OBT Forum

-3-
Black Watch Citadel, Mars
Blood Spirit Territory, Clan Domains
10 January 3055

Khan Karianna Schmitt sat patiently, waiting for the transmission to commence.  It had been recommended to her by ilChi Bri McFadden that this could be of interest.  In a moment the holoscreen flickered to life, displaying a pair of mismatched figures if ever there was a pair.  Khan Meagan Sukhanov was a tiny woman thanks to her aerospace phenotype, while her saKhan, Klaus Harper, was a massive elemental.  She looked childlike next to the man, but to underestimate her was a mistake.  She had ascended to leadership of the Snow Ravens after all.  Yet the Ravens had been kind to her Clan over the past half century, one of the few that had been.  Indeed, at Sukhanov’s urging, her Clan had assisted the Blood Spirits in their relocation from the Pentagon to Mars.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Khan Sukhanov,” Karianna began.

Meagan smiled her deceptively innocent smile.  “Yes, you know better than to expect me to call with chit chat, don’t you Karianna?  Let us get to the point then.  My Clan has recently begun surveying former Concordat worlds, judging whether they would be worth expanding to.  During the course of their investigations, a survey team came across something that may be of interest you.  Located in a deep valley on the world of Dicallus is a cache of mechs, equipment and personal effects that appears to have belonged to Royal Black Watch members who survived the Amaris Coup, yet did not join the Exodus.  Given your own illustrious ancestors origins, I thought you might want first crack at this find before I contact the Goliath Scorpions.”

Karianna winced at the contraction, but the value of the find quickly grabbed her interest.  But she knew her fellow Khan.  “What price do you seek for this prize?”

“Why nothing at all, Khan Schmitt.  I seek only to foster inter-Clan unity.  Such are the instructions of the ilKhan, quiaff?”

“I know you better than that,” Karianna scoffed.

Meagan’s smile dropped immediately.  “As you wish.  I desire to foster greater ties between our Clans, with the intention of showing the others that it can be done.  It will be a coup for the future, and one I can use for political gain.  You can as well.  At worst you gain relics from your past.  Do we have an agreement?”

Karianna was brought up short.  Bluntness was not something anyone ever expected from a Snow Raven.  Scheming perhaps, and certainly hours of talking where nothing was said, but not truth.  She was intrigued, despite her better judgement.  “I agree, but on one condition.  My troops will go to this world and retrieve the prize ourselves.”

“I find that perfectly acceptable.  Bargained well and done.”  With that, the Snow Raven transmission cut off.

Grand Council Chambers, Unity City
Terra, Clan Domains
12 January 3055

“Honoured members of the council, I must ask why the Ice Hellions have yet to be censured!  The Skye forces under Captain Nancy Kreig defeated the Ice Hellions in a Trial of Possession for Hesperus II nearly a week ago.  Yet the Hellions have yet to vacate the world.  Skye forces were turned away by Hellion warships!  Is this what Clan honour means?  Is this the justice we willingly joined the Star League for?  I tell you now that my nation will not take this lying down.  If the Hellions don’t vacate Hesperus immediately, we will have no choice but to declare war!”

His speech completed, Ryan Steiner returned to his seat.  There was much applause from the second tier, and even some from the first.  There was just as much grumbling though, mainly from Clans of Crusader temperament.

Stephen Tyler leapt to his feet.  “Fah, your forces ignored the rituals of combat, voiding the trial!  I will not take this treatment from anyone, let alone a spheroid!  Your presence here offends me, and you should be glad that my Clan does not destroy your paltry nation!”

“How dare you!” Steiner roared.

“Guards!” bellowed Ulric Kerensky.  “If these men do not silence themselves in one minute, you will remove them by force and throw them in a cell.”

Gradually the council chambers began to quiet down.  The men and women present still conversed in whispers and frantic typing, but the screaming fit appeared to be over for now.

Ryan Steiner visibly calmed himself.  “I move that the Ice Hellions be censured for their refusal to abide by the terms of the trial with Skye.”

The Grand Loremaster nodded graciously to the ilKhan.  “Trothkin, a motion has been forwarded to censure the Ice Hellions for their actions on Hesperus II.  Does any here wish to second it?”

“I second the motion,” this from the screen representing Khan Jocelyn Siddiq of the Burrock’s.  Unusual to say the least, as the Burrock’s rarely concerned themselves with affairs in the Inner Sphere.

IlKhan Ulric Kerensky stood and addressed the council.  “The motion passes.  Khan Stephen Tyler, as your surkai you are to leave Hesperus II at once.  Failure to do so will meet with the gravest of consequences.”

Khan Tyler stood up, the very image of offended dignity.  “So you will side with this spheroid over fellow clansmen?  Is this what the grand council has come to?  If that is so, I will have nothing more to do with it.  You have all lost sight of Kerensky’s vision.  The Ice Hellions withdraw from this body.  You may do what you wish, but we go our own way.”

Danielle Lienet, the Hellion saKhan, looked at Tyler in something approaching horror.  She was likely thinking exactly what was in the minds of virtually all present.  The last time this had happened, a Clan had been annihilated.  She reached out as Tyler began to leave, but missed his arm.  Lienet stood and glanced around the chamber with a sense of doom then chased after her Khan.

Once the Hellions were gone a deathly silence fell upon the chamber, a silence broken by Malavai Fletcher.  “I move that the Ice Hellions be annihilated for their disrespect to Clan ways and to this Council, and bid my own Hell’s Horses to destroy the weasels.”

“That is too harsh a punishment,” countered Khan Djerassi of the Goliath Scorpions.  "I move that the Ice Hellions be abjured for their continued disregard for Clan tradition."

“Seconded,” came the voice of saKhan Tabitha Paik of the Star Adders.

Ulric hung his head in dismay then took a deep breath.  “So be it.  The motion has passed and the Ice Hellion Clan faces abjuration.  You must all cast your votes; aye or nay."

The vote took nearly half an hour as the assembled Khans and rulers deliberated amongst themselves and then made their choice.  Eventually the tally was in.  Of a potential 38 votes, 28 were for the motion, 7 against and 3 abstained.

Ulric spoke again, sadness in his tone.  “The vote is complete, and the Ice Hellions are to be abjured.  Let them forever be barred from this council until we are all dust.”

“Seyla,” intoned the council.


