Part Six - Wotan
Well, a friend once told me:
Men, they would follow any man who would turn the wheels.
Now the wheels are spinning out of
Control; what would they do if we held them still?
If you destroy the working parts, what you'll get is a broken machine.
A beacon of light from a burning screen.
Light Up The Night - Protomen, Act II
Chapter 31
Dropship Howaitobesu, Laurent system
Clan Wolf Occupation Zone, Federated Commonwealth
7 January 3068“I almost thought that you weren’t going to make it,” Alys Rousset-Marik greeted Reinhardt Steiner, as the Twenty-Fifth Skye Rangers’ Brigadier entered the compartment.
The blond man shrugged. “I was beginning to worry about that myself.” His calm seemed forced.
Alys glanced at the head of the briefing room aboard the Genyosha flagship and saw that Tai-sa Laura Nelson didn’t appear to be about to start addressing them. The Genyosha officer remained in command of the SLDF task forces, as a compromise between the AFFC and Silver Hawks contingents. “What happened? Jumpship problems?”
“You could say that.” Reinhardt shook his head disgustedly. “There was a Free Skye cell waiting on the jumpship that was supposed to take us from Summer. It was one hell of a mess and then all the rest of the jumpships we were supposed to use had moved on. If the Archon-Prince hadn’t ordered no less than four commercial jumpships commandeered, I doubt we’d have reached Arcturus by now.”
“Free Skye…” Alys thought back to what little she knew of the dissident movement within the Federated Commonwealth’s most fractious province. “Why would they go after your jumpship?”
The commander of the Twenty-Fifth Skye Rangers sighed in frustration. “I can't tell you much at the moment - security around the ongoing investigation - but most of the pleb-types had been fed some nonsense about objecting to 'their' Rangers being sent to fight the Clans when we should be in Skye, protecting them from the evils of the Free Worlds League, the Draconis Combine and - worst of all - the Lyran government.”
The Free Worlds League, which was currently fighting a civil war. the Draconis Combine, which was happily watching Peter Steiner-Davion pour forces into the fighting against the Clans, rather than against them. And the Lyran government, which was the only protector Skye had had for over two centuries of the Succession Wars. Alys would love to say it made no sense to her, but it felt very much like home. “I see we have no monopoly on stupidity.”
“It’s a resource that seems to be infinitely replenishable,” Reinhardt answered cynically.
“What was that old saying? Only two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity… and I’m not sure about the universe.”
That finally got a smile from Reinhardt. “Nor am I, Colonel. Nor am I.”
Alys thought he might have said more but the lights dimmed, signalling Laura Nelson’s readiness to address them.
“Commanders,” the Genyosha officer greeted them. “I have, as the saying goes, good news and bad news. The good news: while Clan Wolf and Clan Jade Falcon are on the backfoot, we have not come all this way for nothing, the war goes on. The bad news: we will be spending more time crammed aboard our dropships.”
There were a couple of groans from junior officers who clearly hoped to remain anonymous.
Nelson smiled toothily. “Alas, we have been denied the honour of striking at Tamar, even though we are certainly close enough and I gather that the Archon-Prince grows concerned that our glorious Ghost Bear allies may reach the Wolf capital first. Generalfeldmarschall Victor Steiner-Davion himself has advised me that if the Bears seek to bid for the right to take the world, he would have to bid us away in order that it doesn’t look as if he’s bullying them.”
Alys frowned. Where were the Bears deploying? While they were also fighting under the banner of the Star League; so far as she was aware, they were barely coordinating with the Federated Commonwealth or their other allies.
As if reading her mind, Nelson brought a strategic display of the Wolf occupation zone. “The Hells Horses haven’t made any moves since they retreated from Twycross,” she began, indicating a sliver of worlds along the top of the map. “Whether that will continue, we don’t know. We do know that the Diamond Sharks have seized the jumpship yard at Star’s End - in fact they did so late last year, before the Wolf offensive broke - and they appear to be trying to finish off the pirate bands that have been using the asteroid belts in the system. As long as they hold to that, the Archon-Prince has indicated he’s willing to leave the system to them - it wasn’t under Federated Commonwealth control before the Clans invaded anyway.”
Alys looked at the map, which had historical borders marked, if only for reference. “That doesn’t seem to be restraining him when it comes to the old Free Rasalhague Republic’s borders,” she murmured to Reinhardt.
He glanced at her. “It’s a face-saving reason not to drag another Clan into the fighting.”
Nelson moved her indicator to a line of worlds bordering the Ghost Bear occupation zone - or rather, the Rasalhague Dominion. “While the Bears have taken Memmingen -” in striking range of Tamar “- Diosd and Ramsau -” widening their link to the pocket of the Free Rasalhague Republic that had been spared conquest in 3052 by ComStar’s victory on Tukkayid “- the bulk of their efforts have been nearer Rasalhague itself.”
Six worlds, all within two jumps of Rasalhague, had been highlighted with the Ghost Bears’ banner. Others, some still within a single jump, remained untouched, but the result was to move the border between the two clans twenty or thirty light years into the Wolf Occupation Zone along a broad front.
