas himself, or the other members of the Star League Council “- feel about their own safety?”

“Then arrange something,” the Captain-General grated, anger seeping into his voice. “You’re an inventive young man.”

Peter’s temper flared and for a moment he was on the edge of snapping back. Instead, with difficulty he kept his face and voice steady, cramming the anger down inside him where he could deal with it later. “Is that really the position you want to take, Captain-General?”

The so-called Marik paused and his next words were more conciliatory. “I intended that as a compliment, Lord Steiner-Davion. But perhaps that was not how it came across. There is another matter we should discuss.”

“Yes. Arcadia.”

Thomas made a dismissive gesture. “My forces will withdraw, of course. We had no intention of claiming the world, merely extracting my… Kristen’s Krushers. I’m sure you would have done the same.”

“I would. And so, it would appear, would Therese Marik and her husband.” Peter took satisfaction at the colour rising on the other man’s unscarred cheek at the confirmation that Lyran intelligence was aware that the Sixth Marik Militia hadn’t crossed the border on the Captain-General’s orders.

Kristen Marik’s death - along with her husband and two of their three children - had done nothing to ease tensions between the two realms. Contracted to defend Coventry, the Krushers had served Katrina loyally and helped put down the pro-Victor provincial militia only to have the Coventry Jaegers betray them and attempt to massacre the mercenary regiment.

Escaping and crossing almost the entire Lyran Alliance - along with a daring raid on Gallery - the Krushers had finally been run to ground on the border world of Arcadia, from which the Captain-General had refused to rescue them. Kristen’s brother-in-law Jeremy Brett-Marik had soured his career a second time by leading a mission to rescue the survivors, too late to save his in-laws. Popular media had seized on it and a major holovid was being shepherded through production despite official attempts to quash it. The result would undoubtedly make Archon and Captain-General out as villains… but the public splash was nothing compared to the impact on Kristen’s surviving daughter Alys, who’d moved firmly into the orbit of her Aunt Therese and the ‘loyal opposition’ within House Marik itself.

“The MRBC have ruled in favour of the Krushers, of course,” Peter added after a moment. “I’ve instructed our lawyers not to contest the ruling. Duchess Alys may expect the bodies of the dead personnel along with the financial and material compensation to cross the border before the end of the year. I hope there will be no barriers to their delivery.”

“I’ll ensure there are no issues.”

“Good.” Peter leant back, feeling the cold glass of the window even through his thick hair, although the hood cushioned his neck. “The Coventry Jaegers have been struck from the rolls. Little satisfaction for her, I suppose.”

“I would think not. The Federated Commonwealth has not been a safe place for House Marik over the last few years.”

“Joshua’s leukaemia long predated his time at NAIS,” Peter reminded him. “And Kristen’s command was unfortunately far from the only one betrayed by the former Archon. Rhonda Snord springs to mind.”

“Unlike Janos Marik, I have no grudge against that unit,” Thomas riposted mildly. “I assure you, my only interest in Isis is to assure her that she can return safely to her home. The falling out with Sun-Tzu was clearly his fault and not hers, whatever he may claim.”

“And yet you supported the relationship.”

“Besides the political benefits of their engagement, she seemed genuinely enamoured of him.” The Captain-General spread his hands. “I do care for the girl in my own way.”

“I will pass on the invitation to speak with her.” Peter cupped his hands around the mug for its last heat and then drained it. “The choice is hers though. She’s under the protection of my House so long as she remains here. If she feels safer with us than with you, then any problems that causes for your image are not my concern.”

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be worried.”

“Oh, I am worried. I’ve just been through one civil war. Another, even across the border, isn’t something I look on favourably. But interfering in the League’s politics wouldn’t do me any favours.”

Thomas considered. “There is one thing that you could do.”

“My position on Isis is final.”

“That is understood, Lord Steiner-Davion, but you do have a vote in Star League matters.”

“And you want…?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious I’ll be elected as First Lord for the next three years.” Thomas’ face creased in a smile. “Meaning no offense, you’re still something of an unknown quantity while House Liao and House Kurita have had their chance and in the rotational nature of the office, the other great houses must hold it before they can be re-elected to it.”

“It would be difficult for me to secure a majority vote,” agreed Peter drily.

“Three years from now would likely be a very different matter, but even my vote wouldn’t be enough to elect you as things stand.” Thomas put his own mug aside. “The prestige of that may help to win over some of the more fractious elements in my parliament. If that election was unanimous, it might help to heal some of the tensions that have plagued the Star League through the last three years.”

“And of course it would look even better for you at home.”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll give that some thought,” Peter said diplomatically, although key points were already obvious: both Victor and Katrina had voted in traditional rivals of the Federated Commonwealth to the First Lordship. Doing the same and expecting it to play better in the Lyran provinces along the League border than his siblings had found in the other border marches would be madness. Being outvoted would be a small thing in comparison.

Chapter 2
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
5 November 3064

Isis Marik had chosen not to meet her father’s doppelganger at Resaurius Keep - she preferred to keep the retreat as a private refuge and inviting him there would have unsettled her sense of security within it’s faux-medieval walls.

There was also the question of privacy. Their conversation might well touch on private matters so she preferred they not be overheard, but having some visibility could act as a restraint upon the Captain-General. The observation gallery for the Estates General served for this - floor to ceiling windows looking out over the debating chamber gave visibility in both directions but the long gallery could be divided into several rooms by soundproof barriers. Since Peter Steiner-Davion had pushed - however mildly - for the meeting to take place, Isis felt no guilt in putting him out by requiring one such room set up for her.

Although she had arrived early, she found the room already occupied - her so-called father was sitting on one of the couches, the lights dimmed slightly to make it harder for those in the debating chamber or the other parts of the gallery to see details of them within.

So he’d taken her preparations and turned them to give himself a home ground advantage. Nonetheless Isis knew where the light dimmer was and was able to announce her presence by bringing them up sharply, crossing her arms as Thomas ‘Marik’ blinked at the sudden increase in light levels. “You pushed for this meeting, Captain-General, what is it that you want?”

“Isis, I want you to come home.”

“Home?” She looked at him in surprise. “For ten years that was Sian, but I’m no longer welcome there. We both know I was never really welcome on Atreus, you only kept me around because until Joshua was born and after leukaemia was diagnosed you needed an alternative heir on hand. So where is home?”

Thomas shook his head. “Within the Free Worlds League, with your cousins. If Atreus doesn’t suit you, Isis, we have many holdings. Your exile is self-imposed - no one blames you for Sun-Tzu renouncing your engagement to him.”

“How strange, because I rather got the impression that you blamed me.” Isis forced a smile that was deeply ironic. “The man who arranged the engagement but never permitted a marriage, who made an alliance but withdrew from military operations when your goals were met when your ally’s objectives hadn’t been… found it easier to blame me than accept that he’d used me as an expendable hostage.”

“You were never a hostage,” he protested.

“Sun-Tzu saw it more clearly than I did. And however angry I am at him, I saw better than you how your actions were viewed on Sian. But that was never a consideration. Did you even read my letters?”

“Of course.”

“Then you knew full well that his patience was expiring. I can at least claim inexperience in realising what that would mean for me personally.” She walked over to the window and looked down at the Estates General - they were debating with their High Council peers something about currency reform. “You’ve led the Free Worlds League for almost thirty years, you have no such excuse.”

“And I’ve been your father for slightly longer than that. Perhaps… no, certainly with less success.” Thomas walked to join her.

“My father? Is my real father even alive?” she asked. “I doubt I’ve ever even met him.”

The Captain-General hesitated. “Yes. He is still alive. The bomb that killed your grandfather required extensive reconstruction - enough that he would be politically unacceptable as Captain-General.”

“You mean he’s a cyborg. Somewhere within the Word of Blake’s ranks, I would assume.”

“A respected voice within the Toyamist wing of their leadership.”

Isis glanced sideways at the irony in the white-haired Captain-General’s voice. “Not one that I have ever heard.”

“I suppose not. Your uncle Paul remains in close contact with him - he’s been a conduit over the years.”

“Puppet and puppetmaster?”

The Captain-General shook his head. “Proxy. But over a quarter of a century we have had some… disagreements.”

“Since you’re close to William Blane, who is hardly a Toyamist, I would say so.” She let her smile fall off her face. “You said Paul was close to him… and Corinne?”

“I don’t know if she’s been taken into his confidence that far.”

“But she knows that you aren’t who you claim to be.”

“I am who I have been for a generation. One of the better leaders the Free Worlds League has ever had. Does my exact parentage really matter?”

“You’re asking a bastard that?” Reaching forwards, Isis touched the glass separating her from the politics of the Federated Commonwealth. “Do you really think I have anything to go back to in the Free Worlds League. At best I’d just be another minor Marik, dependent on better heeled relatives for my daily bread. No different from being a perpetual guest here, really.”

“Setting aside my own legitimacy… you’re the grand-daughter of a Captain-General. Lands and titles are yours for the asking.”

Isis paused. How desperate must he be for her presence in the League to say something like that, even if only she could hear that? “And if I asked?”

It was his turn to hesitate and she felt his gaze on her, measuring if it was greed or ambition that motivated the question - or rather, how much of each. In that evaluation she understood as she hadn’t before how Victor had come to despise politics for the shadows cast by the supposedly high ideals of those who practised it.

“The dukedom of Irian has been vacant since the execution of Garth Marik in 3028,” Thomas told her, in the tone of a man dangling bait before a hungry fish.

She laughed. How could she not? And as he drew back, affronted, Isis half turned away from the glass and towards him. “Why do you need me so much, ‘father’? Do you want me to be your mouthpiece, someone to counter Corinne and Alys within House Marik?”

“No one who knows our history would think you would be in my camp,” Thomas admitted. “And I wouldn’t expect you to be partisan on my behalf, but for that reason where you can find it in yourself to speak on my behalf you would be all the more convincing.”

“And you imagine that I would?”

“All I ask is your honesty. I have been a good Captain-General and the alternatives are…” He made a dismissive gesture…

“Who are they?”

“Support is rallying around Corinne.” Thomas made a face. “My replacement as proxy for your biological father, whether she knows it or not.”

“And thus the Word of Blake would rule through her?”

“You understand then.”

“Who else?” asked Isis. “I’ve followed the politics of the League where I can, but at a distance and with the priority of Victor’s headquarters as the war against Katrina…”

He nodded. “Therese is promoting her son, Photon. He has the martial reputation to be a serious contender but Therese is no friend to Paul. If one side or another took the throne then the other would fight them for it.”

“So you say.” Isis had to concede the point though. Photon was twenty years her elder and had spent almost that long under a false name, rising to Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second Free Worlds Guards on his own merits not the Marik name. Isis had still been at court in 3050 when Thomas awarded him the Order of the Saber in his own name for valour. He was in his prime, a tested and proven leader constrained only by the geographical and political distance between his mother’s stronghold on Tamarind and the capital on Atreus. In contrast Corinne was younger and less tested, but far better connected as the daughter of the League’s Minister of Intelligence.

“Besides that, Kirc Cameron-Jones is whispering that since House Marik has placed a non-Marik on the throne that we… that they’ve forfeited their right to first refusal. As such, as head of one of the original provinces he claims that he’s a right to the throne.”

Isis rolled her eyes. “I take it that Duke Halas differs from that.” Thomas’ second wife Sherryl was the Duke’s daughter. He also ruled Oriente, one of the three great provinces whose alliance centuries before had founded the Free Worlds League.

“Christopher isn’t just my father-in-law and a friend. We share the same views of the League’s future.”

“And those would be? I can speak for your record, mixed as it is, but I can’t say you’ve ever confided in me politically.”

Thomas gestured back towards the seats and Isis returned, realising to her chagrin that she’d steered the conversation back into safe waters for him. Political discussions were meat and drink to the Captain-General - as natural as breathing.

“The last time the Steiners and Davions united kicked off the most ferocious war in a century,” he warned her. “And that was with far more constrained resources and military capability than we’ve built since. A new Succession War could tear down all the progress we’ve made in our lifetime.”

“So you support the Star League?”

“Exactly.” Thomas gave her a half-clap. “A military response could be cataclysmic, but the Star League can serve as a balancing effect against potential dominance of the Federated Commonwealth, since they have only a single voice there, outnumbered by the other members.”

“A constraint that may start to chafe,” warned Isis.

“Indeed, just as their economic and military might threatens the rest of us. So it must be handled delicately.” The Captain-General leant forwards. “The Free Worlds League can hold a crucial centre-ground - our only major conflict with the Commonwealth was Operation Gurerro, and even their own media concur that we had ample justification there.”

“Since Victor Steiner-Davion defeated the Clans on their homeworld, the outside threat of a renewed Clan Invasion no longer holds the Star League together, and internal pressures are building. We’re uniquely placed to step forwards as leaders in a new balance of power - which in turn means we can use our relative security and prosperity to expand economically and provide for our people.” He shook his head. “Kirc’s views have rarely reached past the borders of the League while Corinne’s backers are more concerned with advancing the Word’s most extremist agendas than with our own future.”

Isis considered. “You want us to hold the balance of power between the Federated Commonwealth and their enemies?” she asked doubtfully.

“Precisely.” He nodded like an approving school teacher. “With proper guidance the Star League can guarantee stability for the Inner Sphere for generations to come.”

Chapter 3
Mount Asgard, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
6 November 3064

“You’re sure about resigning?” Peter asked bluntly. “There’s a place for you with the First Royal Tharkad Battle Armor Regiment if you want it.”

The young man - well, not that young, according to the file on Peter’s desk he was only a year and a half younger than Peter himself - shook his head firmly. “No sir. My father always told me the regiment was his home and it wasn’t until I’d left the Legion that I realised how right he was.”

Peter gave Alexander Carlyle a long look and rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I can hardly argue against going home once you have some perspective,” he conceded. The son of the legendary Grayson Death Carlyle had missed the consolidation of most of the Royal Guards survivors into the Second Royals due to injuries suffered in the defense of the Triad. One of those injuries had been damage to one ear that left him unable to pilot a BattleMech - one problem that even Star League medical science had never quite overcome.

His only reply was a nod and Peter hid a sigh. Rebuilding the Lyran armed forces was proving a struggle when soldiers like this - promising junior officers who could have been the future leaders of the entire force - felt they couldn’t continue to serve. “Would you rather muster out on Glengarry or on Hesperus II where the Legion are based right now?”

Carlyle blinked. “I was expecting here, sir.”

“You can if you prefer, but I assumed you’d want to take your ‘Mech with you - the Legion will probably want it back -” Even in its damaged state, the Archer was a valuable asset. “- and the least we can do is get you home on the military’s dime.”

“Uh… Hesperus II, sir. Colonel Carlyle has offered me a battle armor company with the Legion so I should report for active service.”

Peter nodded and made a notation. “You can expect shipping orders by tonight,” he promised. “But it may be a few days before there’s a dropship headed the right way.” Standing, he leaned over his desk to offer the soon to be former Hauptmann his hand. “Perhaps we’ll cross paths again someday.”

“Thank you, sir.” Carlyle accepted the hand and when it was released he offered a razor-sharp salute. “For what’s worth, I’m honoured you offered to keep me on.”

The young officer left and Peter slumped back into his chair. As titular commanding officer of the Fifth Royal Guards - and as Archon Prince he was in theory commander of the entire Royal Guard brigade - he’d also taken on responsibility for those Royal Guards not shipped out to Donegal or Skye. These meetings had been a fine excuse to escape the five-ring circus of the Star League Council’s more ceremonial activities for a day but they were just as wearing in their way.

“What’s next?” he muttered and checked his schedule, brightening as he reached the entry. Thumbing his intercom he demanded: “Is Field Marshal Steiner-Davion here?”

“Yes sir.”

“Send him in.”

A moment later the door admitted his elder brother, looking disgustingly healthy and well-rested. “Your highness.”

Peter gave him a mock glare. “It could have been you behind this desk, you know.”

“And I’ve never been more sure I made the right choice. Being the Archon-Prince suits you, Peter.”

“And being a father seems good for you.”

“You’ve got no idea.” Victor took the seat facing Peter without waiting for an invitation, a welcome change from some of the stiff formality he’d had so far this morning. “Knowing that Kit’s here, a part of myself and Omi that’ll live on even if something happens to us… it changes everything.”

“Maybe you have to be there.” Peter leant back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands. “God, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”

“The secret is delegation,” Victor told him. “Even father couldn’t do everything himself and he did more than most First Princes. He handed off work to Ardan, Morgan, Justin… if you find the right people then it’s a bearable load.”

“You know what all those people have in common?”

That took the wind out of Victor’s sails. “Yes. They’re all dead.”

“And Quintus Allard isn’t getting any younger. Dragging him out of retirement wasn’t really fair - fortunately Quint Jr. is coming along well. A real chip off the old block.”

“The only man I found I could trust like that was Galen.”

Peter nodded. “And he’s going back to the SLDF, I gather.”

Victor shrugged. “I can’t but he feels he can do more good there than he can here.” Unspoken was that Galen Cox could never really go home - he’d been born on Tamar, now the capital of Clan Wolf’s Occupation Zone.

“At least I have you, Cat and Yvonne. It’s a start.”

“Yes… About Cat.” Victor steepled his fingers. “I never did ask you what was going on with her… visions did you call them?”

“I didn’t call them that.” Peter rubbed his chin. “Honestly, I don’t know. Nor does she - but some of her predictions have been pretty accurate.”

“Such as?”

“She knew about the New Dallas cache,” he said promptly. “About the assassin posing as a gardener on Luthien. And she knew Katrina would try to purge the First Davion Guards months before the order was actually given.”

“I’d like to say that I don’t believe in predestination,” his older brother said thoughtfully. “I’ll grant you that there are more things in heaven and earth… but even so.”

“Yeah. Mind you, whatever she saw is mutable. Or at least can be changed. Her prediction was that the Civil War would last more than five years and we were able to change that.”

Victor shuddered. “Five years. That would have been bad. If nothing else it would have been much harder to fight off the Jade Falcons.”

“Speaking of which, we’re supposed to be discussing that.”

“I know, but I’m curious.” There was a note of reluctant fascination in Victor’s voice. “What does she foresee now?”

“Nothing new,” Peter told him. “The… visions were mixed in with the tangle of memories she’s still getting to grips with but from what she says, she’s not having dreams of events stemming from what we’re actually dealing with. So hopefully we’ve changed enough that we won’t see the other things she predicted.”

“We should probably at least check into them,” Victor said cautiously. “Are they being documented?”

“Discreetly, yes. I’d rather it not get out that my Regent on New Avalon was advising me based on prophetic dreams. Officially she’s just very astute, despite her other issues.”

Victor grimaced. “Fair enough. I’d like to see what she predicted anyway.”

“I’d expected more scepticism.”

“Saving Omi gets her a lot of credit,” the blond brother said drily. “And I have firsthand experience of near-death visions… on Luthien when I got run through. I can’t entirely rule out she may have seen something while she was in the desert on Zaniah.” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with exploring the matter further. “But yes, the Falcons.”

“Yes.” Peter paused. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Victor shrugged self-deprecating. “The Falcons are hard fighters but at least it’s more clear-cut than the other battles we’ve faced lately.”

Peter brought up the holo-display to show the border with the Jade Falcons. “It looks on face value as if we gave about as good as we got.”

“I think that’s a fair assessment,” agreed Victor. He reached up and pointed at two of the worlds that had been lost. “Both Khans were fighting here - Marthe Pryde on Kooken’s Pleasure Pit and Samantha Clees on Kikuyu. They tried using them as staging grounds for further attacks but Adam’s counter-attacks caused enough confusion that they didn’t get far before my task force arrived and we were able to contain further attacks.”

“They didn’t expect Adam to move aggressively.” Peter pointed at Blackjack and Twycross, a narrow salient driven into the Falcons’ Occupation Zone like a nail. There were less courteous comparisons given the smaller attacks on either flank that had won Parakoila and Bone-Norman back for the Federated Commonwealth. “I can see why taking these worlds would cause them issues - Twycross is a respectable industrial node and I gather the Falcons had been using the old Blackjack Academy to train their own warriors. What surprises me is that they didn’t try harder to take them back.”

“Even after all these years the Clans tend to undervalue logistics and command structures.” Victor’s finger stabbed at Mogyorod. “I think Marthe delegated a lot of the fighting at this end of the border to her saKhan and when Clees died on Mogyorod, coordination between Delta and Gamma Galaxies fell apart. There are unconfirmed reports that half of Delta Galaxy was disbanded and that the rest of their units have been sent to Rho and Omega Galaxies to help rebuild them.”

“Not to Gamma? They lost the Falcon Guards when Adam’s task force hit them on Twycross.”

Victor shook his head. “Losses to Gamma - and to Kappa, which the Blackjack garrison belong to - aren’t as strategically important to Khan Pryde as the worlds nearer Terra. Now that we hold Orkney, there’s an opening for Clan Wolf to cross their OZ and hit the Commonwealth, but also to potentially cut the Jade Falcons off from advancing closer to Terra.”

“Is such an advance likely?” Peter frowned. “After the Great Refusal, I thought that we had less to worry about there.”

“It pretty much ends any chance of a united Clan advance, but individual Clans need not concern themselves with the old truceline any more.”

The Archon-Prince nodded in understanding. “Our analysts have come up with some interesting statistics on dead bodies recovered and equipment recovered from Jade Falcon units. I’d like your opinion.” He brought up the spreadsheets and let his brother read.

Victor leant forwards, studying them with narrowed eyes and then leaned back in his chair, eyes distant. “Yes, that matches my recollection although I hadn’t realised it was that widespread. If this is right then their losses are disproportionately heavy in newer OmniMechs and the younger warriors Marthe was probably trying to blood. The long term impacts of that could be… interesting.”

“We lost two commands to their disbanding of one,” Peter noted. “But the Donegal Jaegers and Third Donegal Guards weren’t a huge loss if I’m brutally honest.”

“No, and our usual weighting would place two ‘Mech regiments and the Guards’ conventional brigades as about on a par with the overall losses the Falcons took. In absolute terms, pretty even but strategically I think the Federated Commonwealth has come out ahead.” Victor sat back in his seat and looked at his brother. “Hurrah for us.”

“You have to know what I’m thinking.”

“Going at them next time.” Victor nodded. “A united Star League operation could do it, but the AFFC alone… maybe not.”

“Not now, but in five or ten years when the warriors who died fighting us would have otherwise been moving up into the senior ranks of the Falcons? That’ll let older and more experienced warriors hang on to the positions.”

“Yes, but we’ll have recovered sooner.” Peter saw Victor’s brow furrow in thought, so much like their father that it hurt for a moment. “Your idea to pull out older production tooling that’s been replaced and set up new factories should pay dividends. Two or three years from now we could be ready.”

“So right around the time the Clans would have resumed the invasion anyway.”

“Yes.” Victor hesitated. “And when that time comes, I expect Vlad Ward will attack us. He as good as said that the Wolves still count the truce as binding, not the Refusal Trials on Strana Mechty. So we may be back on the defense again then.”

Peter nodded unhappily but then smiled. “On the other hand, that would leave the Jade Falcons caught between us and Clan Wolf, wouldn’t it.”

Victor snorted. “It’s an ill-wind that blows no one good.”

Chapter 4
Resaurius Keep, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
10 November 3064

The archaic curtain walls of Resaurius wouldn’t have kept out any serious military force but they were a decent windbreak, something Alys Marik appreciated given the cutting north wind that was sweeping across central Bremen at the moment. She pushed her hood back but regretted it - even here the temperature was by no means mild.

Her cousin must have been out for a while already, a long scarf wrapped repeatedly around her neck and lower face not hiding the ruddy hue of her cheeks. “Duchess Marik,” she greeted Alys formally.

“Please, Isis. We’re cousins, surely we can use our actual names.” Alys forced a smile. “Besides, everytime someone calls me ‘her grace of Augustine’ I start looking around for my mother.”

“And then you remember.”

Alys hid a flinch as that cut a little too close. But she was here to win Isis over - disingenuity would hardly serve that goal. “And then I remember.”

Isis gestured towards a bench. “Would you rather sit down? Or we could go inside. Tharkad takes some getting used to.”

“I wouldn’t say no to going inside,” Alys agreed. “You’ve been here for what, five months now?”

“Eight now. It gets even colder than this up on the glaciers.”

“I have done arctic training.” She pushed her fingers into the pockets of her overcoat and rubbed them against each other. She should have brought gloves. Then she did the mental math about that date. “You came in with Prince Victor’s force? I thought you’d arrived after Tharkad was secured.”

Isis opened a door into one of the towers and ushered Alys inside. “Well I didn’t come down with the actual combat troops, but I was with his headquarters unit and after we were pushed off Heidelberg there was nowhere to go except northern Bremen.” She pressed the button on a discreet intercom. “Mr. Overgaag, could my guest and I have some hot chocolate? We’re in the western tower lounge.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“The hot chocolate they make here is fantastic,” Isis confided, letting go of the intercom.

“I’d expect the Archon-Prince can afford the best,” Alys said, a little more sourly than she’d intended.

Isis started unwinding her scarf. “Let’s be honest, Alys, neither of us really had a deprived childhood. But that’s not what bothers you about Peter Steiner-Davion, is it?”

“No.” She looked away for a moment. “Intellectually I know he wasn’t responsible for what happened to my family. It was his sister’s orders and he…”

Her cousin stepped forwards and took her hands. “It’s true that many in the FedCom have lost family and friends to this war, Peter no less than others, but that doesn’t make Aunt Kristen and your family’s deaths any kinder.”

“I know.” Alys watched their interlinked hands for a moment. “I should thank you… I do thank you, for having Ana’s body recovered on Coventry.”

“It was the least I could do.”

“The least you could have done, was nothing,” Alys corrected her. “You did more than your father did.”

That got a blink from Isis and she let go of Alys’ hands as the door opened and a servant brought in a tray with two mugs, a steaming jug and several smaller containers of condiments. “Your hot chocolate, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Gracia.” Isis accepted the platter and placed it on the room’s table before filling the two mugs from the jug. “How do you take your hot chocolate, Alys?”

“With marshmallows,” she replied and gathered her composure as Isis spooned tiny marshmallows into one mug, adding cream to her own. “Isis, are you planning to remain here in the Federated Commonwealth?”

“I’d probably be imposing if I stayed forever but I have limited alternatives.” She handed Alys hot-chocolate and sat down facing her. “The Captain-General has invited me to return to the Free Worlds League but I’m uncertain of my welcome.”

“Please be assured of my welcome.” Alys sipped the hot chocolate and found it quite as fine as her cousin had promised. “And of Aunt Therese.”

“The two of you are close then?”

Alys paused. “We have mutual interests, but I think we would be closer than most of the House without that,” she admitted. “While I was a cadet, mother signed over guardianship to her since it wasn’t practical to fill that role when she was with the Krushers in the Lyran Alliance.”

“Tamarind isn’t all that close to Oriente,” pointed out Isis.

“No, but she visited me every year and stayed in contact by HPG. Not quite as if I was her own daughter, but still…” Alys smiled ruefully. “She’s no saint, I won’t claim that, and she holds grudges like… well, a Marik.”

“Somewhat like grandfather, or so I’ve heard.”

“I’d not want her to hear that, but there’s some truth to that.”

Isis sank back into the cushions of her couch. “We both know why I’m here, cousin. But what brings you to Tharkad - a good Free Worlds League girl? You could be on Tamarind with Aunt Therese, on Augustine taking up the reins of the Krushers and your duchy or on Atreus, swimming through the muck of politics.”

“I’m here to accept Peter Steiner-Davion’s apologies for the deaths of my family and bring Ana home.”

“You could have met the coffin at the border, and I know you could have had a formal public apology delivered by HPG.” Isis leant forwards. “I know the official reasons, Alys. But I’d like the real reason, if you please.”

She hesitated and then answered. “I’m here to keep an imposter from sitting on the Star Lord’s throne.”

Isis raised an eyebrow. “There isn’t a literal throne, you know. Or rather, it’s on Terra in the decaying remains of Unity City and so far as I know the Word of Blake have continued ComStar’s policy of keeping the area sealed.”

Alys blinked. Isis hadn’t asked who the imposter was. “You know that…?”

“Victor told me some time ago that Joshua and I had no significant blood relationship. Since my paternity was checked when father was presumed dead in the same bomb that killed his father and Joshua’s identity as the Captain-General’s child has never been in doubt.” Isis spread her hands. “Basic maths. Besides, he told me earlier this week.”

“And you accepted it?”

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not as if he’s ever been particularly paternal towards me. Neither he nor my real father wanted me. It’s just that they’re two different men.” Isis smiled wryly. “He’s supposed to be alive, by the way. If it makes a difference.”

“Really?” Alys hadn’t expected the conversation to follow this path. “Then if he survived the bomb then why…?”

“I don’t remember, of course, but there was serious concern back in 3036 when he returned to take the Captain-General’s throne that he’d survived through cybernetic reconstruction. Parliament demanded medical examinations to verify they weren’t electing someone who was, in that trite old phrase, ‘more machine than man’.” Isis smirked slightly. “I suppose they should have worried more about his DNA but it might have been a deliberate redirection. I assume that my biological father is substantially mechanical.”

The thought sent a shudder through Alys. “How horrible.”

“I find it hard to care.” Isis topped up her mug from the jug. “And how do you plan to prevent him from becoming First Star Lord?”

“I’d intended to tell the Archon-Prince who he was dealing with - but if his brother knows, then he must know.”

“I’d expect so.”

“Then why hasn’t he done anything?” Alys demanded.

Isis smiled tolerantly. “Like what? House Marik nominated him and I assume that at least some of our elders knew about the substitution - Uncle Paul, for example. And Parliament elected him, so it would take a war to oust him. Why should the Star League commit to that? It’s an internal matter.”

“Then I’ve wasted my time.”

“Not necessarily. You do have your sister’s body, you have the chance to make connections here…” Isis paused. “And while I doubt the Steiner-Davions care very much about his authenticity, stressing the tensions over his identity could make him less of an ideal choice. Who would elect a First Star Lord who might not even rule his own realm by the end of his time in office? Or who might try to use the SLDF to prop up his position?”

“The way Sun-Tzu used them against St Ives?”

“Or Theodore in the Lyons Thumb. Let’s be honest, no First Lord so far has kept his hands entirely clean.” Isis wrapped her fingers around the mug. “There are five available votes - so unless someone abstains ComStar won’t matter. And I doubt they’d vote for someone so tied to the Word of Blake anyway. You can’t expect the Captain-General to vote against himself, so you need to persuade three of the other four to oppose him.”

“I see.” She frowned. Sun-Tzu would probably be a touchy subject and she wasn’t sure if Isis had ever spent significant time with the Rasalhague Regent or the Coordinator. “Do you have any suggestions on how to convince the Archon-Prince?”

“Well don’t start by through to push his name forward as a counter-proposal,” Isis began. She tilted her head back, eyes focusing a little above Alys as she thought. “He’s like his brother in that he doesn’t really want the job and he’s quite busy enough stitching his parents’ realm back together. That’s probably the best approach in fact, convince him that making Thomas Marik the First Star Lord would mean more work for him than the alternatives.”

“He doesn’t want to be First Star Lord?” Alys found it hard to believe.

“I don’t think Peter really expected to end the Civil War in charge of the Federated Commonwealth, and he’s ruling something like three times as many worlds and people as the Captain-General does. Even for a confirmed workaholic like Victor, that was a bit much and Peter isn’t quite as driven but he’s putting in fourteen to sixteen hour days right now and looking forward to the end of the Conference so he can hopefully take a weekend off. The last thing he wants right now is more responsibility.” Isis paused. “Give him a few more years to build up a staff he can trust with some of the work and to get used to the role and perhaps that may change. But right now there’s no way he could get the votes anyway and he’s realistic enough to know that.”

Alys had to keep her jaw from slackening. She’d thought her older cousin was more of a social butterfly than a substantial politician but she’d been able to deliver a cogent analysis despite clearly not having considered the matter before. “You’re very good at this.”

“I’ve learned that I need a better grasp on people’s motives.”

“Can I persuade you to come back to Augustine with me? I could do with a political advisor.”

Her cousin’s smile was more of a grin. “If I do decide to return to the League, I’ll have my own Duchy.”

“You do?” Alys was sure she’d have heard if Isis had substantial estates in her own right.

“It’s in the nature of a bribe. The Captain-General offered me the Duchy of Irian.”