-4-
Gravenhurst, Chirikof
Federated Suns
18 January 3055

Dr. Wesley M’Tumba wandered the floor of the gymnasium.  The local hospitals were overflowing with cases of the strange disease that was ravaging the planet.  Medical professionals were at a complete loss.  The disease had appeared out of nowhere and showed no signs of slowing down.  What was known was that the disease was fatal, contagious and had a lengthy incubation period.

The base commander at Fort Chirikof had ordered the entire planet quarantined, but M’Tumba and his fellow medical professionals doubted that would do any good at this point.  The long incubation period meant that hundreds of infected men and women had likely begun to spread the disease to the rest of the Federated Suns.  He and his compatriots, however, were determined to find a cure, no matter what it took.

He stopped by to see his favourite patient, a young boy by the name of Angus.  Though covered in the sores that marked the final stages of the disease, Angus had survived for well over a month.  With luck the child held the secret of a cure within his blood.

“And how’s my best patient today?  Holding up?”

The boy offered a wan smile.  “So far, Doctor Wes.  I miss my parents.”

“I know you do.  We’re doing everything we can to find them.  Until we do, you have to stay strong.  Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try.  I’m sleepy now.”

“You rest then.”  M’Tumba looked down on the groggy child and wondered what the universe was coming to when such innocence had to lay at deaths door.

New Lootera, Talcott
Smoke Jaguar Territory, Clan Domains
20 January 3055

Trent Howell surveyed the field of waiting DropShips and found it good.  The entirety of Alpha Galaxy, his own Shroud Keshik and the 22nd Freeborn Cluster were loaded up and preparing to launch for the waiting JumpShips above.  Two Keshiks and seven combat clusters.  Not nearly as large an invasion force as seen during the original invasion, but it should certainly be enough to take on one planet, even if it was the capitol of a successor state.  Trent was eagerly anticipating the glory he would reap once New Avalon was his and Hanse Davion’s corpse lay at his feet.  Then the Jaguar’s path would be his and his alone to forge.

Trent suspected that Khan Wirth was setting him up somehow, as the man was even more of a schemer than Leo Showers.  He also knew that his adherence to honour and the Jaguar’s path would see him through any trial.  He had surrounded himself with loyal officers, with the possible exception of Lincoln Osis, and knew that his elite force could handle whatever New Avalon’s defenders could throw at them.  If the worst occurred, then he had a WarShip to back him up.

With an effort Trent returned his thoughts to immediate matters, such as boarding his own DropShip, the Phantom Claw, and getting his invasion under way.  Soon, he would dock with the Sabre Cat and resume the invasion that had been so unjustly delayed.

Fox’s Den, Avalon City
New Avalon, Federated Suns
23 January 3055

Hanse Davion was worried.  Word was filtering through of renewed aggression along the Smoke Jaguar border, as well as what appeared to be sabre rattling from these Snow Ravens.  As if that weren’t enough, reports were coming in that the Chirikof fever was reaching outbreak proportion.  Hundreds of thousands were now reported sick on dozens of worlds, New Avalon amongst them.  The civilian sectors were being hit hard, but of more immediate concern was the status of the AFFS in the Crucis March.  Hundreds of soldiers had already fallen ill, and there was no antidote in sight.  It frustrated Hanse to no end.  His nation had survived the crucible of the Clan invasion, weakened but still free.  To be brought low by a disease of all things... well, it churned his stomach. 

Hanse turned around and looked at the other men and women present.  Morgan Hasek-Davion, who had survived the fall of New Syrtis, and served still as the Marshal of the Armies, despite injuries caused from neural feedback.  Justin Allard, spymaster extraordinaire, whose heart had been broken when Candace Liao, his wife, died on St. Ives when it was overrun by the Jade Falcons.  His daughter Katherine, whose focus on humanitarian endeavours had endeared her to the people of the Federated Suns.  He wished Melissa were here, but she had been one of the first on New Avalon to succumb to the fever.  She was presently quarantined at the NAIS.

“Alright gentlemen, I want your opinion of the Clan front.  What are the Jags up to?”

Morgan snorted.  “They’re bored.  These Clanners convince themselves they have such short lives that they need to stretch and kill every once in a while, especially the Jaguars.  They seem to be the most violent of all the Clans, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Possibly,” came Allard’s quiet voice.  “They’re certainly the ones who try to embrace their totem as much as possible, but this feels like more.  The new saKhan, this Trent Howell, seems more thoughtful than the average Jaguar.  I think we need to be wary.  The moves on the border could be something akin to our own manoeuvres during the Galahad operations.”

“You mean an elaborate game,” chimed in the heir-apparent.  “The only question is, will we buy it?”

Hanse looked lovingly over at his daughter.  Katherine had such a fine grasp of politics.  A spine of steel too, which she kept hidden from most, but not from her father.  One day she would make a fine ruler.  “Of course not.  Morgan, can we strip forces away from the Combine border to reinforce the Jaguar border?”

Morgan looked thoughtful, probably reviewing troop deployments in his head.  “A half dozen regiments.  Theodore is still honouring your agreement to demilitarize the border.”

That agreement had caused the Sandoval family to have numerous fits about the safety of the realm, but the fact remained that Hanse had to focus on the greater danger to his truncated realm.

“Good.  Justin, see what you can do about getting some more operatives into the occupation zone.  We can’t keep fighting blind like this.”

Allard looked pained.  “I’ll do my best highness, but given Clan society and their view of spies, we won’t get very much out of them.”

“Anything is better than nothing.  Information is ammunition, and right now I’m feeling the need for a reload.”

Orbital Approach
New Avalon, Federated Suns
12 February 3055

Davion aerospace fighters were launching suicidal attacks on the inbound Clan DropShips.  They knew what was at stake, the very future of their realm.  The Clan taskforce had arrived eight days ago and overwhelmed the tiny garrison at the recharge station.  The DropShips then began a standard burn to the planet.  During the journey, no ships had been detected departing or arriving in the system.  It was unusual to say the least.

Trent’s batchall had been answered by Hanse Davion himself.  When Trent had spoken to him, the leader of the Federated Suns had not looked well, pale and with bags under his eyes, but Trent chalked that up to age.  The First Prince had bid everything he had, and Trent had honoured him by doing the same.  His entire force was set to land on the continent of Albion and face the defenders in a massive free for all.  If the so-called Fox honoured his pledge.