“Operation North Star, a deep strike by House Davion’s Ceti Hussars, has been successful beyond all expectations.” Nelson indicated a cluster of worlds on the other side of the Wolf occupation zone. “Nine worlds have been liberated but the Hussars are running short of supplies and have bypassed a number of important and presumably well protected worlds to achieve this. They’re also spread out holding and pacifying those worlds.”
“We’ll be accompanying a re-supply and reinforcement convoy to Feltre, the furthest point of their advance. From there, garrison units will disperse to free up the Ceti Hussars to assault the worlds they bypassed. Meanwhile, our regiments will move on to liberate worlds between the Ghost Bear advance and the worlds the Hussars have taken already. The hope is that the Ghost Bears will be less willing to contest a Star League Defense Force task force than they might be the AFFC.”
“Even if half our forces are from the AFFC?” asked Reinhardt.
The Second Genyosha’s commander shrugged. “It’s a theory. If they don’t back off, we’ll do this the old fashioned way.” She switched to another map, one that focused on just the corewards end of the occupation zone: the worlds along the edge of the Inner Sphere itself. “Our targets are these six worlds: Liezen, Bruben, Rodigo, St. John, Alleghe and The Edge. Intelligence suggests that the Wolf garrisons are unlikely to exceed a trinary of ‘Mechs with some degree of aerospace, but we can expect a large paramilitary force of infantry - most likely recruited from former FedCom worlds, in the same way that the Wolves stationed recruits from FRR worlds upon their FedCom conquests.”
Alys raised her hand for attention. “What are we authorised to offer them in terms of surrender?”
“If they lay down their arms,” Nelson told him, “You can offer them repatriation to their homeworld - assuming it’s under Star League control - or release into the custody of Khan Marcos Hall, for those who wish to remain part of Clan Wolf. Other than that, I gather that there are extensive detention camps being set up on worlds a very long way from the other Clans.”
She paused. “There is one specific request from the First Lord, which the Commanding General has approved. Because the Clan’s educate their children in communal creches, it’s possible we may come across groups of children without any family units. Most probably trueborn children undergoing selection and training for a future in the Wolves’ warrior caste. Extracting these sibkos has been given a high priority, to the point that if you find it necessary to withdraw from your target world, evacuating these captives is to be prioritised over anything save for your own personnel. I have a direct promise from Hohiro Kurita and Peter Steiner-Davion to indemnify us for any equipment lost as a result.”
“Interesting priority,” Alys muttered to Reinhardt. “Doesn’t Loki recruit extensively from orphans?”
The man gave her a sharp look.
“I’m just saying.”
“It might be some sort of deal with the Exiled Wolves,” he suggested. “Most of the children would be from their bloodlines.”
Nelson tapped the display screen with her pointer. “Your attention please?”
The two of them returned their attention to the front of the room, Alys feeling as if she was back in school.
“Each of you will be assigned a LIC team to identify any sibkos or similar strategic targets,” the DCMS officer told them. “Officially they are not there to spy on you, just to analyze data on the worlds you’re assigned to. You don’t have to accept any recommendations they make, but unfortunately you may have to explain why you decline any. I’ll back you as long as you’re not openly capricious.”
There were winces around the room, even from the AFFC officers present. No one liked having outsiders in nebulous authority over you - and spies were second only to politicians in the distaste felt for someone having a license to tell you how to do your job.
“We have six targets and only five commands,” Nelson continued. “So, the Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards will need to handle two worlds. I’ll leave it up to you if you wish to divide your command or handle them in succession, Hewitt.”
General Hewitt, who had been placed in command of the Twenty-Fourth following Sabine Steiner’s departure nodded, mind clearly already on the decision.
“Under the circumstances, I’m assigning you to handle Liezen and the Edge,” the Genyosha officer continued. “The furthest from the Ghost Bears, so having to spread your ‘Mechs thinner shouldn’t matter too much. But you know how plans go awry.”
There were some chuckles.
“Brigadier Steiner, I’m assigning your Rangers to take St John, while I’ll be on Rodigo - in a central location for ease of communication. This leaves the furthest forward systems to our new comrades from the Free Worlds League.” Tai-sa Nelson looked at Alys. “Colonel Marik, your Krusher brigade is assigned to liberate Alleghe, which leaves Bruben as your target, Colonel Reissing.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, Alys saw the commander of the Lucky Thirteenth nod in understanding. “If the Ghost Bears arrive first,” he asked, “Should we try to take the worlds away from them?”
“Personally, I’d go for it, but we’re not supposed to start a fight with the Bears. They’re technically part of the Star League now, after all. It’s different if they’re the ones that start anything.”
Alys sat back in her chair. “What about the sibkos? If the Bears are about to take one…” She frowned. “Could we offer a trial of possession for them? I know it’s kind of odd to be targeting children but at the same time, they’re a specific goal and the Clans get twitchy about their bloodlines. I heard something about some of their sibkos being purged of descendants of failed warriors…?”
Nelson paused and stared at her. Then she straightened her shoulders. “They’re not wrong. I remember from Wolcott - the Smoke Jaguars offered to execute the descendants of their defeated commander. Hohiro Kurita had to tell them he didn’t want that. Yes, I don’t know what the Bears will do to Wolf sibko. If you do encounter the Bears, try asking them at first - but if you need to fight to get the children out, then do it.”