“I thought Irian Technologies owned the planet outright and the dukes were just figureheads.”

Isis nodded. “That’s my own understanding - the title comes with estates there though, as well as a nice block of IrTech shares so it’s not an entirely empty title. And there’s a certain cachet to being a Duchess.”

“Yes, I don’t think Sigsmund Hughes would be pleased.”

“The CEO of IrTech? No, I think he blocked the last attempt to appoint a new Duke by suing the federal government for trademark infringement.” She saw Isis smile at the very idea and couldn’t help but match it. Only in the Free Worlds League. “I imagine the Captain-General would think I’d be distracted fighting Hughes in the courts,” Isis continued. “I have a few ideas how to deal with that but I’m not sure yet if it’s a fight worth taking part in.”

Chapter 5
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
12 November 3064

The Triad’s ballroom had been the site of both the previous Whitting Conferences and the layout had become something of a tradition already, with a podium and tables for the assembled lords forming a circle. That circle had grown a little tighter when the St Ives Compact was... reunited... with the Capellan Confederation and now another table had been removed with the reunion of the Lyran Alliance and the Federated Commonwealth.

The original six seats of the First Star League had probably been something like this, Peter thought, before they moved into the purpose-built chamber in Unity City. Back before the Reunification War. The next triennial Conference would take place only a few days after the five hundredth anniversary of the Federated Suns agreed to join the nascent Star League although the date it became official was either two or four years later: when the Draconis Combine agreed to join or the day the Star League Accords had actually been signed.

“I’m honoured to be invited to return to command of the SLDF,” his brother said from the podium. He wore an AFFC Field Marshal’s uniform now - without prompting, wonders would never cease. “However, it’s been made clear to me that the problems of the Federated Commonwealth are in part of my making and I have a responsibility to make them right. As such, returning to the SLDF is something I couldn’t honourably do at this time.”

Victor bowed his head humbly. “I can assure you though, that Hohiro Kurita has done a fine job commanding the SLDF in my absence and I commend him to you as Commanding General in his own right.”

Peter glanced across the circle at Theodore Kurita and gave a slight nod, confirming that this was his position as well. The Coordinator glanced at his eldest son and then returned the nod.

“Shall we vote on the appointment?” asked Thomas Marik, looking around as he rather blatantly played arbiter of the conversation. “Or does anyone wish to speak on General Kurita’s qualifications?”

No one spoke up and the Captain-General cast his vote in favour, which made the matter a closed deal with both Peter and Theodore adding their vote. General Mansdottir voted in favour as well and Sun-Tzu abstained, which he’d done more often than not in the Conference. Peter took that to be a sign that Catherine was right about his moving to disengage the Capellan Confederation from the Star League now that he’d milked it for all the benefits he was likely to get.

Hohiro Kurita moved from the seat next to his father to replace Victor at the podium, the two friends shaking hands amicably before Victor moved back to sit in one of the chairs at the Federated Commonwealth table.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Hohiro began, setting a noteputer on the podium. “I’m honoured to be named as the Commanding General. I’d like to continue today’s discussions by touching on the expansion of the SLDF.”

Peter nodded. “Please continue, General Kurita.”

“The original intention for the SLDF was to gradually build up towards something resembling the organisation of original SLDF - brigades, divisions and even corps of troops - a plan which would take a considerable length of time.” Hohiro cleared his throat. “After extended discussions with General Trevana, I’ve come to the conclusion that not only would the timescale for this be unrealistic but it would also fail to recognise both the very different logistical situation of the modern SLDF and the lessons all our militaries have learned through the Succession Wars and the Clan Invasion.”

“May I ask what you propose instead?” asked the Captain-General - who along with the bored-looking Sun-Tzu Liao hadn’t been consulted on this. To be fair, Hohiro hadn’t approached Peter either but Victor had filled him in.

“At the moment, the SLDF includes the Eridani Light Horse, the Royal Black Watch regiment and the First Royal BattleMech regiment, effectively six BattleMech regiments with varying degrees of conventional support. Over the next three years, I’m proposing to reorganise and expand this into a pair of Regimental Combat Teams, each made up of four combined arms brigades. Each of these brigades will be built around a BattleMech regiment - or at least a ‘Mech-heavy combined arms regiment - a supporting infantry or at least infantry-heavy regiment and a support command of armour, artillery, aerospace and other specialised assets.”

“Much like a Draconis Combine combat brigade then?” asked Alys Marik from where she was seated next to her ‘uncle’.

“Similarly, Duchess Marik.” Hohiro inclined his head slightly. “The Eridani Light Horse would retain their traditional designation as the Third SLDF RCT, while the Black Watch and the First Royals will form the core of the First SLDF Royal RCT, joined by two additional brigades. In the long term, we envisage dividing the First RCT to create a Second RCT with one spearheaded by the First Royals and the other by the Black Watch.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. “I like it, the strong infantry contingent would serve the SLDF well in the peacekeeper roles they’ve been called on for in their recent history and the units are small enough to be strategically flexible.”

“Thank you, your highness.”

“How do you propose to pay for this expansion?” Sun-Tzu asked in a disinterested tone, as if he could barely be bothered to enquire. “I see no military threat to justify further contributions towards this military build-up.”

Peter restrained himself from a snort at the hypocrisy of the former First Lord who’d used the SLDF as peacekeepers in the neighbouring St Ives Compact and then replaced them with his own troops in a creeping invasion.

If Hohiro felt similarly, the new Commanding General didn’t condescend to show it. “Over the last three years, much of the material budget of the SLDF has gone to replacing equipment lost in Operation Serpent… and similarly the personnel budget into rebuilding lost manpower. We’re now receiving a steady flow of recruits from the Focht War College on Tukayyid and our equipment stockpiles are sufficient to begin assembling the proposed Second BattleMech Regiment next year, with the Third to follow in 3066.”

“The College provides freshly trained personnel.” Ragnar Magnusson was seated next to his Regent at Rasalhague’s table but he’d spoken rarely so far. “Do you have enough experienced personnel to stiffen them in the new units?”

“In addition to the college, our recruiters have had an influx of new applications on Galatea and Outreach.” Hohiro tapped his noteputer, clearly changing pages. “The majority of the increase comes from former AFFC and LAAF soldiers discharged over the last twelve months.”

“Your soldiers are voting with your feet?” Sun-Tzu asked snidely.

“There are also a number of soldiers from worlds once part of the Sarna March who’ve chosen not to take Capellan service,” Hohiro continued, causing Sun-Tzu to subside and trigger some less than discreet snickers among those further from the tables. “While some additional training in SLDF doctrine and equipment will be required, we expect to be able to stand up the infantry regiments and most of the two support commands before the end of 3065.”

“BattleMechs will take longer then?”

“Yes, Captain-General. The main restraint there is in purchasing new BattleMechs. We have sufficient funds but most major manufacturers are prioritising their national militaries. With the exception of your own realm and Rasalhague, recent military action has left them rebuilding.” He paused. “It’s not clear why your own manufacturers are so heavily booked.”

“I’d imagine that with other nations restricting sales that we’re receiving increased demand from mercenary units,” Marik replied.

“If we can avoid further conflict amongst ourselves, I’d imagine the situation will stabilise in a year or two.” Peter folded his hands and leant forwards to rest his chin on then. “But it should be feasible for most of us to set aside a company or two of new ‘Mechs for the SLDF, surely. That should permit the Second SLDF BattleMech regiment to form on schedule.”

“Given your realm’s much vaunted military-industrial complex, I’m sure you’d like a larger share of the Star League tax money,” Sun-Tzu grumbled.

Peter didn’t bother to restrain his expression. “If I suggested that all five members provide twenty-four ‘Mechs you’d complain that I was putting disproportionate load on your realm, but if we go with proportions based on relative size then I’m pork-barrelling? There’s really no pleasing you, Chancellor.”

“That’s enough,” Theodore said firmly. “Such squabbling ill-befits the Star League Council.” He looked back to his son. “If you could have the SLDF’s projected needs circulated to our staffs, each lord can see what they might be able to award priority with their native manufacturers.”

“Of course, sir.” Hohiro tapped once more on his noteputer. “If an agreement in principle can be agreed then purchasing officers could travel to each state along with the council delegations as they return home. The sooner the arrangements are locked in, the sooner we can begin bringing the Second SLDF brigade to combat readiness.”

Peter made a note to himself as well. Resupplying the AFFC was going well but replacing soldiers - both those killed and those who’d chosen discharge over continuing to serve or even retirement to their homeworlds’ militias - was going to be a slow process. Lowering standards could have sped the process up but the cost of that could be severe in combat effectiveness so it was looking as if it wouldn’t be until the current freshmen in various academies graduated that frontline forces would be back at their full notional strength.

As a result, finding a few companies of BattleMechs shouldn’t be impossible over the next year. He’d set working groups to assessing variants currently in production to try to cut down the enormous variety of designs being churned out and focus on ‘Mechs that had solid performance to back their use. The uncertainty over what they should be building had set some of the smaller manufacturers back so contracting for a few of what they were already building - and in the case of those competing for grants to set up secondary facilities, smooth feathers.

He’d see what Hohiro had in mind.

“Thomas is covering for something,” Victor murmured. “Most of the mercenary commands these days are leaning on independent manufacturers like Outreach. If anything the League’s share of that market is diminishing.”

“So where’s the equipment going?” asked Peter quietly, half-turning as the Captain-General engaged Hohiro with questions about possibly seeing an SLDF deployment to halt the ongoing conflicts between the periphery states near his border. There wasn’t a chance in hell of that getting approved so it was almost certainly just playing for the holo-cameras.

Victor glanced significantly towards William Blane, the Blakist representation in the Free Worlds League delegation. “Even now that they control Terra, the Word of Blake is receiving a double-digit percentage of the League’s military manufacture.”

What were they doing with that? Peter wondered. Terra was by its nature a threat poised to sever the Terran corridor if the Blakists decided to turn against the Federated Commonwealth. And so little was known of their military strength that planning counter-measures was an exercise in speculation. In the worst case, adding ten percent of the League’s production to any factories restored on Terra could easily bring them up to the size of ComGuards given a few more years.

We need to know more, he decided. This isn’t something I can afford to ignore.
3 November 3064

Peter Ardan Steiner-Davion held the coffee mug under his nose and inhaled the rich scent of the steaming contents. He remembered how much heâ€™d needed the brew to get through studying for his exams back at NAIS. If only heâ€™d known back then what it was to be really busy. Heâ€™d had no idea.

Well, such was life. You grew up orâ€¦ Well, or you had a grave somewhere. Ugh, he was getting downright maudlin. A mouthful of coffee washed that away just in time as a knock on the door signalled the arrival of his next meeting.

The Captain-General of the Free Worlds League was wearing the dress uniform of the FWLM even for this theoretically informal meeting. But then, there was only so much that one could unbend when the meeting involved two heads of state. The scar-faced man hid a startled expression as he saw that Peter was wearing a long, hooded robe - if one of far richer materials than Peter had worn during his long self-imposed exile.

â€œI wouldnâ€™t have thought that desert robes were suited to this climate,â€ Thomas Marik murmured as he accepted the offer of a mug of his own from a servant, who then discreetly withdrew. The older man - he was easily twice the Archon-Princeâ€™s age - added a drop of cream to his coffee before setting the small tray aside and joining Peter in the window bay of the meeting room, looking out at the sleet-swept garden outside.

Peter smiled tightly and sat down again on the cushioned bench that filled the bay. â€œWhile the popular image of deserts is one of heat, they can get very cold at night. These are well-insulated against this climate.â€ Tharkad was a cold world compared to most planets colonised by humanity, with glaciers covering more than half of the continent of Bremen despite it lying well south of the polar regions.

â€œIf you were wanting to harken back to my ComStar days theyâ€™re the wrong colour.â€

â€œIâ€™m just being self-indulgent,â€ Peter assured him - the robes were royal blue and the cut was also significantly different from those of ComStar and the Word of Blake. â€œWhere would you like to begin.â€

Thomas took a sip from his coffee. â€œIâ€™d like to see my daughter.â€

â€œI was under the impression that Jessica was on Atreus, with the rest of your family,â€ Peter told him drily. â€œIf ComStar are giving you grief on contacting them Iâ€™ll do what I canâ€¦â€

â€œYou know I mean Isis.â€

â€œAnd you know that I know that youâ€™re no blood relative to her - or at least so distant that itâ€™s not worth mentioning.â€

Thomasâ€™ eyes narrowed, the scars around his right one leaving the expression disconcertingly asymmetric. â€œAre you threatening me?â€

â€œIf I was threatening you, Captain-General, you wouldnâ€™t be left in any doubt of the matter.â€ Peter raised his mug to his lips, sipped and lowered it. â€œBut letâ€™s cut the crap. The fact is that youâ€™re not theâ€¦ original, shall we say? Not the original Thomas Marik. And that fact has already slipped out to too many people in the Free Worlds League. Youâ€™d have to be an idiot not to realise that itâ€™s going to hit the public sooner or later, which means it has laughably little value as blackmail.â€

He put the mug down entirely. â€œYouâ€™ve been a very effective Captain-General and except for the understandable issues after your son died, youâ€™ve been someone we can do business with since the Clan Invasion. But letâ€™s call a spade a spade.â€

The older man eyed him steadily and then drank from his own mug, using the gesture to break eye contact. â€œVery well. I wish to speak with Isis Marik.â€

â€œSheâ€™s at Resaurius Keep. As far as I can tell, you can just go over there and speak to her anytime you want.â€ He couldnâ€™t, but Peter wanted to see what Thomas said.

â€œI tried. I was denied entrance.â€

â€œIâ€™ve given no such orders,â€ he told Thomas honestly. â€œThe security answers directly to Isis - my brother assigned them to her.â€ Victor had an absolute gift for befriending female members of the other great houses. If he hit it off with Kali Liao then heâ€™d have a full set. Peter hid a shiver at the very thought. The Chancellorâ€™s sister was a dangerous lunatic - even her brother admitted it.

â€œCan you not overrule him? I understood that you rule, not that you were his proxy.â€

Oh so he wanted to play that game? Peter rubbed his jaw. â€œOf course, but if I compromise the security of one guest, how would my other guests -â€ Such as Thomas himself, or the other members of the Star League Council â€œ- feel about their own safety?â€

â€œThen arrange something,â€ the Captain-General grated, anger seeping into his voice. â€œYouâ€™re an inventive young man.â€

Peterâ€™s temper flared and for a moment he was on the edge of snapping back. Instead, with difficulty he kept his face and voice steady, cramming the anger down inside him where he could deal with it later. â€œIs that really the position you want to take, Captain-General?â€

The so-called Marik paused and his next words were more conciliatory. â€œI intended that as a compliment, Lord Steiner-Davion. But perhaps that was not how it came across. There is another matter we should discuss.â€

â€œYes. Arcadia.â€

Thomas made a dismissive gesture. â€œMy forces will withdraw, of course. We had no intention of claiming the world, merely extracting myâ€¦ Kristenâ€™s Krushers. Iâ€™m sure you would have done the same.â€

â€œI would. And so, it would appear, would Therese Marik and her husband.â€ Peter took satisfaction at the colour rising on the other manâ€™s unscarred cheek at the confirmation that Lyran intelligence was aware that the Sixth Marik Militia hadnâ€™t crossed the border on the Captain-Generalâ€™s orders.

Kristen Marikâ€™s death - along with her husband and two of their three children - had done nothing to ease tensions between the two realms. Contracted to defend Coventry, the Krushers had served Katrina loyally and helped put down the pro-Victor provincial militia only to have the Coventry Jaegers betray them and attempt to massacre the mercenary regiment.

Escaping and crossing almost the entire Lyran Alliance - along with a daring raid on Gallery - the Krushers had finally been run to ground on the border world of Arcadia, from which the Captain-General had refused to rescue them. Kristenâ€™s brother-in-law Jeremy Brett-Marik had soured his career a second time by leading a mission to rescue the survivors, too late to save his in-laws. Popular media had seized on it and a major holovid was being shepherded through production despite official attempts to quash it. The result would undoubtedly make Archon and Captain-General out as villainsâ€¦ but the public splash was nothing compared to the impact on Kristenâ€™s surviving daughter Alys, whoâ€™d moved firmly into the orbit of her Aunt Therese and the â€˜loyal oppositionâ€™ within House Marik itself.

â€œThe MRBC have ruled in favour of the Krushers, of course,â€ Peter added after a moment. â€œIâ€™ve instructed our lawyers not to contest the ruling. Duchess Alys may expect the bodies of the dead personnel along with the financial and material compensation to cross the border before the end of the year. I hope there will be no barriers to their delivery.â€

â€œIâ€™ll ensure there are no issues.â€

â€œGood.â€ Peter leant back, feeling the cold glass of the window even through his thick hair, although the hood cushioned his neck. â€œThe Coventry Jaegers have been struck from the rolls. Little satisfaction for her, I suppose.â€

â€œI would think not. The Federated Commonwealth has not been a safe place for House Marik over the last few years.â€

â€œJoshuaâ€™s leukaemia long predated his time at NAIS,â€ Peter reminded him. â€œAnd Kristenâ€™s command was unfortunately far from the only one betrayed by the former Archon. Rhonda Snord springs to mind.â€

â€œUnlike Janos Marik, I have no grudge against that unit,â€ Thomas riposted mildly. â€œI assure you, my only interest in Isis is to assure her that she can return safely to her home. The falling out with Sun-Tzu was clearly his fault and not hers, whatever he may claim.â€

â€œAnd yet you supported the relationship.â€

â€œBesides the political benefits of their engagement, she seemed genuinely enamoured of him.â€ The Captain-General spread his hands. â€œI do care for the girl in my own way.â€

â€œI will pass on the invitation to speak with her.â€ Peter cupped his hands around the mug for its last heat and then drained it. â€œThe choice is hers though. Sheâ€™s under the protection of my House so long as she remains here. If she feels safer with us than with you, then any problems that causes for your image are not my concern.â€

â€œI wouldnâ€™t have expected you to be worried.â€

â€œOh, I am worried. Iâ€™ve just been through one civil war. Another, even across the border, isnâ€™t something I look on favourably. But interfering in the Leagueâ€™s politics wouldnâ€™t do me any favours.â€

Thomas considered. â€œThere is one thing that you could do.â€

â€œMy position on Isis is final.â€

â€œThat is understood, Lord Steiner-Davion, but you do have a vote in Star League matters.â€

â€œAnd you wantâ€¦?â€

â€œI think itâ€™s fairly obvious Iâ€™ll be elected as First Lord for the next three years.â€ Thomasâ€™ face creased in a smile. â€œMeaning no offense, youâ€™re still something of an unknown quantity while House Liao and House Kurita have had their chance and in the rotational nature of the office, the other great houses must hold it before they can be re-elected to it.â€

â€œIt would be difficult for me to secure a majority vote,â€ agreed Peter drily.

â€œThree years from now would likely be a very different matter, but even my vote wouldnâ€™t be enough to elect you as things stand.â€ Thomas put his own mug aside. â€œThe prestige of that may help to win over some of the more fractious elements in my parliament. If that election was unanimous, it might help to heal some of the tensions that have plagued the Star League through the last three years.â€

â€œAnd of course it would look even better for you at home.â€

â€œExactly.â€

â€œIâ€™ll give that some thought,â€ Peter said diplomatically, although key points were already obvious: both Victor and Katrina had voted in traditional rivals of the Federated Commonwealth to the First Lordship. Doing the same and expecting it to play better in the Lyran provinces along the League border than his siblings had found in the other border marches would be madness. Being outvoted would be a small thing in comparison.

Chapter 2
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
5 November 3064

Isis Marik had chosen not to meet her fatherâ€™s doppelganger at Resaurius Keep - she preferred to keep the retreat as a private refuge and inviting him there would have unsettled her sense of security within itâ€™s faux-medieval walls.

There was also the question of privacy. Their conversation might well touch on private matters so she preferred they not be overheard, but having some visibility could act as a restraint upon the Captain-General. The observation gallery for the Estates General served for this - floor to ceiling windows looking out over the debating chamber gave visibility in both directions but the long gallery could be divided into several rooms by soundproof barriers. Since Peter Steiner-Davion had pushed - however mildly - for the meeting to take place, Isis felt no guilt in putting him out by requiring one such room set up for her.

Although she had arrived early, she found the room already occupied - her so-called father was sitting on one of the couches, the lights dimmed slightly to make it harder for those in the debating chamber or the other parts of the gallery to see details of them within.

So heâ€™d taken her preparations and turned them to give himself a home ground advantage. Nonetheless Isis knew where the light dimmer was and was able to announce her presence by bringing them up sharply, crossing her arms as Thomas â€˜Marikâ€™ blinked at the sudden increase in light levels. â€œYou pushed for this meeting, Captain-General, what is it that you want?â€

â€œIsis, I want you to come home.â€

â€œHome?â€ She looked at him in surprise. â€œFor ten years that was Sian, but Iâ€™m no longer welcome there. We both know I was never really welcome on Atreus, you only kept me around because until Joshua was born and after leukaemia was diagnosed you needed an alternative heir on hand. So where is home?â€

Thomas shook his head. â€œWithin the Free Worlds League, with your cousins. If Atreus doesnâ€™t suit you, Isis, we have many holdings. Your exile is self-imposed - no one blames you for Sun-Tzu renouncing your engagement to him.â€

â€œHow strange, because I rather got the impression that you blamed me.â€ Isis forced a smile that was deeply ironic. â€œThe man who arranged the engagement but never permitted a marriage, who made an alliance but withdrew from military operations when your goals were met when your allyâ€™s objectives hadnâ€™t beenâ€¦ found it easier to blame me than accept that heâ€™d used me as an expendable hostage.â€

â€œYou were never a hostage,â€ he protested.

â€œSun-Tzu saw it more clearly than I did. And however angry I am at him, I saw better than you how your actions were viewed on Sian. But that was never a consideration. Did you even read my letters?â€

â€œOf course.â€

â€œThen you knew full well that his patience was expiring. I can at least claim inexperience in realising what that would mean for me personally.â€ She walked over to the window and looked down at the Estates General - they were debating with their High Council peers something about currency reform. â€œYouâ€™ve led the Free Worlds League for almost thirty years, you have no such excuse.â€

â€œAnd Iâ€™ve been your father for slightly longer than that. Perhapsâ€¦ no, certainly with less success.â€ Thomas walked to join her.

â€œMy father? Is my real father even alive?â€ she asked. â€œI doubt Iâ€™ve ever even met him.â€

The Captain-General hesitated. â€œYes. He is still alive. The bomb that killed your grandfather required extensive reconstruction - enough that he would be politically unacceptable as Captain-General.â€

â€œYou mean heâ€™s a cyborg. Somewhere within the Word of Blakeâ€™s ranks, I would assume.â€

â€œA respected voice within the Toyamist wing of their leadership.â€

Isis glanced sideways at the irony in the white-haired Captain-Generalâ€™s voice. â€œNot one that I have ever heard.â€

â€œI suppose not. Your uncle Paul remains in close contact with him - heâ€™s been a conduit over the years.â€

â€œPuppet and puppetmaster?â€

The Captain-General shook his head. â€œProxy. But over a quarter of a century we have had someâ€¦ disagreements.â€

â€œSince youâ€™re close to William Blane, who is hardly a Toyamist, I would say so.â€ She let her smile fall off her face. â€œYou said Paul was close to himâ€¦ and Corinne?â€

â€œI donâ€™t know if sheâ€™s been taken into his confidence that far.â€

â€œBut she knows that you arenâ€™t who you claim to be.â€

â€œI am who I have been for a generation. One of the better leaders the Free Worlds League has ever had. Does my exact parentage really matter?â€

â€œYouâ€™re asking a bastard that?â€ Reaching forwards, Isis touched the glass separating her from the politics of the Federated Commonwealth. â€œDo you really think I have anything to go back to in the Free Worlds League. At best Iâ€™d just be another minor Marik, dependent on better heeled relatives for my daily bread. No different from being a perpetual guest here, really.â€

â€œSetting aside my own legitimacyâ€¦ youâ€™re the grand-daughter of a Captain-General. Lands and titles are yours for the asking.â€

Isis paused. How desperate must he be for her presence in the League to say something like that, even if only she could hear that? â€œAnd if I asked?â€

It was his turn to hesitate and she felt his gaze on her, measuring if it was greed or ambition that motivated the question - or rather, how much of each. In that evaluation she understood as she hadnâ€™t before how Victor had come to despise politics for the shadows cast by the supposedly high ideals of those who practised it.

â€œThe dukedom of Irian has been vacant since the execution of Garth Marik in 3028,â€ Thomas told her, in the tone of a man dangling bait before a hungry fish.

She laughed. How could she not? And as he drew back, affronted, Isis half turned away from the glass and towards him. â€œWhy do you need me so much, â€˜fatherâ€™? Do you want me to be your mouthpiece, someone to counter Corinne and Alys within House Marik?â€

â€œNo one who knows our history would think you would be in my camp,â€ Thomas admitted. â€œAnd I wouldnâ€™t expect you to be partisan on my behalf, but for that reason where you can find it in yourself to speak on my behalf you would be all the more convincing.â€

â€œAnd you imagine that I would?â€

â€œAll I ask is your honesty. I have been a good Captain-General and the alternatives areâ€¦â€ He made a dismissive gestureâ€¦

â€œWho are they?â€

â€œSupport is rallying around Corinne.â€ Thomas made a face. â€œMy replacement as proxy for your biological father, whether she knows it or not.â€

â€œAnd thus the Word of Blake would rule through her?â€

â€œYou understand then.â€

â€œWho else?â€ asked Isis. â€œIâ€™ve followed the politics of the League where I can, but at a distance and with the priority of Victorâ€™s headquarters as the war against Katrinaâ€¦â€

He nodded. â€œTherese is promoting her son, Photon. He has the martial reputation to be a serious contender but Therese is no friend to Paul. If one side or another took the throne then the other would fight them for it.â€

â€œSo you say.â€ Isis had to concede the point though. Photon was twenty years her elder and had spent almost that long under a false name, rising to Lieutenant-Colonel of the Second Free Worlds Guards on his own merits not the Marik name. Isis had still been at court in 3050 when Thomas awarded him the Order of the Saber in his own name for valour. He was in his prime, a tested and proven leader constrained only by the geographical and political distance between his motherâ€™s stronghold on Tamarind and the capital on Atreus. In contrast Corinne was younger and less tested, but far better connected as the daughter of the Leagueâ€™s Minister of Intelligence.

â€œBesides that, Kirc Cameron-Jones is whispering that since House Marik has placed a non-Marik on the throne that weâ€¦ that theyâ€™ve forfeited their right to first refusal. As such, as head of one of the original provinces he claims that heâ€™s a right to the throne.â€

Isis rolled her eyes. â€œI take it that Duke Halas differs from that.â€ Thomasâ€™ second wife Sherryl was the Dukeâ€™s daughter. He also ruled Oriente, one of the three great provinces whose alliance centuries before had founded the Free Worlds League.

â€œChristopher isnâ€™t just my father-in-law and a friend. We share the same views of the Leagueâ€™s future.â€

â€œAnd those would be? I can speak for your record, mixed as it is, but I canâ€™t say youâ€™ve ever confided in me politically.â€

Thomas gestured back towards the seats and Isis returned, realising to her chagrin that sheâ€™d steered the conversation back into safe waters for him. Political discussions were meat and drink to the Captain-General - as natural as breathing.

â€œThe last time the Steiners and Davions united kicked off the most ferocious war in a century,â€ he warned her. â€œAnd that was with far more constrained resources and military capability than weâ€™ve built since. A new Succession War could tear down all the progress weâ€™ve made in our lifetime.â€

â€œSo you support the Star League?â€

â€œExactly.â€ Thomas gave her a half-clap. â€œA military response could be cataclysmic, but the Star League can serve as a balancing effect against potential dominance of the Federated Commonwealth, since they have only a single voice there, outnumbered by the other members.â€

â€œA constraint that may start to chafe,â€ warned Isis.

â€œIndeed, just as their economic and military might threatens the rest of us. So it must be handled delicately.â€ The Captain-General leant forwards. â€œThe Free Worlds League can hold a crucial centre-ground - our only major conflict with the Commonwealth was Operation Gurerro, and even their own media concur that we had ample justification there.â€

â€œSince Victor Steiner-Davion defeated the Clans on their homeworld, the outside threat of a renewed Clan Invasion no longer holds the Star League together, and internal pressures are building. Weâ€™re uniquely placed to step forwards as leaders in a new balance of power - which in turn means we can use our relative security and prosperity to expand economically and provide for our people.â€ He shook his head. â€œKircâ€™s views have rarely reached past the borders of the League while Corinneâ€™s backers are more concerned with advancing the Wordâ€™s most extremist agendas than with our own future.â€

Isis considered. â€œYou want us to hold the balance of power between the Federated Commonwealth and their enemies?â€ she asked doubtfully.

â€œPrecisely.â€ He nodded like an approving school teacher. â€œWith proper guidance the Star League can guarantee stability for the Inner Sphere for generations to come.â€

Chapter 3
Mount Asgard, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
6 November 3064

â€œYouâ€™re sure about resigning?â€ Peter asked bluntly. â€œThereâ€™s a place for you with the First Royal Tharkad Battle Armor Regiment if you want it.â€

The young man - well, not that young, according to the file on Peterâ€™s desk he was only a year and a half younger than Peter himself - shook his head firmly. â€œNo sir. My father always told me the regiment was his home and it wasnâ€™t until Iâ€™d left the Legion that I realised how right he was.â€

Peter gave Alexander Carlyle a long look and rubbed his jaw. â€œI suppose I can hardly argue against going home once you have some perspective,â€ he conceded. The son of the legendary Grayson Death Carlyle had missed the consolidation of most of the Royal Guards survivors into the Second Royals due to injuries suffered in the defense of the Triad. One of those injuries had been damage to one ear that left him unable to pilot a BattleMech - one problem that even Star League medical science had never quite overcome.

His only reply was a nod and Peter hid a sigh. Rebuilding the Lyran armed forces was proving a struggle when soldiers like this - promising junior officers who could have been the future leaders of the entire force - felt they couldnâ€™t continue to serve. â€œWould you rather muster out on Glengarry or on Hesperus II where the Legion are based right now?â€

Carlyle blinked. â€œI was expecting here, sir.â€

â€œYou can if you prefer, but I assumed youâ€™d want to take your â€˜Mech with you - the Legion will probably want it back -â€ Even in its damaged state, the Archer was a valuable asset. â€œ- and the least we can do is get you home on the militaryâ€™s dime.â€

â€œUhâ€¦ Hesperus II, sir. Colonel Carlyle has offered me a battle armor company with the Legion so I should report for active service.â€

Peter nodded and made a notation. â€œYou can expect shipping orders by tonight,â€ he promised. â€œBut it may be a few days before thereâ€™s a dropship headed the right way.â€ Standing, he leaned over his desk to offer the soon to be former Hauptmann his hand. â€œPerhaps weâ€™ll cross paths again someday.â€

â€œThank you, sir.â€ Carlyle accepted the hand and when it was released he offered a razor-sharp salute. â€œFor whatâ€™s worth, Iâ€™m honoured you offered to keep me on.â€

The young officer left and Peter slumped back into his chair. As titular commanding officer of the Fifth Royal Guards - and as Archon Prince he was in theory commander of the entire Royal Guard brigade - heâ€™d also taken on responsibility for those Royal Guards not shipped out to Donegal or Skye. These meetings had been a fine excuse to escape the five-ring circus of the Star League Councilâ€™s more ceremonial activities for a day but they were just as wearing in their way.