Dozens of Davion DropShips and hundreds of fighters materialized to challenge the Smoke Jaguar landing.  Again the defenders became suicidal.  Trent watched his display as wave after wave of Davion vessels literally smashed into his own troop carriers.  It was in this manner that all but a trinary of the 5th Regulars was lost before the ground battle had even commenced.  A less than auspicious beginning in Trent’s opinion.

Trent’s command ship passed near to Avalon City, close enough that he could make out Mount Davion in the distance.  How appropriate, he thought, that we invade an enemy so similar to us.  Once conquered, Mount Davion would be made over in the image of Mount Szabo on Huntress.  The giant engraved image of a leaping Jaguar would dominate the world for centuries to come.  Already plumes of smoke could be seen coming from the city.  This struck the saKhan as odd because the attack had not yet begun.  “Tau and Epsilon flights,” he spoke into his microphone, “detour and investigate the city proper.  Report anything unusual to me at once.”

“Aye my Khan,” came the tinny response.

Long moments passed before the pilots reported in. “My Khan, there appears to be numerous pyres lit throughout the city.  I cannot tell what is being burned, only that that the piles are large.  The city’s defences seem minimal, with many ‘Mechs apparently abandoned.  I do not understand.  Recommend elementals be dispatched to investigate further.”

“Excellent work Tau flight.  Return to CAP duty.”  Trent toggled his comm gear again.  “Star Colonel Harrian, detach your infantry and send them to scout the city.”

“Your will my Khan.”

Harrian commanded the 22nd Freeborn Cluster, an experimental unit put together by Trent.  The unit fielded few elementals, having mainly standard infantry, but they would be ideal for the job ahead.

“SaKhan Howell,” came Harrian’s shaky voice.  “The piles are bodies, bodies being burned.  It’d seem there’s some kind of plague tearing through the city.”

Trent immediately slapped his comm gear again.  “All forces this is saKhan Howell.  Do not disembark from your DropShips.  If you have already done so, do not exit your ‘Mechs.  Possible contagion.”  He switched channels to the orbiting warship.  “Star Commodore Sophie, please send a detachment of scientists to the surface.”

Trent gazed at the instrument panel of his Timber Wolf.  He had been robbed of the glory of conquest.  Instead it seemed that a sickness had beaten New Avalon before he had.

-7-
Brunswick Continent
New Avalon, Federated Suns
3 March 3055

The forest was thick with trees and secondary growth, fouling the sensors of Harrian’s forces.  The freeborn Star Colonel spread his forces out, making them harder targets to hit.  He knew that the Davion Heavy Guards were based around here somewhere, but they knew the terrain so well that they could blend in and strike at will.  Many of the True’s were calling them rodents and animals, but Harrian couldn’t help but admire them.  He was even making sure that his troops were learning the tactics being used against them.  As an irregular unit, the twenty-second would benefit immensely.

“Contact!” came the exclamation from the ever excitable Kristophe.

Harrian quickly glanced at his HUD to determine Kristophe’s location.  He was several hundred metres west.  Harrian throttled up his Highlander IIC and began knocking trees out of his way.  Kristophe was piloting an Icestorm and was unlikely to stand up to the kind of punishment.  “Command star, converge on Kristophe’s location.  Move it people!”

The five mechs of the command star emerged into a small clearing as one, just in time to witness a gauss slug from a Victor core into the already damaged frame of the Icestorm.  Harrian and his companions lit up the Victor, which held up to the combined fire for a brief moment before erupting into a flaming pillar of debris.  “Kristophe, you alive in there?”

“Yeah, I think so Colonel.  My mech’s toast though.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Stay here and wait for recovery.  Everyone else, move forward and by the Great Father watch for ambushes!”

The twenty-second began to move forward again.  It was difficult to harass the superior numbers of the Davion troops, but the slightly more advanced gear helped balance the equation somewhat.  Of course, the Davion tactics unbalanced that equation again.  But he believed the tenacity of the Jaguar would win out in the end.

An adhoc binary centred on him and led the charge against a strong Davion presence.  The first mechs spotted were a pair of Caesar’s, a Jagermech and a captured Timber Wolf.  Three more lances of heavies and assaults soon stepped onto the field.  Harrian chose to focus on the Timber Wolf, both because it was the most dangerous mech on the field and because it had likely been taken from a dead Jaguar.  He triggered his gauss rifle and watched as the other machine stumbled from the impact, but quickly righted itself under the skilled manipulations of its pilot.

The Timberwolf returned fire with its LRM’s and large lasers.  They connected, ravaging his Highlander, but the assault machine was built to weather such punishment.  He returned fire with his own LRM’s and began a lumbering run towards the Timber Wolf.  The Davion pilot began backing away, switching to their medium lasers as Harrian closed in.  Harrian fired his SRM’s then kicking in the jump jets.  Ninety tons of mech didn’t really soar through the air, but it was imposing and effective never the less.  Harrian came down on top of the Timber Wolf, giving it a ‘Highlander burial.’  The Timber Wolf wouldn’t be getting back up, but was salvageable. 

Harrian had to right himself before facing another opponent, this one in what his targeting computer was tagging as a Devastator.  He shrugged and waded back in, knowing that the enemy would give no quarter nor ask for any in return.

Hell’s Horses Encampment, Maria’s Elegy
Hesperus II, Federation of Skye
3 March 3055

Xandria Mitchell watched as the prisoner was brought forward.  The arrival of her Beta Galaxy and its accompanying warships had broken the back of the Ice Hellion defence.  The rapidity of her assault had netted her this prize, Weiland Cage, the so-called Khan of the Ice Hellions.

For his part, Weiland was battered and bruised but still held his head high.  The desperate defence here on the ground, and the sacrifice of the orbiting warships, had allowed all of the lower castes to escape, along with a minor protection detail of warriors.  Whatever happened here, his Clan would survive.

The Galaxy Commander paced before focusing on the Hellion leader.  “What shall I do with you, little weasel?”

Cage bristled, but calmed himself quickly.  “I do not care.  You will clearly not treat me honourably but know that you have failed here.  You may have destroyed my two galaxies, but my people live on.  You will not find them.”

“You are correct, not-Khan.  You are unworthy of my respect as a warrior.  If you were, your Clan would not have been abjured.  As to your people, they are no longer your concern.”  Mitchell drew her ceremonial sword.  The blade glistened in the light of the setting sun.  With a flourish, she brought the blade down.  The blade cut through the neck of Weiland Cage with ease.  As Mitchell wiped the blood from it, Cage’s head fell from his shoulders and fell to the ground with a thud.