*
Chapter 32
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
27 January 3068Peter Steiner-Davion watched from a window as the dropship carrying Yvonne and Tancred took off from the Triad’s private drop-port. “I feel rotten for sending them off so suddenly.”
“It’s not entirely your fault,” Caesar Steiner rumbled from the armchair he was sitting on, a plate of tart in front of him. “Someone has to keep the other half of the FedCom in line. Who else do you want to appoint? George Hasek? We’d be at war with the Capellans within a week.”
“Not something we want right now,” the Archon-Prince conceded.
“Maybe three or four years from now,” his cousin agreed. “Serve out your term as First Lord, then leave him in charge while you take a month’s vacation. When you’re back we can sort out the Liaos and put all the blame on Hasek.”
Peter looked at the older man, snorted and then went back to his desk. “Don’t tempt me. We’re still not sure he wasn’t involved in what happened to Catherine.”
There was an awkward silence between them at the name. Catherine had survived being captured and being tortured. But the fact that she’d fought back and, after a fashion, triumphed didn’t make the aftermath easier for her. Peter had been forced to recognise that she couldn’t be sent back to New Avalon as regent, for her own sake and that of those she’d be governing.
His sister rambled, more than she had since - since Addicks, he thought. Worse were fits of anger and tears that came easily to her eyes on unpredictable provocations. She had been broken once, clawed her way back and then, Peter thought, used. He had put pressure on her, the weight of duty they were born to… and for all that she’d borne up under burden, she had not healed as he had thought. She had not completely recovered from whatever ordeal had brought her back into his life, an enigma wrapped in mystery and a call to arms that he had jumped heedless at.
“Karla Holstein was right,” he murmured.
“Oh?”
“Yes. Catherine needs more help than I can give, and perhaps more than the therapists we’ve cleared previously. I need to be more honest about that.”
“You realise that if you bring in more people then the better the chances that she’ll be outed as… unwell.” The old man gazed at him without judgement as he delivered that warning. “An eccentric princess is one thing. Missing one finger doesn’t matter much.” Surgical reconstruction had saved all but one finger on Catherine’s right hand - she’d be missing the middle finger unless she elected to have a cybernetic replacement fitted. “But long term psychiatric care is still stigmatized. I’m not saying it’s fair, but realistically, it’s the sort of detail that muckrakers love to find.”
“I owe her better than to use her harder than I already have. And don’t tell me that I should give her the choice. She went from barely recognising a ‘Mech’s cockpit to piloting one competently in six bloody months. We both know what she’ll choose, given the chance. Someone has to keep her from self-destructing.”
Caesar gazed at him for a moment and then nodded sharply. “Just remember that you’re her brother, not her gaoler. It’s a fine line to walk.”
“And if you feel I’m off that line, will you tell me?”
The Generalfeldmarschall huffed and picked up his fork. “Ah, an excuse to keep raiding the palace kitchens here? My goal is accomplished, now to withdraw with the spoils of victory.” He broke off a section of tart and forked it into his mouth, then met Peter’s eyes with a paternal twinkle in his gaze.
How his cousin managed to still meet the physical requirements to keep serving was a mystery for the ages, Peter mused. Caesar drank like a fish, smoked like a chimney and ate so much that you’d think he’d be the size of a whale. And yet he managed to look no more than a little on the chubby side, despite a job that had him behind a desk more often than not.
“We were talking about the Ghost Bears,” the younger man said at last. “You said something about why we’ve not heard from them as much as we hoped.”
Caesar finished chewing on his current mouthful. “Ah. Yes,” he mumbled and then swallowed. “I still have friends in the SLDF, some at the Focht War College, which puts them near enough to the Kungsarme to have some back-channels. It seems that the Ghost Bears’ Clan Council have agreed to funnel their contact with the rest of the Star League through the Rikstag on Orestes. To act as a buffer, you understand.”
Peter nodded. “That makes sense.” The Rikstag was the legislature of what remained of the Free Rasalhague Republic. Exactly what their role would be within the Rasalhague Dominion was as yet undecided but it seemed very likely that they would replace the civilian councils of Clan Ghost Bear, since by votes and voices the Rasalhague natives still vastly outnumbered immigrants from the Clan homeworlds.
“The problem,” Caesar speared the last of the tart on his fork, “Is that the Rikstag is none too fond of you right now.”
“What have I ever done to them?” he protested.
“Feltre. Hyperion. Several other worlds.” Caesar put the morsel in his mouth and then stared at the empty plate in a betrayed fashion as he chewed.
Peter scowled. “It’s not as if they had a hope of ever taking them back. What should I do, let the Wolves regroup in safety there?”
His cousin swallowed. “That first part just makes it worse for the firebrands. And no, of course not. But when this shakes out, do you intend to give them all those worlds back? Meaning to the Ghost Bears, of course.”
“...maybe some of them,” he admitted. Tamar had been an important world for centuries and for decades it had been almost surrounded, first by Combine conquests and then by the Free Rasalhague Republic. The chance to have some breathing space around it now was irresistible. And of course, most of those worlds had been Lyran worlds once… until the Succession Wars had steadily pushed back that border.
