OBT Forum

September 9, 2768
Asta Defense Headquarters
North Continent, Asta
Terran Hegemony

“Well that was an interesting disaster,” Aaron DeChevilier said with a wry smile.  “What happened in the simulation, Admiral?”

Jean Kirkpatrick frowned.  “Actually, General, I think the simulation was realistic in showing what is going to happen when I take the Fleet against the Caspars.”

Stephen winced.  “Admiral, you lost nearly every ship in your entire command in that scenario!  Isn’t there another way to get past them?”

The Commanding Admiral of the Star League Defense Force Fleet shook her head sadly.  “We made the damn Caspers just too powerful and their predictive software means they will respond faster than any manned ship possibly can.  They can accelerate quicker and are more maneuverable than any other capital warship in our inventory, and while they might be only the size of a Lola III-class Fleet Destroyer, each carries as much firepower as a Cameron-class Battle Cruiser!  They have more armor than an Aegis-class Heavy Cruiser, as well.  The latest upgrade to the M-5 added a very sizable array of point-defense systems to the design as well, rendering our own missile salvoes less effective than they could be.  And don’t forget, gentlemen, that while we may have lost nearly fifteen hundred capital warships in that simulation—a full quarter of the Fleet—we still managed to destroy all but fourteen of the Caspers and the entire Rim Worlds battle fleet, not to mention over ninety-eight percent of the total number of M-11 Voidseekers in system!  And those numbers assume that somehow Amaris has managed to double to concentrate every last one of his remaining WarShips in the Terran Solar System, which added nearly two hundred manned ships to the Op Force.”

Kerensky nodded slowly.  “I concur with the Admiral.  First Lord, the threat posed by the Caspar’s operating on their core programming cannot be over emphasized.  Would we have proceeded with my original plan, it is very likely that after liberating Terra we would have barely a thousand operational WarShips left in the Fleet.  Each M-5 operating in the Terran system has a far more effective command and control AI than other M-5’s guarding the remaining systems—and Terra has far more of them than any other individual system.”

The First Lord was still white with shock at the sheer numbers of dead that the simulation had produced—almost a million officers and men of the Defense Force.  “But the nuclear warheads John and Minoru and Philip are making available . . .”

“Were instrumental in crippling the manned Rim Worlds ships before they could intervene, my Lord,” General Kerensky interrupted.  “The M-5 Caspar Drones, on the other hand, simply have too much point-defense to count on any single salvo overwhelming them.  It will take multiple salvoes of nuclear torpedoes, from several ships at once, to ensure that at least one detonates in range to cripple the drone.  Admiral Kirkpatrick’s initial success with precisely those tactics against the Rim Worlds contingent and the first wave of drones caused the simulation to conclude that the M-5s would change their own tactics and single out our vessels with the heaviest concentration of missile launchers for immediate destruction.  And the ramming attacks were not unforeseen; each drone sees itself as an expendable unit in the course of its programmed task, defending the system from invasion.”

“Unfortunately,” Admiral Kirkpatrick continued in a sad voice, “our ships that mount sufficient heavy missile launchers to consistently break through an M-5s point-defenses are all frigates and cruisers, and only the new Luxor-class Cruisers have the secondary armament and armor protection to sustain the attention of the drones—and even those powerful ships die within minutes when several Caspars concentrate on them.”

“One of my officers did suggest converting all of our surviving Texas-class battleships to missile vessels mounting an additional sixty-four Maelstrom AR-10 launchers, thirty-two per broadside.  That refit would require at least eighteen months of yard-time—probably longer—to successfully complete.  With forty-nine of these Texas-Ms, I could probably break even the M-5s with far fewer casualties, but we simply don’t have time for the conversion.”

The Admiral looked down at the floor for a moment, but then she raised her head, knowing it was her officers and men that would pay the butcher’s bill.  “First Lord, if you order it, we can increase the ships available to my command—but I beg you to remember that you will still have the planetary SDS grid to deal with.  Each of those installations is far more lethal than a mere Caspar.  You will need every ship that you have left to get through the ground base defenses and silence those batteries before the troops go in.”