Mitchell sheathed her sword then gestured to the corpse at her feet.  “Get that out of here.  It is time to inspect our new holdings.”

Smoke Jaguar Command, Brunswick Continent
New Avalon, Federated Suns
5 March 3055

“And we have made progress against the Heavy Guards position, taking out several companies worth of mechs.  Captured warriors have been unable to reveal the location of their base.  Apparently Marshal Hasek-Davion has his troops constantly on the move.”  Tiaret concluded her report and looked at the two men in front of her, men who were so very different from each other.  Lincoln Osis was, like her, massive as befitted an Elemental.  He was a man scarred by combat, but who continued to push forward despite his advancing age.  Trent Howell was much smaller but contained the spirit of the Jaguar.  He did not attack blindly but struck for his foes throat.  This constant searching for the Davions was wearing on him, but he continued to plan and adapt.

“And what of the situation on Albion?” Howell directed this to Osis.

Osis eyed the younger man.  “The scientists have not yet discovered a means to counter this disease.  I have ordered the infected to be quarantined in public buildings… stadiums and the like.  If we do not discover a solution soon, we will have to terminate them before this infection spreads.  Already we have lost dozens of technicians and a handful of warriors.”

Trent nodded thoughtfully.  “I have requested additional scientists, but Khan Wirth informs me they cannot be spared at the moment.  We must make do with what we have.”

As the two officers conversed a technician raced up with a report.  Tiaret took it from the young man and glanced over it.  What she saw caused her to frown.  “Sir,” she interrupted, “several JumpShips have arrived at a pirate point near the planet.  They have detached DropShips and are even now burning for the planet.  Aerospace fighters have been dispatched.  They report that the DropShips bear the markings of the 1st Kathil Uhlans and 12th FedCom.”

The saKhan and Galaxy Commander stopped their conversation, each considering what this meant to their plans.  The reinforcements might just give the Davion’s the edge.  Osis spoke first.  “Order the Sabre Cat and our fighters to take out as many of those ships as possible.”  Tiaret looked to Trent, who nodded his agreement reluctantly, before departing to communicate the orders to Star Commodore Sophie.

The battle for New Avalon was far from over.


-8-
Zenith Jump Point, Montour
Snow Raven Territory, Clan Domains
15 March 3055

“IR signal detected, Star Commodore.  Incoming JumpShip.”

Star Commodore Tambor Lankenau of the Aegis-class Feathered Serpent looked over to the duty officer, Star Commander Mena Tamm.  Both Tamm and the vessel itself had once belonged to the now defunct Steel Vipers.  The ship had adjusted to its new life easier than the officers, though Tamm was showing promise.

“Redirect the CAP, launch the ready fives and arm weapons.  There are no ships of ours scheduled to arrive.”

The bridge erupted into a flurry of activity, and then settled in to wait.  Within moments another JumpShip was present, several million kilometres off the starboard bow.

“CAP run a flyby.  Sensors, run a scan and see if you can identify our guest,” Lankenau ordered.

“Bridge, this is flight one,” came the static filled voice of the CAP lead pilot.  “Markings on the hull indicate civilian ship of probable Federated Suns origin.  No sign of offensive capabilities.  Orders?”

“Maintain position, flight one.  Communications open a channel to that ship.  Unidentified vessel, this is the Snow Raven vessel Feathered Serpent.  You have entered the realm of the Unkindness, state your purpose or risk destruction.”

The reply was several minutes in coming.  The voice was feminine, but raspy and guttural.  “Feathered Serpent, we are the merchant vessel Miriam.  We’re refugees from Macintosh.  We’re looking for sanctuary.  Are you authorized to negotiate?”

“Aff, Miriam.  Stand by, we are sending over an inspection crew.”

“Acknowledged, Feathered Serpent.  We’re looking forward to meeting you.”

“Send over two points of marines and a tech crew,” Lankenau ordered Tamm.

Nearly an hour had passed before the report came in, during which time the Miriam had deployed its sail.  “Star Commodore, this is technician Bradley.  A large portion of the passengers appear to be ill.  I cannot identify it, but given the whispers passing amongst the crew it is the Fever.  What are your orders?”

Tambor closed his eyes.  “Have you and your crew been exposed technician?”

“Aff, Star Commodore.  We did not enact quarantine protocols.  We are prepared for whatever your decision may be.”

“Commendable.”  Lankenau terminated the link and turned to Tamm.  “Target all weapons.  Destroy that ship.  It carries a plague that cannot be allowed to spread.”

“Aye Commodore.”  Tamm turned to her duty.

Death rained from the weapons of the Feathered Serpent, reducing the JumpShip to nothing but debris.  Lankenau ordered the CAP to sweep the wreckage for any survivors and terminate them.

The men and women of the Miriam died for the greater good.

Regulus City
Principality of Regulus
20 March 3055

Brian Lossey was trying to wait patiently, but it was difficult.  The so-called ‘Prince’ of Regulus was a pompous man who seemed to enjoy making others wait.  Lossey supposed that was his right as a ruler, but that did not mean he had to enjoy it.  At last Kirc Cameron-Jones made his appearance.  As ever the man was dressed in ostentatious robes, flouting his status as a noble.

“Ah Galaxy Commander, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

Lossey forced a smile onto his face.  “Not at all Duke.  To what do I owe the pleasure of this summons?”

“A simple conference, a comparison on the status of your garrison and how you view the defences of my realm at present.”

“The Principality is secure, nor is it likely to be unsecure at any point in the near future.  Your former countrymen are content to maintain their borders.”

Cameron-Jones looked thoughtful, nodding.  “Yes, yes.  I only ask because of the invasion currently being waged by the Smoke Jaguars.  Others might think that it’s an indication of a renewed invasion.  Now you know, and I know that that’s not the case, but the Captain-General might not.  So you can understand  my concern, right?”

“I do to a degree, aff.  However, I do not concern myself with hypotheticals.”

“I see, I see.  That’s very Clan of you.  Well then, that is all Galaxy Commander.  You can leave your report here and get back to your troops.”