“I was senior enough to hear something of it when Kelswa mucked up our one good chance at bringing them back,” Caesar told him. “The chance to remind them that before the Dragon added them to Rasalhague district, they’d been Lyrans. That for all Tyr stood against House Kurita, that the Princes of Rasalhague had ruled a vest pocket corner of the district. And of course, Selwin Kelswa wrecked everything.” He shook his head. “You’ll need to be cleverer than that. And that includes paying attention to what other people think about what you’re doing, however much sense it makes to you.”
“I suppose you have a point.” Peter rubbed at his jaw. “I promise not to mention their failure to protect them eighteen years ago, when I write a message to the Rikstag about coordination with the Ghost Bears. And at least then I’ll be sending my messages to the right world!”
“That may help,” began the rotund General of Armies.
He might have said more but there was a knock on the door. “Your highness, Count Allard is here to see you.” Last month, Quintus Allard the elder had formally resigned his title in favour of his grandson; apparently settling into happy retirement.
Peter glanced at Caesar, saw the older man looking at his empty plate and shook his head. “Please send him in.” He wasn’t ordering more food. He could hardly expect to make any impact on the man’s diet when parents, wife and children had all failed to, but there was no use enabling bad habits either.
Unfortunately, when Quintus Allard slipped in through the doors, he had papers in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. The one landed on Peter’s desk, the other in the gourmand’s greedy hands.
“I don’t get cake?” asked Peter plaintively.
“It’s your castle,” Caesar told him. “You can have as much cake as you ask for.”
“Good news,” Allard - that dastardly traitor - declared. “Kali Liao’s attempt on the life of Naomi Centrella has failed. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it failed miserably - it was close enough to be known and identified. But it failed nonetheless.”
“Wait, what?” The General of Armies looked up from his plate. “She did what?”
Allard raised an eyebrow - the one that Caesar couldn’t see but that Peter could.
The Archon-Prince gave him a tired look. “Kali Liao is not a great admirer of the Canopians. However useful they are as allies, Naomi Centrella’s position alongside the Chancellor seems to have rubbed at her nerves for a while. Assassination is a step up though.”
“It appears to have been a contingency laid quite some time ago. The agent involved attempted to deliver a chemical weapon to Lady Centrella’s apartments. Fortunately, one of her staff had a pet dog that sniffed out something wrong with it and alerted her security. Five more minutes and the Magestrix might have lacked an heir,” Allard added.
Peter could have lived with that. He’d never met Naomi Centrella, for she’d not yet attended a Whitting Conference, but she represented a fairly strong pro-Capellan sentiment within the Magistracy of Canopus. Her elder sister Danai had been more inclined towards military affairs and less enamoured with the alliance, but unfortunately she’d accompanied Victor to the Clan homeworlds and died bravely on the battlefield. Which daughter would have succeeded Emma Centrella had been an open question - the position was elective, but Danai’s death had made it a more or less closed book: the Magestrix’s only surviving daughter was almost certain to have a plurality of electors on her side. On the other hand, Naomi having a near brush with death was just about as good politically so her survival cost him little.
“I trust that her security is being improved,” he said, rather than expounding on that.
“Lady Centrella is making a sudden return to Canopus at her mother’s insistence,” Allard advised him with a degree of glee. “Officially so she can renew her contacts with the Magestrix’ court and advisors since she’s been away for a while. Unofficially…” He spread his hands. “We know enough to be sure that there is an unofficial agenda, but not exactly what it is. It’s unlikely to be fatal to the alliance but Sun-Tzu will need to work very hard to patch things up.”
“He’s unfortunately quite good at that,” Peter mused. “On the other hand, he’ll also have domestic concerns… Do we have any idea what triggered Kali giving the order?”
Quintus was quite smooth enough to pick up that Caesar Steiner was not currently to be brought into the loop on who exactly had originated the order to the agent in place - who was a perfectly genuine Kali-worshipping Thuggee. The agent just didn’t know that his chain of contacts back to Kali Liao’s home on Highspire had been compromised. “It’s not entirely clear but there were rumours that Lady Centrella might be close to the Chancellor personally rather than merely politically. Nothing I have seen suggests that there is an heir, but that would certainly be extremely damaging to Kali Liao’s prospects of ever sitting on the Celestial Throne.”
The fact that Catherine’s visions of the future included two or three such heirs was something that Peter had been worried about for a while. “I’m honestly not sure what would be more alarming: a Liao-Centrella on that throne or Sun-Tzu’s maniac of a sister.” Although at least the former was a long-term concern and not an immediate one.
“I’d lean towards Kali,” Caesar muttered. “Sun-Tzu getting her an insanity plea over those attacks might have been more damaging to the Star League than Kathrina’s indifference to the entire St Ives war.”
“Fortunately, that prospect is significantly diminished.” Quintus could in fact grin more broadly. “My delightful cousin has been removed from the Prefectorate. I don’t know yet how many favours Sun-Tzu had to call in with the House of Scions to get that done so quickly, but I’m willing to wager it’s cost him heavily. And that means she’s no longer eligible for the position of Chancellor without some kind of coup.”
Peter nodded. “That is good. Who does that leave if Sun-Tzu slips in the bath or something?”
Quintus arched an eyebrow and Peter shook his head slightly. That was not a hint. Assassinating a council lord would be a far more risky prospect than using a catspaw for an attack that didn’t even need to succeed in order to have the desired effect.
“My mother is technically eligible,” the young Count admitted, “But she’s politically impossible after her secession back in ‘twenty-nine. That leaves the Duke of Capella and the Shonso of Liao as the primary candidates.”