Only stark silence met the Admiral’s statement, and then the First Lord nodded in agreement.  Lord Kerensky let out a breath that he had not remembered holding in, and also signified his approval.

“And if that is now settled,” continued the commander of the Star League Defense Forces, “next we have the problems that General Montoya continues to report from our Davion contingent.”

John Davion winced.  “They are getting better, General DeChevilier.”

“Yes, and General Montoya makes the point that they are improving and their morale is high.  But they are still woefully under our minimum standards for landing in the assault phase.”

“I know.  I wish it were not so, but having to purge the officers from my ranks who simply would not adapt put a tremendous hole in our supply of competent higher-level commanders.  For the moment, we have abandoned the traditional three-regiment brigade structure and instead are teaming up one regiment of ‘Mechs with two regiments of armor and one of mechanized infantry, plus a battalion of artillery.  They aren’t as powerful in the offense as one of your SLDF Brigades that have three full regiments of ‘Mechs, but a majority of my surviving higher-ranking officers are from the infantry, armor, and artillery branches.  Still, we feel that these Regimental Combat Teams will prove handy on the defensive against Amaris counterattacks, and once we work out the kinks, should make a formidable offensive force as well.”

Aaron snorted.  “That is the problem, First Prince Davion—we have less than six weeks to work out those kinks!”

“Aaron, since the Davion contingent is already scheduled for Wave Three, I think we can overlook their problems with conducting assault landings, at least for now,” Stephen, cutting off John Davion before he could blurt out something truly disastrous.

Aaron looked sheepish for a moment, and then nodded.  “I meant no disrespect towards your contribution, Lord John.”

“None taken,” the First Prince replied through a clenched jaw.

“And certainly your forces are not the only ones who are not performing up to SLDF standard:  General Steiner, your command is tilted heavily towards the higher tonnages.  You don’t have nearly enough recon and scout capability for your units.”

“Ja, General.  But we will make do.”

“Nein, Margrave and General.  I am splitting up the Steiner forces in brigade levels attached to SLDF divisions, where they will serve as the mailed fist to stop Amaris counter-attacks.  Our forces will provide you with the scouting data, and your heavy brigades will then operate according to the direction of the SLDF divisional commanders.”

At this, Kerensky interjected again.  “A wise precaution, General Steiner, since your heavy forces will augment the attack without nearly as much risk to your House’s military as they would suffer from operating independently; and I do believe that your own personal division has proven itself sufficiently well-trained and equipped to continue to operate as a discrete unit.”

The cold-eyed blonde young woman glared at Aaron for several moments, and then she too nodded her assent.

Stephen chuckled to break the tension in the room.  “Aaron, is there any formation that you feel is up to your august standards?”

“I am still concerned that the Assault Corp doesn’t have enough heavy and assault units, but even I have to admit that their élan and tenacity make up for that.  And I suppose that your Royal Black Watch is exceeding most of my expectations, my Lord.”

Soft laughter rose from the conference table.  Stephen shook his head.  “Well, I am not planning on landing in the First Wave, so I don’t think we should include them, Aaron.  What about logistics?”

Aaron winced.  “Tight, my Lord.  We have adequate supplies and munitions for all of the units participating, but losing Luthien Armor Works—and the diversion of troops to the rescue and recovery efforts in the Combine, the Federated Suns, and the League—means our stockpile is less than what I would really like.  Still, we should have enough beans and bullets.”

Kerensky coughed.  “And by that, First Lord, the commanding General means that the logistics stockpile has a thirty-five percent reserve above our worst case expenditure rates for a campaign lasting a full year.”

“In that case, gentlemen, I think we can consider the plan locked and concentrate on fine-tuning the last of the training between now and embarkation.  Meeting is adjourned.”

Chapter Fifteen

September 11, 2768
Little Khacess Lake
North America, Terra
Empire of Amaris (Terran Hegemony)

“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Liz asked acidly as the small fishing boat pounded across the waves amid the drizzling rain.  Between that rain and the ice-cold spray, her clothes, Vince and Bernie’s clothes, and Zalman’s clothes alike were all soaked.