Lossey’s eyes narrowed.  He threw down a PDA then spun on his heel and marched from the room.  Cameron-Jones watched him leave.  Once the door closed he moved to the opposite side of the room and opened another door.  Beyond was a small office, inside of which sat a young woman.  “You heard?” the duke asked her.

“Yes,” she replied.

Cameron-Jones produced a storage crystal and backed up the PDAs data.  “Make sure to use this well.”

“Of this I can assure you, Duke.  ROM thanks you for your cooperation.”

Cameron-Jones watched the unnamed operative leave as well.  Playing the two sides was a dangerous game, but might just put him in a position of real power.

-11-
Tara
Northwind, Federated Suns
10 April 3055

The young officer stood and watched as the Broadsword dropship descended and rolled to a stop on the tarmac.  The grey hull displayed both the Cameron star and the emblem of the Blood Spirits.  Within moments of stopping a hatch opened and a ramp descended to the ground.  A tall blonde woman emerged, back straight and oozing arrogance.  She stopped before the officer, sizing him up, and then spoke to him.  “I am Star Captain Tanica Campbell of the Blood Spirits.  I have been assigned as ilChi to this world and the forces that defend it.”

The officer offered a slight bow.  “I am Lieutenant Brian Cameron of the Revenants.  I’ve been instructed to take you to my commanders.  If you’ll follow me?” he said, gesturing at the nearby ground car.

The ride to the Fort was long and awkward.  Brian had thought that, as a trueborn himself, he would be able to identify with the Clan representative.  Clearly the difference in how he had been raised spoke volumes.  Fortunately the clanswoman seemed quite impressed by the Fort itself.  Which he supposed made sense.  Recalling his briefings, he knew that the Blood Spirits claimed that some of their founders had claimed connections to the Royal Black Watch, which in turn had connections to Northwind.

Taking her through the Fort, he at last arrived at the conference room.  Pushing open the door he entered first.  Sitting within were the three on planet Colonel’s; William MacLeod and Andrea Stirling of the Northwind Highlanders, as well as Kelly Yukinov of the Revenants.  Campbell nodded to each Colonel in turn before taking her seat, facing the panel.  Brian stepped back and closed the door.  What was said in this room would stay in this room until the Colonel’s decided otherwise.

The clanswoman got things rolling.  “I bring you greetings from Terra, the ilKhan and Khan Schmitt.”

Cat Stirling leaned forward.  “Yes, yes.  We’re all very happy to be sitting here.  Can we get down to business?  What is it that your ilKhan thinks he’s up to?”

Campbell grimaced at the contractions.  “Ulric Kerensky wishes to open a dialogue with the Highlanders and Revenants because of your connection to the Star League of old and the Clans respectively.  He believes that because of these connections we should not be in conflict with each other.  He further offers you an invitation to join the Star League or, if that is unacceptable to you, to recognize you as an independent and neutral power.”

The grey and scarred Yukinov barked out a laugh.  “You expect us to believe that we can join just like that?  That our turning against them is forgiven?  That our warring against them is forgotten?  Sorry girl, but I don’t buy it.”

“That is your right.  Shall I return to my ship then?”

MacLeod shook his head.  “Nae lass, ye just have to appreciate that we’re sceptical of the offer.  Your people and ours have been at war for five years and there’s been plenty o’ death on both sides.  That’s nae so easily forgotten by some.”

“I understand Colonel.  We seek to open the lines of communication.  Our goal, as you know, is to unify the Inner Sphere.  The ilKhan believes that this can be achieved without unnecessary warfare, to limit the death and destruction inflicted upon the civilian population.  Your own Highlanders claim descent from the SLDF, and because of this the ilKhan believes you share his view.  If you do, you would be worthy allies.  If you do not, you would make honourable foes.  Either is acceptable to the Way of the Clans.”

“And your ilKhan has something specific in mind does he?

“Indeed he does.  He proposes the formalization of your coalition into a nation-state.  The Star League would then recognize this nation, whether you were to join or not.  It frees you from the Davion yoke and grants you the one thing all of your commands desire; independence.”

“Ye understand that this is nae something we can decide right away?” asked MacLeod.

“Indeed.  I shall remain here until your decision is made.”

Errai Prime
Errai, Federated Suns
12 April 3055

Blue smoke curled through the air of the small office as Charles Antonescu chewed on the end of his cigar, absorbed in thought.  The print out in front of him, delivered by courier, had the potential to alter the fate of the Eridani Light Horse forever.  And it was not a decision he could make alone, for this he needed his staff and had summoned them.

In short order his two Colonel’s arrived, Natalia Roth of the 71st and Chang Shi Koh of the recently rebuilt 151st.  The pair were veterans of the fierce war against the Clans, and may not take kindly to the news.

“A few days ago the council on Northwind received an emissary of sorts from the Clans.  They were offering a deal.  The Clans will recognize our four worlds as an independent nation in exchange for our no longer assisting in the defence of the Federated Suns.  As far as I can tell the council is seriously considering the offer.  Your thoughts?”

“Are you kidding me?  A deal like this invalidates the sacrifice of our brothers and sisters during the Clan wars.  No frikkin way!”  As always, Roth was hot-tempered.

Koh was of course more level headed.  It was an important dynamic.  “Such an arrangement would give us the time we need to rebuild to full strength.  And from the looks of things we won’t be getting much support from the Davions.  Between the Fever and the Jaguar invasion, they have their hands full.  We should be looking out for our own.”

“Bah, that’s the cowards way out.  If the Federated Suns is at risk, we should be defending it, not considering this move to abandon it.  I say we pack up and head to New Avalon today,” retorted Roth.

Antonescu sighed.  He hadn’t expected an answer anyway.  “Begin polling the troops, quietly.  See what the general consensus is and we’ll move forward from there.”

The two Colonel’s, one thoughtful the other sullen, saluted their General and departed.  Antonescu resumed his thinking, not liking what the days ahead may bring.

Castle Sandoval
Robinson, Federated Suns
15 April 3055

Jackson Davion slumped in his chair, allowing himself a moment of despondency.  Hanse dead, the Prince’s Champion dead, the Marshal of the Armies trapped on New Avalon, and an emergency verigraph granting him the powers of regent until Katherine or one of the other children could take the throne.  He had never sought out power, but he was a man of honour and would fulfill his duty.