“Gregory Liao and… Herthong?”
“Hurtong Liao,” Quintus corrected with a pained expression. “He’s more or less in Sun-Tzu’s camp, since the Chancellor’s Xin Sheng policies more or less carried him to rule of a major world.” Shonso was more or less the Capellan title equivalent of a count, but the planet Liao held considerable political weight as the homeworld of the Liao dynasty and capital of the commonality carved out of the Chaos March.
“And Gregory?” asked Caesar.
“Old school politician. He has better connections in the Scions. It’d be an interesting conflict if it comes to that.”
Peter nodded. “I’d better refresh myself on their profiles at some point. Do we know what will happen with Kali besides losing her office?”
“Not yet sir, but there may be more news on the way. It’s…”
Quintus’ comm bleeped, cutting him off.
“That was fast,” the Archon-Prince noted.
The spymaster lifted the comm to his ear. “Allard speaking.”
There was a pause as whoever was on the other end reported. It must have been important, Peter thought. Normally using a comm within this office was something of a security hazard - only a handful of comm units anywhere had the codes to route something past his electronic security.
Quintus’ face didn’t pale dramatically but his expression was serious as he lowered the comm.
“Bad news?” asked Peter.
“It isn’t good.”
“Out with it then,” Caesar grunted, cutting another piece of cake for himself.
Quintus took a deep breath and faced the General of Armies. “Your grace, I regret to inform you that your mother passed away this morning.”
The out-of-place honorific had given the old soldier time to put his plate down. He hadn’t remembered to do the same with his fork and it bounced off the plate and onto the floor.
“The initial reports suggest natural causes,” Quintus continued gently.
Peter stepped forwards to rest a hand on his cousin’s shoulder in sympathy, as the man began to shake with grief.
*
Chapter 33
Sarghad, Trell I
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone, Federated Commonwealth
5 February 3068Sabine Steiner welcomed her officers to the briefing room in a subdued tone, something that their faces showed they had picked up on.
“Do we have new orders?” asked Juan Villanova-Petain. The armour officer looked as tired as Sabine felt - he’d been visiting the hospital, from what she remembered of his schedule.
His hover cavalry had turned the battle for Trellwan, racing through mountain caves too small for ‘Mechs and presumed too rough for combat vehicles, to cut the Jade Falcons off from their base and the cross routes that allowed them to shift a reserve of strength between the various mountain passes. They’d kept the Falcons penned up long enough for the Skye Rangers to punch through and win the trial of possession - but it had cost them equipment and lives. Neither could be replaced right now, and like any good officer Villanova-Petain felt the latter harder.
Louizio Martine-Holm shook her head. “I just hope we’re getting the regiments back that we left on Goat Path.”
“It’s on the cards, but not just yet,” Sabine told them. “Currently the shipping is prioritised to freeing up the units ear-marked for hitting Wotan and Tamar.”
“We’re not that far from Wotan,” the infantry officer pointed out. “Certainly nearer than the Eighth Deneb Light Cavalry were.” Sudeten was being stormed by Victor Steiner-Davion, which only left Wotan as the hub of what remained of the Jade Falcon occupation zone. They still held other worlds, beyond the Dark Nebula, but Wotan had been the lynchpin for their operations at the coreward end of their territory - it was their last reasonable base they could launch counter-attacks from. Without it, they’d need to build up facilities elsewhere - a problem for the next war, not this one. Assuming the Falcons even managed to hold onto those worlds.
“That would be why the Fourth Skye Rangers were tapped. And the Eighth Deneb Light Cavalry have the use of Word of Blake jumpships. Do you want to be nursemaiding Blakists?” asked Villanova-Petain.
Martine-Holm winced. “No thanks. I heard some nasty stories.”
“We’ve received an announcement from the Archon-Prince,” Sabine informed them, not wanting to get into gossip about their allies. “It came with specific instructions that all units are to show it to the troops within twelve hours of receipt, unless operational needs make doing so impossible. And planetary media are to run it within twenty-four hours, assuming we have access.”
“Which we do,” Villanova-Petain noted. The Jade Falcons had kept Trell I’s electronic media under their direct control and even expanded its scope in some ways. As little as Sabine liked to admit it, there were some ways that the Falcons had done better by these fringe worlds than the Federated Commonwealth had. Not many, but some.
“Which we do,” she agreed. “It may have particular significance for our Hussars, so I felt it best that you should watch it here and raise any concerns you had immediately.”
“Concerns?” asked Martine-Holm thoughtfully. “That sounds ominous.”
Sabine considered warning them and then decided against it. “See for yourselves,” she said instead and activated the projector.
The banner of the Federated Commonwealth appeared briefly and was then replaced by the image of the Archon-Prince. Unusually for an official statement, Peter Steiner-Davion did not speak from the throne. Instead he was standing on a balcony, backed by an evening view of a steep-sided valley, all snow and pines - some of the mountains of Bremen, Sabine thought although she couldn’t place which of the royal residences it might be. Resarius perhaps? She knew Peter liked the place but she’d not been there more than a couple of times.