â€œWhatâ€™s next?â€ he muttered and checked his schedule, brightening as he reached the entry. Thumbing his intercom he demanded: â€œIs Field Marshal Steiner-Davion here?â€

â€œYes sir.â€

â€œSend him in.â€

A moment later the door admitted his elder brother, looking disgustingly healthy and well-rested. â€œYour highness.â€

Peter gave him a mock glare. â€œIt could have been you behind this desk, you know.â€

â€œAnd Iâ€™ve never been more sure I made the right choice. Being the Archon-Prince suits you, Peter.â€

â€œAnd being a father seems good for you.â€

â€œYouâ€™ve got no idea.â€ Victor took the seat facing Peter without waiting for an invitation, a welcome change from some of the stiff formality heâ€™d had so far this morning. â€œKnowing that Kitâ€™s here, a part of myself and Omi thatâ€™ll live on even if something happens to usâ€¦ it changes everything.â€

â€œMaybe you have to be there.â€ Peter leant back in his chair and rubbed his face with both hands. â€œGod, there arenâ€™t enough hours in the day.â€

â€œThe secret is delegation,â€ Victor told him. â€œEven father couldnâ€™t do everything himself and he did more than most First Princes. He handed off work to Ardan, Morgan, Justinâ€¦ if you find the right people then itâ€™s a bearable load.â€

â€œYou know what all those people have in common?â€

That took the wind out of Victorâ€™s sails. â€œYes. Theyâ€™re all dead.â€

â€œAnd Quintus Allard isnâ€™t getting any younger. Dragging him out of retirement wasnâ€™t really fair - fortunately Quint Jr. is coming along well. A real chip off the old block.â€

â€œThe only man I found I could trust like that was Galen.â€

Peter nodded. â€œAnd heâ€™s going back to the SLDF, I gather.â€

Victor shrugged. â€œI canâ€™t but he feels he can do more good there than he can here.â€ Unspoken was that Galen Cox could never really go home - heâ€™d been born on Tamar, now the capital of Clan Wolfâ€™s Occupation Zone.

â€œAt least I have you, Cat and Yvonne. Itâ€™s a start.â€

â€œYesâ€¦ About Cat.â€ Victor steepled his fingers. â€œI never did ask you what was going on with herâ€¦ visions did you call them?â€

â€œI didnâ€™t call them that.â€ Peter rubbed his chin. â€œHonestly, I donâ€™t know. Nor does she - but some of her predictions have been pretty accurate.â€

â€œSuch as?â€

â€œShe knew about the New Dallas cache,â€ he said promptly. â€œAbout the assassin posing as a gardener on Luthien. And she knew Katrina would try to purge the First Davion Guards months before the order was actually given.â€

â€œIâ€™d like to say that I donâ€™t believe in predestination,â€ his older brother said thoughtfully. â€œIâ€™ll grant you that there are more things in heaven and earthâ€¦ but even so.â€

â€œYeah. Mind you, whatever she saw is mutable. Or at least can be changed. Her prediction was that the Civil War would last more than five years and we were able to change that.â€

Victor shuddered. â€œFive years. That would have been bad. If nothing else it would have been much harder to fight off the Jade Falcons.â€

â€œSpeaking of which, weâ€™re supposed to be discussing that.â€

â€œI know, but Iâ€™m curious.â€ There was a note of reluctant fascination in Victorâ€™s voice. â€œWhat does she foresee now?â€

â€œNothing new,â€ Peter told him. â€œTheâ€¦ visions were mixed in with the tangle of memories sheâ€™s still getting to grips with but from what she says, sheâ€™s not having dreams of events stemming from what weâ€™re actually dealing with. So hopefully weâ€™ve changed enough that we wonâ€™t see the other things she predicted.â€

â€œWe should probably at least check into them,â€ Victor said cautiously. â€œAre they being documented?â€

â€œDiscreetly, yes. Iâ€™d rather it not get out that my Regent on New Avalon was advising me based on prophetic dreams. Officially sheâ€™s just very astute, despite her other issues.â€

Victor grimaced. â€œFair enough. Iâ€™d like to see what she predicted anyway.â€

â€œIâ€™d expected more scepticism.â€

â€œSaving Omi gets her a lot of credit,â€ the blond brother said drily. â€œAnd I have firsthand experience of near-death visionsâ€¦ on Luthien when I got run through. I canâ€™t entirely rule out she may have seen something while she was in the desert on Zaniah.â€ He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with exploring the matter further. â€œBut yes, the Falcons.â€

â€œYes.â€ Peter paused. â€œCongratulations, by the way.â€

â€œYouâ€™re quite welcome.â€ Victor shrugged self-deprecating. â€œThe Falcons are hard fighters but at least itâ€™s more clear-cut than the other battles weâ€™ve faced lately.â€

Peter brought up the holo-display to show the border with the Jade Falcons. â€œIt looks on face value as if we gave about as good as we got.â€

â€œI think thatâ€™s a fair assessment,â€ agreed Victor. He reached up and pointed at two of the worlds that had been lost. â€œBoth Khans were fighting here - Marthe Pryde on Kookenâ€™s Pleasure Pit and Samantha Clees on Kikuyu. They tried using them as staging grounds for further attacks but Adamâ€™s counter-attacks caused enough confusion that they didnâ€™t get far before my task force arrived and we were able to contain further attacks.â€

â€œThey didnâ€™t expect Adam to move aggressively.â€ Peter pointed at Blackjack and Twycross, a narrow salient driven into the Falconsâ€™ Occupation Zone like a nail. There were less courteous comparisons given the smaller attacks on either flank that had won Parakoila and Bone-Norman back for the Federated Commonwealth. â€œI can see why taking these worlds would cause them issues - Twycross is a respectable industrial node and I gather the Falcons had been using the old Blackjack Academy to train their own warriors. What surprises me is that they didnâ€™t try harder to take them back.â€

â€œEven after all these years the Clans tend to undervalue logistics and command structures.â€ Victorâ€™s finger stabbed at Mogyorod. â€œI think Marthe delegated a lot of the fighting at this end of the border to her saKhan and when Clees died on Mogyorod, coordination between Delta and Gamma Galaxies fell apart. There are unconfirmed reports that half of Delta Galaxy was disbanded and that the rest of their units have been sent to Rho and Omega Galaxies to help rebuild them.â€

â€œNot to Gamma? They lost the Falcon Guards when Adamâ€™s task force hit them on Twycross.â€

Victor shook his head. â€œLosses to Gamma - and to Kappa, which the Blackjack garrison belong to - arenâ€™t as strategically important to Khan Pryde as the worlds nearer Terra. Now that we hold Orkney, thereâ€™s an opening for Clan Wolf to cross their OZ and hit the Commonwealth, but also to potentially cut the Jade Falcons off from advancing closer to Terra.â€

â€œIs such an advance likely?â€ Peter frowned. â€œAfter the Great Refusal, I thought that we had less to worry about there.â€

â€œIt pretty much ends any chance of a united Clan advance, but individual Clans need not concern themselves with the old truceline any more.â€

The Archon-Prince nodded in understanding. â€œOur analysts have come up with some interesting statistics on dead bodies recovered and equipment recovered from Jade Falcon units. Iâ€™d like your opinion.â€ He brought up the spreadsheets and let his brother read.

Victor leant forwards, studying them with narrowed eyes and then leaned back in his chair, eyes distant. â€œYes, that matches my recollection although I hadnâ€™t realised it was that widespread. If this is right then their losses are disproportionately heavy in newer OmniMechs and the younger warriors Marthe was probably trying to blood. The long term impacts of that could beâ€¦ interesting.â€

â€œWe lost two commands to their disbanding of one,â€ Peter noted. â€œBut the Donegal Jaegers and Third Donegal Guards werenâ€™t a huge loss if Iâ€™m brutally honest.â€

â€œNo, and our usual weighting would place two â€˜Mech regiments and the Guardsâ€™ conventional brigades as about on a par with the overall losses the Falcons took. In absolute terms, pretty even but strategically I think the Federated Commonwealth has come out ahead.â€ Victor sat back in his seat and looked at his brother. â€œHurrah for us.â€

â€œYou have to know what Iâ€™m thinking.â€

â€œGoing at them next time.â€ Victor nodded. â€œA united Star League operation could do it, but the AFFC aloneâ€¦ maybe not.â€

â€œNot now, but in five or ten years when the warriors who died fighting us would have otherwise been moving up into the senior ranks of the Falcons? Thatâ€™ll let older and more experienced warriors hang on to the positions.â€

â€œYes, but weâ€™ll have recovered sooner.â€ Peter saw Victorâ€™s brow furrow in thought, so much like their father that it hurt for a moment. â€œYour idea to pull out older production tooling thatâ€™s been replaced and set up new factories should pay dividends. Two or three years from now we could be ready.â€

â€œSo right around the time the Clans would have resumed the invasion anyway.â€

â€œYes.â€ Victor hesitated. â€œAnd when that time comes, I expect Vlad Ward will attack us. He as good as said that the Wolves still count the truce as binding, not the Refusal Trials on Strana Mechty. So we may be back on the defense again then.â€

Peter nodded unhappily but then smiled. â€œOn the other hand, that would leave the Jade Falcons caught between us and Clan Wolf, wouldnâ€™t it.â€

Victor snorted. â€œItâ€™s an ill-wind that blows no one good.â€

Chapter 4
Resaurius Keep, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
10 November 3064

The archaic curtain walls of Resaurius wouldnâ€™t have kept out any serious military force but they were a decent windbreak, something Alys Marik appreciated given the cutting north wind that was sweeping across central Bremen at the moment. She pushed her hood back but regretted it - even here the temperature was by no means mild.

Her cousin must have been out for a while already, a long scarf wrapped repeatedly around her neck and lower face not hiding the ruddy hue of her cheeks. â€œDuchess Marik,â€ she greeted Alys formally.

â€œPlease, Isis. Weâ€™re cousins, surely we can use our actual names.â€ Alys forced a smile. â€œBesides, everytime someone calls me â€˜her grace of Augustineâ€™ I start looking around for my mother.â€

â€œAnd then you remember.â€

Alys hid a flinch as that cut a little too close. But she was here to win Isis over - disingenuity would hardly serve that goal. â€œAnd then I remember.â€

Isis gestured towards a bench. â€œWould you rather sit down? Or we could go inside. Tharkad takes some getting used to.â€

â€œI wouldnâ€™t say no to going inside,â€ Alys agreed. â€œYouâ€™ve been here for what, five months now?â€

â€œEight now. It gets even colder than this up on the glaciers.â€

â€œI have done arctic training.â€ She pushed her fingers into the pockets of her overcoat and rubbed them against each other. She should have brought gloves. Then she did the mental math about that date. â€œYou came in with Prince Victorâ€™s force? I thought youâ€™d arrived after Tharkad was secured.â€

Isis opened a door into one of the towers and ushered Alys inside. â€œWell I didnâ€™t come down with the actual combat troops, but I was with his headquarters unit and after we were pushed off Heidelberg there was nowhere to go except northern Bremen.â€ She pressed the button on a discreet intercom. â€œMr. Overgaag, could my guest and I have some hot chocolate? Weâ€™re in the western tower lounge.â€

â€œOf course, maâ€™am.â€

â€œThe hot chocolate they make here is fantastic,â€ Isis confided, letting go of the intercom.

â€œIâ€™d expect the Archon-Prince can afford the best,â€ Alys said, a little more sourly than sheâ€™d intended.

Isis started unwinding her scarf. â€œLetâ€™s be honest, Alys, neither of us really had a deprived childhood. But thatâ€™s not what bothers you about Peter Steiner-Davion, is it?â€

â€œNo.â€ She looked away for a moment. â€œIntellectually I know he wasnâ€™t responsible for what happened to my family. It was his sisterâ€™s orders and heâ€¦â€

Her cousin stepped forwards and took her hands. â€œItâ€™s true that many in the FedCom have lost family and friends to this war, Peter no less than others, but that doesnâ€™t make Aunt Kristen and your familyâ€™s deaths any kinder.â€

â€œI know.â€ Alys watched their interlinked hands for a moment. â€œI should thank youâ€¦ I do thank you, for having Anaâ€™s body recovered on Coventry.â€

â€œIt was the least I could do.â€

â€œThe least you could have done, was nothing,â€ Alys corrected her. â€œYou did more than your father did.â€

That got a blink from Isis and she let go of Alysâ€™ hands as the door opened and a servant brought in a tray with two mugs, a steaming jug and several smaller containers of condiments. â€œYour hot chocolate, maâ€™am.â€

â€œThank you, Gracia.â€ Isis accepted the platter and placed it on the roomâ€™s table before filling the two mugs from the jug. â€œHow do you take your hot chocolate, Alys?â€

â€œWith marshmallows,â€ she replied and gathered her composure as Isis spooned tiny marshmallows into one mug, adding cream to her own. â€œIsis, are you planning to remain here in the Federated Commonwealth?â€

â€œIâ€™d probably be imposing if I stayed forever but I have limited alternatives.â€ She handed Alys hot-chocolate and sat down facing her. â€œThe Captain-General has invited me to return to the Free Worlds League but Iâ€™m uncertain of my welcome.â€

â€œPlease be assured of my welcome.â€ Alys sipped the hot chocolate and found it quite as fine as her cousin had promised. â€œAnd of Aunt Therese.â€

â€œThe two of you are close then?â€

Alys paused. â€œWe have mutual interests, but I think we would be closer than most of the House without that,â€ she admitted. â€œWhile I was a cadet, mother signed over guardianship to her since it wasnâ€™t practical to fill that role when she was with the Krushers in the Lyran Alliance.â€

â€œTamarind isnâ€™t all that close to Oriente,â€ pointed out Isis.

â€œNo, but she visited me every year and stayed in contact by HPG. Not quite as if I was her own daughter, but stillâ€¦â€ Alys smiled ruefully. â€œSheâ€™s no saint, I wonâ€™t claim that, and she holds grudges likeâ€¦ well, a Marik.â€

â€œSomewhat like grandfather, or so Iâ€™ve heard.â€

â€œIâ€™d not want her to hear that, but thereâ€™s some truth to that.â€

Isis sank back into the cushions of her couch. â€œWe both know why Iâ€™m here, cousin. But what brings you to Tharkad - a good Free Worlds League girl? You could be on Tamarind with Aunt Therese, on Augustine taking up the reins of the Krushers and your duchy or on Atreus, swimming through the muck of politics.â€

â€œIâ€™m here to accept Peter Steiner-Davionâ€™s apologies for the deaths of my family and bring Ana home.â€

â€œYou could have met the coffin at the border, and I know you could have had a formal public apology delivered by HPG.â€ Isis leant forwards. â€œI know the official reasons, Alys. But Iâ€™d like the real reason, if you please.â€

She hesitated and then answered. â€œIâ€™m here to keep an imposter from sitting on the Star Lordâ€™s throne.â€

Isis raised an eyebrow. â€œThere isnâ€™t a literal throne, you know. Or rather, itâ€™s on Terra in the decaying remains of Unity City and so far as I know the Word of Blake have continued ComStarâ€™s policy of keeping the area sealed.â€

Alys blinked. Isis hadnâ€™t asked who the imposter was. â€œYou know thatâ€¦?â€

â€œVictor told me some time ago that Joshua and I had no significant blood relationship. Since my paternity was checked when father was presumed dead in the same bomb that killed his father and Joshuaâ€™s identity as the Captain-Generalâ€™s child has never been in doubt.â€ Isis spread her hands. â€œBasic maths. Besides, he told me earlier this week.â€

â€œAnd you accepted it?â€

â€œWhat am I supposed to do? Itâ€™s not as if heâ€™s ever been particularly paternal towards me. Neither he nor my real father wanted me. Itâ€™s just that theyâ€™re two different men.â€ Isis smiled wryly. â€œHeâ€™s supposed to be alive, by the way. If it makes a difference.â€

â€œReally?â€ Alys hadnâ€™t expected the conversation to follow this path. â€œThen if he survived the bomb then whyâ€¦?â€

â€œI donâ€™t remember, of course, but there was serious concern back in 3036 when he returned to take the Captain-Generalâ€™s throne that heâ€™d survived through cybernetic reconstruction. Parliament demanded medical examinations to verify they werenâ€™t electing someone who was, in that trite old phrase, â€˜more machine than manâ€™.â€ Isis smirked slightly. â€œI suppose they should have worried more about his DNA but it might have been a deliberate redirection. I assume that my biological father is substantially mechanical.â€

The thought sent a shudder through Alys. â€œHow horrible.â€

â€œI find it hard to care.â€ Isis topped up her mug from the jug. â€œAnd how do you plan to prevent him from becoming First Star Lord?â€

â€œIâ€™d intended to tell the Archon-Prince who he was dealing with - but if his brother knows, then he must know.â€

â€œIâ€™d expect so.â€

â€œThen why hasnâ€™t he done anything?â€ Alys demanded.

Isis smiled tolerantly. â€œLike what? House Marik nominated him and I assume that at least some of our elders knew about the substitution - Uncle Paul, for example. And Parliament elected him, so it would take a war to oust him. Why should the Star League commit to that? Itâ€™s an internal matter.â€

â€œThen Iâ€™ve wasted my time.â€

â€œNot necessarily. You do have your sisterâ€™s body, you have the chance to make connections hereâ€¦â€ Isis paused. â€œAnd while I doubt the Steiner-Davions care very much about his authenticity, stressing the tensions over his identity could make him less of an ideal choice. Who would elect a First Star Lord who might not even rule his own realm by the end of his time in office? Or who might try to use the SLDF to prop up his position?â€

â€œThe way Sun-Tzu used them against St Ives?â€

â€œOr Theodore in the Lyons Thumb. Letâ€™s be honest, no First Lord so far has kept his hands entirely clean.â€ Isis wrapped her fingers around the mug. â€œThere are five available votes - so unless someone abstains ComStar wonâ€™t matter. And I doubt theyâ€™d vote for someone so tied to the Word of Blake anyway. You canâ€™t expect the Captain-General to vote against himself, so you need to persuade three of the other four to oppose him.â€

â€œI see.â€ She frowned. Sun-Tzu would probably be a touchy subject and she wasnâ€™t sure if Isis had ever spent significant time with the Rasalhague Regent or the Coordinator. â€œDo you have any suggestions on how to convince the Archon-Prince?â€

â€œWell donâ€™t start by through to push his name forward as a counter-proposal,â€ Isis began. She tilted her head back, eyes focusing a little above Alys as she thought. â€œHeâ€™s like his brother in that he doesnâ€™t really want the job and heâ€™s quite busy enough stitching his parentsâ€™ realm back together. Thatâ€™s probably the best approach in fact, convince him that making Thomas Marik the First Star Lord would mean more work for him than the alternatives.â€

â€œHe doesnâ€™t want to be First Star Lord?â€ Alys found it hard to believe.

â€œI donâ€™t think Peter really expected to end the Civil War in charge of the Federated Commonwealth, and heâ€™s ruling something like three times as many worlds and people as the Captain-General does. Even for a confirmed workaholic like Victor, that was a bit much and Peter isnâ€™t quite as driven but heâ€™s putting in fourteen to sixteen hour days right now and looking forward to the end of the Conference so he can hopefully take a weekend off. The last thing he wants right now is more responsibility.â€ Isis paused. â€œGive him a few more years to build up a staff he can trust with some of the work and to get used to the role and perhaps that may change. But right now thereâ€™s no way he could get the votes anyway and heâ€™s realistic enough to know that.â€

Alys had to keep her jaw from slackening. Sheâ€™d thought her older cousin was more of a social butterfly than a substantial politician but sheâ€™d been able to deliver a cogent analysis despite clearly not having considered the matter before. â€œYouâ€™re very good at this.â€

â€œIâ€™ve learned that I need a better grasp on peopleâ€™s motives.â€

â€œCan I persuade you to come back to Augustine with me? I could do with a political advisor.â€

Her cousinâ€™s smile was more of a grin. â€œIf I do decide to return to the League, Iâ€™ll have my own Duchy.â€

â€œYou do?â€ Alys was sure sheâ€™d have heard if Isis had substantial estates in her own right.

â€œItâ€™s in the nature of a bribe. The Captain-General offered me the Duchy of Irian.â€

â€œI thought Irian Technologies owned the planet outright and the dukes were just figureheads.â€

Isis nodded. â€œThatâ€™s my own understanding - the title comes with estates there though, as well as a nice block of IrTech shares so itâ€™s not an entirely empty title. And thereâ€™s a certain cachet to being a Duchess.â€

â€œYes, I donâ€™t think Sigsmund Hughes would be pleased.â€

â€œThe CEO of IrTech? No, I think he blocked the last attempt to appoint a new Duke by suing the federal government for trademark infringement.â€ She saw Isis smile at the very idea and couldnâ€™t help but match it. Only in the Free Worlds League. â€œI imagine the Captain-General would think Iâ€™d be distracted fighting Hughes in the courts,â€ Isis continued. â€œI have a few ideas how to deal with that but Iâ€™m not sure yet if itâ€™s a fight worth taking part in.â€

Chapter 5
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
12 November 3064

The Triadâ€™s ballroom had been the site of both the previous Whitting Conferences and the layout had become something of a tradition already, with a podium and tables for the assembled lords forming a circle. That circle had grown a little tighter when the St Ives Compact was... reunited... with the Capellan Confederation and now another table had been removed with the reunion of the Lyran Alliance and the Federated Commonwealth.

The original six seats of the First Star League had probably been something like this, Peter thought, before they moved into the purpose-built chamber in Unity City. Back before the Reunification War. The next triennial Conference would take place only a few days after the five hundredth anniversary of the Federated Suns agreed to join the nascent Star League although the date it became official was either two or four years later: when the Draconis Combine agreed to join or the day the Star League Accords had actually been signed.

â€œIâ€™m honoured to be invited to return to command of the SLDF,â€ his brother said from the podium. He wore an AFFC Field Marshalâ€™s uniform now - without prompting, wonders would never cease. â€œHowever, itâ€™s been made clear to me that the problems of the Federated Commonwealth are in part of my making and I have a responsibility to make them right. As such, returning to the SLDF is something I couldnâ€™t honourably do at this time.â€

Victor bowed his head humbly. â€œI can assure you though, that Hohiro Kurita has done a fine job commanding the SLDF in my absence and I commend him to you as Commanding General in his own right.â€

Peter glanced across the circle at Theodore Kurita and gave a slight nod, confirming that this was his position as well. The Coordinator glanced at his eldest son and then returned the nod.

â€œShall we vote on the appointment?â€ asked Thomas Marik, looking around as he rather blatantly played arbiter of the conversation. â€œOr does anyone wish to speak on General Kuritaâ€™s qualifications?â€

No one spoke up and the Captain-General cast his vote in favour, which made the matter a closed deal with both Peter and Theodore adding their vote. General Mansdottir voted in favour as well and Sun-Tzu abstained, which heâ€™d done more often than not in the Conference. Peter took that to be a sign that Catherine was right about his moving to disengage the Capellan Confederation from the Star League now that heâ€™d milked it for all the benefits he was likely to get.

Hohiro Kurita moved from the seat next to his father to replace Victor at the podium, the two friends shaking hands amicably before Victor moved back to sit in one of the chairs at the Federated Commonwealth table.

â€œThank you for the vote of confidence,â€ Hohiro began, setting a noteputer on the podium. â€œIâ€™m honoured to be named as the Commanding General. Iâ€™d like to continue todayâ€™s discussions by touching on the expansion of the SLDF.â€

Peter nodded. â€œPlease continue, General Kurita.â€

â€œThe original intention for the SLDF was to gradually build up towards something resembling the organisation of original SLDF - brigades, divisions and even corps of troops - a plan which would take a considerable length of time.â€ Hohiro cleared his throat. â€œAfter extended discussions with General Trevana, Iâ€™ve come to the conclusion that not only would the timescale for this be unrealistic but it would also fail to recognise both the very different logistical situation of the modern SLDF and the lessons all our militaries have learned through the Succession Wars and the Clan Invasion.â€

â€œMay I ask what you propose instead?â€ asked the Captain-General - who along with the bored-looking Sun-Tzu Liao hadnâ€™t been consulted on this. To be fair, Hohiro hadnâ€™t approached Peter either but Victor had filled him in.

â€œAt the moment, the SLDF includes the Eridani Light Horse, the Royal Black Watch regiment and the First Royal BattleMech regiment, effectively six BattleMech regiments with varying degrees of conventional support. Over the next three years, Iâ€™m proposing to reorganise and expand this into a pair of Regimental Combat Teams, each made up of four combined arms brigades. Each of these brigades will be built around a BattleMech regiment - or at least a â€˜Mech-heavy combined arms regiment - a supporting infantry or at least infantry-heavy regiment and a support command of armour, artillery, aerospace and other specialised assets.â€

â€œMuch like a Draconis Combine combat brigade then?â€ asked Alys Marik from where she was seated next to her â€˜uncleâ€™.

â€œSimilarly, Duchess Marik.â€ Hohiro inclined his head slightly. â€œThe Eridani Light Horse would retain their traditional designation as the Third SLDF RCT, while the Black Watch and the First Royals will form the core of the First SLDF Royal RCT, joined by two additional brigades. In the long term, we envisage dividing the First RCT to create a Second RCT with one spearheaded by the First Royals and the other by the Black Watch.â€

Peter rubbed his jaw. â€œI like it, the strong infantry contingent would serve the SLDF well in the peacekeeper roles theyâ€™ve been called on for in their recent history and the units are small enough to be strategically flexible.â€

â€œThank you, your highness.â€

â€œHow do you propose to pay for this expansion?â€ Sun-Tzu asked in a disinterested tone, as if he could barely be bothered to enquire. â€œI see no military threat to justify further contributions towards this military build-up.â€

Peter restrained himself from a snort at the hypocrisy of the former First Lord whoâ€™d used the SLDF as peacekeepers in the neighbouring St Ives Compact and then replaced them with his own troops in a creeping invasion.

If Hohiro felt similarly, the new Commanding General didnâ€™t condescend to show it. â€œOver the last three years, much of the material budget of the SLDF has gone to replacing equipment lost in Operation Serpentâ€¦ and similarly the personnel budget into rebuilding lost manpower. Weâ€™re now receiving a steady flow of recruits from the Focht War College on Tukayyid and our equipment stockpiles are sufficient to begin assembling the proposed Second BattleMech Regiment next year, with the Third to follow in 3066.â€

â€œThe College provides freshly trained personnel.â€ Ragnar Magnusson was seated next to his Regent at Rasalhagueâ€™s table but heâ€™d spoken rarely so far. â€œDo you have enough experienced personnel to stiffen them in the new units?â€

â€œIn addition to the college, our recruiters have had an influx of new applications on Galatea and Outreach.â€ Hohiro tapped his noteputer, clearly changing pages. â€œThe majority of the increase comes from former AFFC and LAAF soldiers discharged over the last twelve months.â€

â€œYour soldiers are voting with your feet?â€ Sun-Tzu asked snidely.

â€œThere are also a number of soldiers from worlds once part of the Sarna March whoâ€™ve chosen not to take Capellan service,â€ Hohiro continued, causing Sun-Tzu to subside and trigger some less than discreet snickers among those further from the tables. â€œWhile some additional training in SLDF doctrine and equipment will be required, we expect to be able to stand up the infantry regiments and most of the two support commands before the end of 3065.â€

â€œBattleMechs will take longer then?â€

â€œYes, Captain-General. The main restraint there is in purchasing new BattleMechs. We have sufficient funds but most major manufacturers are prioritising their national militaries. With the exception of your own realm and Rasalhague, recent military action has left them rebuilding.â€ He paused. â€œItâ€™s not clear why your own manufacturers are so heavily booked.â€

â€œIâ€™d imagine that with other nations restricting sales that weâ€™re receiving increased demand from mercenary units,â€ Marik replied.

â€œIf we can avoid further conflict amongst ourselves, Iâ€™d imagine the situation will stabilise in a year or two.â€ Peter folded his hands and leant forwards to rest his chin on then. â€œBut it should be feasible for most of us to set aside a company or two of new â€˜Mechs for the SLDF, surely. That should permit the Second SLDF BattleMech regiment to form on schedule.â€

â€œGiven your realmâ€™s much vaunted military-industrial complex, Iâ€™m sure youâ€™d like a larger share of the Star League tax money,â€ Sun-Tzu grumbled.

Peter didnâ€™t bother to restrain his expression. â€œIf I suggested that all five members provide twenty-four â€˜Mechs youâ€™d complain that I was putting disproportionate load on your realm, but if we go with proportions based on relative size then Iâ€™m pork-barrelling? Thereâ€™s really no pleasing you, Chancellor.â€

â€œThatâ€™s enough,â€ Theodore said firmly. â€œSuch squabbling ill-befits the Star League Council.â€ He looked back to his son. â€œIf you could have the SLDFâ€™s projected needs circulated to our staffs, each lord can see what they might be able to award priority with their native manufacturers.â€

â€œOf course, sir.â€ Hohiro tapped once more on his noteputer. â€œIf an agreement in principle can be agreed then purchasing officers could travel to each state along with the council delegations as they return home. The sooner the arrangements are locked in, the sooner we can begin bringing the Second SLDF brigade to combat readiness.â€

Peter made a note to himself as well. Resupplying the AFFC was going well but replacing soldiers - both those killed and those whoâ€™d chosen discharge over continuing to serve or even retirement to their homeworldsâ€™ militias - was going to be a slow process. Lowering standards could have sped the process up but the cost of that could be severe in combat effectiveness so it was looking as if it wouldnâ€™t be until the current freshmen in various academies graduated that frontline forces would be back at their full notional strength.

As a result, finding a few companies of BattleMechs shouldnâ€™t be impossible over the next year. Heâ€™d set working groups to assessing variants currently in production to try to cut down the enormous variety of designs being churned out and focus on â€˜Mechs that had solid performance to back their use. The uncertainty over what they should be building had set some of the smaller manufacturers back so contracting for a few of what they were already building - and in the case of those competing for grants to set up secondary facilities, smooth feathers.

Heâ€™d see what Hohiro had in mind.

â€œThomas is covering for something,â€ Victor murmured. â€œMost of the mercenary commands these days are leaning on independent manufacturers like Outreach. If anything the Leagueâ€™s share of that market is diminishing.â€

â€œSo whereâ€™s the equipment going?â€ asked Peter quietly, half-turning as the Captain-General engaged Hohiro with questions about possibly seeing an SLDF deployment to halt the ongoing conflicts between the periphery states near his border. There wasnâ€™t a chance in hell of that getting approved so it was almost certainly just playing for the holo-cameras.

Victor glanced significantly towards William Blane, the Blakist representation in the Free Worlds League delegation. â€œEven now that they control Terra, the Word of Blake is receiving a double-digit percentage of the Leagueâ€™s military manufacture.â€

What were they doing with that? Peter wondered. Terra was by its nature a threat poised to sever the Terran corridor if the Blakists decided to turn against the Federated Commonwealth. And so little was known of their military strength that planning counter-measures was an exercise in speculation. In the worst case, adding ten percent of the Leagueâ€™s production to any factories restored on Terra could easily bring them up to the size of ComGuards given a few more years.

We need to know more, he decided. This isnâ€™t something I can afford to ignore.

Abele · « **Reply #22 on:** July 15, 2019, 08:14:59 AM »

By golly that was a long read. Well don, drak

Takiro · « **Reply #23 on:** July 15, 2019, 10:25:19 PM »

Man, I gotta catch up!

drakensis · « **Reply #24 on:** July 16, 2019, 01:26:11 AM »

Chapter 6
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
15 November 3064

Kitsune Kurita had discovered the joy of snowmen - or more specifically of snow samurai. While he was quite creative in shaping snow into the shape of armour, swords had proven beyond his expertise and big pleading eyes hadnâ€™t convinced his mother, his father or his uncle that he could be trusted with the decorative blades mounted on some of the Triadâ€™s chambers - so he had to make do with curved branches. Despite this he was proud to show them off and Isis sat on a bench next to Omi as children ran and screamed at each other among the formation of snow samurai with joyful abandon.

â€œSo there it is,â€ Isis wrapped explaining her dilemma. â€œIâ€™m not sure what I should do.â€

Omi nodded thoughtfully, not answering immediately.