Yvonne and Arthur had been sent to a safe location under heavy guard, for in them lay the future of the realm.  With the heirs safe, Jackson could focus himself on retaking the capitol.  Andy Redburn had already launched an unauthorized relief force, something which he was unlikely to ever have to face charges for.  The man had only done what every citizen wanted to do.  Hell, it was what Jackson wanted to do now, but he couldn’t.  The safety of the realm entire took precedent over one world.  The Federated Suns was beset by enemies on nearly every front; the Combine, the Wolves, Jaguars and Ravens of the Star League, and this blasted fever that was sweeping the outback.  He simply could not justify the resources that would be spent on retaking New Avalon, but he must find a way.  The battered nation could be shattered if the people lost their seat of power.

As such Jackson had called a strategy meeting.  Arriving soon would be Duke James Sandoval and his son, Colonel Tancred Sandoval, as well as General Mae Fortuna.  Also in attendance would be General Justin Sortek of the Davion Guards.  The fate of New Avalon and the survival of the Federated Suns as they knew it were at stake.

Soon the officers and their senior aides arrived in the room set aside for this meeting.  All told, roughly a dozen men and women were present.  A dozen individuals to decide the future of the realm.

“Thank you all for coming,” Jackson began.  “As you are all aware, the Smoke Jaguars have begun a massive invasion of the Crucis March.  This does not appear to be a resumption of the ‘Star League’s’ war, but rather one of their own.  Regardless, they have landed troops on New Avalon.  The heart of our nation lies threatened by a beast.  Our purpose here today is to determine what to do about that threat.   From what intel we’ve been able to gather, effective forces on the ground have been reduced to just over two regiments, and that’s including the forces brought in by General Redburn.  What, if anything, can we do to help?  Keep in mind that New Avalon has been hit by the fever.”

“Why are we even discussing this?  I’m ready to load my troops up and head out now!” exclaimed Justin Sortek.

Leaning forward almost reluctantly Tancred Sandoval looked at all those present.  “I hate to be the one to view things from this perspective, but why even consider this?  Aside from symbolic value, what’s left for us on New Avalon?  Hanse is dead, and the heirs are safe.  Our troops are drastically reduced in number.  Even with four years of relative peace, the AFFS is in serious need of rebuilding.  If we pour in more troops now, we risk losing them.  We need to gain strength.  Maybe in a few years we’ll be able to consider retaking the capitol, but not now.”

Justin Sortek slammed his fist down on the table.  “How can you even say that?  Those are OUR people there!  We can’t abandon them!”

“I have no intention of doing so,” Jackson began, “at least not in the long term.  For now, these are your orders.  All AFFS troops in the Outback are to withdraw into the Crucis March and reinforce valuable worlds, worlds we’ll need to have in order to properly retake the regions we have to temporarily abandon.”

Cries of dismay arose from around the table.  “Silence!  I am the regent and this is my decision!  History will judge me, and me alone.  You have your orders.”

The officers stood and filed out of the room, leaving Jackson to feel very much alone again.


-12-
Gawain, Brunswick Continent
New Avalon, Disputed
15 April 3055

The lines of troops converged, the warriors intent on annihilating each other.  Davion infantry bravely (or foolishly) went toe to toe with elementals.  Mechs charged forward and engaged in vicious melee attacks due to depleted ammunition and combat damage.  It was a no hold barred battle that raged through the streets of Gawain.

The command unit under Morgan Hasek-Davion had been forced to retreat into the city when the forces of the Jaguar Spirits and Jaguar Grenadiers finally caught up with them.  Galaxy Commander Osis was personally leading the assault, seeking the glory of besting Morgan personally.  His personal point of elementals scoured the city for the Davion leader, laying waste to any who opposed them.

For his part, Morgan Hasek-Davion was leading his troops from his mobile HQ, attempting to once more pull victory from the jaws of defeat.  Things were not looking good at present.  His command had been trapped in the city, which was thankfully abandoned.  The fighting was progressing from building to building and was not going well for the Davions.  These Jaguar troops had descended to an unseen level of ferocity.

Lincoln Osis waded through the spheroid infantry, cutting them down in such numbers that he didn’t even bother to keep track.  Their blood was splashed upon his body armour, making him an even more terrifying sight.  He advanced without remorse towards his goal, the mobile HQ that was directing the entire war effort against the Clan.

“Alpha star, forward!  We seek the Stravag that dares to lead forces against us.  This world was once home to our founder and it will be ours again!  Forward, strike for the throat, and rend our enemy to pieces!”

A great roar of approval came across the com lines.  The Jaguars pounced forward, slaughtering the Davion defenders.  Osis himself was carried away by the bloodlust and searched for the mobile HQ carrying his opposite number.  At last he spied it not far ahead, in the shadow of a crumbled factory.  He and his troops moved forward, only to be confronted by a defence force of infantry and light vehicles.  Hardly a challenge for his elite elementals.

Twenty-five battle hardened elementals surged forward, like an unstoppable wave of death.  Vehicles were breeched, infantry eviscerated and elementals killed.  It was an orgy of death and destruction, where neither side was willing to give up.

It was Osis himself who finally ripped the door off the mobile HQ.  He was greeted by a hail of small arms fire from the techs within, but he shrugged those aside.  Like a hunter of old he zeroed in on his foe, Morgan Hasek-Davion, easily discerned by his height and mane of golden-red hair.  Osis flexed the claw of his battle suit and stomped forward.  He smashed in the skulls of several technicians and punched through the chest of one woman who refused to get out of his way.  Hasek-Davion himself produced a weapon and fired it at the incoming elemental.  Osis waded through the laser fire and batted the weapon from Hasek-Davion’s hand, the force of the blow breaking the limb.  Osis then gripped his uniform and lifted the Marshal into the air.  Osis opened the helmet of his armour so he could glare into his opponents eyes.  “You will order your forces to stand down at once.”

Morgan then did the last thing Osis expected; he laughed.  “If you think I’ll do that you’re sadly mistaken.  I’ve been prepared for this ever since you cornered us yesterday.”

Rage overtook the Clan warrior and he threw Morgan across the confines of the mobile HQ.  The Marshal hit a bank of instruments with a resounding crash.  He flopped to the floor but managed to prop himself up with his broken arm.  Using his good arm Morgan pulled a device from his pocket.  “I do this not only for my Prince and my nation, but to send your sorry Clanner butt to whatever hell you may believe in.”  With that, he pressed home the button.  Understanding dawned on Osis’ face just before the HQ erupted into a ball of fire.