The First Lord wasn’t wearing his usual dress uniform, just a heavy sweater and pants under a cloak that was probably necessary to keep him warm - balconies weren’t really recommended during a Tharkad winter. His face was serious, perhaps even grim. Sabine understood why and she was sure her officers would soon. “My name,” he declared - perhaps for the sake of the billions returned to Federated Commonwealth rule over the last year, “Is Peter Steiner-Davion. I am the Archon-Prince of the Federated Commonwealth and I am the First Lord of the Second Star League.”
“While I did not begin the current war with the Clans, I am responsible for prosecuting it. On my orders, hundreds of thousands of soldiers have gone into peril. It is to their enormous credit that the war is going so well. I realise that that must be little comfort to those who have lost family members, or who are seeing their sons and daughters, husbands and wives return home with serious wounds. All I can promise you is that the end result of this will be the chance of peace and security that the Federated Commonwealth has not had for almost twenty years.”
The Archon-Prince paused and shook his head. When he looked into the holo-camera again, his eyes betrayed anger. “It was my intention to return to the frontlines after the Star League Council’s meetings. While I have been strongly advised not to take to the field in the manner of my brother - or of our late uncle - I can at least take up a forward command post and free other officers to take the lead. Unfortunately, circumstances have conspired against me.”
“Well thank God for that.” Martine-Holm shook her head. “I’m sure he’s a fine mechwarrior, but if he dies then who takes over - his kooky older sister or the younger one that’s head over heels for Sandoval?”
Sabine paused the recording and glared at her infantry commander. “That is not funny, Louizio. Aside from them both being my cousins, this is not the time.”
The other woman looked at her and then nodded in apology. “I’ll be good,” she promised, shoulders straightening at the prospect of the implied bad news.
A touch of Sabine’s thumb on the controls resumed the replay: “I’m sure many of you have heard theories about my sister Catherine. That she is a clone, or that the woman who usurped my brother’s throne is the clone. That they are one and the same. That I murdered the usurper on New Avalon and that the search for her is a fraud. Some of those I can dismiss, other questions remain unanswered. This situation has now been complicated by a very narrow escape as she returned to New Avalon. Late last year, an attempt was made to replace Catherine with a doppelganger - a plan that would have doubtless led either to another secession or to the assassination of myself and Yvonne before the imposter could be discovered.”
Villanova-Petain began to pray under his breath. Or perhaps curse. It was hard to tell.
“Through courage and resourcefulness - including the supreme sacrifice from a very brave woman - the plan failed. Not, unfortunately, before my sister suffered... My sister suffered torture at the hands of her captors.”
There was an explosion of outrage from Sabine's staff. She paused the recording, waiting out the angry words - although they hardly had the time for Martine-Holm's red-faced fury to abate. It wasn't as if Sabine didn't understand the reaction.
Once she felt that the words could be heard, she let the message resume. “I cannot, in good conscience ask her to take up her previous responsibilities until she has recovered and so my sister Yvonne will be returning to New Avalon as regent while I must remain upon Tharkad.” Peter's words were clipped, a bubbling anger visible but contained by iron self-control.
“That, of course, is not the end of this matter. We have captives… and we have the body of the imposter. The captives point to Free Skye… something that may be considered plausible by some given the poor relations between my immediate family and our cousin Robert Kelswa. However, despite my deep disagreements with both the movement and my cousin, anyone can claim to be acting on another’s behalf, or be misled as to who is funding their activities. And the imposter’s body offers profound testimony as to another’s involvement.”
“It has been my unfortunate duty to order the arrest of my cousin, Marshal Richard Steiner. He will face questioning under the direction of the Senate, both on this matter and to explore the reasons that he and his mother elected to support the woman who once called herself Archon-Princess. We must establish if this imposter is that same usurper, for blood tests confirm her as Richard’s daughter - a daughter whose existence he hadn’t shared with the rest of House Steiner.”
Peter seemed to relax - slightly - now that he had got that off his chest. “I have no intention of attempting to turn the Federated Commonwealth into some sort of police state. There is no indication that this is anything more than a few power-hungry schemers seeking to promote themselves at everyone else’s expense. Were it not for the potential consequences, I would not feel it necessary to announce this to you. I assure you that all possible precautions are being taken to ensure that no scheme like this succeeds... and that those behind it face justice for their crimes. Thank you, and god bless you all.”
The image vanished.
“...that’s your uncle, isn’t it?” asked Martine-Holm quietly. “Richard Steiner, I mean.”
Sabine nodded quietly. “My mother’s youngest brother.”
“I mean… that doesn’t mean you’re involved. There are a lot of Steiners.”
“This message was the first I’d heard of it… but if I was involved, that’s what I’d say, isn’t it?” She shrugged, trying to pretend she was reconciled with the issue. “It’s possible I’ll be relieved to assist LIC with their investigation, in which case you’ll need to take over, Juan. Possibly without much notice.”
“This is going to hammer morale,” her second-in-commander muttered. “Goddamn idiots - what were they thinking?”
“Assuming that it was Kathrina - and if so, she’s dead and good riddance!” Sabine realised she had probably been to vehement there and reined herself in. “Assuming that it was her, probably some variant on ‘mine-mine-mine’. I didn’t really spend much time with her but when you look at what she did and not her charming personality, she was pretty much incapable of recognising when enough was enough.”