â€œOne thing I have realised is that simply staying with Victorâ€™s staff or at Peterâ€™s court isnâ€™t an optionâ€¦ or rather, they arenâ€™t options I wish to take. Iâ€™d simply beâ€¦ well, what some of the extreme radicals say about the noble class: a parasite, surviving only on the back of others.â€

Omi glanced sideways at that point. â€œThey say such things in the League?â€

â€œOh yes. And here in the Federated Commonwealth.â€

â€œRemarkable.â€ The Kurita shook her head slightly. â€œIt occurs to me that you last left Atreus not so very long after we first met. A little more than a year later?â€

â€œMore or less,â€ agreed Isis. Sheâ€™d been almost seventeen when sheâ€™d been invited to Outreach along with the other rulers and heirs of the Inner Sphere. â€œI was youngerâ€¦ less mature, then than I thought I was.â€

â€œYes. Youâ€™ve grown considerably, and I suspect many on Atreus still envisage the younger you, rather than the woman youâ€™ve grown into.â€

The younger woman thought for a moment. â€œI suppose that's trueâ€¦ the latter, at least. Iâ€™m not sure Iâ€™ve changed all that much.â€

â€œFrom my perspective, you have. I suspect neither your father nor your cousin quite understand who they are inviting. Where that may lead, I could not tell you. But I diverge from your implied question.â€ Omi pursed her lips. â€œSetting aside whatever you have been offered in this specific case, Isis, what do you want? In all the universe, what is it that you desire?â€

Isis blinked at the question. â€œAnything?â€

â€œYes. Not what youâ€™ve wanted in the past, not constrained to any reasonable expectations, not even what you might want in the future. What, right now, would satisfy you?â€

She blinked again and frowned in thought. â€œIâ€¦ Iâ€™m not sure. I hadnâ€™t thought about in those terms.â€

â€œTake your time.â€ She received a gentle smile from Omi. â€œThis isnâ€™t a test, but when you know the answer, youâ€™ll -â€

There was a cry of alarm and surprise from Kit as, ducking under someoneâ€™s snowball, the little boy failed to get his feet back under him and went sprawling. He didnâ€™t seem hurt at first glance from Isis, but his face was reddening - possibly at the laughter of the other children.

â€œExcuse me.â€ Omi rose and strode over towards her son, a mildly concerned look on her face.

Although she wouldnâ€™t be seen, Isis nodded understanding and turned the question over in her head. What did she want? Well, perhaps see what she had wanted before and see if it was still relevant?

Her fatherâ€™s love or at least attention? Well that was a bad joke, given heâ€™d never met her and his replacement considered her more an obligation than an attachment. And a tool, of course. Although to be fair, most dynastic lords and ladies had to consider their children in that light to some extent.

The attention of the other heirs, back when she was on Outreach? Sheâ€™d got that alright, but not in ways sheâ€™d expected or desired. Being a teenager might explain her behaviour but not excuse it, even to herself. She should have raised her goals to being respected by themâ€¦ from the way Victor had treated her since Mogyorodâ€¦ not her arrival but that night with the assassin, that was something worth having. Although respect from a mere handful of peopleâ€¦ well, again sheâ€™d set her sights too low but it was too late now.

That gave her the niggle of an idea but before that she faced the third thing sheâ€™d wanted, the goal sheâ€™d followed for most of a decade. Sun-Tzu. No. Just no.

So, what else? Nothing seemed worth mentioning, which was a sad thing after almost thirty years. Her regrets were events impossible to reverse so however open-ended Omiâ€™s question had been, Isis discarded them.

Returning to her thought of a moment ago, she considered it. Raising her goals. Aspire to respect, not just attention. Affection, perhaps in time. She couldnâ€™t help but envy Omi a little for the bound that she and Victor clearly shared - not that she intended to try to raise her goals from Sun-Tzu in that way. Setting aside that it would be immensely satisfying to see Sun-Tzuâ€™s face on learning sheâ€™d married Victor, it would be a rotten thing to do to Omi and far too much like the ass sheâ€™d made of herself on Outreach. Anyway, Victor had to all practical purposes given up his throne to be with Omi. Isis doubted sheâ€™d even register in comparison.

Still, it gave her something she wanted almost as much as respect. She wanted that sort of relationship, someone in her life she could share experiences with. It couldnâ€™t be that hard, could it? The vast majority of adult humans managed relations and at least she was past the years of immaturity.

There were certainly plenty of men around. Sheâ€™d not really been looking, the wounds of Sun-Tzuâ€™s rejection had been too raw, but perhaps it was time to set that aside.

It didnâ€™t really relate to whether she went back to the League. Even if she was penniless, many noble families would overlook that for the chance to add â€˜-Marikâ€™ to their surnames and have a claim, however tenuous, against the Captain-Generalâ€™s throne. It would be an awful reason to get married though, and not the sort of relationship she wanted at all.

And, being honest with herself, it would irk her, Isis realised. She didnâ€™t want to stay a poor relation. To be someone pushed around by those with power. She wantedâ€¦ not so much power as much as the independence that it could confer. Right now she had only such freedoms as those Peter Steiner-Davion granted her, because without his protection there was no assurance that SAFE or someone else might whisk her away.

And powerâ€¦ didnâ€™t necessarily translate to respect, but it could contribute.

Something that William Blane had said to her once came to mind. It had been during one interminable ball on Atreus where the then only-recently-ComStar Precentor of Gibson had taken a moment to speak to her. It had been right before the engagement to Sun-Tzu and in hindsight, Blane had probably been more focused on putting himself forward as the head of the forming Word of Blake than anything Isis herself said, but remaining at least a little friendly with the then heir presumptive.

Sheâ€™d brashly asked him about the still only rumoured tales of ComStarâ€™s deep scheming and many plots over the centuries and Blane had chuckled (at least in her recollection, a little patronisingly). â€˜My dear girl, if the Succession Wars have taught us anything, itâ€™s that no one takes you seriously unless youâ€™re at least trying to take over the Inner Sphere.â€™

Not that she particularly wanted the Inner Sphere - or even the Free Worlds League - but there was some merit to it. Property and a title would give far more weight to her words than her surname alone.

â€œItâ€™s not as if Iâ€™d even have to govern the place,â€ she mused to herself.

â€œI didnâ€™t quite catch that,â€ Omi enquired with a mild look.

Omi looked up and saw her friend returning to the bench. Behind her Kit was playing again as if the fall had never happened. â€œOh, sorry. I was thinking about your question.â€

â€œYou donâ€™t have to tell me anything personal, but has it helped at all?â€

â€œYes, I think it has.â€

Omi nodded but didnâ€™t say anything, just turning and sitting.

After a moment, partly to fill the silence and partly to test the waters, Isis added: â€œPerhaps itâ€™s shallow, but the idea of having a home, money and a title does appeal to me. Peterâ€™s very kind about supporting me, but Iâ€™d rather stand on my own feet.â€

â€œThatâ€™s quite understandable. And while youâ€™re certainly welcome to come back to Luthien with me, the same would be true there.â€

â€œQuite.â€ Isis smiled slightly. â€œAnd I canâ€™t ask either of you for a duchy.â€

â€œI donâ€™t even have one of my own,â€ Omi told her indulgently. â€œBut if you decide to take one and I ever visit the Free Worlds League, perhaps I can impose on you?â€

â€œOf course.â€

They sat a moment longer in a less expectant silence and then Omi leaned over and scooped up a handful of snow, moulding it in her gloved hands.

â€œWhat are you doing?â€

â€œMaking a snowball?â€

â€œWhy?â€

â€œTo throw it, of course.â€ Omi glanced at Isis with a serene smile then eyed a gate into the yard. She weighed the snowball carefully and then flung it up on a high arc towards the gate as it began to swing open.

The snowball splattered on the shoulder of Victor Steiner-Davionâ€™s immaculate Field Marshalâ€™s uniform and he paused in the doorway. The short prince swept the yard with sharp eyes, lingering on Omi for a moment - Isis was amused to see that the Kurita folded her hands to hide the traces of snow on her gloves - and then at the children.

â€œWho threw that?â€ Victor asked mildly.

The children all looked at each other, clearly mystified. Kit even hid the snowball in his hand behind his back for a moment.

â€œWell then.â€ And then the conqueror of the Clans reached over to a snowbank and began deliberately packing his own snowball together. â€œThis means war.â€ He didnâ€™t manage to throw his own snowball before one of the other children had the boldness to throw their own at him.

Isis gave Omi a disbelieving look and got an amused look of satisfaction in return.

Chapter 7
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
17 November 3064

To some the election of the First Star Lord might have seemed a minor event, given the largely honorary nature of the role. Even under the First Star League, the post had been first among equals and the margin of distinction had been shaved razor thin nowâ€¦ but to men and women whose ancestors had fought for generations over the title, securing was a very real political prize.

â€œI believe we should elect the new First Lord before discussing the admission of new members,â€ Theodore Kurita began. â€œIt would be best for the First Lord welcoming to be the one who they will be working with over the years of their provisional membership.â€ And since they would be provisional members with no vote until the next Whitting Conference, their attendance wouldnâ€™t change the election.

Sun-Tzu Liao steepled his fingers. â€œShouldnâ€™t they at least have their say, even if they cannot vote on the matter?â€

â€œTrying to win points from his allies?â€ asked Victor in a low voice from next to Peter. â€œHe canâ€™t be elected himself.â€

Peter shrugged. â€œBoth positions have merit,â€ he told the rest of the council diplomatically. â€œWhatâ€™s your feeling, Captain-General?â€

â€œOn balance, I believe representation of their interests sends a better signal, Lord Steiner-Davion. And it is, of course, the originally scheduled agenda.â€

â€œLet us by all means not confuse the schedule.â€ Peter said, rubbing his jaw. â€œDo you wish a formal vote, First Lord?â€

â€œNo, I concede the point.â€ Theodore shook his head. â€œVery well, we have before us the motion to admit the Taurian Concordat as a member of the Star League on a provisional basis for the next three years, to be elevated to a full member or expelled from membership at the first meeting of the Fourth Whitting Conference. Protector Shraplen has signed the treaty today, is it your will to accept Taurian membership?â€

The decision was unanimous, it had been discussed already and copies of the treaty were placed before each lord to sign and then pass to their left, until all the copies had been signed. The tables had already been rearranged so some of the treaties had to be carried by the left-most aide at a table past a vacant space.

The first space was filled as Grover Shraplen was invited to take his seat, followed by the rest of the Taurian delegation, and then the entire dance was repeated with Emma Centrella on behalf of the Magistracy of Canopus.

â€œAre we sure that the Word of Blake shouldnâ€™t be admitted on the same basis?â€ asked Thomas Marik mildly before the third member was put to the vote. â€œAn advisory membership like ComStarâ€™s may be less than equitable since we have all recognised the Word as the legitimate government of Terra.â€

â€œComStarâ€™s advisory position is on the basis of our neutrality,â€ observed Gavin Dow from the ComStar desk. As had become traditional, the Precentor Martial spoke for the organisation when it came to the Star League Council with the Primus not even attending. â€œIf the Word of Blake wish to assert that they arenâ€™t neutral then full membership may be offered, but in that case, would you trust them with your communications.â€

â€œI already do,â€ Thomas pointed out, but other people behind the Free Worlds League desk seemed less sanguine.

Theodore shook his head. â€œThis has already been discussed. Your votes please.â€

Dow would clearly have voted against ComStarâ€™s rivals being admitted but even with Sun-Tzu abstaining there were four votes in favour so ComStar wouldnâ€™t be called on to break a tie today. William Blane moved from the table from the Free Worlds League to take the central seat at the one bearing the banner of the Word of Blake, joined by aides and advisors who - according to Peterâ€™s briefings - represented at least four different factions within the organisation.

â€œAnd with our last business prior to the election cleared,â€ declared Theodore, â€œI formally relinquish the position of the First Lord so that my successor can be elected.â€

Peter had missed the last election but heâ€™d seen pictures and the last three years had aged Theodore markedly. Whether that was serving as First Lord or not was had to say - he had fought two wars, even if one had been undeclared - but on balance it was most likely losing his wife during the war with the Ghost Bears that had worn him down. She hadnâ€™t even died in battle, sheâ€™d committed seppuku after half her regimental commanders decided that Coordinatorâ€™s wife or not they couldnâ€™t accept that a woman was competent to plan an offensive.

One more sign that the â€˜bad old daysâ€™ of the Combine were by no means as far away as Victor thought, in Peterâ€™s opinion. Theodore had certainly handled it like his father had, by inviting them to commit seppuku in the gardens of the Imperial Palace. With chopsticks rather than their swords, according to some reason. Then again, his grandfather would have probably just lined them up against a wall and had them shot so that was progress, after a fashion.

â€œMay I be the first to thank you for your distinguished service in the position,â€ Thomas offered as Theodore returned from the podium and Gavin Dow replaced him. The Coordinator chose to dignify the blatant flattery with only a polite nod.

â€œSun-Tzu made a point of nominating Katherine as his successor,â€ Victor recalled. â€œHe wanted it to be a tradition. Glad to see that Theodore isnâ€™t continuing it.â€

â€œLadies and gentlemen.â€ Dow cut straight to business, not consulting any notes. Then again, it wasnâ€™t a great feat of memory. â€œWho is nominated for the office of First Lord?â€

Christian Mansdottir cleared his throat. â€œI think the candidate is obvious, my lords. Tharkad has hosted these deliberations three times now and Prince Victor led the SLDF to victory over the Clans. Surely we owe it to House Steiner-Davion that their leader should hold the office.â€

There was a muted chuckle from the Liao desk and all heads turned towards the Chancellor. The thin man waved his hand dismissively. â€œPlease continue, General. I will be most interested in how you credit the Archon-Prince with affairs none of his doing.â€

Peter rose to his feet. â€œI am honoured by the nomination, Lord Mansdottir, and I hope to live up to your high expectations. Nonetheless, my realm is currently recovering from a Civil War and I am only a few months into my reign. It is quite understandable that some of the Council will wish longer to take my measure before entrusting me with the responsibilities of First Lord. Rather than prolong the debate, I ask that you withdraw the nomination. If you still feel me worthy in three years then I would count it as high praise.â€

The Rasalhaguan nodded. â€œYour humility does you credit and I believe you underestimate yourself, Lord Steiner-Davion, but I will accept your preference in this matter.â€

â€œIâ€™m pretty sure Theodore would have backed you,â€ Victor muttered.

â€œI doubt it.â€ Peter glanced across at the Coordinator. â€œIâ€™m not his son-in-law in all but name and I didnâ€™t quash James Sandoval, which makes him neither personally nor politically inclined to back me. And I donâ€™t really need the extra work.â€

And without Theodoreâ€™s support, heâ€™d need either Thomas or Sun-Tzu to vote for him. Neither seemed likely and any price for their support wouldnâ€™t really be worth it for what was a mostly honorary post. Katrina had campaigned relentlessly to secure the post and that wasnâ€™t an example he wanted to follow. Besides, three years wasnâ€™t that long.

The Magestrix of Canopus cleared her throat. â€œI believe I am free to make a nomination,â€ she said in a throaty voice, â€œalthough I have no vote as yet.â€

Dow nodded. â€œThat is correct, Magestrix.â€

Emma looked around the chamber before speaking further. â€œWhile it may concern certain of my late motherâ€™s allies in Andurien, I wish to nominate Captain-General Thomas Marik. He has proven an able administrator and war leader over almost thirty years, a record to be respected, and he is the only lord on this council still holding his seat from the First Whitting Conference who has not thus far held the position. It seems reasonable to redress this.â€

Sun-Tzu chuckled again. â€œDue to personal issues between myself and House Marik, I abstain on this nomination.â€ He rose to his feet. â€œIn fact, I abstain entirely from this matter. Elect who you please - and as this is the last matter to be debated, I will withdraw to my quarters. I have a long voyage back to Sian and wish to be well-rested.â€

Emma stared at her neighbour, a â€˜was it something I saidâ€™ look in her eyes for an instant. She either hadnâ€™t been forewarned of this or was an excellent actor. It could be either. On the other side of the Capellan table, Grover Shraplen broke off from a thoughtful examination of Peter and seemed similarly unsettled as the Chancellor left the ballroom, trailed by the other Capellans present.

Whatever Sun-Tzu was up to - and he was far too skilled a politician not to be up to something - heâ€™d reduced the votes to four, meaning ComStar would be breaking ties, Peter reflected. That meant Thomas needed three votes including his own because ComStar couldnâ€™t vote for the Free Worlds League while they remained the biggest patron of their rival Word of Blake.

â€œThat wasâ€¦ unexpected,â€ Thomas said, looking after the departing Chancellor for a moment. â€œI trust that you wonâ€™t consider me immodest if I donâ€™t follow your example, Peter?â€

â€œNot immodest, no.â€ Peter glanced across the room at him. â€œIndeed, your position is almost the inverse of mine. Iâ€™ve just completed a civil war and you appear to be about to begin one.â€

â€œRumours of our internal divisions have always been exaggerated in other states.â€

â€œYes, but usually those divisions arenâ€™t the result of the Captain-General having lied about his identity for his entire reign.â€

The unscarred side of Thomasâ€™ face went white and then red as Peter brutally brought the matter into the public eye. Notably, no one at the table seemed even remotely surprised. â€œIâ€¦ youâ€¦â€

â€œWho leads the Free Worlds League is absolutely none of my business,â€ Peter continued with less than total honesty. â€œBut if the First Lord tries to use the SLDF to win a civil war in his own realm then that affects us all. And your identity is the key issue that the Free Worlds League may fracture over. If you weather the storm then your other qualifications are excellent, but I donâ€™t favour propping you up.â€

Theodore cleared his throat. â€œSince any of us could die in office or face unexpected developments in the next few years, I donâ€™t find your arguments compelling, Lord Steiner-Davion.â€

â€œThat is your right, sir.â€

â€œDoes anyone else wish to speak on the matter?â€ asked Dow. â€œIn that case, your votes, please.â€

Thomas and Theodore voted aye and Peter nay. All eyes went to Mansdottir, who hesitated. He couldnâ€™t win really - either way he would be disagreeing with one of his small realmâ€™s powerful neighbours. The hesitation was brief though and he looked to his side. â€œOur Elected Prince will vote on this matter for Rasalhague.â€

Ragnar Magnusson stood, wearing crisp Ghost Bear dress uniform. â€œThe duplicity in the Captain-Generalâ€™s identity is something I am uncomfortable with. It would be a capital offense under the laws I have spent the last decade upholding,â€ he said firmly. â€œRasalhague votes nay.â€

The Captain-General lowered his head and said nothing.

â€œWho else is there?â€ asked Grover. â€œThe five great houses have all either served already, been voted down or rejected nomination.â€

Peter nodded. â€œThat being the case, I nominate the head of the other remaining member state. General Mansdottir, do you accept nomination.â€

The regent gave him a rueful look. â€œYes, Lord Steiner-Davion.â€

â€œI second the nomination,â€ Theodore agreed firmly - tacitly confirming he wasnâ€™t going to take too much offense at the disagreement over Thomasâ€™ election.

Dow nodded. â€œThe votes please.â€

Three votes would have carried the matter anyway but Thomas added his own with some attempt at graceful acceptance of defeat and Mansdottir accepted his election with a few short words couched in generalities, clearly not having expected this. Ragnar was beaming from beside him.

â€œWhile there is nothing further for debate,â€ Peter offered as the new First Lord returned to his seat, â€œThere is a small presentation I wish to make to our new provisional members.â€ He smiled slightly. â€œI didnâ€™t offer these earlier in case it seemed I was trying to buy votes.â€

Servants carried small computer cores into the room and handed them off to Canopian and Taurian aides.

â€œMay I enquire as to what is on this?â€ asked Shraplen, looking at the core as if it were a ticking bomb.

â€œYou may have heard that during the Civil War my sister Catherine obtained an old Terran Hegemony computer,â€ explained Peter calmly. â€œSo far as we can determine, it holds data their intelligence gathered on other statesâ€™ military hardware including schematics, construction data and detailed analysis of both recorded performance and salvaged examples. Almost four hundred years of it. I had our own analysts compile all data regarding your respective stateâ€™s and youâ€™ll find it on the cores.â€ He sat back in his chair. â€œSome of it may be of no more than historical value, but it is your heritage so it seems only right to return it to you. And if you find use for it, so much the better - NAIS is currently working to some former Federated Suns early BattleMech designs for modern service so the potential exists.â€

drakensis · « **Reply #25 on:** April 16, 2021, 02:37:32 AM »

A/N: I've no idea what happened to the speech marks and quote marks in previous posts. I'm assuming a server issue since some of my other threads have been affected. Editing doesn't work, perhaps due to the age. But anyway, sorry about the two year hiatus...

Part Two - Irian

Can't sleep beneath the trees of wisdom
When your ax has cut the roots that feed them
Forked tongues in bitter mouths
Can drive a man to bleed from inside out

Chapter 8
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
23 December 3064

“Last time I had that many people waiting for me to get off a dropship, I had to shoot my way off it,” Galen Cox observed, twisting his neck to look out of the window at the crowds at the spaceport.

“I hope that won’t be necessary, you didn’t bring your BattleMech.”

“That would just make it a fair fight,” the blond SLDF officer told Isis, with a broad smile to show her that he wasn’t seriously worried.

She nodded. “Well, as I recall ‘fair fights’ are a cardinal sin in military planning so let’s not do that.”

“That’s me told,” Galen agreed and stepped forward to hold the door for her.

A wall of sound greeted Isis as she walked out into the spaceport concourse. The Captain-General had pushed her patent of nobility through with as much stealth as he could arrange so it had only been a week since Isis’ elevation to Duchess of Irian hit the public, strategically paired with her return to the Free Worlds League in the news.

To either side of the concourse, BattleMechs came to attention as if the Captain-General or some other dignitary was arriving. The four ‘Mechs to her left were predominantly white, with green and purple highlights on their limbs - Free Worlds Legionnaire colours - while the four on the right were purple with red and blue accents, marking them as the Marik Militia. Behind the lines of troops, a mass of people stood, many waving flags bearing the eagle badge of House Marik.

“Quite a welcome.”

Isis nodded and raised her hand to return the gesture. “At a guess, the Seventh Free Worlds Legionnaires and the Thirteenth Marik Militia - they’re the two regiments stationed here. But I wasn’t expecting a parade welcome.”

“Perhaps the Captain-General gave them orders.” Galen nodded to the flags being waved by the crowds beyond the ‘Mechs, each showing the Marik eagle. “It’d be hard for IrTech to complain about you after you get a hero’s welcome like this.”

“There is that,” she conceded.

Up ahead the waiting delegation had two FWLM officers flanking an assured looking civilian.

“Mr. Hughes,” Isis greeted him, stepping forwards openly. “I hope I haven’t taken you away from business by arriving on such short notice.”

Sigismund Hughes gave no sign of his annoyance that after decades of intransigence from his family and his corporation, Irian would now have a duchess. “It is both business and pleasure to welcome you to your new home, Duchess Marik.”

Isis extended her hand and the CEO of Irtech bowed his head to kiss the back of it. “A home is something I’ve missed for a long time,” she told Hughes. “It’s very gracious of House Hughes to be so welcoming.”

With a sharp smile, Hughes turned his head to include the officers. “I’d like to introduce you to Colonel Reissing, who handles security around our battlemech plants, and General Mountash, the commander of Irian’s garrison.”

“I’ve heard of your regiments,” Isis assured the two. “The Thirteenth Militia appeared regularly in the military histories I’ve studied and the growth of the Legions has mirrored the growing strength of the League through my childhood. I’m sure that if called upon, you’d both bring honour to your formations.”

Lucy Mountash smiled broadly at the compliment. “That’s very kind of you to say so, your grace.” Reissing merely nodded quietly, a more reserved smile flickering across his face. The general looked to Galen. “And you can only be the legendary Galen Cox. We weren’t expecting to see one of the heroes of the Clan Invasion here on Irian.”

Galen saluted crisply. “I didn’t realise I was a celebrity here in the League, General. The Commanding General sent me here on a purchasing mission and Lady Isis offered me the opportunity to travel with her.”

“We’ve known each other since ‘fifty-one,” Isis added smoothly.

“You look very healthy for a dead man,” the general quipped, offering Galen her hand.

He accepted and shook vigorously before taking Colonel Reissing’s hand. “It seemed expedient not to let the then-Archon know that the bombing hadn’t killed me; but now that the war’s over I can use my own name again.”

“I’d have thought that the SLDF would make orders through their FWLM liaison officer,” Hughes mused out loud as he took his turn welcoming Galen. “Aren’t you a long way from home, Colonel?”

“I was born on Tamar,” Galen explained. “It’s a little difficult to travel there at the moment, Clan Wolf tend to object. As for the FWLM liaison, their job is to coordinate military operations with the SLDF. We prefer to have as few middlemen as possible when it comes to purchasing. You may have heard that we’re forming two new brigades in the next few years and Isis persuaded me that Irtech was the logical place to start looking for BattleMechs.”

“We do have some production.” Hughes somehow kept a straight face with that understatement, though he did look back at Isis for a moment.

That’s right, she thought, realising he’d grasped the point. I bring connections that can be useful - and profitable - to Irian. And I’ve got backing other than the Captain-General. Two companies of battlemechs could cost as much as a quarter of a billion C-bills. After that they’d need spare parts, and if a good relationship could be established then there could be future purchases - who knew how large the SLDF could eventually become?

“I’ll be glad to talk business with you.” The CEO shook Galen’s hand. “But today is our Duchess’ day.”

“No, Lord Hughes, today is their day.” Isis nodded towards the crowd. “Colonel Reissing, would it disturb your troops if I went to meet the public?”

“Given how many of their families are in the crowd, I’d think they’d be pleased,” he answered drily. “Please come with me, your grace.”

Isis accepted Reissing’s arm and he escorted her towards the people of Irian, followed by Hughes, Galen and General Mountash.

Chapter 9
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
25 December 3064

Peter and Victor reached the lounge for their next appointment with just enough time to open a bottle of sparkling mineral water before the screen lit up to indicate an incoming call. The brothers expected to be doing a lot of social drinking this evening so they wanted to be well hydrated in advance.

“Can you get that, Victor?” the Archon-Prince asked as he was holding the bottle and two glasses.

Victor grabbed the remote and after a short conversation with the Triad’s communication staff, the screen lit up with a 2-D view of another lounge, one more than five hundred light years away.

“Happy Christmas, Victor,” Yvonne called from the couch she sat on, facing the camera. She had a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands. “And to you, Peter.”

Setting the glasses down and pouring, Peter waved with his now free hand. “And seasons’ greetings to you, Yvonne. Is Catherine late?”

“She should be here any time now.”

An instant later Peter heard a door opening and Catherine entered the view, wearing black leggings and gloriously gaudy christmas sweater that almost reached her knees. “Merry Christmas.” She dropped into a seat next to Yvonne. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Getting changed after the celebrations?” asked Victor, sitting down next to Peter and accepting his glass.

Yvonne snorted. “She wore that to the party,” she snitched. “I thought her valet was going to cry, she’d picked out a lovely dress and then Catherine wore that.”

“It’s Christmas. Besides, I don’t think Madelaine has quite grasped that I’m not Katrina.”

The younger sister shrugged. “Yes, but you look just like her, so the best colours and shapes are going to be the same recommendations.”

Cat shook her head stubbornly. “If there’s any upside to this royalty business I’m sure it has to be setting fashions not following them.”

“It is, as you say, Christmas,” Peter offered tolerantly. At least Cat had attended the party - she’d threatened to hide in the depths of Fox’s Den with some of her personal library and wait out the season after she saw how busy the royal family’s schedules were in the holiday.

“You’ve still got your evening engagements to go to?” asked Yvonne. “Or am I getting the clocks wrong?”

“The Archon’s Christmas Ball for me and Victor gets to escape to a party Semier Data Tron are hosting on FCS Reunion.” The corporation had just launched the Excalibur-class dropship and were holding the party in low orbit so that their senior executives and guests from the ship-building industry and AFFC could look down on everyone else’s party.

Peter, on the other hand, would be trapped in the palace ballroom with approximately half a thousand business magnates, nobles and their eligible daughters. The price of freedom from Katrina’s rule was apparently eternal matchmaking.

His sisters smiled in understanding. “How you suffer,” Cat said drily. “I know your pain, but Yvonne can hide behind Tancred while all the other young ladies make clawing gestures.” She demonstrated and hissed.

Yvonne giggled. “They don’t really.”

“You have no idea what they’re like because when Tancred’s around you only look at him.”

“Well perhaps the ladies will calm down before I get back to New Avalon.” Peter sipped from his glass. “Which should be around February or March, depending on how quickly you get here to take over from me, Yvonne. The new repaired recharge stations along the Tharkad-New Avalon shipping routes should mean we can travel quickly without tying up the ships for a command circuit.”

His youngest sister blinked in surprise. “You want me to come to Tharkad?”

He paused, not expecting that response. “Yes, that’s why I’ve been keeping you up to date on everything here. I…” Peter thought back. “Okay, I suppose I hadn’t actually come out and said it.”

“Are you sure that that’s a good idea?” Yvonne looked away. “I didn’t do well as Victor’s regent.”

“You were younger and less experienced then,” pointed out Victor. “If it wasn’t for Kath-” He caught himself. “-rina, you’d have done fine. I didn’t see that coming either.”

“Good save,” Cat told him drily. “Why not stick with Kathrina? It’s different enough most people should know who you mean.”

Victor raised his glass in acceptance of the deal. “And you’ll have more support - we’ll all be within easy HPG communication, not a thousand light years from the Inner Sphere.”

Yvonne paused, opened her mouth to speak and then hesitated.

“If it’s about Tancred, I should let you know that the Fourteenth Federated Commonwealth is short-listed as one of the units to transfer across to the Lyran state command.” Peter set his glass down. “If he agrees, I’m planning on posting them here on Tharkad to finish bringing them up to strength with Lyran personnel.”

“Not everything I decide is about my relationship with Tancred, which is none of your business, anyway!”

Cat leaned across and put one arm around Yvonne’s shoulders. “He’s not trying to meddle, Yvonne. He’s just leaving your options open. But if you don’t want to go to Tharkad, I’ll take the job. It’ll let me skip out on the three ring circus.”

“What circus?”

“Peter’s coronation, of course.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “The ceremonies alone will take days, and then there are the social obligations… any excuse to skip all that is a good one.”

“It must be something about having blonde hair,” Peter muttered to his brother. “You hate that rigmarole too.”

“It’s not the hair,” Victor corrected him testily. “Morgan hated formal events too - and Kathrina adored them.”

“Will you be coming too? Or staying on Tharkad?” asked Yvonne.

“Neither, sorry.” Victor shrugged apologetically. “Peter’s sending me down to Cavanaugh II and then a quick tour of the rest of Bolan Province. Cousin Richard made a real mess of things and we need to get them in order in case the Free Worlds League comes apart.”

Cat leant forwards. “Do you think that that’s likely?”

“We’ll have a better idea when their Parliament opens next month.” Peter made a face. “What about you? What do you expect there?” He knew he was weighting the question heavily but short of asking outright, unwise since HPG security could only assume that ComStar hadn’t managed to decrypt their communications protocols…

“The Captain-General’s identity leaking out was always going to be a problem,” Cat replied slowly. “I didn’t expect issues for years though… I think his support within House Marik is fracturing but the other issue was the Word of Blake and so far the moderates seem to be keeping their radicals in check.”

“How many years?”

“Sometime in the next First Lord’s term.” She frowned. “It’s possible that if our own Civil War had run longer then the League would have been slower to move although I’m not sure about their exact calculations.”

“There are times that I’m not either.” Victor’s face was grim for a moment. “Galen and Isis may be walking into a firestorm.”

“Then you’ll be in the right place to help them out,” his youngest sister reminded him. “I’d rather you were on Tharkad but Bolan isn’t so far away.”

“What other units are you planning to move?” Cat changed the subject - or rather backstepped to an earlier point - abruptly. “I’ve been out of the loop on some of the military planning there.”

“Is Bishop not keeping you up to date?” Peter had hoped that Field Marshal Sortek wasn’t nurturing distrust of Catherine. If so he’d need to set the man straight once he was back on New Avalon.

“It’s just Christmas complicating my schedule.”

Peter rubbed his jaw and then conceded the point. “We’re looking at just three Regimental Combat Teams from each side for now. There’s too much ill-feeling to stir things further than that. The regiments from the Federated Suns command haven’t been finalised but I’m sending all three of the Alliance Guards RCTs.”

“Aren’t they rejoining the FedCom Corps?” asked Cat in surprise. “I’d have thought…”

He made a face. “So did I, and they were willing… but the Corps weren’t. Marshal Venger and I talked about it and he said he’d checked the senior staff of his RCTs and there were harsh words. Apparently there’s a consensus that the Alliance Guards betrayed their sister regiments by joining the LAAF. They also objected in advance to any plan to reform the Third RCT the way we’ve been reconstituting the Sixth and Eighth RCTs.”

“That doesn’t leave many commands in the Corps.” Only the First and Seventh FedCom RCTs had fought against Kathrina, with the Sixth smashed on Addicks, the Fifth on Algol and the Eighth battered badly on Kathil. The first and last were covered by the amnesty, but like all the troops on Algol the Fifth FedCom had had its colours retired.