Chapter 15

Ravens Roost, Perdition
Snow Raven Territory, Clan Domains
22 April 3055

The drop port took up nearly a quarter of this particular island, but was noticeably devoid of DropShips.  The surrounding seas were calm, with only a slight breeze carrying the smell of the surf upon the air.  The sun was high on the horizon, the warm light shining down through a cloudless blue sky.  Gulls hovered in the air, searching for whatever they might be able to scavenge.

The twin caskets, silver and etched with the Cameron star, were carefully loaded into the cargo section of the Union-C class Blooding.  The Blood Spirit and Snow Raven officers present saluted in SLDF fashion as the caskets passed.  An honour guard of elementals, also from both Clans, fired three shots into the air after they passed.

The two commanders, Troy Boques and Trask Howe, stood side by side both decked out in dress uniforms, the black and white of the Snow Raven’s contrasting with the red and black of the Blood Spirit’s.  Once the caskets were loaded, Howe turned to Boques and offered his hand.  “It was a pleasure to meet you Star Colonel.  I hope to work with you again in the future.”

Boques looked at the extended hand blankly.  “It is an Inner Sphere custom I picked up from some Taurian bondsmen,” Howe explained.

“I am familiar with the practice.  I was merely determining whether I wished to take you up on it.”

Howe laughed, loudly and with great mirth.  “That is what I like about you Star Colonel.  You are refreshingly honest.  Enjoy your trip to Mars.  If you or your Khan needs anything, do not hesitate to call upon the Unkindness.”

Boques nearly sneered.  “I will take that under advisement.  Good-bye Star Captain.  You have proven… an interesting companion.”

“Safe travels.”

With a grunt of acknowledgment Boques turned and ascended the ramp.  Howe watched him go, then jumped into a nearby jeep.  He drove it safely back to the control complex and entered just in time to hear the chief technician give the Blooding permission to take off.  He watched as the Blood Spirit vessel climbed into the sky, his face carefully schooled not to show any expression. 

His aide, Star Commander Hege, stepped up beside him.  “Why did we give the remains to the Spirits so easily Star Captain?  What is it you expect them to do?”

A smirk creased Howe’s face.  “They will do exactly what the Khan expects them to do.  Their history will allow them to do only one thing.”

Hege frowned.  “And what might that be?”

Howe spun to face her.  He held up one finger and squinted an eye.  “That, my dear, is a secret!”  With that, the Star Captain left.

“I hate it when he does that.”

Blooding, departure vector

The metal was smooth and cool to the touch, except where the Cameron star had been skilfully etched into the surface.  Inside lay the future of the Blood Spirits, perhaps even the future of all the Clans and Inner Sphere alike.  Troy Boques felt the need to kneel before the caskets, to pray like some pathetic Cloud Cobra, but shrugged it off.  He would deliver this sacred bundle to the Khan and she would decide how best to use it.

Leaving the caskets he made for his ready room, where he would begin making plans on how to keep the Ravens from letting slip what had been found.


Chapter 16 - “Fallout”

Ghost Bear Enclave, Unity City
Terra, Clan Domains
23 April 3055

Fingers drummed on the surface of the Terran oak as Michael Hawkins, Loremaster of the Ghost Bears, waited impatiently for the technician to get back to him.  At last the young woman approached, looking decidedly nervous.  “I am sorry Loremaster, but we still cannot raise Oriente.  The HPG is not picking up a signal.”

“How can that be?”

“I do not know sir.  Perhaps they are down for unscheduled maintenance.  The transmitter is an Inner Sphere model that hasn’t been properly maintained for centuries.  Such failures are to be expected.”

“Yes, perhaps.”  Hawkins sat there, thinking.  “Connect to the White Claw.  I want to speak to Star Commodore Hakimi.”

“At once sir,” the technician saluted and departed.

At last his screen lit up with the face of Kiira Hakimi.  “Star Commodore, I have an urgent mission for you.”

Even though she was in zero-g the Star Commodore straightened.  “How may I be of service Loremaster?”

“I need you to go to Oriente at once and report back to me as soon as you can.”

Hakimi frowned.  “Is anything wrong Loremaster?”

“I do not know.  I hope it is merely a technical malfunction but we must know what is happening on our capital.”

“As you say, Loremaster.  I will begin jump prep at once.”

Once the screen winked off, Hawkins steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair.  He felt uneasy, the same sort of unease he experienced on the battlefield.  Something was very, very wrong.

Outer Ruins of Amur
Oriente, Ghost Bear Territory, Clan Domains

The first sign of returning consciousness was a constant, rhythmic drumming.  There was something wet on his face that was gradually helping to revive him.  Tseng levered his eyes open slowly and surveyed his battered cockpit.  As expected his instruments were ruined.  The viewport was shattered, which was letting in the rain, a filthy looking black rain that coated everything in a layer of what looked like tar.  It was this sticky rain that trickled down his face. 

With a groan, Hunter unbuckled his five-point restraining harness and carefully crawled out of his broken mech.  Standing atop the ruined machine he stared out at the horizon.  A steady rain fell, making it difficult to see far, but he could still see far enough to know that Amur was gone.  Completely.  Despite the rain, small fires continued to burn.

Scrambling down to the ground, he made his way to the nearest of his mechs and saw the warrior already sitting atop the missile rack, a look of shock upon his face.  “MechWarrior Richius!”  The warrior gradually shifted focus to his commander.  “Y… yes Star Colonel?”

“Come down from there.  We must check on the rest of the cluster.  I will need your help.”

“Aff, Star Colonel!”

It took some time to gather up his clusters survivors, but once he did Hunter was pleased.  There were few casualties and they even had several mechs that were still operational.  The wounded were rounded up and placed under shelter and the operational mechs split into two groups.  One was sent closer to the blast site while the other was sent back along the highway to meet up with any emergency services that had been dispatched.

Within an hour Tseng had a field command unit set up, directing the recovery efforts as the medics attended to him and his warriors, ensuring they had not been dosed with too much radiation.  He dispatched a handful of elementals, all volunteers, to enter the ruins and attempt to retrieve the battle ROMS from any mechs they could find.  They were also to investigate the command bunker and determine whether or not the Khan had survived.  It was unlikely, but had to be done.