If this tanked her career, Sabine was probably going to call on her family connections and petition for the right to kill Richard personally. After his fairly disastrous tours of duty in Skye and Bolan she likely wouldn’t be the only one asking but it never hurt to try.
*
Chapter 34
FCS Ardan Sortek, Sudeten
Clan Jade Falcon Occupation Zone, Federated Commonwealth
11 February 3068The approach to Sudeten reminded Marshal Jon Davion of the final hours before landing on New Avalon with Peter Steiner-Davion, years ago. He hoped that that wasn’t an omen: while they’d won that battle, just getting to the surface had cost the life of his predecessor in command of the Davion Heavy Guards.
There was the same sense of being a helpless spectator though. At least the command deck of FCS Ardan Sortek was more spacious than that of the dropship John Gordon that he’d occupied then. The main tactical display projected the defenses around the Jade Falcon capital showed a considerable number of dropships forming up around the enemy warships. Most of them were armed transports pressed into service and likely emptied of their troops - the Jade Falcons simply didn’t have that many assault dropships.
At least this time the numbers favoured them, rather than the even numbers encountered at New Avalon. Jon picked out the Sortek’s icon, near the heart of the spearhead of warships that was intended to secure the orbitals. Their own transports were only visible on a wider strategic display - they wouldn’t arrive for twenty-four hours and if the battle turned against the Federated Commonwealth, they could cease deceleration and make for a jump-point with little chance that the Jade Falcons could manage an interception.
Beside the bulk of the Mjolnir-class battlecruiser that Jon rode on, he could see the icon of FCS Hanse Davion. The two ships anchored each other, like the two friends that they had been named for. Most importantly, the Avalon-class cruiser offered Jon’s superior much more protection than the dropship that Marshal Ann Adelmana had ridden over New Avalon.
Even on the strategic display, there was nothing to indicate the presence of the Davion Heavy Guards. Jon’s former command were light years away, still guarding Twycross. His reward for commanding the defense there had been a promotion, trading his command of the Regimental Combat Team for a place on Victor Steiner-Davion’s staff as the Generalfeldmarschall laid the groundwork for administering and protecting the liberated worlds. In theory, Jon was second-in-command of the AFFC contingent here but he’d barely had time to meet most of the commanders involved.
“There she is,” murmured one of those commanders. Amanda Steiner stabbed one finger towards the display, where an icon flickered as it updated with positive confirmation of the identity of an enemy warship.
“Who or what?” he asked curiously.
“Falcon’s Nest.” The captain of the Sortek folded her arms. “The only Jade Falcon warship to get away from Coventry.”
“A battleship?” Jon wasn’t entirely conversant with the nuances of the display yet, but he was sure that the suffix of BB after the name attached to the icon represented that term.
“Texas-class,” Amanda confirmed. “A tough ship, and one that we don’t want to get away. She’s got history back to the invasion.”
‘Get away’? Jon was glad that the naval officer was confident enough that she wasn’t worried about winning. “Can she escape?”
She gave him a look. “Only if we mess up. Han and Dan can generate more delta-v, but right now we’re tethered to our allies and some of them are real slugs.”
“Han and Dan?”
“Hanse Davion and Ardan Sortek.” The captain gave him a shrug. “We’ve been assigned together for more than a year and it’s a mouthful.”
Jon studied the display. There were a pair of Fox-class corvettes escorting the two FedCom capital ships, but the majority of the fleet came from their allies. A trio of Aegis-class cruisers from Clan Nova Cat formed a loose perimeter around them; while the point of the spearhead was the ComGuards flagship, Invisible Truth, backed up by three Lola-class destroyers.
In comparison, the Jade Falcons only had four warships available - less than he had seen estimated as still active. Besides the Falcon’s Nest, Jon saw two battlecruisers - a Cameron-class sister-ship to the Invisible Truth and a Black Lion - with a single Whirlwind-class destroyer as their escort. “They seem to have quite a heavy force.”
Amanda smiled. “Let me tell you a secret, Marshal. All these terms like battleship and battlecruiser are just jargon that we spacers use to confuse ground-pounders.”
“I knew it!” he joked.
“What matters are the size and speed of the shps,” she continued. “We’ve got five ships that can outmaneuver anything they have, if we use them intelligently. Beresick isn’t a fool - I expect he’ll cut loose mixed forces - our slower ships to pin theirs in place, while the rest of us outflank them. With numbers and tonnage on our side, that’s hard to beat.”
“Fire and maneuver.”
“Even in space, catching the enemy in a crossfire can be decisive.”
“Sir!” One of the naval crew turned from their console. “Orders from the flagship.”
Jon knew that that meant the Invisible Truth. Victor Steiner-Davion had assigned naval command to Precentor Beresick, as the most experienced naval commander. That probably wasn’t a crown that the ComGuards officer would retain long though. The Federated Commonwealth Navy had racked up quite a number of victories over the last eight months. Small battles, perhaps. But victories.
“I hear you,” Amanda told the crewman.
“Targeting priorities are assigned, captain. Indefatigable and Indomitable to focus on enemy dropships, Ardan Sortek and Hanse Davion to focus on Falcon’s Nest. We’re clear to break formation and engage by division.”
The captain seized a handset. “All hands, check your suits and brace for maneuvering.”