The old man leered at her with a grin.  “Probably to Hell, madame, but not today unless we get really unlucky.”  He pressed the throttles forward to the stops, and now the boat Liz winced as she felt the hull smash into each of the three-foot rollers.

She had left the rests of the Ghosts to make their way to a so far untouched cache on the northern slopes of Mt. Rainer two days ago, while she and her two watchful bodyguards had accompanied the Shadow here to the Little Khacess Lake.  The weather was promising to turn against them—again—but Zalman had insisted that they could make it to the hidden location where he could send the message from.  A location that he insisted was only accessible by boat.

“Cut the engines back!” she yelled over their roar and the wind.

But the maniac apparently didn’t hear her, he just adjusted the wheel slightly and nodded to himself—Liz could see him counting to himself, his lips barely moving.  And then he did cut the engines out completely, as he stood up from the wheel, grabbed the heavy anchor and threw it over the side.

She looked around as the small boat rocked.  The nearest shore was at least a mile away.

“Zalman, I am tired, I am wet, and I getting sick of these . . .” she began.

“Antonius, my dear.  Call me Antonius,” the old man interrupted as he began to strip off his clothes.

Bernie shook his head.  “What are you doing?”

“You don’t expect me to take a swim fully clothed, do you?”

“A swim?”

Zalman sighed.  “Yes.  We are directly over the facility that I told you about.  It is one hundred and twenty feet below the water.  So I am going to take a little swim.”

Vince’s eyes bulged out.  “You never said anything about us having to swim!”

“Didn’t I?  Oh, dear.  It must have slipped my mind.  Would you open that compartment and pass me the rebreather?”

“And how many rebreathers do you have, Antonius?” asked Liz through grated teeth.

“Just the two, my dear.  Your muscular companions will have to wait for us up here it appears.”

“We just sit here, doing nothing, while any Amaris patrol wonders why two grown men are out on the lake on a day like today?” blurted Bernie.

“Hardly.  I brought a pair of fishing rods as well.  You might try your hand at that while the lady and I are gone.”

He beamed a smile at the three of them as he dropped the last of his clothing, leaving only a pair of swim trunks on his body—trunks he had worn instead of underwear.

Liz sighed, and pulled at her jacket zipper.  “Let’s get this over with, then.”

*****************************************************

The water was icy cold, but Liz followed Zalman as he dove towards the bottom.  She had to swallow a couple of times to adjust the pressure on her ears, but she managed to keep pace with the old man fairly well before the two of them reached a rocky shelf that protruded up from the bottom of the lake.  Zalman swam around the promontory until he located a narrow crevice and then he pulled himself inside, Liz trailing behind.  The crevice turned into a cramped cavern that snaked around through several bends and final opened into large chamber—with a sealed blast door embedded in one of the rocky walls.

The agent pressed a complex combination into the keypad and the door slowly swung open; he gestured towards the opening and then he and Liz swam in.  Lights came on as they entered and then he pulled the door closed and pressed a green button in the wall.  The water began to drain from the airlock, and she spat the mouthpiece of rebreather out of her mouth.

“Welcome to Blackheart Central, my dear,” Zalman said as he opened the interior door.  Within the next compartment was a series of rooms branching off from a corridor, all made from the same military-grade construction materials that had been used for the Black Watch caches.

“You people hid it under a lake?” she asked.

“Tsk, tsk, my dear.  The Royal Black Watch was not alone in its paranoia.  My organization likes its privacy.  Let’s see, now . . .” he continued as he walked down the corridor, finally stopping at one of the unmarked doors.  “Here we are.  Penny?  Love?  Would you let me in?”

From one of the speakers, an alto voice emerged.  “Good to see you are still, Antonius.  I understand that Amaris is very upset you escaped ahead of your execution.  Who’s the bimbo?”

“PENNY!” the Blackheart boomed.  “Jealously does not flatter you, my dear—and green is such an unflattering color on you.  May I introduce Captain Elizabeth Hazen of the Royal Black Watch.  Captain Hazen, this is Penny.”

“Hmph,” the voice said.  “You know the rules—I can’t admit anyone not on the list, Antonius.”