“I know, but I only have so much political capital to spend. It’s taking everything Venger and Tancred can do to bridge the gaps between the remaining units.” Peter shrugged. “The Fifth, Ninth, Eleventh and Twelfth RCTs will stay struck from the books and we’ll reform the Second RCT then start adding new numbers.”

“Being destroyed in action against the Capellans is a little more creditable than being on the wrong side of a civil war in their eyes,” Victor commented. “And at least the Sixth and Eighth have an influx of loyal personnel from the Albion cadet cadres.”

“Loyal but inexperienced.”

“We all have to start somewhere,” Cat pointed out to Peter. “The Fifth Royals did.”

“Touche,” murmured Yvonne. “So I’ll be coming directly to Tharkad?”

Peter shook his head. “Not quite. If the schedules work out - which look promising - I’d like you to make a couple of stops on the way. To be specific, on Skye and Donegal.”

“Skye, I can understand,” she said. “Reminding Robert and Hermione to mind their manners is just good sense, but why Donegal? Surely that’s more reliable.”

“You might think that,” Victor corrected her, “But you’d be wrong.”

“Nejama Beersheba-Marsden was much deeper in Kathrina’s pockets than it appeared,” Peter expanded, mood souring. “She very nearly managed to cover it up too. Fortunately she missed a couple of loose ends and Sabine realised what was going on and hustled the witnesses into protective custody.”

“Good for her.” Yvonne nodded decisively. “I’m glad to see one of Nondi’s lot is showing some sense. So you want me to attend the elevation of the new Duke or Duchess.”

“Well, it would be hard to grant you the title if you didn’t attend.”

“...what?”

“Merry Christmas.” Peter toasted her with what was left of the water in her glass.

“Can… Are you serious?”

“You have as good a claim as anyone. Remember, our grandfather Arthur was the last Luvon Duke of Donegal and there’s a lot of fond looking back to him, at least compared to his cousins and their descendants. I’ve had some independent checking of public opinion and there’s a general feeling on Donegal that the ducal family has gone to the dogs since he died back in 3010.”

“But,” the twenty-five year old hesitated. “If I marry Tancred, then I’d be Duchess of Robinson someday.”

“That’s no reason not to have a duchy of your own,” Peter refilled his glass. “You are basically my heir right now. If I don’t manage to have an heir of my own body then you and your children having a foot either side of Terra wouldn’t be a bad thing.” He sat back. “So yes, christen the first Lee-class dropship built at Shipil’s yards on Skye, then on to Donegal where I can meet you and take your oaths. Then we both attend the reopening of the Martial College of Donegal before I set off for New Avalon with the Fifth Royals and you take the First Royals back to Tharkad.”

“You’ve forgiven them their transgressions then?” asked Cat.

“There’s no real personnel overlap,” he told her. “Riskind has done well and it’ll be a step back to normalcy for everyone.”

She nodded. “Should be popular.”

Yvonne opened her mouth to speak but Victor deftly cut her off. “So has a decision been made on whether Nanking or Tikonov gets the new Capellan March Militia unit?”

The youngest Steiner-Davion sibling shook her head. “They’ve been such fiends about quarrelling, I think Cat and cousin George have given up.”

“The decision has been deferred,” her older sister reported. “George made a reasonable argument for both of them but that’s not happening right now. The personnel just aren’t available and to be honest I don’t feel either should be rewarded.”

Victor glanced at Peter. “I can see the logic behind dividing up the region up again - Valexa is already stretched given the importance of the area.”

“For now the rest of the Capellan March Militia gets the personnel and equipment that was being set aside, which should free up frontline forces if they’re needed. Perhaps more Borderers would be a solution,” Cat continued, “We added Sirdar and Alcyone Borderer units with what’s left of the Katrina loyalists from the Capellan March so, as long as we don’t use them as a dumping ground, we could reorganise them into a multi-regiment formation rather than leave them operating independently.”

“Not a terrible idea.” Peter held up his hand. “But it’ll have to wait at least another year before trying anything of the kind.”

Cat nodded compliantly. “Of course.”

“Who would have thought,” Victor said tolerantly, “last Christmas, that we could be having this conversation now?”

There was a rustle of agreement from both sides of the video link.

The eldest of the four studied his own glass. “In your dreams, Catherine, where would we have been now?”

Peter brought his palm up to cover his face. “Goddammit, Victor.”

“I’m serious.”

“Security is just a word to you, isn’t it?”

“Either our codes are good - and as far as I know they are, because my people inside ComStar couldn’t tell me much about Katherine’s - sorry, Kathrina’s - communications - or they aren’t and they know already.”

Peter rolled his eyes but waved permission to Catherine.

“Yvonne would have been with Tancred, fighting for Tsamma against loyalist DMM brigades that had chased them there.” She looked over to Peter. “You’d still be at Saint Marinus House, wrestling with your inner demons.”

Victor raised an eyebrow when Catherine fell silent. “And me?”

“...neither Hohiro nor Theodore managed to tell you about Omi’s assassination,” she said reluctanty. “So Katrina decided to offer her ‘consolations’ at the Whitting Conference. It was a year before you could even get back in a ‘Mech, much less give useful orders.”

Peter leaned over and punched Victor reprovingly in the shoulder. “Great job breaking the mood, Victor.”

Chapter 10
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
29 December 3064

Isis wondered if Sigmund Hughes was planning to bore her to sleep before she could play any part in the Director’s meeting. The seat she had in the second tier of the room was certainly comfortable enough - although that might just be part of the general decor. Irian was a huge and well-established corporation and while its central administration wasn’t quite as lavish as an equivalent noble manor might be, the practical comforts lacked nothing of that.

The central seats were filled by the major administrative officers and heads of the major divisions, including Irian BattleMechs Unlimited and - amusingly in a dark way, the Planetary Administrator. The place of the planet Irian’s government as just one more part of the corporation - and hardly the most important - was evident.

Galen Cox had smuggled a self-heating carafe in with him, and once the review of the potential SLDF contract was complete - provisionally the agreement was that he would be looking at their Hermes II, Tempest and Albatross ‘Mechs with a view to picking up four of each - he poured a cup for himself and then a second for her. “Not as well catered as some of our staff meetings back in the day.” He kept his voice low.

“At least the drinks bar isn’t serving,” she replied under her breath as she accepted the cup. The hot, thick coffee took her back to the frigid wastes of north Bremen again.

If the tedium of the meeting was aimed at her, it was poorly planned. She’d sat through worse during the fighting over St Ives and then as an aide without official duties during Victor’s campaigning against Katrina.

“We come next to the wider political situation,” Hughes declared. “The political uncertainty on Atreus has led to an upswing in proposed orders from provincial authorities. This rather exceeds our current capacity so there is some question of who we must disappoint.”

Isis tapped the remote by her chair, a request to be heard on the topic. It wasn’t obligatory that the Board allow her to speak but as a major shareholder they wouldn’t want to offend her either. In this case, Hughes barely looked down at his display before nodding. “Duchess Marik, I believe you wish to address this matter.”

“Thank you.” She rose to her feet and heads turned as directors and other major shareholders (or their representatives) took what was probably their first look at her. Isis had adopted a business suit, not wanting to stand out too visibly. “Some of you may remember the previous occasions when civil war rocked the Free Worlds League. The Andurien Secession was kind to Irian… but Anton Marik’s treason was not.”

That hit home with those old enough to have clear memories of 3014. Sigmund was among them - he’d taken over in the aftermath of significant damage to Irian’s primary battlemech plant when loyalists reclaimed them from a rebel special operations group.

“We are accustomed to thinking of factories as semi-sacrosanct due to the difficulties in maintaining them through the Succession Wars,” she continued. “But those difficulties are less now than they have been for centuries, and civil wars are no respecters of normal limits to warfare. We have seen this in the last few years with fighting on major industrial worlds of the Federated Commonwealth - in my own case, I had the unfortunate privilege of seeing Coventry Metal Works after the fighting there.”

Nathaniel Rivarez, the Director of the BattleMechs Unlimited division, snorted. “We have two FWLM brigades here, Duchess. Besides our own security.”

“And if those regiments take different sides?” Isis asked him coolly. “As happened on Kathil. And that was with just two sides fighting - we’re looking at at least four distinct factions forming. The Captain-General, my cousin Corinne, the Regulans, and Duchess Humphreys of Andurien.”

“I wasn’t aware that Andurien was seeking the Captain-General’s office,” someone muttered.

Sigmund cleared his throat. “I believe Duchess Marik is suggesting a new attempt at independence, which is plausible given her interest in purchasing military supplies from us. I would ask, however, do you also see a claim in your own future? I know that your aunt Theresa is seeking alliances.”

Isis shook her head. “I have no such aspirations. I would prefer that as much of the League remains uninvolved, to mitigate the damage that this power struggle will cause. Starting here, on Irian.”

“And how do you propose that we should achieve this… admirable goal?” Rivarez demanded. “From what you say, Irian will be a major target for all of the rising factions.”

“Should we offer our support to someone who can ensure our security?” asked the head of IMB Systems, Mirka Kjellsdottir.

Hughes scowled. “And if that faction should fail? We would become a target for the winners.”

“Who will win?”

Isis couldn’t tell who asked that, but it was clearly the question on everyone’s mind. “There is no way to predict that at this time,” she warned. “I therefore propose that Irian - and any other worlds we can influence - should take a neutral position. Offer to supply any units - federal or provincial - that are standing aside to guard the League against outside threats, and ensuring that whoever wins there is something left for that victor to rule.”

“If we are no one’s ally then we are everyone’s enemy,” challenged Kjellsdottor sharply. “The garrison units here could be ordered to seize our factories.”

“And the outside threats…” Rivarez glared suspiciously in the direction of Galen. “Will the Federated Commonwealth take advantage?”

Galen cleared his throat and Isis gestured invitingly for him to speak up. Rising, the blond man shook his head slightly when she started to sit. “To the best of my knowledge, the Archon-Prince has no interest in expanding his realm through opportunism. He has more than a year of civil war to recover from, after all, and a hazardous border with Clan Jade Falcon. The new First Lord and Commanding General have discussed committing the SLDF to deter such attacks and it is likely other members of the Star League would be willing to unite against House Steiner-Davion.”

“However,” he continued before the tension could fade. “It’s not possible for any Great House to exercise tight control over their borders. The recent clashes between the Draconis March and Draconis Combine are an example - both sides drawn into conflict by raids none of the rulers desired. The provinces of Bolan and Skye remain turbulent… and there is of course, the League’s other major border.”

Isis found the reference to the Capellan Confederation and her former fiance Sun-Tzu Liao less raw that it once had. The end of that engagement had removed one of the barriers to a war between the League and the Confederation. “The current Chancellor has built much of his reputation on reclaiming worlds lost to the Federated Commonwealth. I am sure he would not mind taking back worlds the Capellans have lost to the League over the years.”

Sigmund Hughes held up his hand for silence. “I believe the Duchess has outlined a viable course of action. We cannot reasonably support all sides, so the choice is between backing one faction or following a policy of neutrality. And this must be armed neutrality, establishing ties to military units that will be both our customers and our protectors. Does anyone wish to propose a likely claimant that we can rely on to successfully secure our influence.”

“Thomas Marik has done well by us,” offered Rivarez, but then his shoulders slumped. “But whether he will rally the way his father did against insurrection?”

“If he’s even Janos’ son.”

Kjellsdottor’s words set more people looking towards Isis. She smiled sadly. “The current Captain-General has been very able, but my grandfather was able to rally support or at least acquiescence to him through legitimacy. With the current suspicions, it’s clear that this isn't a factor we can rely on. If a political solution can be found, he may endure, but once fighting begins…” She spread her hands.

“May I ask for a quick poll in favour of the policy of armed neutrality?” Hughes’ voice made it an order not a request.

There was a flurry of hands raised slightly in approval and the chairman nodded. “I don’t believe we need a full vote of shareholders at this point. Duchess, I understand that you’ll be meeting with the commanders of our garrisons socially soon. I would appreciate a fresh perspective of their intentions if civil war should begin.”

Isis nodded in agreement and took a seat, trying to hide her relief at how well that had gone. Galen also sat, touching her elbow with his hand as he did so. When she looked at him, he gave her a wink of approval.

drakensis · « **Reply #26 on:** April 16, 2021, 02:38:10 AM »

Chapter 11
Harlech, Outreach
Chaos March
5 January 3065

Peter’s court, ramshackle as it was even now, was scattered across a dozen dropships at various stages of the journey from Tharkad to New Avalon. Command circuits had moved a few ahead, but most were taking commercial routes that were somewhat less efficient - if better than waiting for a fleet of jumpships to recharge completely in every system along the way.

While Peter could have travelled with one of the fastest moving dropships, he’d diverted in the Terran corridor to carry out some diplomacy and he’d taken a guard force from the Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards with him.

“If you want us to reconquer this part of the Chaos March, we may be a little outnumbered,” his temporary aide observed as the bustling drop port of Harlech fell behind them. Scores of dropships were landing, loading or departing as the mercenary capital of the Inner Sphere fed on the business of war. The conflicts that had engulfed worlds of the former Sarna March demanded not just the vast regimental forces often hired by the Great Houses but also smaller and more affordable units.

All of them came here, to Outreach, to rest, rebuild, find new employers and then set out again. It was making the world rich.

“Don’t worry, Sabine, if I want to take Outreach I realise it might take a little more than just the Twenty-Fourth to take on the Wolf Dragoons,” he assured her. The new commander of the RCT would be securing worlds in the area, covering the vital link between two halves of his realm.

It wasn’t far for the limousine to carry the two of them to their meeting room. A security detail had gone ahead and almost finished the jostling for position with the infantry already on guard there. Peter started to get out of the car but Sabine politely but firmly blocked him. “Do you really want to make the troops fret?” she asked him.

With a sigh he subsided back into the seat. She was right, however much it grated.

After a wait that seemed interminable, the driver relayed a message that security was confirmed and Peter gave his cousin a querying look. She sighed and nodded her consent for him to leave the car. The commander of the Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards had a very Steiner look to her and he could understand why some spoke of her as the second-coming of his grandmother. Sabine couldn’t quite have passed for Catherine - or Katherine - but stood next to either of them she would have had little trouble presenting herself as a sister and not a second-cousin.

The car was under a portico so there was only minimal exposure before Peter was inside, with Sabine following close at his heels. The two of them were led to a cathedral-ceilinged conference room, decorated in warm golds and yellows. The afternoon sun streamed through high windows, occasionally mirrored by the light of ship’s fusion thrusters over the drop-port.

There were only three people waiting for the pair of them. The younger of the two men wore a formal kilt of Macleod tartan, with the uniform tunic above it bearing badges that made it clear - if there had been any doubt - that he was a Colonel of the Northwind Highlanders. The two Dragoons were both shorter and more compact, the man’s hair and beard white with age, the woman beside him perhaps of an age with the two Federated Commonwealth visitors to Outreach.

“Your highness. General.” Commander Jaime Wolf greeted Peter and Sabine cordially. “I trust that I have the rank right, with the changes you’ve been making.”

Peter shook the offered hand while Sabine confirmed the rank was correct. The three-rank jump from Colonel to General had been necessary to place her in command of the Regimental Command Team once Peter Riskind moved to the Royal Guards, but no one had seriously suggested that she wasn’t ready. And the political optics of Nondi Steiner’s granddaughter being raised high at least suggested that all was well within House Steiner.

“Commander Wolf. General Wolf,” Peter shook Maeve Wolf’s hand next and finally exchanged terse bows with the Highlander, who seemed less inclined to extend a hand. “Colonel Macleod.”

Wolf - the elder - gestured to the table. “Why don’t we all sit down for this conversation.”

Putting the table between them might be best, but Peter paused as he started pulling back one of the chairs for himself. Something about the chamber had tickled at his memory. “Should I check for a fake bomb under the table?”

Only Jaime understood, in fact Sabine straightened in some alarm, but the old mercenary chuckled drily. “So you heard that story. No, your highness. No bombs, real or fake, on this occasion.”

“I didn’t realise the two of you knew each other,” Maeve Wolf observed. “Your file says you’ve never been to Outreach before, your highness.”

“I haven’t.” Peter took his seat facing Jaime. “But Victor told me a few stories about his training here on Outreach.”

“Yes.” The mercenary paused. “He failed that test, though I thought for a while he had at least learned from it.”

“Possibly the wrong lessons, given how poorly trying to work with Liao has worked out for him over the last decade. But we’re not here to talk about Victor.”

“Then what is your agenda?” asked Macleod bluntly. “Threatening us with invasion if we don’t rejoin your Federated Commonwealth?”

Well, he was as blunt as reports said. The Highlander had been the garrison commander on Northwind when Sun-Tzu’s agent and spectacular mismanagement by Victor’s officers had led to fighting between pro-FedCom and pro-Capellan Highlanders, fighting that had deprived the Federated Commonwealth of four crack regiments, all on critical worlds. MacLeod’s regiment had taken the brunt of the fighting, but they had also succeeded in driving off the Third Royal Guards, one of the same regiments Peter had faced on Tharkad.

“I don’t deny the sentiment has some support among my advisors,” the Archon-Prince replied, rubbing his jaw. “And I won’t insult your intelligence by claiming we don’t have contingency plans to force both Outreach and Northwind back into the Federated Commonwealth.”

Maeve Wolf snorted. “Even with all the luck in the world, I don’t like your chances.”

Peter eyed her for a moment. “I’m not saying it would be easy and it would undoubtedly be expensive in lives, General. Not least because it’s at least possible that Chancellor Liao would decide to honour his guarantee of Northwind’s independence. On the other hand, this wouldn’t be the most fortified world I’ve stormed, even with the Dragoons’ warship squadron taken into account.” And then he smiled pleasantly. “On balance, I had more driving reasons to take New Avalon and Tharkad than I have to launch into more meatgrinders like that.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” confirmed Jaime before either of his companions could speak up. “I take it then, that you have something other than an ultimatum in mind?”

On cue, Sabine opened her attache case and produced a pair of folders, pushing them across the table to Jaime Wolf and William MacLeod.

“These are proposed treaties recognising the independence of Northwind and of Outreach.” Peter watched them open the folders. “My parents agreed to granting these worlds under terms that had… significant grey areas because they believed there was sufficient goodwill on both sides to work around that. Without seeking to lay blame, I must recognise that such goodwill is a thing of the past.”

MacLeod looked up sharply. “Given the way your forces hammered Stirling’s Fusiliers on Ingress, this sounds more like you’re still wanting revenge.”

“These hiring restrictions…” Maeve Wolf was skim-reading the treaty at an impressive speed, although it truthfully wasn’t long or especially complicated. “They’re not acceptable.”

“What is not acceptable to you is for you to decide, General.” Peter leant forwards. “The Terran Corridor is and will remain the key strategic interest of the Federated Commonwealth. I will accept your mercenary commands ruling your homeworlds but I will not accept the chaos that surrounds them and I will not accept your regiments being hired for use against the Federated Commonwealth. I will treat such a deployment as a declaration of war by your planetary governments.”

“Ye cannae think we’ll cut off half our potential employers!” spat the Highlander, face tight.

“You can take whatever employment you choose, Colonel. But you can no longer act as mercenaries or as planetary governments, whichever is more advantageous to you in a given circumstance. The price of your independence is responsibility.”

Sabine cleared her throat. “I would point out that the treaty bars no employers, only that you may not take contracts executing or supporting offensive action against the Federated Commonwealth. Defensive contracts are unrestricted and you can even take contract with nations at war with us, as long as your regiments aren’t facing us.”

“So Northwind is now a hostage against us?”

“In the same way that the worlds of the Federated Commonwealth could be considered hostages against me,” Peter shot back without hesitation. “And since the worlds around Northwind are the Terran Corridor I’m so concerned about, I’ve little choice but to recognise that leverage on your part and address it.”

Maeve glanced at her senior and at some unspoken signal she looked back to Peter. “I don’t see any bar to us contracting to defend worlds of the Chaos March, even against you reconquering them.”

“I’d rather you didn’t, but there shouldn’t be anything there to say you can’t. I won’t make any secret of it though. I will be trying to bring those worlds back into the Federated Commonwealth so you’re taking such contracts at your own risk.”

“That’s the nature of our business, your highness.”

“And conversations like these are mine.” Peter paused. “Want to trade?”

She snorted. “Not hardly.”

Jaime steepled his fingers before him. “I don’t imagine that you expect answers to these today.”

“Hardly,” Peter assured him. “I don’t recall that you’re a dictator, and Colonel Macleod is answerable to the Clan Elders of Northwind. I’m delivering them personally so we can take each other’s measure. Take the time and have your staff review them. Some of the terms are negotiable… but others are not. There should not be any ambiguity over which are which.”

“And what,” Macleod asked in a dour voice, “would happen if by some reason you were persuaded to remain here to negotiate more favourable terms.”

Sabine leant forwards. “In that hypothetical situation, Colonel -”

“Which is entirely hypothetical,” interjected Jaime Wolf flatly. “Safe conduct of all parties is on my honour.”

She nodded. “Indeed. But were such a betrayal to take place, fourteen battalions of mercenaries in the Outreach system are contracted for operations in the Chaos March. Which would include, if necessary, securing a foothold for an AFFC invasion of Outreach.”

Jaime Wolf let his gaze drift from Sabine to Peter. “If necessary.”

“If necessary.”

“Well bargained, your highness.” He held out a hand to Maeve, who handed him the paper copy of the treaty, retaining the data disk containing the electronic version. “My staff and I will review the treaty and we’ll be in touch with your representatives here, if that’s sufficient?”

“Of course,” Peter agreed, and then looked at Macleod.

“We’ll see,” the mercenary grated at last. “I’ll put it to the elders. How they take the threat implied…” He shrugged.

I hope you’ll also persuade them that I’m not bluffing, Peter thought. Because if they mistake this for bluster then a lot of AFFC soldiers, Highlanders and Northwind civilians will pay the price. Even if Sun-Tzu’s word isn’t as empty as it usually seems to be.

Chapter 12
Soapstone Mountains, Irian
Free Worlds League
27 January 3065

Galen wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with some of the ‘Mechs he could see lined up for their final pre-acceptance inspections. After repeated efforts by IMBU execs determined to get SLDF funding for designing a brand-new ‘Battlemech that would be perfect for your needs’, it was a relief to get some time away from presentations and confirm for himself that Irian actually built ‘Mechs.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mire,” he told Isis as they exited the electric cart that had brought them to this part of the vast complex. “I owe you one.”

She smiled. “Friends don’t owe friends, Galen.”

How long would that attitude last now that she was knee deep in politics, and wading deeper? he wondered as he looked around for Colonel Lloyd Reissing, who was supposed to be meeting them for Isis’ visit.

Ostensibly Galen was only escorting her, while she carried out this public relations appearance with the Thirteenth Marik Militia. In practise, he would be able to see Irian’s newest production at work and maybe even get a look inside them. His purchasing mission involved getting new ‘Mechs before the end of 3065, not sometime in the 3070s which would probably be the case if Irian managed to get someone to sign off on development funding.

The ground practically shook beneath them as a towering ‘Mech strode out onto the testing range. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he told Isis, taking her arm as she tried to secure her sun hat - it was a hot day and she still hadn’t entirely adjusted from a Tharkad winter (which was barely distinguishable from a Tharkad spring or fall in Galen’s experience, unless you picked the right place). “Now all I have to do is convince IMBU that we want ‘Mechs now not a few years down the line.”

Isis waited until the ‘Mech - it was Tempest heavy - was a little further away and her hat was steadier before patting his arm. “That shouldn’t be too hard, Galen.”

“Telling them the ‘customer is always right’ doesn’t seem to be getting any traction.”

She shook her head sadly. “Galen, Galen. What am I going to do with you? The magic words are: ‘Quickdraws are a reliable design with ready access to spare parts’.”

“I didn’t think Irian built those.”

“They don’t. But Technicron of Savannah do, and I have contact with them via my cousin Alys. Once they know someone else could be bidding, that’s when the salesmen will get down to business.”

Galen glanced aside at her. “You’re doing a lot to help me.”

“As Jerrard Cranston did to help me, while I was part of Omi and Victor’s household.”

“That’s a mask I don’t need to wear any more.”

She smiled. “The beard suited you.”

He scratched his chin, now bare after years where a beard had been part of his disguise. “Well, it got warm inside a cockpit. Even in colder weather.”

“Your grace.” Colonel Reissing came into view. “And Colonel Cox. Welcome to IMBU’s main production plant. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long?”

“Not so very long.” Isis greeted him warmly. “Thank you for taking time away from your duties to meet us personally.”

“It’s a pleasure, Duchess Marik.” The colonel paused and then tilted his head slightly as if confiding. “And it gets me out of my own office for some cockpit time.”

She laughed lightly. “Now you sound just like Victor. Doesn’t he, Galen?”

“I may have heard those very words from him.”

Riessing nodded in acknowledgement and gestured towards a woman with the rank pins of a Force Commander - the FWLM equivalent of a Major. “Of course, I can hardly escort you into the cockpit, your grace, but perhaps you wouldn’t object to being escorted by Force Commander Moive. She runs my Second Battalion, and it's mostly her personnel working today.”

Moive bowed a little stiffly towards Isis, who brushed past it to take her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Force Commander. I’m not dragging you away from cockpit time, am I?”

“No,” the woman allowed. “Someone has to act as an interface with the reps from Irian and since rank has its privileges…”

Reissing tapped his chest, acknowledging the hit unapologetically. “Would you like a try, Colonel? You’re here to assess Irian’s products for the SLDF so it would be a chance to see them from the inside out.”

Galen glanced at Isis hesitantly. He was technically here as her escort, after all.

The younger woman waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine, Galen. This is your mission after all. I’m sure the Force Commander can see to my safety when we’re in a secure location like this.”

Well, she was old enough to know her own mind, after all. And he’d be leaving Irian sooner or later. It was silly to think he’d be following her around like an older brother guarding his little sister’s virtue. “Well, I won’t say no to a chance to go out and play. Do you have any more Tempests ready for testing, Colonel?” The heavy ‘Mech was a similar size and mobility to the Crusader that he’d piloted through most of his career.

“I think we could find one,” the FWLM officer said thoughtfully. “But I was thinking you might want to try out an Albatross.”

He arched an eyebrow at that. The Albatross was thirty tons heavier than the Tempest and until fairly lately, production runs of the ‘Mech had been directed towards Thomas Marik’s elite Knights of the Inner Sphere. “Well, I’d be a fool to turn my nose up at a chance like that.”

Reissing led him into the hangar and to a changing room where cooling vests were ready. Galen was wearing a mechwarrior’s shorts and vest under his uniform against this possibility so all he had to do was remove his outer garments and hang them up in the locker provided.

“You’ve known our newest Duchess for a long time?” the commander of the Thirteenth asked as he removed his own uniform.

“We met on Outreach back in fifty-one, but we didn’t really get to know each other until she moved to Mogyorod about… more than three years now.”

“That’s probably still more time than anyone from the League has spent with her since she left for Sian more than a decade ago.”

Galen shrugged. “Could be.”

“It’s a concern given that she’s chosen now as a time to return.” Reissing closed the door to his locker crisply and then turned to meet the younger man’s eyes. “I was a junior officer when Duncan Marik was the Captain-General… but I remember what strife within House Marik can mean.”

Duncan Marik had been Thomas Marik’s cousin and commander of the entire Marik Militia corps, the backbone of the Free Worlds League’s federal BattleMech forces. When Thomas’ father Janos suffered a stroke during the Andurien Secession, Duncan had been one of the leading candidates to succeed him only for Thomas to present documents proving he was the designated heir despite years of self-imposed exile as a ComStar Precentor. He’d even served in the Lyran Commonwealth, if Galen’s memory served him well, so Isis returning in a time of uncertainty would strike some parallels.

Of course, Duncan had only become Captain-General after a bomb killed Janos, his other likely successor Duggan, and - or so it had been believed - Thomas Marik. With no other rivals, Duncan had assumed power only for Thomas to return once more - or rather, as was now known, his clone had. Under suspicion for the bombing, Duncan had died attempting to secure his power base by overcoming Andurien’s defenses in a glorious but rash offensive that killed him and left the way forwards open for the current Captain-General.

“The Thirteenth supported Duncan, as I recall.”

“Of course. He was our general, after all. And Thomas was an unknown. But we never acted against him either, since he was the lawful Captain-General.”

“Which doesn’t spare you from suspicion.”

Reissing nodded. “Naturally. And now we have another potential power struggle to worry about. You can see my concerns.”

Galen reached for the door and saw the other man tense. Resting his hand upon it, he pretended to stretch, preventing anyone from entering. “You have some more questions you want to ask about Isis.”

“I’ll put it directly. Does she think she can persuade us to march to Atreus for her?”

A chortle fought its way out of Galen’s throat. “You obviously don’t know how hard the Captain-General had to work just to get her to agree to return to the Free Worlds League. No, colonel. She has no such ambitions.”

“And if someone has those ambitions on her behalf. She is very close to one Steiner-Davion already. As I understand it she stayed in the Archon-Prince’s own residence while she was on Tharkad.”

“Only after he’d relocated to the Triad.” Galen tried not to show how much that allegation irritated him. “I don’t believe Peter Steiner-Davion has exchanged more than a dozen words with her at any one time. And before you ask, no I don’t have any clue about what marriage plans - if any - he might have.”

Reissing eyed him suspiciously and then nodded. “I believe you.”

“Normally I wouldn’t be so direct, but since you put me on the spot, where do you stand on the matter?”

“That’s a topic of much debate within the regiment.”

“I’m sure it is, but you’re evading the question.”

The older officer sighed. “I would have a great deal of resistance if I tried to mobilise the Thirteenth to support the current Captain-General.”

“And again,” Galen pointed out, “You’re talking about your regiment and not about yourself.”

“I’m the Colonel of the Lucky Thirteenth. I can’t separate myself from my regiment. I would think someone who fought through a civil war of their own would understand.”

Galen sighed and then pulled the locker room door open. The conversation clearly wasn’t going to go anywhere. “So, tell me about the Albatross.”

Chapter 13
Arc Royal
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
24 February 3065

Conner Sortek had expected to find Morgan Kell and Clovis Holstein in the former’s office. And perhaps the famous Daniel Allard, current commander of the Kell Hounds, would be present. He was right about the first two but he wasn’t expecting the lean figure in grey leathers that lounged against one side of his father’s desk. “Khan Kell.”

Phelan Kell smirked. “And they say that Clansmen cannot lay ambushes.”

“Well their entire invasion was a sneak attack.”

The khan threw back his head and laughed, rather than taking offense. “I was certainly taken by surprise!” He had, Conner knew, been captured by Clan Wolf in the first attacks of the invasion. How he had risen from captive to the leader of that part of the Clan who had crossed the truceline to act as defenders to the Inner Sphere was a story much dramatized by the publicists… but how accurate those renditions were, that was a question he had never yet answered.

“Behave,” Morgan Kell growled, with more affection than warning in his voice… although there was some of both. “Welcome to Arc-Royal, Hauptmann Sortek. We haven’t seen the Royal Guards present for a while.”

The original Third Royal Guards had been posted to the Clan front a decade ago, and the former ComGuards now serving under that designation had been back to face the Jade Falcons much more recently. But perhaps that didn’t count in the eyes of the legendary mercenary. “Well, we’re on the move,” Conner assured him. “Although in this case it’s just a flying visit on my part.”

“I assume that since you chose Arc-Royal to meet with recruitment candidates that you have something else in mind.” The elder Kell nodded towards Clovis. “And asking for his presence confirmed it.” He rose from his seat, somewhat stiffly. “We may as well sit down to talk.”

The office was L-shaped, with the entrance near the corner. While Morgan’s desk was backed by the window, the other end held a conference table and chairs around it. It was a practical arrangement and kept direct sunlight away from the light of the holo projector above the conference table. Morgan sat at the head of the table, flanked by Clovis and Phelan, while Conner found himself seated at the foot. Hardly less intimidating than the desk really.

“Arc-Royal is actually a convenient spot for assembling the candidates being considered for the First Royal Guards,” he began. “As the centre of the Arc-Royal Defense Cordon, a lot of the military shipping lines have focused here. And then there’s Clovis’ work on putting the Mackie back into production here. But there are some matters that the Archon-Prince didn’t want to handle via HPG.”