Jon looked at the controls built into the arm of the pressure suit he’d been helped into before leaving his quarters earlier. Naval practises had been reviewed after the Civil War and crew losses to depressurization had led to compact pressure suits being issued. They weren’t really suitable for a full extra-vehicular activity, but they’d hold atmosphere once the helmets were locked into place. Many of the crew were donning the helmets already, so only lowering their visors would be required.
Amanda Steiner let go of her handset and donned her own helmet, then helped Jon to do the same. “I know it’s a pain,” she admitted to him, “But it’s better than breathing hard vacuum.”
“No arguments,” he agreed. Another telltale on the forearm display went green, indicating the helmet was fully sealed. With that done, he tightened the straps holding him in place.
Satisfied, Amanda did the same and began giving orders, perhaps one in three of which made any sense to Jon. He felt it in the pit of his stomach when the massive Mjolnir-class battlecruiser stopped slowing down and began to turn, presenting a harder target for the Jade Falcons. Despite weighing one and a quarter megatons, the Ardan Sortek’s powerful engines and maneuvering thrusters gave it similar agility to a Leopard-class dropship of under two thousand tons.
The Ardan Sortek shook briefly. Smaller icons appeared around those of the warships and dropships. For a moment Jon thought it was missiles being launched but then he realised that it was both sides launching aerospace fighters - they’d kept all but a modest patrol of interceptors aboard to save fuel and pilot endurance for the real fight.
The dropships closed in around the warships to provide overlapping fire against inbound aerospace fighters. This close to a planet, hopefully no one would break out the nuclear warheads but no one wanted to find out the hard way that the other side was desperate enough to have done so.
The Falcon’s Nest was also turning, trying to keep its flank facing the two FCN capital ships without exposing a weak spot to the three destroyers closing in on the Black Lion-class battlecruiser or the similar formation of Nova Cat cruisers that was picking on the Jade Falcon’s Cameron-class. Precentor Beresick hadn’t chosen to directly compete with the Invisible Truth’s sister-ship and was instead focusing his flagship’s firepower against the one destroyer in the enemy force.
Jon watched the icons of Jade Falcon dropships flare and vanish under the guns of the two Fox-class corvettes. Friendly dropships were also being broken, but they were being hammered by the main batteries of the enemy warships, which meant that that firepower wasn’t being directed at their counterparts.
Then the battlecruiser shook again and this time he knew that it was missiles launching. Six from the Ardan Sortek and ten from the Hanse Davion, the holodisplay marking them as they plunged towards the battlecruiser. He knew, from the snatches of conversation around him, that other weapons were firing - up ‘above’ him in the nose of the ship, heavy particle cannon and gauss rifles were firing, but their shots weren’t as clearly visible.
Four missiles missed the Falcon’s Nest entirely, three others were picked off by Jade Falcon fighters. That still meant that nine struck home. They didn’t seem to have much immediate effect, but another sixteen were on the way.
The markers for missiles launched the other way showed that the battleship had shifted its firepower to them. It only fired six though and Jon watched as four went wild, then the other two detonated short of the Hanse Davion.
“Anti-missile systems,” Amanda Steiner noted. “I wish we had them, but the Lyran admiralty didn’t agree. The next Mjolnir will have them but the Yggdrasil and the Ardan Sortek will need to wait for their next major refit.”
“The Falcon’s accuracy doesn’t seem as good as I expected,” he said. Two-thirds of the FedCom missiles had been on target, but only a third of those fired at them.
She shook her head. “We’re harder targets from this angle.”
There was another jolt and it took Jon a moment to realise, as the ship’s status display lit up, that the Ardan Sortek had taken hits.
“Any moment now…” Amanda murmured, eyes anticipatory. Then she straightened sharply. “Bring us around forty-five degrees, fire as you bear!”
Jon’s stomach complained as the Ardan Sortek whirled upon its centre of gravity, and he could hear the heavy naval autocannon firing, even though they were hundreds of metres away.
The icon of the Falcon’s Nest lit up with amber and crimson lights. “Multiple hits on the prow!” someone called.
The Avalon was still hammering the larger vessel with missiles and it appeared to be practically on fire, so many damage codes appeared around it in the display. Jon called up an image of the ship on his own display, magnified massively since they were barely close enough for the battleship to be visible to the naked eye, and found that the reality was very similar - the blunt wedged bow of the Falcon’s Nest had been torn open by repeated impacts and fires were clearly raging inside, with one of the dorsal dropcollars streaming flames as the atmosphere within leaked explosively.
Then he saw the next salvo of missiles smash into the port flank of the Texas-class ship not far behind the nose. Something some structural fault must have been created or found, because entire slabs of armour blew away from the side of the battleship, leaving it looking like a partial cut-away, perhaps of ‘fatal failure of damage control’.
The heavy ship turned on its axis, perhaps trying to present the less damaged starboard side to its enemies, but the ship was bracketed now, and wherever it went, either the Hanse Davion or the Ardan Sortek could engage the damaged prow and flank.
“Should we offer them the chance to surrender?” Jon asked mildly. A captured battleship would probably be more valuable than close to two million tons of scrap.
Amanda Steiner gave him a tight look and then nodded reluctantly. “Comms, invite the enemy battleship to surrender - not hegira, just surrender. We’re not letting them leave but there’s no use risking them falling out of orbit. They might hit someone.”