Liz’s jaw had already dropped, but she shook her head.  “This place is manned?”

“Ah, not actually, my dear,” Zalman began, but then he was interrupted.

“This place is womaned, Captain Hazen.  I am Penny, designation PNY-374/d, the Artificial Intelligence assigned to the Star League Special Intelligence Services Command.”

Zalman smiled as Liz stood there looked stunned.  “And a wonderful AI you are indeed, Penny my love.  Would you believe that the Fleet didn’t feel she met their standards for integrating into the Casper program—something about anomalous personality traits—and decided to junk her?  SIS decided instead to use the system—which was already paid for—to coordinate our operations.  She is very good at her job.”

“Yes, I am.”

“So be a dear, Penny, and let us in.”

“Can’t, won’t, not on your life.”

Zalman sighed.  “Penny, are their any ranking Blackhearts on planet, other than myself?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“And is the Star League in a state of occupation by a hostile power?”

“Yes.  Amaris is a pig may he roast in Hell.”

“In that case, as the senior SIS operative on Terra, and titular head of the organization, I hereby instruct you to list Captain Elizabeth Hazen as authorized:  authentication code Zulu Zulu Delta Four Seven Nine Eight Three Alpha November Two Two Seven Bravo.”

“Authorization provisionally accepted.”

The door slid open, revealing a command center with spotless terminals and workstations lining the walls.

“Excellent, my love.  After you, Captain Hazen,” he said with a flourish.

*****************************************************

“Message has been formatted and is transmitting now,” Penny’s voice said over the intercom.  “I have encoded it as CRITIC PRIORITY, for the attention of the Commanding General alone.  I have also appended all pertinent data gathered from all other SIS eaves-dropping software regarding Rim Worlds troop dispositions, equipment, and status.  Stupid protocols prevented me from sending them without human authorization.”

Liz shook her head and swallowed.  “Thank you Penny.”

“My, my, my,” the AI answered.  “She is polite at least.  I must warn you, however, that Antonius will try to get into your pants . . . or he would if you were wearing any.”

“PENNY!”

“He is quite incorrigible, isn’t he,” Liz answered with a giggle.

“Yes he is.”

Oh very good. Sort of what I envisioned for the Terran Republic from Fanbook 2 - Project Phoenix.

Omega Castles are more intelligence facilities rather than dedicated military bases. They are the smallest Castles built by Terran military engineers and are typically the cheapest. Eventually these facilities will be built on every Terran world but current efforts are focusing on their construction along the Draconis Combine and Free Worlds League border areas. Intended to be the last Castle so to speak they engage in passive intelligence gathering using the advanced monitoring equipment when an enemy invades a Terran system. In the event that this world is conquered by the enemy these listening posts would continue to function tracking troop movements and resistance efforts for eventual liberation. Staffed by observers from Military Intelligence they are trained to not make contact at all with the outside world until a relief or liberation force broadcasts a specific request for information. Typically they are located in the most remote place in a system (i.e. underwater or on a desolate moon) with many different broadcast sites to throw off enemy detection.

Although Penny is a fantastic touch.  Very enjoyable!

September 11, 2768
Asta Defense Headquarters
North Continent, Asta
Terran Hegemony

Stephen walked in the conference room with a scowl on his face.  The call ‘requesting’ his presence at an emergency meeting had woken him at 3.14 in the morning, and it promised to make the day ahead a very long one.  But he bit back what he was about to say when he saw the somber looks on the faces of both Aleksandyr and Aaron.

“What has happened now?” he asked instead.

The Commanding General of the SLDF stood and nodded gravely in the First Lord’s direction.  “I also woke Lord Minoru and Prince Hiroyoshi, my Lord.  They entered the complex just after . . .,” he broke off as the two entered the room.  “And here they are.  Gentlemen,” he continued towards the Black Watch and Otomo guards.  “I must ask that all of you leave.”

Stephen and Minoru exchanged a glance, and they both subtly nodded.  “You heard the man—out.”