“He doesn’t trust ComStar?”

Conner shrugged. “To the extent that he confides in me, he trusts them in some things and he trusts their security somewhat less. The Word of Blake compromised their intelligence assets substantially in order to take Terra away from them, and he’s not convinced that the resultant purges have actually closed all their leaks.”

“It’s a nasty guessing game,” Clovis agreed ruefully. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that… unless I’m wrong?”

Conner grinned and produced a data disk. “Only in that he’d like your opinion as well as Khan Kell’s people’s view on relocating the Trellshire Heavy Industries factory from Twycross.”

“Um…” the little man looked concerned. “It’s clearly doable in theory, but without the technical staff who set it up to begin with…” He looked over at Phelan.

“I suspect that I would need to draw heavily on my limited pool of technicians,” the Khan said slowly. “And we have commitments. Is he expecting the Jade Falcons to try to retake Twycross? My sources indicate that they’re very much done with the world - losing the Falcon Guards twice there is seen as more than just a coincidence.”

“Retaking the world is one thing, but raiding the factory to capture what’s built there, or remove the production line is more likely.” Conner pushed the disk across the table. “And if the Falcons don’t move in, there are sources suggesting that Clan Diamond Shark may take an interest in seizing it as a foothold in the Inner Sphere.”

Phelan sat up sharply. “That’s news to me. What is the source?”

“I can’t tell you that, sir. I don’t know the answer myself, but the Archon-Prince takes it seriously.”

“Need to know, Phelan,” his father reminded him.

“If another Clan is moving into the Inner Sphere then I think I do have need to know.”

Conner shrugged and produced another data disk, hoping that this one would pacify the younger Kell to an extent. “I think the main reason the Archon-Prince wanted me to act as a courier though is this.”

Phelan accepted the data disk. “Which is…?”

This was something that had been confided to Conner. “In repayment for the damage taken by your corvettes Killing Blow and Valiant during the fighting over Tharkad, the Archon-Prince offers Clan Wolf in Exile two Fox-class corvettes from those due to be laid down later this year.”

The political price of that might outweigh the billions of sovereigns (the new, reunified currency of the Federated Commonwealth) that such ships cost to build. Conner was gratified to see all three men go wide-eyed at that.

“That is… extremely generous,” Phelan said slowly. “I had hoped for a commitment to repair the two ships, so I have to wonder why Peter is offering me two new vessels, even if I will have to wait until… sixty-seven?”

“Sixty-eight,” Conner clarified. “Arrangements for the vessels scheduled for launch through to the end of 3067 were already too advanced, but two hulls are planned to complete at Galax and the same at Alarion the following year. The Galax construction times are shorter so tentatively it would be those, although if you prefer those from Alarion it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Another year might not be a bad thing,” Morgan told his son. “You’ll need to prepare crews.”

“Yes, and training them will be an interesting challenge. But you haven’t answered my question. What does Peter want?”

Conner looked at Morgan Kell. “Actually, this involves both you and your son. The Archon-Prince is very likely to be nominated as First Lord during the next Whitting Conference, and it would be politically difficult for him to decline.”

“Well, he is the only alternative to Thomas Marik, who would be a disastrous choice at this stage.”

“As it was explained to me,” Conner said carefully. That had not been a fun briefing, and he could fully understand now why his father had wanted to steer clear of politics wherever possible. “Without the Clans as an outside threat, there’s a certain perspective that the Second Star League has served its purpose.”

“What?” Phelan’s voice was low and dangerous.

“During some backroom negotiations during the last conference, the Captain-General suggested that the Star League’s new role would be in constraining the reunited Federated Commonwealth. But with Peter as First Lord, the concern would be that he would abuse the office as some of his predecessors did, and try to turn himself into a permanent first-among-equals.”

Clovis sighed. “Is he?”

“I really don’t think so. He told me he’d pass up election if he could, but the hit to his prestige would be too high. However, there’s a real possibility that Sun-Tzu or whoever holds the Marik seat by the time it matters will pull out rather than have a Steiner-Davion elected.”

“So what does he want?”

“It’s political.”

“Dammit, I am really tempted to pass up the corvettes.” Phelan sighed. “In more detail?”

“Right at the moment, he wants to stack the Star League Council with as many other delegations as possible, so that anyone who tries to leave will face diplomatic and economic isolation. It also means that many more votes that will be available to anyone trying to constrain him.”

“Does he want to lame the office?” asked Morgan seriously.

“Given the way Sun-Tzu abused it to retake St Ives, and Theodore Kurita did the same to annex the Lyons Thumb, that might not be a bad idea. In any case, he’s trying to encourage more periphery realms to get involved, and given how friendly Christian Mansdottir and Ragnar Magnusson were at the last conference, it would be no surprise if Clan Ghost Bear was sharing that seat at the next conference. If that goes through, it’s likely that Clan Nova Cat will also request a seat.”

“Don’t tell me that he wants me to apply for membership?” Phelan looked appalled. “I do remember how much of a problem it was for my father to attend back at the first Whitting Conference. He almost had to get married again.”

Morgan sighed heavily. “Please don’t remind me. Candace Liao is a fine woman but neither of us is interested in remarrying.”

“Unless you can reunite Clan Wolf entirely, it’s unlikely you’d be able to make a convincing claim for a seat of your own,” Conner reassured the Khan. “And as long as the Khan of the Crusader Wolves is Vladimir Ward…”

“Not happening,” Phelan agreed with a gratified look. “Finally a silver lining to that cloud. Actually, remind me to give you our latest data on the Clans’ supply movements for Peter’s intelligence staff. And maybe his intelligent staff too, if he has any. The Falcons’ new saKhan seems more focused on the other Clans, which opened up some cracks for us to gather information. Vlad is pulling a lot of resources out of the Homeworlds. If he is serious about launching a new invasion after the original Truce deadline expires in 3067 - and I think he is - then he has large plans for it.”

“Actually, what Peter was hoping was that you would approach the Wolf Dragoons and the Northwind Highlanders about forming a joint delegation, to represent the mercenary trade. After all, while your Clan aren’t mercenaries, you and they have all contributed heavily to the SLDF’s activities since the Star League was reformed. It’s not so unreasonable that you should be represented since the Blakists are and they only really control Terra. The Dragoons and Highlanders each have their own homeworld and Peter’s negotiating a treaty that will recognise their independence.”

“That’s quite a concession on his part.” Clovis rubbed his stubby fingers together. “About the kindest words he had for them back during the Civil War was ‘disloyal’.”

Conner nodded, ignoring the slightly startled looks on Morgan and Phelan’s faces. “That’s part of the reasoning. He feels they’ll be all the more appealing as a potential vote against him if they have a clear use for the Star League as a guarantor that he’ll hold to the treaty.”

Phelan glanced at his father and then sighed. “I suppose it makes some sense. I have spent some time on Outreach, so if we contact Jaime Wolf he can act as an intermediary for bringing in the Northwind Highlanders.”

“Look on the bright side,” Clovis noted. “At least with McCarron’s Armored Cavalry now part of the regular CCAF, you don’t have to worry about Sun-Tzu trying to wrangle them a place in your delegation.”

Conner noted that the two Kells found that idea just as horrifying as he did.

Chapter 14
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
5 March 3065

Isis watched the video message flip to the end of message logo. It was vaguely disconcerting to her that here in the Free Worlds League the logo represented the Word of Blake rather than ComStar. She’d known that they’d taken over the HPGs here in 3052, but her time in the Capellan Confederation and Federated Commonwealth had meant that her communications had continued to be delivered by Focht’s branch of the schismed HPG operators, and even when messages originated in the League, they’d carefully stripped any representation from their rivals from how messages were packaged.

Using the remote wand, she activated the intercom for her mansion. Her home, although it would probably take more than a few months for her to get used to it. “Olive, please pack my bags for an absence of several weeks.” On affirmation from her maid, she contacted her secretary to arrange passage. Having a staff to arrange these matters for her was comforting - years without that support had given her confidence that she could probably manage without, but the time and effort that they saved her was well worth the cost.

And these were her staff, not provided by her supposed-father or supposed-fiance. Or, for that matter, borrowed from one of the Steiner-Davions.

Isis was about to make another call when the video-phone pinged that she had another inbound call. Caller identification took a second longer before Galen Cox’s name appeared on the screen where she’d just replayed the earlier message.

“Galen,” she greeted him as his face appeared. “I was just about to call you.”

He nodded. “Then we have good timing. I was afraid that I’d be catching you in the middle of something.”

“It’s too urgent to wait until dinner tomorrow?” They’d scheduled that to celebrate his closing the deal with Irian. The final paperwork should have been signed this morning for twelve ‘Mechs of three different types, as well as a supply of parts to keep them upgraded. As she’d predicted, Irian had focused in on getting an immediate deal once Galen mentioned the possibility of offering a deal to Technicron instead. The discussion of prices had been similarly fraught until Galen had dangled an options clause for further purchasing. Sigmund Hughes wasn’t going to see the prospect of ongoing profits from SLDF sales be lost over a couple of million C-bills and had overruled Rivarez.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to cancel,” Galen told her. His regret sounded sincere. “I received orders today from the Commanding General to secure the deal here - job done already, as it happened - and proceed with all haste to Atreus. Apparently the political situation is blowing up there and he wants me to back-up our staff there in case the SLDF gets called to intervene.”

Isis nodded. “I was about to call you for the same reason. I just received a formal summons from the Speaker of the House, requiring me to attend as a witness for an impeachment hearing or provide reasons why I could not. I didn’t expect the question of the Captain-General’s identity to boil over like this, not unless one of the Mariks broke rank.”

However little some of the House might be offended that they’d been accepting the leadership of an imposter, the Prince of Regulus had some legal validity in his corner if it could be proven that the Mariks had supported someone outside their ranks for the office. The Mariks had first refusal on the post, so once one outsider had been elected then there was scope for another and the one thing that virtually every member of House Marik agreed on was that Kirc Cameron-Jones would take the Captain-Generalcy over their dead bodies.

Isis wasn’t quite as opposed, but only because she doubted the Regulan prince would really object to those exact circumstances. If it came down to it, she felt it was better to survive and fight another day than to die just to give Cameron-Jones a little satisfaction.

“I’m guessing it was a very short message,” Galen told her, shaking his head. “The impeachment isn’t over his identity. Kirc Cameron-Jones has presented evidence of massive embezzlement on contracts where the Word of Blake was involved.”

“...pardon?”

He shrugged. “It’s an open secret that Thomas was offering financial support to the Word of Blake in organising their Militia during the early 3050s.”

“Well, yes.” She did remember something of that. “It was a quid pro pro for technical support, but didn’t Parliament - or the defense committee at least - sign off on that, since the Word of Blake Militia would essentially count as an additional provincial force in the event of war?”

“That’s right,” Galen agreed. “But in addition to that, they were also siphoning off a few percent on their commissions for various contracts, with his tacit blessing.”

Isis nodded slowly. “I take it that it was more than the usual degree of governmental corruption?”

“Let me put it this way: I’m a Lyran and even I’m shocked.”

She rubbed her face. Galen was a long way from the stereotypical money-grubbing Lyran, but even so, he had to have seen a lot of corruption during his time in the AFFC. “Just how bad is it?”

“I don’t know for sure. Victor got reports when he was Archon-Prince that Thomas Marik had agreed to wink at up to three percent. But when he raised the matter, Cameron-Jones claimed that it’s closer to fifteen percent.”

“Fifteen - !” She realised she was half shrieking and tamped down on her words, taking a deep breath. “Those contracts are worth billions! Even if it’s just on the commissions… dear god, that’s a fortune.” It made the SLDF deal with Irian pale by comparison. “How could anyone have hidden that?!”

“The Blakists do control essentially all the FWLM’s interstellar communications. If they’d broken their codes - or been given them out right - then they could have doctored the numbers that everyone was getting.”

Isis tried to sit down and then realised that she was doing so anyway. “Surely an audit would turn it up?”

Galen nodded. “That’s why the Regulan MPs have called for documentation to be couriered from every major military contractor to Atreus and for a full and independent comparison between those accounts and the military’s. If they’re right then the difference will be in the hundreds of millions.”

“More like billions.” The FWLM wasn’t as large as the AFFC but it was still millions of soldiers strong and fielded one of the largest warship fleets anywhere, and the Word of Blake had been involved in modernisation of that force for over a decade. The sheer scale of the finances were mind-boggling. “My god.”

“They may not be able to prove that the Captain-General was involved,” the blond offered, in scant comfort.

Isis made a dismissive gesture. “Either he didn’t know and he’s incompetent, or he did know and they can bring treason charges. Unless the audit shows that the money isn’t being taken, the Captain-General is finished. And I can’t honestly think that Cameron-Jones would bring this up unless he was certain. He’d look like an utter fool if he was wrong.”

“Are you sure you want to go into that mess?”

“If I don’t, I’m abdicating all ability to do anything to mitigate it,” she replied. “Do you have travel arrangements yet?”

Galen shook his head. “My next call is the spaceport. I’ll have to travel commercial.”

“I’ve already got my secretary looking for seats, you can travel with me.” Isis gave him a crooked smile, looking for something positive. “Dropship food is terrible, but we can put a raincheck on our meal until we get to Atreus. There have to be some decent restaurants there.”

“We might have a narrow window of opportunity, before the hearings,” Galen warned. “But sure. It’s a date.”

Isis was almost certain that her cheeks didn’t redden at that phrasing. Almost.

“If he is out, do you have any idea who’s likely to replace him?”

She shook her head. “That’s the problem. Normally, I’d say Corinne was the most likely candidate but if the Word of Blake is tarred by a scandal, that’s likely to impact her as well. In that case Kirc Cameron-Jones is going to press his own candidacy and there’s Photon in the wings. Best case, Thomas abdicates in favour of one of them and throws his support to them in return for a pardon. At least that would let him leave office with some dignity and keep his family safe.”

“Do you think that that’s likely?”

Thinking back to the man she’d met on Tharkad, Isis winced. “Unfortunately, no.”

drakensis · « **Reply #27 on:** April 16, 2021, 02:42:02 AM »

Part Three - Atreus

I've seen the wicked fruit of your vine
Destroy the man who lacks a strong mind
Human pride sings a vengeful song
Inspired by the times you've been walked on

Chapter 15
Atreus City, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
9 April 3065

To her annoyance, Alys realised she wasn’t the only Marik lying in wait for Isis when her cousin arrived at the drop-port. Her nicely anonymous groundcar wound up parked right next to another that she recognised from the motor pool.

If I can recognise it, then probably neither of us is being as anonymous as we think, she noted. It wasn’t as if she’d spent all that long on Atreus until now.

When she reached the waiting lounge, accompanied by bodyguards and a couple of warm bodies to handle any luggage Isis had brought with her, sure enough she saw a similar little cluster around someone she knew well enough to recognise instantly, and who knew her just as well.

“Alys,” Corinne greeted her with warmth in her voice and only some suspicion in her eyes. “I see we both had the idea of welcoming the prodigal home.”

“If you asked Isis, she might not agree that Atreus is home.” The two groups jostled briefly around them, a dance so familiar that neither woman paid it any mind.

“That’s unfortunate,” the older of the two cousins - there was almost eighteen years between them - noted. “But at least she’s back in the League and setting down some roots.”

Alys shook her head. “On Irian, which she’s been dragged away from by this mess.”

Corinne sighed. “I wouldn’t blame her if she was mad. But there aren’t many Mariks left, we have to stick together.”

Despite their mutual grandfather’s huge brood of children by two successive wives, House Marik was rather threadbare in numbers, Alys mused. Besides her aunt Therese and her sons, Isis was the only remaining descendant of the marriage - unless the real Thomas Marik returned. And of the three children of the second marriage, Corinne’s father Paul was the only survivor. The next generation was similarly few in number - so far, only Photon, Corinne and Alys’ dead sister Ana had borne children.

“Would you like to try that line on Aunt Therese?”

Her cousin paused and then shrugged. “Given that Uncle Jeremy's career has been derailed a second time because of family politics, I'll pass.” Not that Marshal commanding Tamarind Military District was a bad position to retire from. There weren't many people who could give orders for Jeremy Brett to disobey, but the Captain-General was one of the exceptions.

Further prodding on that was cut short as the passenger gates opened and the dropship disembarkees entered the concourse. Both Mariks withdrew slightly behind their guards, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Even if this was for first class passengers, it was still rather public.

While a Duchess could have insisted on being allowed off first, Isis came towards the end of the throng, talking brightly with a blond man with clear military experience. He wasn’t in uniform but the cut of his clothes betrayed it and - Alys glanced down - his boots might not have spurs fitted but the option was there. Only AFFC mechwarriors wore those generally, which meant this was almost certainly the famous Galen Cox. Well, he wasn’t the sort of luggage she’d expected Isis to bring but it might work out well.

“Cousin, it’s been too long.” Corinne stepped forward into Isis’ personal space and kissed her on both cheeks. “I haven’t seen you since you were in your teens and now look at you.”

The youngest of the three Marik women affected surprise - perhaps more for the other passengers, who hadn’t all filtered out and into the customs area yet. “I wasn’t expecting a welcome party.”

“Well you did let us know when you were arriving.”

“I didn’t,” she protested.

Alys snorted. “You didn’t hide when you were arriving is what she means. Once your name appeared on the arrivals list, it got picked up almost immediately. Fortunately, I had it removed before the paparazzi spotted it. I’m guessing that that’s what tipped you off, Corinne.”

“Next time I’ll travel under a false name,” Isis grumbled. “No, SAFE would catch that…”

Corinne smiled smugly - her father being the Minister of Intelligence gave her a headstart there.

“Colonel Cox.” Alys offered him her hand as he tried to fade into the background. “I’m guessing you’re here on official business? Isis probably wouldn’t drag you all this way just to be her plus one.”

Galen accepted her hand with a rueful look. “Well, we had dinner planned and had to rearrange where after she got summoned here.”

“Cox…” Corinne mused for a moment and then her eyes widened. “The man who came back from the dead.”

“It’s a good trick, or at least better than the alternatives.”

“So uncle Thomas claimed… at least until recently.” She shook her head, trying to banish that issue from her mind. Probably unsuccessfully, Alys suspected.

The fact that the serving Captain-General of the Free Worlds League (since years before she’d even been born!) wasn’t actually her uncle had come as an utter shock to everyone in House Marik except Corinne’s father. It was hard not to be left reinvestigating everything and even the current financial scandal hadn’t entirely eclipsed it from her mind.

Eventually it might become the new normal. But not yet.

“Do you need to report in somewhere?” Alys asked Galen. “We can put you up if nothing specific’s been set up. It’s not as if we’re likely to run out of guest rooms, even as things stand.”

The Marik palace in Atreus City was centuries old. Entire academic careers had been built on it’s history, and as might be expected, at times it had sprawled out from the original site.

“I was planning on grabbing a Bachelor Officer’s Quarters at the local garrison. The reciprocal standards require them to put up with SLDF officers.”

Corinne shook her head. “They’re probably as overcrowded as the hotels are at the moment, with officers from provincial militias arriving from all over. That’s no way for us to treat a hero of the SLDF.”

Galen glanced sideways at Isis and then shrugged. “Well, I’ll accept your hospitality as long as the local SLDF representative doesn’t object.”

“You can make a call from the groundcar,” Alys offered, and extended one hand towards the door.

Corinne drew Isis with her and within moments they were on the road, the two new arrivals separated into the two cars. Galen made his call and received approval to guest with House Marik, then listened in amusement as she called ahead to advise her aunt of their expected arrival.

“Family politics?”

“Does it seem petty to you?” she asked the man. He’d been at the side of Victor Steiner-Davion for a decade and a half, he could hardly have avoided the politics of his homeland.

He stretched. “What lay behind the Federated Commonwealth Civil War? I hope for Isis’ sake that you’ve got a better handle on it than the Steiner-Davions did.”

It wasn’t a perspective she was happy with. The war had sparked the betrayal that had killed her parents. If the League fell into the same sort of conflict, the Krushers - her mother’s mercenary regiment, it was still hard at times to remember that they now looked to her for leadership - could go through a second cycle of carnage.

“I wish I could assure you of that.”

Galen adjusted his position in the seat. “Is there anything you can tell me? I am going to be asked to report on this. Do the charges stand up?”

She sighed. “For myself… I don’t know. There’s certainly been some padding of contracts. Tho… The Captain-General has admitted to us that he allowed it to an extent, but he swears he was only looking the other way for three to five percent.”

“Would that be enough to save him?”

Alys shrugged and glanced out of the car, seeing Parliament’s great dome off in the distance before more high rise buildings blocked it. “If it wasn’t for the issue of his identity dividing the family against him, probably. But there was already pressure to push him aside for Photon, or Corinne… or myself… well.”

The SLDF officer sighed. “Right.”

She considered. “One more thing I can tell you.”

“Oh?”

“William Blane is the Captain-General’s closest ally in the Word and he seems to back the idea of five percent. But there are a lot of other factions in the Word of Blake. And as far as I can tell, Uncle Paul is more closely aligned with another faction, which might mean that he’s the one with the best idea.”

“Your cousin Corinne’s father,” he said slowly. “And she’s a leading candidate to be the next Captain-General.”

“Read what you want into it,” she told him. She knew what it suggested to her.

Chapter 16
Telesian, Furillo
Bolan Province, Federated Commonwealth
25 April 3065

Reinhart Steiner found it comforting that Furillo was entering fall as he returned to the Ducal Mansion. Both Tharkad and New Avalon had broadly similar seasonal cycles to Terra, with their principal settlements in the northern hemispheres and thus the Federated Commonwealth might take this for spring, but Furillo was almost diametrically opposed in its seasonal calendar. The trees around the estate were terrestrial breeds that were beginning to show gold in their leaves and the chill in the air spoke of a bracing winter coming up, not the heat of summer.

“Your grandmother is waiting for you on the terrace,” the butler informed him on arrival and thus, the young Brigadier General (the Skye Rangers had quixotically elected not to follow the permitted german form of the rank, Brigadegeneral) followed the main hall and then took a familiar dog-leg out to the back of the palatial residence to where a broad paved terrace looked out over the formal gardens.

Iris Steiner, Duchess of Furillo and one time Margrave of the entire Cavanaugh Theater, sat on a chair looking out over the lawn and flowerbeds, a distant look on her eyes. A steaming mug of coffee was between her hands and Reinhart saw a carafe on the table next to her, alongside a plate of biscuits.

“Grandmother,” he offered, dropping to one knee beside her chair.

“Hmm?” She looked up, having apparently missed his approach in her reverie. Iris allowed him to kiss the back of her hand before ruffling his hair. “Do stand up, Reinhart, or better, pull up another chair. I’ve been waiting here for you to bring me all the gossip.”

He laughed and turned a chair so he could sit at an angle to her, neither blocking her view of the gardens nor out of her easy line of sight. Having commanded half the border with the Free Worlds League during the height of her career, and given his own father’s stellar performance as a commander - currently Caesar Steiner was the Generalfeldmarschall assigned command of all AFFC forces in Skye Province - he suspected that the duchess probably knew more about what was going on than he did.

“What would you like me to start with?” he asked. “The arguments over shutting down Tharkad City’s main fusion reactor for a two year refurbishment?”

“It’s Star League era,” she snorted. “It’d probably be good for three more centuries unless it got shot up during Peter storming the city, and if that happened we would have heard about it by now.”

Reinhart shrugged and picked up a small fairy-cake. He didn’t care if it made him look unmanly, he liked them. “It’s Peter’s money to spend.”

“It’s the capital’s infrastructure budget,” she grumbled. “And if that needs topping up out of the national budget or the Steiner family funds then it’ll hit us to some degree. And if you eat too many of those you’ll end up as fat as your father.”

“Father’s not that fat.”

Iris shook her head fondly. “Not for want of your mother trying.”

Reinhart snickered. His father was noted for his appetites, of various kinds, and it hadn’t shocked the royal court when he ended up marrying a professional chef. However ‘inappropriate’ it might be for the heir to a duchy, at most ten places removed from the Archon’s throne, to marry a commoner.

“He seemed to be in good spirits when I last saw him.”

“Caesar is always in high spirits, I should have probably reined him in more but it’s too late now. At least he’s happy.” Iris shrugged her shoulders. “And how about you, Reinhart? Are you happy? I thought Victor might have given you the Tenth Guards for yourself if he’d taken the throne.”

“Might have, could have, didn’t,” the younger Steiner replied calmly. “And in hindsight, I don’t think Victor ever intended to reclaim the title of Archon-Prince. He was always happiest on the battlefield.”

“I note that you avoid the thrust of the question.” His grandmother stabbed one finger at him, for a moment suggesting to him what a holy terror she must have been in her own service days, before reaching for the carafe to refill her coffee. She only filled the cup halfway though, topping it up from a flask hidden in the pocket of her jacket.

“And you complain about father’s drinking?” he asked wryly.

“I know my limits.”

Reinhart grinned. “Actually, I am. The Twenty-Fifth need a strong hand given how their last colonel was in Robert’s pocket. And transitioning them to a frontline command is just the thing after serving in the Lyran Guards. I hadn’t noticed but I think I’d gotten into something of a rut.”

“Hmm. Well, if a jumped up militia makes you happy then who am I to complain. Robert won’t have stopped with just the colonel though. His father was more thorough than that, and he’s a chip off that block.”

“I have LIC doing some digging but it’s a delicate balance to let them work without it turning into the sort of witch-hunt that damages morale.”

The Twenty-Fifth Skye Rangers were a very recent addition to that long-standing brigade, having formerly been the Alexandria FTM and before that, the Alexandria SMM. Neither the March Militias or the Theatre Militias had fit well with Lyran military customs and Peter’s solution to that had been to abolish those established in the Lyran half of his realm, transferring personnel and equipment into existing brigades (or in the case of the Coventry Strikers, creating a new one). The result had been a surprise reprieve for the Jaeger regiments established by the former Archon. While most commentators had expected them to be dissolved, instead the Bolan and Alarion Jaeger regiments had found themselves with sister regiments. Only the Skye Jaegers remained orphaned, since the militia units in Skye had been rolled into the Skye Rangers to open up the famously rebellious units to reorganisation and a quiet purge of the most hardline or high-ranking pro-Free Skye personnel.

Colonel Timmerman had been handled comparatively kindly: a transfer in grade to the Lyran Regulars where he’d be surrounded by loyal personnel and hopefully be swayed away from any further sedition. Other officers had joined the comparative flood of ex-LAAF mercenaries on Galatea and Outreach.

It was opening a lot of room for relatively junior officers like Reinhart or his cousin Sabine to jump up to positions that would have previously been years away. A bloody war or a sickly peace, as the saying goes.

“He calls himself ‘leader of the loyal opposition’,” Iris observed tartly. “I’d hate to see what disloyal opposition looks like.”

“Robert?”

She nodded. “Victor’s mistake wasn’t having Ryan killed, it was in not following through and purging the rest of them. A ruler can afford one really thorough purge of their opponents.”

“And Kathrina went too far in the other direction?” Reinhart enquired musingly.

“Correct.” She dipped a cookie in her coffee and shook off the droplets before putting it into her mouth. “Peter, I will reserve judgement on for now. He hasn’t really been tested yet.”

“Not by the Civil War?”

“He wasn’t the ruler yet,” the old woman told him dismissively. “He’s shaking things up, which is good, but the question is where they will settle. This ‘grand senate’ idea could bite him in the ass.” Reinhart choked and she gave him a sharp look. “I’ve seen plenty of asses in my time, Reinhart. Yours a few times when you were still wearing nappies that needed to be changed.”

“It does give everyone a stake in what happens with the Federated Commonwealth going forwards.”

“It gives a comparatively few elites a say in what happens,” Iris corrected him. “And look what that’s done for the Free Worlds League. Peter was right to send his brother here to straighten things out before we have a war across the border. Are your troops ready to deploy down there?”

He nodded. “Either aggressively or as SLDF peacekeepers.”

Iris shook her head. “This won’t be like Anton’s mess or the Andurien war. Once they turn on each other we could push the borders to back where they were in 2864.”

That was a little before Reinhart’s time - or his grandmother’s - but he took the point. The end of the Second Succession War had been the highwater mark of Lyran success against the League, with their forces in raiding range of the world that bore House Marik’s name, as well as strategic industrial worlds like Thermopolis and Irian. “And probably retake the worlds we lost in 3058, but the trade-off might be too high. I think Peter is still focused on rebuilding and preparing for outside threats looking to conquer us.”

“Like the Clans.” For the first time in a while, he saw Iris look uncertain. “Perhaps. Yet he managed to see them off easily enough at the end of the Civil War. I’m hesitant to dismiss them as a threat but they seem to be less of a problem now than they were when we first encountered them.”

“They weren’t seriously pushing. We’re better off when we were, but it’s still a risk.” Reinhart made a face. “Of course, if Sun-Tzu jumps in then we’ll have to step in. No one wants him picking up more worlds.”

Iris nodded. “Ignoring him was another mistake by Victor. But if I list those then we’ll be here all day.”

With a sigh, Reinhart decided to let it slide. He’d worked with Victor Steiner-Davion for years, and he both liked and admired his cousin, but there was a certain willful blindness on his part to how decisions like the election of Sun-Tzu or his open admiration and friendship for the ancestral enemies of both sides of the Federated Commonwealth…

“What’s been new here?” he asked, seeking a safer subject.

Iris blew on her coffee - although surely it must have cooled off by now - and took a sip. “Well, Defiance have been pulling older production lines out of storage and shipping them out to some very secret site off world. Using the space to extend their production. I don’t know what Peter’s up to there but it’s probably a better use of government funding than a reactor no one has complained about in as long as I can remember.”

“I haven’t had any briefings,” Reinhart admitted. “Probably because I’ve no need to know. But I guess it’s likely part of his grand ‘rationalisation.” While Defiance Industries was best known for their massive factories on Hesperus II, still the largest single BattleMech factory in the Inner Sphere, they also had a secondary site here on Furillo that mostly manufactured medium ‘BattleMechs.

“My suspicion is that he’s setting up secondary sites for parts, on worlds well away from the borders.” His grandmother sipped again and then licked her thin lips. “Not before time. Katrina looked at doing it and so did Melissa, but they always had higher priorities for their political capital. I’m guessing that Peter jumped on the opportunity to be a new broom sweeping clean, as he has so often.”

Chapter 17
Atreus City, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
12 May 3065

The ancient hall that housed the Free Worlds League’s Parliament had been rebuilt several times, sometimes due to expansions - it had once had only two hundred members, less than half the current size - and sometimes simply because maintenance had grown too demanding. The institution was in its eighth century after all, with the result that even architecture had fallen behind it. There had been talks about potentially closing and refurbishing it again in time for the octennial in 3071, but that seemed unlikely right now. The members would likely have other things on their minds.

Isis Marik wasn’t a member herself, but there was a sizeable visitor’s gallery that looked down on the purple and gold seating and the marble floor separating the chamber in two. Row after row of formally robed members sat there, with the highest seats on a level with the floor of the gallery above.

Enthroned at the far end of the room, beneath the great eagle emblem of House Marik, the Captain-General looked very small. He was dwarfed by the more than life-sized portrait in one of the arched niches above and behind the carved eagle. Isis knew from brief childhood explorations that the portrait, like the other three pieces of art on that wall, were changed every few years. Voting on that was one of the more minor issues that might be presented before Parliament.

Today, weightier matters had a hold though. She thought she saw tension growing ever deeper on the scarred face of the man she’d thought to be her father. But perhaps that was her imagination. He was probably too far away for that sort of detail.

A member from the Regulan Fiefs, one of the tiny provinces that were heavily influenced by their much larger neighbour, finished a denunciation of House Marik’s corruption. He differed in only a few words from that of some previous speakers, and she wondered absently if they shared a script or if there was just a dreadful lack of imagination to their preparations.

“You’re next,” Therese warned her, under her breath. The grey-haired Duchess of Tamarind was watching proceedings like one of the hawks she flew for sport.

“I know.” Isis left her seat and went to the end of the gallery.

The Speaker, Li Weaver, managed to make his formal thanks to the MP for his words sound almost sincere, and barely glanced at his agenda. “The House calls Duchess Isis Marik of Irian to address Parliament.”

“Objection,” a voice challenged even as the attendant started pulling aside the barrier that separated Isis from the stair down to the main floor.