At last the emergency services were responding.  The planetary militia brought their field hospitals forward, along with the few experts on nuclear fallout.  Tseng was also coordinating the evacuation of nearby settlements that were in danger from fallout.  To that end he had commandeered several merchant DropShips and was using them to ferry civilians to safety.

His next major headache was how to get the news of the attack out.  With the capital gone, so was the HPG and there were currently no jump or warships in the system.  He would have to wait for the next ship through before he could warn the other Bear worlds, assuming they had not already been attacked.  Elections would have to be held to replace both Khans, a rare occurrence indeed, and because of it, it was of paramount importance that the Loremaster be informed so he could take leadership of the Clan until the bloodnamed could be gathered.

Star Commander Tarren approached, her blonde hair darkened by soot, her eyes bloodshot.  “Star Colonel, we have a report from the blast site.  As expected there are no survivors, nor have we been able to recover any battle ROMS.  The team did locate the hulk of one of the DropShips.  They have managed to confirm that the invaders were Regulan.”

Rage filled Hunter but he forced it down so he could think.  “Excellent, have them mark the location so we may retrieve it later, then have them return here.  I do not want them to die from exposure.”

“Aff Star Colonel.”

Ghost Bear Enclave, Unity City
Terra, Clan Domains
27 April 3055

Five days.  Five days to learn the terrible truth.  Amur devastated.  Both Khans were dead.  Countless warriors dead, killed without honour.  Innumerable civilians placed at risk.  The Bear had been wounded and its family placed at risk.  There would be a reckoning.  To that end Hawkins had called a meeting of the bloodnamed warriors of Clan Ghost Bear.  Those not here in person were attending via tele-presence.  Hawkins stood before them all, his rage kept in check by an incredible force of will.

“Trothkin near and far, I stand before you humbled and enraged.  A terrible crime has been perpetrated upon the Children of the Bear.  Five days ago we were attacked, not in honourable combat, but in a dishonourable sneak attack.  When the attackers discovered they were not strong enough to kill the Bear in his own den, they opted to strike in the most cowardly and despicable manner imaginable.  They struck at our capital with nuclear weapons.  Amur is no more.  Our Khans are dead as are thousands of Clan warriors and millions of civilians.”

Cries of dismay sounded, as did bellows of rage.  An eruption of talking as warriors began speaking to those around them, giving vent to their thoughts.

Holding his hands up in the air, Hawkins gestured for silence and eventually he was granted it.  “I know what you are thinking, for I am thinking it as well.  You want revenge, but know not where to strike.  Do not fear trothkin, for through the diligent efforts of Star Colonel Hunter Tseng we have learned who the perpetrators are.  The Principality of Regulus.”

This time the roar was deafening as Bear warriors expressed their rage and called for blood.  Chaos reigned and Hawkins let it, for he felt the same.  Eventually order returned as warriors quieted and returned to their seats.

“My warriors, we will have our revenge.  But first we must elect our new Khans, Khans who will lead us to bloody victory over the treacherous forces of Regulus.  I open the floor to nominations.”

Minutes passed as the assembled council deliberated amongst themselves, minutes that Hawkins passed in anxious silence.  He did not know who would eventually be elected, having had no chance to poll the bloodnamed before the council.

At last Roberto Snuka, commander of Delta Galaxy, stood to address the council.  “I nominate Michael Hawkins for the post of Khan.”

“Seconded!” called out Paul Vishio.
Hawkins bowed his head.  “I am honoured by your consideration of me.”  He turned to his aide.  “Aletha, please take over the duties of Oathmaster.”

Aletha Kabrinski nodded and stood.  “I am the Oathmaster.  Let the children of the Bear cast their votes.”  Through the room and all across Ghost Bear occupied space the surviving Ghost Bears cast their votes.  It didn’t take long, a mere fifteen minutes.  Aletha stood by the Loremaster’s podium and tallied the votes.  “By a margin of five to one, Michael Hawkins has been elected Khan, thus shall it be ‘til we are all dust.”

Hawkins stepped forward again.  “My first order of business is to nominate Hunter Tseng as saKhan, for his abilities as a warrior and his struggle to contain the disaster and save as many as possible on Amur.  Are there any opposed?”  He cast a glance at Aletha who shook her head.  “Then warriors, let us plan our revenge.”

Grand Council Chambers, Unity City
Terra, Clan Domains
29 April 3055

The council chambers were silent; many of those present knew what was coming.  It was Ulric who spoke first.  “This council has been called at the request of the Ghost Bears.  They wish to address a matter of the utmost seriousness.  Khan Hawkins.”

With some gravity Michael Hawkins stood and looked around the chamber, fixating on the sole delegate from the Principality of Regulus.  “Khan’s, leaders of the Star League.  By now you have all undoubtedly heard of the disaster which befell Amur.  How an attacker using nuclear weapons destroyed the city and killed both our Khans.  What you do not know is that we have ascertained the identity of our attackers.  Rather than being one of the Spheroid powers that have yet to see their destiny lies with the Star League, it was one of our own from this council.  The Principality of Regulus.”

Cries of outrage came from the assembled leaders.  “Not possible!” cried out Janet Simmons, the only Regulan representative present.  “We are missing no military assets!”

“And yet your leader declined to attend this meeting.  Does this not speak to his guilt?” countered Hawkins.

“No.  The Prince had important matters to deal with at home, that doesn’t mean...”

“Enough!” Hawkins bellowed, interrupting her.  “We have proof of your treachery!  And it will be dealt with.  I am here to inform the council that Ghost Bear forces under saKhan Tseng are jumping into Regulan territory.  We will not stop until their military is no more and their ruler dead or in our hands.”

“Now wait just a minute!” protested Simmons.

“You will find General,” said Persis Anu of the Jade Falcons, “that the Bears are most stubborn and will not heed your objections.  You should best prepare yourself for death.”

Hawkins nodded to the Falcon Khan.  He then turned to Ulric.  “What say you ilKhan?”

“I have reviewed your evidence Khan Hawkins and your anger is justified.  I warn you though, not to expand your war to the civilians, or I will unleash the Wolves upon you.”

“You need not fear ilKhan.  Unlike the Regulans, we know how to wage honourable combat.”

As the Bear Khan left, Ulric gestured to the guards from Unity Keshik, indicating that they take General Simmons into custody.

Since I did the maps for 3052, I had not read much of this.  It has developed impresivly.  Would you like me to upload the map I did for you?

Where would you like it?