After the guards exited the room, Aaron sealed both the outer and inner doors, and then activated the ‘bug-stomper’, a device that rendered electronic listening systems useless.  Stephen felt his stomach sinking—this room was in the very heart of the command center, buried a kilometer below the surface, and shielded from transmissions to boot.  Whatever was coming couldn’t be good.

The three men took their seats and Aaron walked back over to his and sat down.

“First Lord, Coordinator, Hiroyoshi, gentlemen, we are screwed.”

Aleksandyr patted Aaron on the arm as the General pulled out one of his cigars and lit it.

“Two hours and forty-two minutes ago,” Aleksandyr began, “we received an HPG transmission from an emergency substation located on the southern polar continent of Terra.  It was encrypted with Special Intelligence Service codes, and Aaron called on me to assist him in decrypting them.  Somehow, the only Blackheart within sixty light-years of Asta has vanished; he hasn’t been seen in more than a week and other than him, I am the only man on planet with any experience at SIS encryption.”

Hiroyoshi nodded.  “He is pursuing an important assignment, Lord Kerensky.  One that I think has priority.”

“I do not doubt your sincerity on that, Prince Kurita.  But SIS encryptions are very tricky things.  Aaron needed my assistance to decode the message without causing it overwrite and erase itself.  I would still like Agent Hart to double check our efforts, because the message itself was devastating.  According to the SIS agent in place on Terra, Amaris has a nearly complete copy of Ragnarok, and he is moving to heavily reinforce our planned landing zones.”

Stephen started, and even Minoru looked stunned.  “How . . . what . . . oh my God.”

“Like I said,” Aaron chimed in as he released a puff of smoke, “we’re so screwed that I doubt a brothel would employ us.”

“I believe that none of us in this room are the source of the leak.  But gentlemen,” Aleksandyr continued in a wintery cold voice, “we have a problem.”

Stephen’s mind raced and finally he nodded.  “Ok, only the division commanders and above have been briefed so far.  That’s how many, Aleksandyr?”

“Too many.  Including the Fleet and our briefings for the Free Worlds, Lyran, Fed Suns, and Combine contingents, there are more than a thousand command and staff officers who have seen the plans.”

Minoru nodded and then he spoke up.  “You said a nearly complete copy, Lord Kerensky.  How complete was it?”

“It was specific down to the landing zones and the complete roster of the first two assault waves, our timetable, diversionary efforts, and plans to engage the Caspars.”

The samurai lord of the Draconis Combine nodded again slowly.  “Then we can rule out a divisional commander leaking the information—each has so far received only the information on his specific objective, nothing beyond a sketch of the overall operation.  Hai?”

Lord Kerensky leaned back in his chair and considered for a moment.  “True.  Only around a hundred or so individuals have access to all of the information in the transmission.”

“How did we miss that,” muttered Aaron.

Stephen gave a grim chuckle.  “I rather imagine both of you were mad enough that you ground ten years life off your molars.”

“And as much as my government may deny it, the Draconis Combine has had many high level traitors over the years.  And plotters.”

“So,” mused Stephen, “what do we do now?”

Aleksandyr shook his head sadly.  “There are only so many options, First Lord.  We could cancel Ragnarok and liberate the Hegemony worlds which are now only lightly defended—but many of them have Caspar defenses and SDS systems of their own, lighter perhaps, but just as deadly.  We would take casualties, and delay our return to Terra by at least a year.  We can continue forward with Ragnarok and accept that our own casualties will be much higher than anticipated.”

And then Stephen looked up.  “Or we adapt to what Amaris knows.  Aleksandyr, our initial landing plans are . . . Aaron can you pull up that holographic map for me?”

DeChevilier nodded as Stephen stood and began to pace.  As the map formed over the table, he lifted the pointer and highlight the primary landing zone.  “Ragnarok calls for our main landings to be here, two hundred kilometers south-west of Moscow on the Eurasian plains.  You selected the site because of the limited overlapping coverage of the SDS grid and because we both felt that Amaris would initially have his best troops defending North America.  I agreed, because we need a beachhead, and this was one of the better choices.”