She looked down but couldn’t tell which of the Members of Parliament had spoken. Their robes gave them some anonymity.

“We will hear the distinguished lady from Vanra,” allowed Weaver grudgingly.

The attendant gave Isis an apologetic look and held the barrier closed. She gave him a forgiving look, since it wasn’t his fault. Although if she’d come all this way to be sent away like a naughty child, it wouldn’t be amusing. Vanra was the main world of the Duchy of Orloff, a mid-size province with a more than respectable military force. Despite having broken off from the much larger Duchy of Oriente, their MPs usually followed the example of their neighbours and Duke Christopher Halas was the Captain-General’s father-in-law.

Either this was someone breaking ranks, or perhaps the Captain-General didn’t want her around for this. Given he’d awarded her Irian, that seemed unlikely. Unless he’d wanted her to stay there.

“There is no cause for us to hear from the words of a bastard whore of a Capellan,” the Member of Parliament declaimed with venom.

Oh yes. Orloff was right on the Capellan border. That would do it, she thought bitterly.

Weaver scowled. “The distinguished lady is out of order. You may consider yourself reprimanded and if this inappropriate language continues then I will remove your right to speak.”

The woman sneered. “Then I remind the House that the woman invited has spent almost her entire adult life on Sian or following a Steiner around Lyran space. What weight can be placed on her words other than that they were put into her mouth by her foreign friends?”

Before the Speaker could pick up that verbal gauntlet, the Captain-General leant forwards to whisper something. Whatever the words might bem they were sufficient to sway Weaver. “Per our proceedings, it requires a two-thirds vote to overrule an invitation to speak by the sitting Captain-General. Do I hear a vote to sustain this objection?”

There was a murmuring of voices, although the actual vote was electronic. Isis couldn’t see any of the screens that discreetly reported them but it must have fallen short for the attendant pulled back the barrier.

“Thank you.” She descended to the marble floor and crossed the narrow aisle, reaching the podium next to the throne. The Captain-General seemed to have aged a decade since she had met with him on Tharkad.

Before beginning her formal speech she leant over towards him, pitching her voice to be picked up by the microphones. “Orloff still permit duelling, is that right?”

“...they do,” he allowed.

Isis bared her teeth. “Good.” And then she stared at the Member from Vanra. “Should the ‘distinguished lady’ wish to discuss my merits or failings in future, I will have no difficulty finding seconds.”

There was a ripple - a mix of amusement and of distaste - through the seated Members. Clearly some would like to see the outspoken woman taken down a peg or two. Isis doubted there would follow any such challenge, but with this as groundwork, if there was any further outburst she could readily justify issuing one.

Isis might not be a mechwarrior herself, but she had done some fencing and she suspected the Member didn’t. Sword duels were entirely permissible.

“Ahem.” Weaver cleared his throat. “Your grace, you have been invited to speak on the matter of allegations of gross misconduct by the Captain-General, based on your personal knowledge of him. Please refrain from other issues or from filibustering.”

“Of course.” She paused and looked around the room. “The sitting Captain-General has led the Free Worlds League for almost three decades. The results? Victory in war, prosperity in peace. There are few leaders anywhere not only in our recent history but that of the Inner Sphere who can boast the same.”

“Is he perfect? No. But who here can say with honesty that they have never made a mistake. Is he my father? Also no, but since the actual Thomas Marik has been absent my whole life I can honestly say that the Captain-General has done a better job of fatherhood than my biological parent.” As poor as that was.

“I am not a financial auditor, and I understand that experts are already reporting far beyond I could on whether funds have been misappropriated. However, the question rests on whether or not the Captain-General knew. I have no facts to report that can definitively answer that question. Based on my knowledge of him, and reports upon the Word of Blake shared with me by both the members of House Liao and House Steiner-Davion -” Take that, Member from Vanra “- I think that it is very likely that the Captain-General authorised some limited padding of contracts in order to support the establishment of the Word of Blake Militia, reasoning that they could serve as a reinforcement in the event that the Clan War spilled over into the the Free Worlds League, or that we found ourselves at war with the Federated Commonwealth.”

Isis shook her head lightly. “From what I understand, the expectation that that support would be repaid was let down and I hardly think that such a successful leader would have reinforced failure. However, the Word of Blake is not merely an organisation. It is a doctrine and evidence overwhelmingly supports that it has supporters outside its known ranks. It would not surprise me - and more tellingly, it would not surprise analysts serving our neighbours - to learn that significant elements of our government have been subverted beyond anything that would be permitted by the Captain-General.”

“Many of those individuals may feel that they, as the Captain-General surely did, were serving the Free Worlds League by supporting an ally. I doubt if any great number have a full grasp of the extent of their collective impact. Indeed, the factionalism within the Word makes it entirely possible that even their membership do not know how deep or shallow their support is within the Free Worlds. Yet it unquestionably exists.”

“For all his great successes, I must count this as a failure on the part of the Captain-General. Not outweighing his meritorious record, but it is the duty of this House to address his complete record, neglecting neither the good nor the ill. And alongside this there is a second failure: the rising tensions that could potentially undermine the benefits his reign has led us to.”

She turned on the podium, seeing that Thomas ‘Marik’ was stone-faced. “The long reign of Janos Marik and our sitting Captain-General mean that few now can remember the last peaceful succession of a Captain-General. The disorder around the brief reign of Duncan Marik is an example we should not wish to emulate. I will therefore presume to counsel the Captain-General to cap his career with one more act of genuine merit and statesmanship: oversee a peaceful transfer of power to a chosen successor rather than letting your tenure end in bloody and avoidable conflict.”

There was a spark of anger in the Captain-General’s eyes. Isis reached for the podium and found the microphone’s mute button. With her head turned she hoped no one would have a good look at her lips. “For your family’s sake, sir,” she murmured.

And then she turned and nodded to Li Weaver, unmuting the microphone.

“Thank you for your words, Duchess.” The Speaker remained urbane. “I appreciate it has taken no small exertion for you to address the House today. I hope that you will be able to take the time to attend our ongoing debates.”

Isis nodded and then saw the Vanra representative standing again.

“Would the distinguished lady care to remember my former warning?” Weaver observed.

The woman squared her shoulders. “Duchess Marik, I withdraw and apologise for my previous remarks. I disagree with much of your position, but as you had the courage to present it, I am forced to recognise you as a true and patriotic daughter of the League.”

If that was sincere, it was something. She wasn’t sure what, but something.

Before she had reached the gallery again though, another Member of Parliament was at the podium. A distinguished gentleman from Regulus.

“I endorse the proposal that Thomas Marik should stand down, and put forward the name of Kirc Cameron-Jones as the next Captain-General.”

The response was a roar of mixed approval and opposition.

Therese Marik shook her head slightly as Isis reached her. “The moderate’s road is a brave one, but you’re just going to take fire from both sides.”

“Well, they say a politician is known by the stature of their enemies…”

Chapter 18
Arc Royal
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
31May 3065

Daniel looked up as his father entered the little cubbyhole that served him as an office at Arc Royal MechWorks. “Please tell me there’s not another problem.”

Barely taller than the desk, Clovis studied him and then shook his head. “I’m cutting you off from coffee. You need a full night of sleep. And maybe a weekend off.”

“I’ll take some time off when we get the bugs out,” he muttered.

“There are always more bugs. They breed.” The little man climbed into the seat across the desk and reached under it for a control. A gas cylinder hissed and the seat rose a few more inches, not equalling their eye-lines but at least putting them a little closer. “You, on the other hand, are breakable. Men are more fragile than machines.”

Considering the throbbing behind his eyebrows, Daniel couldn’t entirely dismiss that advice. “Well, at least when I have the issue with the framework around the torso lasers done? We’re still not getting the tolerances right.”

“You’ll do a better job once you’re rested.” His father gave him a heavy look. “And more importantly, your mother and sister will stop bugging me about you. Close and save your files. We can talk shop while you wind down and then I’ll drive you home.”

“I…”

Clovis ahemed and buffed the name badge on his jacket, the one that bore his official title. “Which one of us manages this madhouse masquerading as a Mech factory?”

“Okay, okay.” Daniel started saving his work. “I just… the Mackies are kind of my project. My contribution. I want this to go right.”

“You’re doing fine. You’ll just be doing better when there aren’t bags the size of a kroner… a sovereign, I mean, under your eyes.”

“So what else is going on?”

“I’m glad you asked.” His father tossed a print-out onto the desk. “Take a look.”

With his working documents closed, Daniel triggered the back-up function and then examined the document while he waited for everything to be copied to multiple secure servers elsewhere in the complex. “Looks like a Loader King loadermech, with guns.”

“Correct.” Clovis took the document back and flipped it around. “I got this from a contact in the Intelligence Secretariat. Don’t ask me where they got hold of it, but my understanding is that the Prince of Regulus has been shopping around smaller parts and assembly plants in his province of the League, trying to get this into production.”

“Bolstering his forces in case things go south for the League? Regulus only has five actual ‘Mech regiments.”

“They can influence several others, but yeah. Unlike the Marik Commonwealth and the Duchy of Oriente, Cameron-Jones doesn’t have any BattleMech production to fall back on. Without it, his forces could be depleted through simple attrition. But the Regulans do build a lot of the needed parts - Magna has a site there that makes lasers and reactors, for example.”

Daniel leant back in his chair. “How long has he been working on this? A conversion like the one we did during the war has its issues… as we found out. The Fifth Royals had more maintenance issues than any three other regiments. And we’re still trying to work out proper production lines to replace them.”

His father handed over a second printout. “He copied someone else’s homework, or at least that’s my conclusion.”

The diagrams and specifications here looked very similar to that which he’d just looked at. “Where did this come from?”

“Achernar of New Avalon.”

Daniel blinked. “Really?”

“Yup. When the Clan Invasion blew up, they were looking at possible ways to expand production to offset the loss of factories in Lyran space. One plan they had, which was pretty far advanced until the Truce of Tukkayid made it unnecessary, was to convert their own Loader King production line to build a BattleMech on the same chassis.”

“Sixty-five tons, fairly typical mobility for a heavy ‘Mech?”

“Yep. Armament isn’t great, but it’s a tough frame. Enough that they could fill out secondline units with it, focus more advanced machines on the frontlines.”

“There are some differences but they have the same basic concept. Does anyone in Regulan space build the Loader King,” asked Daniel, mind working on the problem.

Clovis shook his head. “Not until now. And they don’t appear to be worrying about a license.”

“Ouch.”

“I assume that Cameron-Jones doesn’t expect lawyers to get near him under the circumstances. He might be wrong, given the Star League. Or maybe not. Either way, Achernar are determined that if someone’s making money of their design work, they won’t be the only ones.”

Daniel frowned. “Another project?”

“I think we’re busy enough here, but I think it’s likely militia forces would be interested so I might contract to finish up their work and act as a middleman for some of the other companies who are finding Peter’s AFFC a harder buyer to deal with than they were hoping.”

There was a lot of rumbling about that in the military manufacturing sector. While it wasn’t hitting Arc Royal much, the Archon-Prince’s preferences were causing some rethinking in what was being offered and to what buyers. It wasn’t hurting mercenary buyers and noble retinues, since firms that were behind the curve were sometimes finding themselves forced to sell off high performance machines for less than they thought after AFFC buyers declined to contract for them.

It wasn’t as if the AFFC wasn’t buying. Just that they were being selective. Wolfhounds, a staple of Arc Royal MechWorks, were contracted several years in advance. And TharHes had relocated their production of the Wolfhound to a new and expanded site on Arcturus, with rumours that further expansion there would accommodate doubling production of the Bushwacker medium ‘Mech.

On the other hand… “Who are you thinking? Blackstone?”

“They were lucky to grab the SLDF contract,” his father agreed. “And they may not get that next year. But something they can offer to every militia within two jumps of them?”

“Is it a good idea to alienate so many of the manufacturers, right when he’s trying to rebuild from the Civil War?”

Clovis cupped his hands behind his head. “I’m not sure. Since the Clans hit us, there’s a sense in which the industrial side of the equation have been able to dictate almost everything here, particularly after the secession when Kathrina was buying support with favorable contracts. It wasn’t quite so bad in the other half of the Federated Commonwealth because Victor was so cash-strapped after ransoming jumpships from his… well, we assumed she was his sister. They had to economise. So it’s possible that this is just the same thing here. God knows, he must be struggling to balance his budget.”

Daniel saw that the back-up was done and logged out of his terminal. “I hope you’re right.”

“My guess is that one of the reasons Blackstone didn’t get much lately is that they’re too close to the Jade Falcons,” his father added. “A lot of new investment - start-ups like Felix Industries - is well away from any hostile neighbours. Or at least far enough away from other factory worlds that another invasion won’t have too much impact.”

“I wouldn’t have his job for all the money in the world,” Daniel admitted sincerely. He pushed back his chair. “Okay, dad, let’s go home.”

Chapter 19
Atreus City, Atreus
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
17 June 3065

The soup plates were just being removed by waiting staff and Galen could smell the steak on the plate being carried over when Isis grabbed her purse and pulled out her comm, which was visibly vibrating until she hit the accept key.

“How did you know it was going off?” he asked, bemused.

“It pages a receiver I’m wearing if anything urgent comes in,” she told him absently, reading the content of the unit’s screen. “I… Blake’s beard.”

“What?” Galen had almost never heard her curse.

Isis grabbed her purse. “We’re leaving,” she told him, not bothering to tell the wait staff anything. Then again, her staff had probably arranged how the bill would be paid at the time the table had been booked so that something as crass as money wouldn’t come up. It wasn’t as if House Marik would have trouble covering a couple of meals here, however outrageous the prices were.

Galen’s time with Victor had taught him that the rich were just like everyone else, except that they had money. And that royalty was just like the rich except that they never needed to even think about money. Well, not below the national budget level.

With a sad look at the steak, he pushed his own chair back and trotted after Isis. He sensed, rather than heard, the waiter following him and looked back.

“Would you like this in a roll to go, sir?” the man offered as if this happened every day.

Hot damn, now this was service! “Will the chef kill me?”

The waiter gave a faux chuckle at the joke and made a gesture up ahead. Before they reached the door a half baguette in a napkin was ready and Galen exited with his steak nestled in the bread. Which was, of course, excellent. “What’s wrong?” he asked Isis as they reached the elevators, her bodyguards already moving up around them.

“Security teams were just ordered to get every member of House Marik on the planet back to the palace, as an utmost priority,” she told him, hammering the call button for every elevator in the restaurant lobby. “We have a matter of minutes before one gets here.” One of the doors opened and Isis held one hand out, blocking him from getting on. “Not that one.”

“What’s caused that?”

A second door opened and Isis nodded slightly. Two of her bodyguards entered and unceremoniously dragged the two occupants out. The couple seemed more shocked than hurt. Isis, Galen and the four guards entered, Isis stabbing the button for the viewing lounge on the top floor of the building.

“Isis.”

She took a deep breath. “The orders came from Captain-General Corrine Marik.”

He hesitated. If Thomas had stood aside then this wouldn’t be necessary, probably there would be a discreet recall - if only so that everyone in House Marik sang from the same hymn sheet when the press started asking questions. But security teams… “A coup?”

Isis nodded jerkily. “And the security teams should be taking orders only from the sitting Captain-General. If they’re moving then they’ve already been compromised.”

A vision of Kathrina Steiner-Davion right before the explosion that demolished their hotel on Solaris VII crossed Galen’s mind. Family and politics. Damn! He hated this. “Why the observation deck?”

“The security team will have the parking garage and the exits below sealed,” one of the guards advised. “There’s no helipad so that should be the only way out.”

“I take it they’re wrong.” He bit into his steak sandwich. Might as well enjoy it while he could. The meat was delicious. He could only believe it would have been even better on the plate.

The man tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement.

“What about the others?” Galen asked as the doors opened onto the top floor of the skyscraper. It was domed in crystalline glass, potted plants and faux grass giving it the look of a garden in the sky.

“Everyone has an exit strategy.” Isis strode towards the southern view over Atreus City. “I don’t think anyone really wanted this, but it isn’t the first time House Marik has had an internal division. The question is, how many of those plans have been compromised.”

Her comm unit vibrated again in her hand. “Sixty seconds.”

One of the guards caught Galen’s hand and directed him towards a gazebo. “Ladies and gentlemen!” another announced loudly, catching the attention of those already in this part of the viewing deck. “For your own safety, please withdraw to the other side of the viewing deck.”

There was unsurprisingly a less than willing response. The woman removing an unnecessarily large pistol from inside her jacket was rather more convincing and almost everyone streamed away.

Galen tore another bite from his sandwich. It was just too surreal, he’d really rather be inside his ‘Mech if something was going on.

“Ten seconds,” Isis reported and crouched down inside the gazebo. “Take cover.”

He followed her example and then craned his head around as bright lights illuminated the dome from the outside. “What… oh you’re kidding.” He dropped his sandwich and put his arms around her protectively.

The southern side of the dome imploded as a helicopter descended, shattering the glass panels and snapping the metal struts holding them in place. Sturdier supports limited the damage but almost a quarter of the dome broke apart under the impact of the fuselage. Fragments rained down on the gazebo, none of them heavy enough to damage the roof or harm those beneath it’s shelter.

“Go go go!” one of the guards called, pulling Galen off Isis and hustling him towards the black-and-white painted VTOL that was shifting towards the edge of the rooftop. It hadn’t landed - even the partial dome would have obstructed its rotor blades, but enough was down that hovering just off the edge it could descend until the side door was level with the rail.

It took Galen a moment to recognise the design. “Where did you get a Kestrel?” he called as they reached the rail. As far as he knew, they were built exclusively for use by the Wolf Dragoons’ Seventh Commando special forces.

“This really isn't the time!” Isis called back as one of her guards lifted her and literally carried her in the brief hop across from the rail into the helicopter’s infantry bay. Someone inside was waiting to catch her.

Then it was Galen’s turn and he shook off the guard, making the jump. The Kestrel hatch opened downwards into the small wing surface that flanked the fuselage and that looked dangerously close to hitting the side of the building.

The man inside him who hustled him away from the door so that others could enter wasn’t wearing Wolf Dragoons pins, but his jumpsuit was the exact cut that Galen had seen them wear when he was on Outreach. He’d even worn some himself while going through training there.

There were other passengers aboard, Alys Rousett-Marik most prominently, and a half-dozen people that he guessed were her own bodyguards and staff.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Galen noted, taking a seat next to Isis and facing the other duchess. “Do I want to know who’ll pay for the damage to the roof?”

“It’ll probably cost less than hiring this helicopter,” Alys muttered. “Really, Isis, the Wolf Dragoons?”

“I was in a hurry,” the younger Marik said indignantly. “I haven’t had the time to get this sort of thing set up in-house! And the hotel will bill Corinne for the damage.”

“And she’ll pay? Is there a book of rules for this game or can anyone play?”

“The first rule is that winning excuses anything,” Isis told him seriously. “And yes, she’ll cover the damage. It’d be poor publicity not to. Although she’ll probably try to confiscate my finances, which would off-set the expense.”

“We can cover Civil War 101 later.” Alys pursed her lips. “Are you coming with us, Colonel Cox?”

“I suspect that Corinne would consider me an accomplice just for being here, so let’s say yes. I do need to report in at some point though.”

“Given the Word of Blake are probably backing her through her father, I wouldn’t suggest going to an HPG station around here.”

“Point.” He felt the helicopter veer away. “I take it we’re heading for a hidden dropship?”

“Yes. We need to be away before anyone has a solid grip on the orbitals. I hope you didn’t leave anything behind that you can’t live without.”

“Military lifestyle is hard on that sort of thing,” Galen told her. “And the whole false identity didn’t help.”

“Do you have any details?” Isis asked her cousin.

“We got enough warning that most of the family have a shot, I think.” Alys closed her eyes for a moment. “The most likely people not to get away really is the Captain-General and his family. They would have been in the palace already so…”

“I’d have to imagine that he was Corinne’s primary target,” Galen agreed. “Are we blind to what else is going on?”

“Not entirely, but we’re mostly monitoring military frequencies,” Isis told him, putting an earbud into one ear. “A lot of them don’t know what’s going on at the moment.”

The Kestrel wasn’t a slow machine and the lights of Atreus City were already invisible out of the tiny viewports. “Pursuit?”

“Normally, yes, but right now anyone with the ability to chase us has other concerns.”

It took less than thirty minutes before the helicopter descended, coming down what Galen would normally have said was an unsafe distance from a small dropship. It had barely touched ground before he felt it moving.

“We’re being towed into the dropship,” the loadmaster told him. “The dropship’s primed to take off the minute we’re locked down.”

Galen sat back in the seat. It wasn’t ideal to ride in while taking off, but better than some of the alternatives.

The ride up the ramp was as quick and efficient as he’d expected and interior lights for the troop bay brightened once the dropship door started closing behind them.

Isis sighed heavily. “Dammit.”

All eyes turned to her. “What?” asked Alys.

“Naval frequencies just lit up. The Captain-General and his family are aboard a warship and heading for a pirate point.”

“I’d almost rather Corinne succeeded,” her cousin said half-heartedly. “Do you think they’ll make it?”

“The Corinth is moving to intercept, but one of her escorts isn’t on board with that…” Isis bit her lip. “I don’t know, but we have to assume he’ll get to the jump point, so House Halas won’t back Corinne. She has no leverage.”

“And with two sides inside of House Marik, Cameron-Jones will have enough of an opportunity that he’ll continue his claim,” Alys concluded. “A three sided civil war. Damn, damn, damn…”

This is turning into a bad habit, Galen thought. Who’s next? The Draconis Combine? The Capellans?

Chapter 20
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
23 June 3065

Peter Steiner-Davion had slept on the dropship, scheduling it to arrive at a private landing pad behind Castle Davion first thing in the morning. That way he had his staff would have a whole day to get set up and deal with any immediate action.

His staff. Ha. That was hilarious. He’d thought when he was younger that his parents were overdoing it with the number of people they kept around them to support their work. Experience of actually serving as the Archon-Prince had shown him the error of his ways. So far it was taking four separate staffs to help himself, Yvonne and Catherine to keep track of everything - Yvonne’s own staff on Tharkad, Catherine’s here on New Avalon, his staff on Tharkad who were busy maintaining smooth interaction between Yvonne’s and the personal staff that had followed him to New Avalon… and one of the many chores he would have to do before his formal coronation in September would be establishing a permanent staff here to maintain communication between his personal staff and Catherine’s when he returned to Tharkad.

Even though the individual staffs were smaller than either of his parents, in total they needed more people just to get as much done. It really showed him the scale of the shoulders that he was stood upon.

Catherine was waiting for him, dressed casually and she surprised him by hugging him first. It had been almost two years since they met in person, he realised. And he’d been her main support from their reunion on Zaniah until right after the Battle of New Avalon. Peter wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let her cling to him for a few minutes. “Missed me?”

“A bit, yes.” She let go of him. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Draining.” He’d visited twenty different worlds on his way from Tharkad to New Avalon, meeting nobles, officers and officials to reinforce their support for his government. “I gather I have an easy first day?” He’d looked at his schedule yesterday, but something could have changed, for example… “Or has the Lucien Davion popped up again somewhere?”

Catherine shook her head. “I’d have mentioned that first thing.”

Peter sighed. “It’s like the Sword of Damocles hanging over us. Where is she? What is she doing?”

“If we’re lucky, a misjump. She’ll never turn up again or she will, but so late that she’ll be entirely irrelevant.”

Peter snorted. “That would be her getting off lightly. And if we’re not lucky?”

His elder sister made a face. “Since she didn’t turn up a week or two after New Avalon and start getting her own version of events out? She had a bolthole somewhere and is there, plotting a return.”

Rubbing his jaw, Peter conceded that she was right. And agreed with all of the other analysis that he’d been offered. But where that would be… that was another question. “Well, I guess we can stick with the plan then. A informal privy council meeting and then military matters?”

“Dress fitting between the two, unless you count that as military,” Catherine told him as they walked into the Castle.

He gave her a look. “Dress uniform, Catherine.”

“A pretty costume for a special occasion is a pretty costume for a special occasion.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong, he conceded. But there would be no skirt unless someone had snuck kilts into the uniform code without telling him. His coronation would be the highlight of his first Royal Court as Archon-Prince, so what he wore would actually matter, however little he enjoyed being fitted for a suitably ornate uniform. It would also essentially unveil the new dress uniform for the reunified Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth. The original uniforms had had distinct Lyran and Suns versions, and that was just going to have to end.

A short elevator ride brought them up to one of the administrative wing of the Castle and they entered the traditional meeting room of the privy council. Most of those attending were dressed more formally than Catherine, despite the fact the meeting was supposed to be a low key way for Peter to get to know them.

At least he had plenty of recent practise pressing flesh, Peter mused as he worked his way around them. Most were somewhat familiar to him, at least by reputation. But that wasn’t a substitute for face to face meetings, particularly when getting a feel for what might be between the lines of their memos.

Having worked his way around from Count Garek Davion - one of Jackson Davion’s many close cousins and the Minister of Administrative Services - to his second cousin once removed Angela Hasek, representing the Capellan March Ministry, Peter took the seat at the head of the table with Catherine at his left hand and Bishop Sortek at his right. “It’s good to meet you all at last. I’d have liked to come here sooner, but the Whitting Conference slowed sorting out affairs of state on Tharkad.”

“I recall your parents wanted to operate a cycle of dividing the year between Tharkad and New Avalon,” James Sandoval offered. The Duke was representing the Draconis March Ministry in person, an unusual choice but a welcome one. Keeping the Dukes of Robinson and New Syrtis favourably inclined towards him would ease a lot of Peter’s burdens. “Do you plan to adopt that policy?”

“I don’t think it’s going to be practical in the short or medium term.” Peter rested his hands on the table. “With the Whitting Conference every three years and the current expectations for likely military threats, I expect to need to spend most or all of 3067 on Tharkad, so currently I’m planning on spending the next year and a half on New Avalon or nearby… up until Christmas next year, most likely. So for now it’ll probably be around eighteen months on each capital.”

There were nods around the room. Good, because that was more or less forced on him. “I know Catherine’s impressions but what would you say is the biggest issue we’re facing right now?” he asked.

Heads turned as the Ministers wondered who would be first to speak up. It was Angela Hasek, as it happened. “I would say the suggested creation of new Marches, your highness.”

“As we’re being informal today, you can all call me Peter when we’re meeting like this.” He glanced at James Sandoval. “Would you agree with that assessment?”

“It would be one of the biggest administrative events in over five centuries,” the older man observed. “Which may mean that it’s time for something like that.”

“I’m less convinced.” Angela seemed to have strong opinions. “Other than trying to match the Lyrans by having five internal divisions, it seems to have little benefit.”

Peter raised his hand before anyone else could pour oil onto the fire. “Let’s be honest, the so-called Outback worlds have had legitimate grievances about how they’ve been last in House Davion’s priorities for far too long. Reforming the Outer March in some form is essentially a done deal, although I am quite content for it not to affect the Capellan March if you and George are confident that worlds under your administration wouldn’t benefit.”

Angela nodded and James glanced over at his counterpart for the Crucis March, Conrad Davion. The young man had stepped in as Peter and Catherine’s deputy for the traditional fief of House Davion after short but successful military and diplomatic careers. “I think Conrad and I have worked out a good basis for which regions should be included in an Outer March, drawing on current boundaries and economic numbers. There would still need to be new appointments for their leadership.”

“The area is already getting strong investment. Is a new March really necessary?” asked Tames DuVall. The Minister of Ways and Means was from another of the major New Avalon political dynasties, though his branch of the family had left the world centuries ago. “The budget is already strained.”

“Shortening lines of communication in the more farflung worlds will pay off in the long term,” Catherine commented quietly. “The Terran March is more questionable financially.”

Glancing around the room, Peter didn’t see anyone disagreeing. “That’s fair and most of the people I’ve met in the Terran corridor didn’t seem to be motivated to push for the idea. I still want a presentation on the possibilities, but if we can agree on the Outworlds then the Terran March can be put on the backburner. If nothing else, the situation there is still more fluid than I like.”

“If you want to save money,” offered Bishop Sortek, “I’d be delighted to switch our purchasing away from Quikscell. The amount of money we waste fixing everything that gets shipped from their factories is a nightmare.”

“Do we have alternative sources?” They built some benchmark vehicles for the AFFC and they were litigious when it came to anyone copying those designs.

To his surprise, Catherine spoke up. “There’s a new start-up building vehicles that could fill most of their roles. I’ve approved funding for them under the military industries reform program. Their factories can start building basic light artillery vehicles and mid-weight tanks.”

“Hmm. Parts?”

Sortek smiled toothily. “They have licensed spare parts production out to companies that operate a much better level of quality control. Without that we’d probably not be able to use their output anyway.”

Peter considered and then nodded. “Starting from the end of the next financial year, cut them out of procurement. Alright, open floor. I understand Jackson Davion is looking to retire, maybe managing the transition would be a good job for him to handle while his successor is getting up to speed - something to talk about this afternoon, Bishop. Alright, everyone. What else do you feel should be high in my priorities right - ?”

There was a chime from the console built into the table. Outside communications were usually filtered save for important and urgent matters during meetings.

“I haven’t been on-world for more than an hour.”

Catherine shrugged. “At least whatever it is waited until we’d all woken up.” Then she reached over and accepted the call.

“My apologies,” the speaker on the other side of the channel began. “There’s been a high priority message via HPG.”

“What about?” asked Peter, resting one arm on the table.

“The Free Worlds League appears to have broken out into a civil war, your highness.”

The Archon-Prince pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “Well, I did just open the agenda for suggestions,” he muttered, half to himself. “Send the message through. Unless anyone has anything they feel is more important, we may as well all read this at once…”

drakensis · « **Reply #28 on:** April 16, 2021, 02:43:46 AM »

Chapter 21
Hyppo, Augustine
Marik Commonwealth, Free Worlds League
18 July 3065

Galen had grown his beard back out in preparation for a discreet journey back across the border and Alys had used her influence over Augustine’s government to have an FWL passport issued to him under the name of Jerrard Cranston. That and contact details for a free trader operating out of Rochelle should get him as far as Solaris VII and from there he could rely on his contacts in the AFFC and ComStar.

Isis wasn’t sure she liked the beard. Galen looked good with it, but it had been itchy when she kissed him goodbye in the drop-port lounge.

“Public displays of affection already?” Alys asked him once they were back in the discreet groundcar that would whisk them back to the ducal palace.

“Just maintaining cover. We looked like family seeing him off and all the other wives were doing that when they or their husband was departing.”

“Oh, planning the marriage already?”

“I only kissed his cheek, Alys!” she snapped, hoping her cheeks weren’t too red.

Her cousin laughed. “Well you’re probably not pregnant just from that…”

“Oh shut up!” Isis snapped.

Officially, Alys was the only one who had arrived on her homeworld. If the security services thought Isis was still in transit somewhere then they might have to spread their resources thinner. It would be extremely bold for them to try to arrest a duchess at the seat of her power, but a visiting cousin might seem like a softer target.

The elder of the two didn’t shut up, but she did change the subject: “Are you sure you don’t want to go directly back to Irian?”

“As tempting as it is, our two worlds alone won’t be much of a firebreak.”

Thomas ‘Marik’ and his family had successfully reached a jump point with two warships before Corinne’s adherents had managed to catch up. From there they’d taken refuge within Christopher Halas’ Duchy of Oriente and were busy welding together a coalition to stand against the usurper. While messages via the Blakist-controlled HPGs should probably be taken with a pinch of salt, it seemed that both the Duchy of Orloff and the neighbouring Protectorate - once Anton Marik’s power base fifty years before - had pledged themselves to that cause, providing a solid power bloc on the Capellan border, if the scattered Orloff and Oriente regiments could be re-amassed.

Corinne’s own position was also solidifying with both her paternal grandfather, the Earl of Stewart, and the more distant Graham-Marik kin acknowledging her as the Captain-General. She hadn’t received much more than that though, and many federal units hadn’t declared themselves… at least, not as far as Isis or Alys had managed to find out.

The two largest provinces not to commit so far were the Principality of Regulus - naturally, given Kirc Cameron-Jones’ ambitions - and the distant Duchy of Andurien. If the latter sided with Thomas then Duchess Humphreys would almost certainly bring the entire Ryerson Military District with her, seriously threatening the Regulans’ ambitions. If she declared for Corinne then it would leave the deposed Captain-General and the Regulans with enemies on all sides.