“After defeating the Amaris forces in Europe and Asia, the SLDF would cross the Bering Sea, while a second landing operation occurs in central Mexico, catching the Rim Worlds troops between two Army Groups and then advancing on Unity City.”

He snapped the pointer closed.  “But now Amaris knows this is our plan.  And he is concentrating his troops there, yes?”

Aaron nodded.  “According to the transmission, he has in place or is moving nearly one hundred and twenty divisions to Eurasia to contest the landings, leaving him ninety-five for the rest of the planet—forty-four concentrated in Mexico.”

“He means to bleed us out in the Russian steppes and the central Asian plateau.  Gentlemen, we change the plan and make our landing here,” he finished as he stabbed the laser pointer at the south-eastern portion of North America.

Aleksandyr drew in a breath, but Stephen rushed ahead.  “This area is protected by four more SDS emplacements than Russia, Aleksandyr, but it will prevent the troops he has in Europe or Mexico from intervening.”

“At first, First Lord,” Aleksandyr responded from his wheelchair.  “Amaris will redeploy to meet this attack—at least with the divisions he has massed in the Mexican highlands.”

Stephen smiled.  “I took your advice, Aleksandyr and I read that book that you gave me.  And I think you are wrong.  Amaris will do exactly what Hitler did during D-Day.  He has our plans, he knows where we are going to attack.  And he will treat our landings in Georgia and Alabama provinces as a diversion to make him move.  He won’t believe it.  Not until we have enough troops on the ground to make him believe it.”

Aleksandyr shook his head.  “That, First Lord, is wishful thinking.  We cannot predict what he will or will not do; we must instead reappraise the situation and start our planning over.  Ragnarok cannot be risked on such a hasty assault.  Our troops have trained for months for their specific targets, there will be confusion and chaos on the ground if those targets are suddenly shifted without telling them.  And we can’t tell them without first discovering our mole.”

“Right.  And we aren’t going to tell them.  We are going to continue to train for the targets in Ragnarok and shift on the fly as we burn in-system.”

Aaron’s eyes boggled for a moment, and he actually dropped his cigar.  “You can’t be serious!”

“I am.”

Stephen sighed.  “Aleksandyr, Aaron; your SLDF, the officers that you picked and that you trained—they can do this.  We can do this.”

Minoru shook his head, “It is too bold, First Lord.  Too audacious, though I admire that audacity you have displayed.”

“Desperate affairs require desperate remedies, my brother.”

“Don’t start quoting Nelson, First Lord,” rumbled Aleksandyr as he gazed at the holographic map again.  The old man lean forward and placed one elbow on the table, and cupped his chin in his hand as he considered.  “No captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of the enemy,” he whispered.

“And no colonel in the SLDF can do very wrong by taking the fight into the teeth of Amaris,” he suddenly finished.  “All right, First Lord, gentlemen, let us do something which the universe may talk of hereafter.”

Minoru suddenly smiled.  “I was hoping you would say that, Lord Kerensky.”

“Aaron, we play this very close to the vest—you and I and Prince Hiroyoshi will have to handle the frag orders, the planning, the assignment of drop-zones.  We can afford no further leaks.  It was only by the grace of God that this warning got clear—we cannot count on another,” Aleksandyr finished resolutely.

“And in the meantime, gentlemen,” Stephen said in a voice colder than an Astan winter, “Lord Minoru and I have a traitor to find.”

Time to dull a knife and slowly cut through a traitors skin with the blade coated in salt and lemon juice  SEYLA

Poor poor Robert.

Chapter Sixteen

September 17, 2768
Chamber of the High Council of the Star League
North Continent, Asta
Terran Hegemony

“My fellow Lords, we are assembled today in session to conduct the business of the Star League,” Stephen began.  “This session of the High Council is now convened.  Guards of the Black Watch, seal the doors, and let pass no one, save only those whom the Council summons forth.”

Moving briskly, two of the guards sealed the doors to the Chamber.  And the First Lord pressed the key again, sounding the chimes once more.  “The session has begun.  Let no one disturb these proceedings.”

“Lord Avellar,” he continued.  “You requested this session.  The floor is yours.”

Allyce Avellar nodded and leaned forward.  “Lords of the Council, I have received a transmission from Stefan Amaris, which was then relayed to me here on Asta.  It is a most disturbing transmission, for it shows that he was not responsible for the atrocity conducted upon Oriente in the Free Worlds League.”

Philip Marik started, his head snapping fully towards the leader of the Outworlds Alliance.  “The pig lies, Lord Avellar.  His actions against the Houses of Kurita and Davion, not to mention against the Star League as a whole have revealed his true nature.”

“Is it possible, Lord Marik,” the young lady continued, “that he did not?  The proofs that he has presented in the transmission show clear evidence that the vessel which attacked Oriente was not a Rim Worlds ship, but rather a vessel dispatched by the First Lord to create an atrocity for which Amaris would later be blamed!  Lords Calderon, Centrella, and Steiner have confirmed that the Rim Fleet had no vessel matching the known specifications of the ship that used weapons of mass destruction against Oriente—but was in fact a common freighter used extensively by the SLDF as an auxiliary transport ship.  We cannot dismiss his claim out of hand simply because of his prior bad acts, my fellow Lords.”

“Prior bad acts!” yelled John Davion.  “He used nerve gas against New Avalon, New Syrtis, and Robinson!  He killed millions of my people, including my daughter and my brother.  He . . . he . . .” the First Prince of the Federated Suns shook his head.  “That man is capable of anything, Lord Avellar.”

“The Defense Force of the Star League would never obey such an order, Lord Avellar, even if it had been issued—which did not happen,” interjected Aleksandyr Kerensky.

Allyce frowned.  “And yet, your ships are even now loading nuclear munitions as you prepare to invade the Terran system.  And in the past, such terror tactics by the SLDF were condoned by the First Lord and this Council!  I do not need to remind you, Lord Kerensky, of the actions of the SLDF during the Reunification Wars.”

“This is pure supposition, and any information provided by Amaris must be viewed with caution,” said Robert Steiner.  “However, I too wonder at why Amaris would attack the Free Worlds League—which at the time was a neutral entity.  It makes little sense that he would seek to increase the number of foes which he has to fight; the only one who profits from such an attack is the First Lord.”

“Perhaps I can shed some light on that, Lord Steiner,” spoke Minoru Kurita.  “Last year, we discovered a Rim Worlds agent that had penetrated the highest levels of the DCMS on Luthien.  Rather than immediately arresting him, I directed that he be used to pass disinformation to Amaris.  As part of that disinformation campaign, the spy learned that the Captain General had decided to join into the effort to dislodge Amaris from the Terran Hegemony—and that the Free Worlds Fleet covering Oriente would be leaving that world unprotected for a short time in order to conduct training maneuvers with elements of the SLDF in preparation.”

Minoru shook his head sadly.  “I had hoped to provoke Amaris into committing a large portion of his remaining Fleet against Oriente—where the Free Worlds Fleet would respond to any such attack in short order.  I did not anticipate that Amaris would resort to such terror tactics as he employed against my realm, against the Federated Suns, and against the Free Worlds League.”

Philip Marik’s eyes boggled and the blood drained from his face.  “You engineered this?”

“I meant to provoke a confrontation between you and Amaris, Philip.  Such horrendous casualties on the planet itself were never my intention.  But be that as it may, Amaris had ample motive, based upon the information he had at the time, to launch this attack.”

For several moments, silence hung over the chamber.

“Lord Avellar, Lord Marik; I did not ever order any unit to attack Oriente.  I would not have issued such an order, even if I was losing this war,” Stephen said softly.  “I was unaware of the information that Lord Kurita leaked to Amaris, and if I had known ahead of time, I would have attempted to stop him.”

“Which is why you were never informed, First Lord,” answered Minoru.

Philip glared across the Chamber at Minoru, but then he slowly nodded.  His eyes, however, promised that the matter was not yet settled.  “I do not believe that the First Lord would have done this, and I agree with Lord Kerensky that the SLDF would have been extremely loath to conduct such an attack.”

“But, don’t you see,” protested Allyce.  “We have an opportunity here to settle matters without more killing.  He has started to reach out to us; we should take this window to begin a negotiated settlement before anyone else has to die!”