But even more likely than that was that Dalma would renew her grandmother’s ambitions for independence from thirty years ago. And there was very little in the way to stop her. Both the Canopians and Capellans bordered that corner of the Free Worlds League but it would serve both of their interests to have a comparatively weak buffer realm there rather than the mighty League.

“Everything between Stewart and Terra is in flux,” warned Alys. “It would only take one officer in the wrong place and you could find yourself in custody.”

“If I do nothing then I might as well be in custody.” Isis glanced out of her window. “Sigmund Hughes granted me representative authority when I left for Atreus, second only to that of our MP. And since she gave her duress code during her statement of support for Corinne…”

Honestly, the coup on Atreus had been so mis-managed that she was beginning to think that it hadn’t been planned with success in mind.

“I can negotiate with the governments of Savannah and Connaught before returning home. If they agree to a pact of neutrality then we can rely on Technicron and Kong Interstellar as well as Irian to supply whatever forces we can field.”

Alys nodded. “I’ll send word to officers I know and talk to my own neighbours,” she confirmed. “Van Diemen IV may be feeling vulnerable now that the Third Oriente Hussars pulled out to head for home, they might be willing to throw in too. Not that they have much but militia-grade troops, but every little helps.”

“Be careful about your neighbours,” warned Isis. “They may be more loyal to Corinne than you want.” Augustine was still part of the Marik Commonweath after all. Three of its nearest neighbours were also members of House Marik’s personal province, while Berenson was base for the Fifteenth Marik Militia, a reinforced regiment that seemed to be cautiously favorable to Corinne’s regime.

“Right now, Corrine has more to worry about at the other end of the Commonwealth. Atreus is only two jumps away from Regulus, and Cameron-Jones is only holding off his own candidacy because he’s still pulling his own forces together.” Alys reached across and took Isis’ hand. “The real worry I have is the FedCom. You know Peter Steiner-Davion better than I do. What will he do?”

Isis frowned. “Not very well,” she cautioned. “But… I don’t think we have to worry about a sweeping assault, like Operation Rat. He doesn’t have forces in place and this probably caught him as offguard as the rest of us. Besides, he’s on New Avalon…”

“His brother is on Bolan.”

She conceded the point. “And he’s also worried about the Clans. The Jade Falcons have invaded three times in the last fifteen years, and Clan Wolf’s Khan openly told Victor that they’re just waiting for the Truce of Tukkayid to run out. But if we collapse into small conflicts, the Chaos March all over again, I couldn’t rule out opportunistic attempts to take soft targets.”

Alys nodded in understanding. “The Sirians, for example. The Concordat is like a dagger against his Terran Corridor, but if federal forces move out then there’s only the three regiments of the Sirian Lancers to defend them.”

“That would be the high end of what I’d expect,” Isis agreed. “There are also isolated worlds - it wouldn’t take much for the AFFC to push the border far enough back that Peter was in position to threaten Dieudonne. That would essentially let him neutralise half his border with the League, which could be tempting if the bulk of his mobile forces are committed elsewhere.”

Dieudonne was the command centre for the military district that took its name from the world, almost a quarter of the Free Worlds League, including both Irian and Augustine. Losing it, or even having to worry about reorganizing around another headquarters would severely hamper any coordinated military action by the FWLM in the area.

Alys pursed her lips and leaned back, releasing Isis’ hand. “Then building a power bloc wouldn’t just deter the various claimants from trying to drag us into their mess,” she observed. “It would also warn the Archon-Prince off.”

“I agree. It’s very unlikely that anyone would be able to convince him to authorise an attack that could drag him into a wider conflict. If nothing else, that could drag the Star League in and right now he looks like being the only viable candidate for First Lord in 3067.”

“I thought that you said he didn’t want it?” Alys gave her a questioning look.

Isis shook her head. “He didn’t want the title then, he was still feeling out how to handle his new responsibilities and needed to show his focus was at home. But by the next Whitting Conference, election would cement his status as having brought his realm back from the Civil War. I’m not saying he has to have it, but it would be a useful political point to score and it probably wouldn’t be difficult for him to get the position - unless they open it up to new members, it has to be him or the Captain-General and what do you reckon the chances we are there’s a clear Captain-General by then.”

Her cousin frowned. “A year and a half from now… Worse than they would have been if Thomas had died, or had the good grace to just live in exile. Corinne could probably have accepted his being under Halas protection.”

“Grace isn’t something he does well.” Isis thought about her aunt Therese and then about her grandfather Janos, who she didn’t remember having met - he’d died when she was a baby. “I suppose most Mariks are like that. Maybe it’s a learned behaviour.”

“The keyword in ‘being a good loser’ is ‘loser’,” pointed out Alys, which rather seemed to prove Isis’ point.

drakensis · « **Reply #29 on:** April 16, 2021, 02:45:04 AM »

Part Four - Dieudonne

My stage is shared by many millions
Who lift their hands up high because they feel this
We are one we are strong
The more you hold us down the more we press on

Chapter 22
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
25 August 3065

Several weeks and scores of light years later, if not in a straight line, the cousins met again in Isis’ mansion on Irian. Jumpship diplomacy was wearing, Isis had found. She hadn’t even visited a planet, simply hopped from system to system and engaged in long range transmissions with the leaders of the worlds she was travelling past. Travelling to the planets and back would have taken about twice as long as was needed for the jumpship drive to recharge, so to visit as many people as possible she’d spent much of her time at jump points.

The meeting room was more of a secondary dining hall, but Isis had ordered a modern holo-display installed so it could serve for conferences. At the moment, the entire Free Worlds League hung in the air above the table, casting a purplish glow across the faces of those present.

“Your grace, I’m happy to attend this meeting.” Lucy Mountash’s face suggested less than total sincerity. “However, as I understand it, the provincial government remains Irian’s Board of Directors.” The general of the Seventh Free Worlds Legion had the decency not to add ‘rather than you’ to that statement.

“I’ve discussed this with Sigmund Hughes,” Isis replied, having expected this. The meeting with Irian’s CEO had been gruelling but with one of his major supporters, the Humphries voting bloc, on shaky ground, Isis had been able to bring him around. She tapped a control on her comm and sent a file to those of the FWLM officers present. One of those little groundwork details that let her not only keep the meeting going but also to look organised and on top of things. Of such details, leadership was made.

“I’ve sent you all copies of a formal decision of the board, appointing me as ambassador plenipotentiary of the Irian provincial government, with full authority to negotiate on their behalf with other Free Worlds provinces and federal authorities, including the military.”

It was an exceptionally open-ended remit, but either Hughes or Isis could cancel it essentially at will. Of course, the moment either of them did, that would also terminate Hughes’ authority to vote as Isis’ proxy during shareholder meetings. For now it would serve them equally well - Isis could essentially direct Irian’s foreign policy with Hughes backing, while he would retain and even enhance his dominance over the Board of Directors. And best of all, from his point of view, it would mean Isis spending even more time off Irian.

Kelian Brackley was the first to finish reading the document. “This seems to be in order,” the commander of the Twelfth Atrean Dragoons confirmed. “I trust that you won’t be asking anything that would violate our oaths to the Free Worlds League?”

Mountash eyed him and then nodded. Isis hid a sigh of relief. Brackley had been brought in by Alys, who had an old friend in the Twelfth Dragoons, but he was also well acquainted with General Mountash. The two of them had served together during the 3058 invasion of the Federated Commonwealth.

“I respect those oaths and your commitment to them,” Isis assured Brackley. “We are faced by a civil war and I’ve had more opportunity than most people in this room to see how damaging those can be.”

“By all reports from the Federated Commonwealth, their conflicts were devastating,” agreed Mountash.

Isis shook her head. “Predictions by Victor Steiner-Davion’s staff were for a conflict lasting three to four years as their best case scenario. If Peter Steiner-Davion hadn’t returned and so suddenly tipped the balance on New Avalon, it is very probable that the Steiner-Davions would still be fighting each other, at the same horrendous cost in both material, infrastructure and lives. On Coventry, a warship bombarded the surface - I was in the system at the time - and a similar attempt was only narrowly averted over Kathil. And now we have not only regiments taking sides between the factions claiming the Captain-Generalcy but warships. Indeed, more than a dozen warships are reported as having left their patrol areas without orders, and it’s unclear who, if anyone, they answer to.”

“So what do you want from us?” Colonel Reissing cut to the heart of the issue.

“There’s going to be considerable pressure on all of us to pick sides,” Alys told him. She indicated the holo-map. “With the Prince of Regulus declaring himself as Captain-General, there’s now a three-sided war, which could potentially rage across most of the League with three of the largest provinces each taking different sides. But there are still sizeable areas where none of the three claimants have a strong power base.”

The colonel of the Thirteenth Marik Militia nodded slowly. “In particular, our border with the Federated Commonwealth.”

While the Capellan border region was a network of comparatively powerful provinces that had enlarged themselves at the expense of their weaker neighbor since the fall of the Star League, almost three centuries before, the Lyran border had always been a more even contest, with worlds changing hand back and forth. As a result, there were very few multi-systems provinces along the border, and none to rival the great powers of the Free Worlds League.

But as a result, there were few leaders who could bring great swathes of the border to the side of Corinne, Thomas or Kirc. Appeals to the provinces would no doubt be made but for now the focus was on swaying more prominent sources of support.

Isis indicated the lines marking out the four military districts that functioned as the main administrative divides within the FWLM. “Oriente and Ryerson districts include the vast bulk of the Halas and Cameron-Jones support base, with Andurien contemplating secession at the far end of Ryerson district and a smattering of Corinne’s supporters at the nearer end of Oriente. It’s unfortunately all but unavoidable that these regions will be fought over fiercely and that’ll pull units away from the border with the Federated Commonwealth where the bulk of the Marik Commonwealth will make it difficult for Halas or Cameron-Jones to gain traction.”

“Doesn’t your aunt control Tamarind District?” asked Brackley. “Her husband is the Marshal there.”

“More influence than control,” admitted Isis. “We’ve had messages that Duchess Marik managed to reach Tamarind, along with her son Photon, but as far as we’ve heard there have been no further suggestions to put him forward as Captain-General. From what we can tell, Marshal Brett and our aunt are focusing on maintaining the security of the region and aren’t throwing their support to anyone.”

“That leaves Dieudonne,” continued Alys smoothly. She took control of the map and focused in on their quarter of the League. “We’re closer to the likely battlefields of between Corinne and Thomas, so we’re in ready striking range. Any of the industrial worlds of the region throwing their support to one of the claimants could tip the balance, but for that reason anyone who does is opening themselves up to raids or even invasion.”

On the map, the industrial worlds lit up in orange, flames that threatened spread to their neighbours.

“And on the border with the Commonwealth, we’ve already seen units being pulled away from fight for the central regions of the League. Something that’s opening up vulnerabilities if the Federated Commonwealth elects to take the opportunity.”

More orange lights. More fires.

“I realise that fighting over a vacant throne has been the norm for long before any of us were born.” Isis could see the reflected light glittering in Alys’ eyes. “But if we take anything from the Succession Wars, let’s acknowledge that a multi-sided war is unlikely to end quickly or without massive collateral damage.”

“So what’s your solution?” asked Mountash. She reached into her uniform jacket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it without asking permission. “You have a plan, I assume?”

Isis nodded. “We have agreements from seven other provinces in the area to declare our neutrality in terms of who becomes Captain-General. And because that neutrality would be toothless without the arms to enforce it, we also have support from three major military suppliers to prioritise provincial and federal forces that remain neutral. We intend to continue approaching provincial and military leaders in this region to ensure that whoever emerges triumphant in this war, that we still have a functional Free Worlds League for them to lead.”

Reissing rubbed his chin. “So, you don’t care who wins?”

“If I thought any of them were clearly a good choice, I’d throw my support behind them,” Alys told him. “But at this point all we can really do is try to mitigate the damage they do.”

“Four regiments is a start.” Brackley pushed his chair back and stood to lean into the hologram of the League. “Who else do you think can be persuaded?”

“Five.” Isis indicated Connaught. “The Eighteenth Marik Militia have agreed to remain in place on Connaught. They didn’t manage to get a representative here, but they’re on board.”

“Even better.” Brackley glanced at the other two officers present. “What about the two of you.”

General Mountash snorted. “The last orders I had from Dieudonne or Atreus were to ensure Irian was secure. This seems to fit with that.”

There was a pause and everyone looked at Reissing, who smiled slightly. “If either of you decides later that this is a base for appointing yourself Captain-General, I will be displeased.” He didn’t expand on what that would involve, but Isis thought it was as good as they were likely to get.

“Alright, so we might be able to convince the Sixth Legion to sign on with that,” offered Mountash. “They got gutted by SAFE a few years ago and there’s a lot of resentment. They’re on Oliver, facing the Commonwealth so a guarantee of supply lines and support if they come under attack should carry a lot of weight...”

Chapter 23
Castle Davion, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Commonwealth
7 September 3065

“So, I think we have one last thing to decide,” Peter said as the meeting with Angela Hasek wound to an end. “Unless you can think of anything more?”

She shook her head. “If you mean the decision about the new Capellan March Militia unit, then that’s the last point on my agenda.”

Peter leant back in his chair and massaged the fingers of his right hand. He’d signed so many papers since becoming Archon-Prince that he was beginning to think the Kurita system of a hanko stamp might be sensible. “Are there any new arguments from Tikonov or from Nanking?”

His cousin shook her head. “They both have reasonable arguments but we really can’t afford both.”

“They also both have some rather unreasonable arguments and are trying my patience. Particularly with Earthwerks and Ceres Metals dragging their feet for thirty years on expanding their production to what it should be.” Peter brought up a map of the region again, he’d had to consult it a few times already this meeting so it was at least close to hand. “I don’t want to reward this sort of behaviour.”

“Well, it’s really going to have to be one of them.”

Peter’s eyes picked up a name on the map. There was something… “Remind me,” he said slowly. “Hampton’s Hessens… the mercs. I heard something about them receiving substantial military donations from the nobility of New Hessen, back in 3062?”

Angela paused. “I’m… not sure,” she confessed.

Typing a query into his console, his ever-efficient staff returned a reply in moments. “Yes… they did. They’ve been rebuilding gradually since we took New Hessen back in 3028 and destroyed two of their three regiments. It seems like they’re planning on heading to Galatea and seeking new contracts.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure they’ll be much loss.”

Peter nodded slowly. “They refused point blank to be sent to fight the Clans, but to be fair, that was 3050 when it was a chancy proposition anyway. And otherwise they’ve been very loyal to their homeworld.”

The Minister of the Capellan March gave him a puzzled look. “What does this have to do with the March Militia?”

“I don’t really want that much metal running off, and New Hessen has at least been quiet. It’s not badly placed either, if we do need another March Militia in the Chaos March area this would space the command worlds out. So we’ll designate New Hessen as the command world for the PDZ for now and base the March Militia there. Let’s harness some of that martial fervour for our own benefit. We might be able to tempt some of the Hessens to stay and join”

“That’s…” Angela frowned. “Well, it’s Solomonic, I’ll give you that. I was leaning towards Nanking personally, since they were at least loyal through the collapse of the Sarna March.”

“If this works out we should be able to divert some of what we needed to build the new CaMM unit into creating a Training Battalion on Nanking. That gives them something and it’d be the seed for their own March Militia if we decide on that later.”

“Well, it’s a decision. Not the one that I was expecting, but at least that’s off the list of pending business.” His cousin made a note. “And with that, we’re more or less done on time. I’d offer to stay and socialize, but honestly, I have plans tonight so I want to get prettied up.”

“Have fun,” he told her and started clearing his desk. As his cousin left he heard an exchange of greetings with someone else in the outer office. “Hildgard, is my sister here?”

“Yes sir,” his evening secretary confirmed. She was a practically-minded young woman from a baronial family on Gallery, a world with strong ties to House Steiner. He hadn’t met her with hiring her in mind, she’d been one of the many ladies of suitable age and social status paraded through the royal court after he accepted the post of Archon-Prince. While they hadn’t hit it off the way her father had hoped (probably because she was currently seeing a leutenant in the Fifth Royals), he had remembered her name and evident intelligence when he saw her name on new hires being vetted for staff positions.

“Send her in,” Peter directed. “And if you’ve cleared what’s on your desk, you can take the rest of the evening off. I don’t have anything official left on the schedule.”

“Are you sure, sir? I believe you could work in press release if you really want?” But her voice was teasing.

“Get out of here while you still can,” he growled with mock menace.

Catherine slipped through the door and closed it behind her. “You know there’s serious money riding in the two of you having a secret relationship.”

“I could do worse, but no.” Peter shook her head. “Besides, she and Fredrica are very sweet together. And please stop bringing up my need to marry. I get that enough from almost everyone else.”

“Captains shouldn’t marry, majors may,” his sister recited. “Lieutenant colonels should and Colonels must. Archon Princes… um, that didn’t really fit in.” She thumped her head in frustration. “Colonels should and princes must?”

“I think the moment has passed,” he offered. This was going to be difficult but at least that seemed to just be a more normal flub rather than her actually ‘skipping tracks’ as he’d heard it explained. “Take a seat.”

“Can I? They’re much nicer than my office’s.” Then she paused and shook her head. “No, just one seat wouldn’t match the rest of the decor.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. “Are you playing it up?”

“A bit,” she confessed as she sat down facing him. “If people think I’m a little dotty they underestimate me. Of course, sometimes it’s for real, but less often than it used to.”

“How is therapy doing?”

“I don’t think that my therapist believes half what I say, but I guess she’s still helping me so I don’t take that personally.”

Turning his chair slightly, Peter looked at the sky outside. The office was so high that the light pollution from Avalon City at the foot of Mount Davion was barely visible. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t wandered up to St Marinus,” he confided. “Then I remember what you predicted and I don’t want to know any more details.”

Catherine nodded soberly and said nothing.

Breaking what was coming to be an uncomfortable silence, Peter worked up his nerve. “Cat, we need to talk about where you’ve been spending some of the Davion family funds. They’re not quite as deep as the Steiner Trust, but you’re pushing a lot of money into some of your ventures and it’s having some knock-on effects. Not to mention it’s going against some of the policies I’ve been setting.”

She blinked, looking suddenly on the brink of tears. “Sorry,” she mumbled and he thought she was apologising for her actions, but then she pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Was she actually crying? Catherine took a deep breath and then faced him. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “That caught me off guard for some reason. Go on.”

Peter nodded slowly. Was Catherine more fragile than he’d thought? Or - horrible thought but almost reflexive after the last two years - was she manipulating him. I should speak to her therapist, he thought. And Yvonne. Doubting her motives made him feel sick, he was trusting her with so much and who else could he trust?

I must find someone, he thought. If nothing else, I’d want her to come to Yvonne’s wedding so she’ll need to leave New Avalon for a while then. “You know we’re looking at possible withdrawing from Twycross and removing the factories there if we can do it without crippling the tooling in the process. So why did you send an expedition to the system to prospect for some sort of chemical compound.”

“Ah.” His sister looked troubled. “I thought… no, blast it. I hadn’t told you, had I? I could have sworn… I must have rehearsed pitching it to you and then got that in my head as if I’d gone ahead.”

“Cat?”

“Harjel,” she told him abruptly. “The stuff the Clans use for sealant on their battle armour, even for some of their warships?”

“Yes, I know about it.” It was one of the technologies that they hadn’t managed to reverse engineer even in a lesser version, as they had with other advanced that the Clans had made in their long self-imposed exile from the Inner Sphere. The ability to close breaches in their armour was a small advantage, but it was there and as with many things, if you piled enough advantages on each other than it could prove to be decisive.

“There’s a source on Jonah’s Reach, a moon in the outer system,” explained Catherine. “The Diamond Sharks found… would have found it. The Jade Falcons decided against trying to take it back after losing the Falcon Guards there a second time, so the Diamond Sharks took it as a base of operations in the Inner Sphere and they found the source there. Harjel’s very hard to come by, they control the only source in Clan space and when they found it in the Inner Sphere they secured it to maintain their monopoly.”

“I see…” Peter paused and ran one hand through his hair. “In that case, if news comes out about it then they’ll probably try to seize it for the same reason then. Although at least that sounds as if we don’t need to worry much about the Jade Falcons launching a new invasion. Raids though…” He shook his head. “Alright, I wish I’d known this sooner but it’s probably too sensitive to share via HPG. I don’t think we can afford to try to set up a factory to extract it though.”

Catherine nodded. “If we can get a detailed report of how it’s formed, which seems to be a natural process, then it’s possible there might be other worlds where it can be found. A single factory probably wouldn’t be enough to supply large scale manufacture anyway.”

“The Clans seem to manage.”

“The Clans are tiny.”

He shrugged. “Alright. Now, seriously, this Felix Industries you’ve sponsored to construct light tanks and missile carriers for us. How much of it do we actually own?”

“Uh, almost all?” she told him sheepishly. “Partnerships were slowing things down so much…”

“There’s a time to do things right, Cat. No wonder you’re pouring money into it. Bringing in partners wouldn’t just bring in more money, it would also bring in more expertise. And I bet you’re basically running them from here?”

She nodded again, penitently.

Peter sighed. “Please don’t make Victor’s mistake. Or for that matter, the even more common mistake of thinking you can or should be doing everything yourself. Bring in experts, give them high level direction and provide oversight. Anything else means you’ll make mistakes both because none of us can know everything, and even if you did, none of us have the time to do everything.”

“I promise,” Catherine assured him.

“Have your staff look at setting aside time so you can recruit a leadership team,” he ordered. “And assign someone to do the looking around for partnerships. GM and Johnston Industries are likely candidates - they know that Felix has contracts with the AFFC now, so they look more viable - and they’ll want to keep an eye on a potential competitor so they’ll likely buy in, which will pay back some of what you’re investing. I know you’re not spending more than we have available, but the margin is still narrower than I like. What exactly do you have lined up for them?”

“We have a light missile carrier vehicle based on the SLDF’s old Vali artillery vehicle, that’s in production, and a variant with the artillery capacity is being worked on.”

“Arrow IV missiles?” Peter enquired. Those had been the SLDF’s preferred artillery system.

“That and a variant with a Thumper light field gun. I think militias will prefer those.”

“It can’t hurt, particularly if there’s a lot of chassis commonality.”

“Besides that,” his sister ticked projects off on her fingers. “Vedette and Myrmidons on license from NETC. That’s the main moneymaker, so far. We’re looking another mid-weight tank to carry a gauss rifle - something between the Vedette and the Capellan’s Po in design. Towards the former in weight, it’ll probably need to be a fuel cell engine.”

“Don’t those have shorter ranges? And it’s going to mean another fuel type…”

“We can just add larger fuel tanks. And as long as they’re paired with something that has a fusion engine and access to water - like a Myrmidon or almost any BattleMech…”

“Not really suited to worlds with strategically relevant deserts either,” Peter noted. “But larger fuel tanks help… I suppose exploring the option as a fuel type can’t hurt, but don’t count on a contract from the AFFC unless those issues are considered.”

She smiled with warm reassurance. “I won’t. Uh… yes, there’s another heavier project like that with a pair of Gauss Rifles, it’s supposed to be a cheaper compliment to the Alacorns. A license for the Brutus -”

“Good choice,” he agreed. Kressly Warworks was the only source for that heavy tank currently, so regaining access when Epsilon Eridani was retaken had been a boost to the AFFC tank corps. But another source - or two - would be a great step forwards.

“Thank you. And the last project is trying to recreate the Vector helicopter based on data from the memory core on New Dallas.”

“The one that you ran off alone to find?”

She nodded.

“Remind me about the Vector.”

“Uh, SLDF main helicopter. It was built by General Motors… twenty-two tons, fusion engine. Came in four variants: an infantry transport, a gunship, a scout and an electronic warfare platform.”

Peter rubbed his jaw. “That does sound useful, but it also sounds like licensing hell. I’d suggest selling that project to GM. You can tell them that I’ve authorised a limited production run and see if Cal-Boeing would be interested in a partnership. They have more current experience of building helicopters than GM do, and it’d let us keep an eye on the project.”

“You just pulled that together like that.” Catherine looked bemused, but also impressed. “Let me write this down.” She pulled a pen out of one pocket of her jacket and a notepad from another.

I suppose, Peter thought, that I don’t need to tell her that my staff briefed me on this earlier so I’d be ready for this meeting. I did tell her that no one could do everything, and if she finds out that I’ve been essentially having her spied on and that this was a test, she might not react well.

Thinking back, he wasn’t sure if Kathrina had played this sort of game on him when he was fresh out of the academy. One part lesson, one part manipulation. But he had to know if Catherine was still up to handling the responsibilities of serving as his regent.

“I’d like to suggest someone to head up your team for Felix,” he mused out loud, ‘spontaneously’ for all his sister would know. “Harrison Bradford… used to command the Third Royal Guards until that debacle on Northwind. He’s a relative of the Duke of Coventry so he has a background in the military industry and his career’s dead-ended since then.”

“Was he named for the current Duke’s father?”

“Yes, he somewhat redeemed himself as a junior officer on Coventry during the Civil War. I can’t really justify giving him another major command, but we’re not exactly overburdened with competent staff officers. See what you make of him.”

Catherine nodded in acceptance. “But if he doesn’t fit, I’ll assign him somewhere else.”

“That’s understood. Felix Industries is your project,” Peter agreed magnanimously. “Just keep me more in the loop going forwards.”

Chapter 24
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
18 September 3065

Alys stared at the latest report from her sources. How had this not come up before? No, scratch that. The Word of Blake had probably been keeping it quiet, But it wasn’t good news.

She grabbed her comm and called a number she’d been using almost daily. “Isis,” she greeted her cousin abruptly. “We need to talk, can you meet me in the war room?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Cutting the call, Alys checked her appearance in the mirror before leaving the small office that made up part of her suite and heading for the stairs. She was wearing the Krusher’s uniform, something that made her stand out amongst the civilians and the FWLM officers present.

The ‘war room’ was simply the same repurposed dining room that had been used to brief in their first military allies. Adjacent rooms had been converted for an expanding staff but it was plain that the demands of running what was essentially a small interstellar state and army would quickly reach the point of overflowing Isis’ mansion.

It was only a few moments before Isis joined her, wearing a military-style jumpsuit.

“I didn’t take you away from another crisis?”

“No, just target practise.”

Alys wondered if Isis imagined that the targets she was shooting at were Corinne or Kirc. Or perhaps her so-called father. “I’m sorry to cut into that.” She meant that sincerely. Isis didn’t have the military education or experience of most of those they were working with. Bridging the gap with time spent at the firing range wasn’t as frivolous as it might seem. “However, I just got news that we might need to consider.”

“Do tell.” Isis took a seat at the table.

“My source is at Gibson, but he has another source of his own that told me the rest.”

“Gibson?” Her cousin arched an eyebrow. Gibson was the centre of a small province near the Principality of Regulus. Historically it had been heavily influenced by Kirc Cameron-Jones, but it had become the centre of the Word of Blake presence in the Free Worlds League, moving it into the Captain-General’s party, and it remained a major strategic location even though the Blakists now controlled Terra and had centred their leadership on the homeworld.

“Yes.” Alys highlighted the world on the map and then did so again on Terra. “It turns out that the warships that hadn’t declared themselves yet have been converging on both these worlds.”

“Not an attack?” Isis exclaimed.

A direct attack by the FWL Navy on the Gibson might provoke an interdiction that would cripple what was left of the League’s political infrastructure. Depending on how it was targeted, it could decide the outcome of the Civil War overnight. But an attack on Terra would be even worse, because that would signal the war spilling outside of their borders. It was entirely possible that Christian Mansdottir would have little choice but to commit the SLDF as peacekeepers, something that could leave League worlds occupied by foreign troops.

“Not quite that bad. They’ve been turning themselves in for internment, claiming that the Blakists represent a neutral power.”

“...what?” Isis’ face reflected Alys’ own confusion.

“I know!” she exclaimed. “But that’s what I’m hearing. Both the carrier groups - well, except the Gawain.”

Isis nodded. FWLS Gawain was supposed to be escorting the carrier FWLS Corinth but it had inexplicably been missing when the carrier and its other escort had been last sighted.

“Both the carriers, five different corvettes… Even the Xanthos has reportedly reached Terra and surrendered itself rather than be deployed against the crew’s countrymen.” Alys slumped into a chair facing Isis. “This makes no sense!”

The cousins looked at each other and then Isis frowned. “I think we can safely assume that more than a dozen warships wouldn’t all spontaneously decide to do this. We’re looking at the crews having been subverted by the Word of Blake.”

“Key members, at least.”

“Right. But in that case wouldn’t it make sense for them to be sent to support Corinne? We’ve been assuming that she was their new ally and that the Blakists were backing her. Taking them out of play doesn’t help that.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” grumbled Alys. “Are we wrong about Corinne?”

The younger woman’s eyes narrowed. “Not entirely - someone launched a coup in her name, so she must have been at least tacitly complicit.”

“Maybe after the fact.”

Isis tilted her hand back and forth. “Conceivable, but she’s been too active for her to be a figurehead. Even if someone had hostages, she’s doing too much.”

Alys didn’t want to think about the possibility that Corinne’s daughter Giselle could be a hostage to keep the new Captain-General under the thumb of the Blakists. Or perhaps someone else… “But in that case, why not drop the hammer. That’s enough warships to cripple Cameron-Jones outright and blaze a trail light years wide towards Oriente. If she broke Regulus, she’d have momentum on her side.”

“Then there’s something we’re…” Isis paused in thought. “What if we’re over-simplifying?”

“I.. don’t follow.”

“Organisations aren’t monolithic,” her cousin reminded her. “And there are factions within the Word of Blake. My… my actual father is a prominent Toyamaist, or so I’m told. It’s likely that he and Uncle Paul are both behind Corinne to some extent. But there could be other factions that want to support Thomas, or even simply want to pull out of the Free Worlds League and focus on Terra.”

“Then… are the ships being interned to keep them from being used against…” Alys looked for the right words. “Against fellow Blakists?”

“That would make more sense, wouldn’t it?”

“It makes a frightening amount of sense,” she admitted. “But in that case there could be two separate but parallel wars being fought here: the one we’re all looking at, and then another one behind the scenes of the Word of Blake. What can we do?”

“Directly, I don’t think we can do much,” Isis decided after a moment. “On the face of it, the ships being sequestered backs the position we’ve been taking: keeping as much of our military power out of the civil war as possible. In theory, once there’s an uncontested Captain-General the warships would be returned and we’d have the core of a navy again, even if everything else was destroyed.”

“And if it’s a less temporary measure. As temporary as a,” Alys stopped and snorted. “As temporary as a ComStar rate hike?”

“Then the Blakists may have more than doubled their fleet.” Isis pushed herself to her feet. “Which should worry some people I can think of. So we may have some leverage there. If nothing else, it may persuade the Sirians that they can’t keep stonewalling us. They’re very near Terra and I think they hoped that some of the ships would be siding with them. Now that’s off the table and they’re a potential stick for the Blakists to use in order to influence neighbouring worlds.”

“And the Sirians are closer to Terra than the rest of the League.”

“Exactly.”

The two women studied the map again. The four worlds of the Sirian Concordat formed a small salient that separated the Lyran side of the Federated Commonwealth from the remains of the Chaos March. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any aggressive action yet but something told Alys that if there was, it would be right there. It was the ideal strategic target for Peter Steiner-Davion.

“Maybe -” she began, and then realised Isis had spoken at the same time. “Sorry, you first.”

“I was about to say that we should reach out again to the border provinces.” Isis manipulated the controls, lighting up not only the Sirians, but also the Border Protectorate and the scattered members of the Silver Hawks Coalition. “One of the Protectorate’s regiments has been refusing orders to return home. I wonder if that might also be the influence of one of the Blakist factions.”

“It could be,” Alys admitted. “My own thought was that it might be time to appeal to the First Lord directly. If we request SLDF intervention ourselves it would be more under our control than if the request came from our neighbours.”

Isis Marik stared at the map and then nodded. “The two plans aren’t contradictory. We can do both. In fact, it would be better that we didn’t spring SLDF peacekeepers as a surprise to the provinces we’re trying to win over.”

“Good luck convincing the Silver Hawks of anything,” warned Alys. “They’re institutionally wary of any measure a Marik proposes - they were formed to help their members resist any pressure from Atreus, after all.”

“I do have an idea,” Isis told her with a smile and started to explain.

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