Nicoletta Calderon winced and then she patted the young woman’s hand softly.  “The only settlement upon which this Council could agree Allyce would be the unconditional surrender of Amaris—and he won’t agree to that.”

“We could set terms, promise him that he won’t be executed for his crimes!  I would offer to lead the diplomatic team in person, once we declare a cease-fire.”

“And leave him in possession of the Hegemony worlds during these negotiations?  Give him additional time to add to his defenses and truly turn our next campaign into a blood-bath?  No,” the First Lord said, and both John and Minoru nodded in full agreement.

“I too do not believe that any such discussions will provide any advantage for us—and they would allow Amaris to continue to build his defense,” Philip Marik answered.  “And he must pay for his crimes in blood—that is non-negotiable, Lord Avellar.”

Barbara Liao smiled then.  “And I do not think we even need to put it to a vote, for I as well agree with the First Lord and Lords Calderon, Davion, Kurita, Marik, and I believe Kerensky.”

“War is never the answer, my Lords!” the young lady wailed.  “Think of the young men and women you are sending to their deaths!  Think of their families!”

“Think of the countless dead whose spirits would never rest fully at peace unless this monster is at last brought to justice, Lord Avellar,” replied Stephen.  “I call the vote:  shall the High Council of the Star League offer terms of negotiation to Stefan Amaris or proceed forward with Operation Ragnarok?”

By a margin of nine-to-one, the Council agreed to end the ambitions of Amaris once and for all.


September 17, 2768
Branson House, Hawkins
North Continent, Asta
Terran Hegemony

“We should have confronted Robert with his crimes then and there,” Stephen snarled as he paced in his private office.

Minoru shook his head.  “We have no definitive proof, Stephen.  The Council will not remove one of its members based solely on the word of one of your operatives.  Of course, we don’t have to wait for the Council to act.”

Now Stephen stopped and stared at Minoru for several moments, before he too shook his head.  “No.  We will do this the right way.  I won’t have Robert Steiner assassinated.”

“Hai.  And in that case, First Lord, we must resign ourselves to have patience.  Robert is on the verge of breaking under the strain, if your man’s account was accurate—we have but to wait just a little longer and he may deliver himself into our hands.  I trust that your Colonel Moreau is keeping a watchful eye on General Steiner and her Black Watch lover?”

“Hai,” answered Stephen with a grin.  “I would wager almost anything that Absalom never thought he would be the target of a protective detail.”

“Nor did Hiroyoshi.  But my newest heir is adapting rather well to his change in station.”

“Indeed.  Will you stay for dinner?”

“Alas, but no, First Lord.  General Stirling and I have plans for an unscheduled training exercise for our Corps this evening.”

“Am I doing the right thing here, Minoru?” Stephen quietly asked as he stared out the window.  “We are risking everything on a single roll of the die?”

“I could respond with platitudes, such as nothing ventured, nothing gained.  But that does little to assuage your feelings.  And does not address the real question:  is this our best chance to catch Amaris completely off-guard?  Does that opportunity outweigh the risks?  I believe that the answer is yes, but then I have always been a gambler, Stephen.”

“Like you gambled with your Q-ship at Oriente?”

Minoru snorted.  “How long have you suspected?”

“For several months now, ever since you integrated those ‘armed freighters’ of yours into the Asta defenses.”

“And why haven’t you said anything?  To either me or Philip?”

Stephen sighed.  “Because it brought the Free Worlds League into the fight.  I don’t approve, and I would have tried to stop you had I known in advance.  That being said, we have a better chance of pulling this off with Philip Marik onboard.  And he won’t learn about it from me—I owe you that much and more besides.”

“And soon enough, it will no longer matter.  I will either die in the assault, or I will die by my own hand after Amaris has been brought to justice.  If Philip does discover the truth . . .”

“I will inform him that the order was yours and yours alone—and involved none within your government or family.”

The two men stood silent, gazing out of the window to the grounds beyond.  Outside, the first flakes of an early autumn snowfall began to drift down towards the manicured lawn.