OBT Forum

Chapter 17

Forbidden City, Sian,
Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation
11 April, 3023. 


Romano Liao howled at her sister in anger.  ”How dare you think to get away with such an attempt on the throne sister.  I know you seek to place those new units father wants in a position of loyalty to you so you can remove him and turn on ME!”

Here we go again.  Thought Candace.  Her dear sister Romano kept a mental tally in her head of what she believed the score was between them.  When she scored points she became insufferable, when Candace scored, she bitched.  In this situation, Candace has scored big, very big.  “Dearest sister,” Candace began, “Perhaps father simply wished to ensure that the new regiments would be trained in proper tactics and strategy, and not turned into a pack of raving religious fanatics.”  That should keep her going until father gets here. 

Romano’s face went through several shades of red before here top completely blew.  “YOU INSUFFERABLE WHORE!”  Romano screamed “It is MY right that those regiments be moulded in MY image, the image of power and strength that is the hallmark of MY people.  You seek to strengthen St. Ives until you have your own little empire, all but a jump from father’s throat.  I know your plan and I will never let you complete it.  Stupid Tormana may think you the darling of family, but I have known your ways since I was born.”  It was at this point the Maximillian Liao, well groomed and assured as ever, and Pavel Ridzik with his uniform lit up with the many awards he had gained over the years, entered to see Romano in full fury.  Candace chose that precise moment to smile at her sister in the most vacant way possible, driving Romano still further into a rage, as she had not heard her father enter behind her.

Romano continued, her voice getting louder and louder.  “I know you seek to supplant father and remove that idiot Ridzik, may Kali send him to hell.  You would enslave our fool brother and see me off to ensure your own path to the throne.  I will not have it!  I WILL SEE YOU DEAD!”  Romano punctuated her last outburst by hurling one of the small jade carvings that adorned the centre of the large oak meeting table that dominated the room at her sister.

The carving tumbled lazily through the air, missing Candace by inches and smashing through a window of one of the rooms many display cases, which was filled with priceless Han antiques.  “An interesting take on our future little daughter.  I wonder what Senior Colonel Ridzik thinks?” Said Maximilian in a voice like a snake.

Romano spun quickly, her tightly braided hair wheeling out behind her.  “Father?” Her voice turned sweet, “I was merely protecting your future against my sister’s machinations.”  She did not even look at Ridzik.

“Interesting that her actions were at my order.  Do you disagree with what I have done Romano?”

Romano saw the danger immediately.  “No father, I have always believed in your vision for the Confederation.  I merely act to ensure all follow your will as keenly as I.”

Deceitful little wretch, you are out for yourself, like me, like Ridzik, and like our father.  We all stand alone in this place.

“I can return later should you wish Excellency?”  Ridzik said, looking as impassive as ever.  The man knew when to put his head in the sand, a skill learned over many years in service to the Liao family.

Maximillian turned his head slightly.  “There will be no need, Pavel, we will discuss what we came her to discuss and my daughters can have their little spat at a time that suits us all better.”  He turned to face his daughters.  “All of you sit.”  Everyone quickly arranged themselves at the table, Max at the head with Ridzik to his right, Romano to his left and Candace at the foot.  Romano smiled with her success at beating Candace to her father’s side.  Small victory sister.

Maximillian wasted little time in starting proceedings.  “Candace, what of the Capellan Grenadiers and your plans for the strike from St. Ives.?”

“Father,” Candace began, “the first three of the six planned Grenadier regiments and their supporting formations have been forming up and training together on Hexare.  To date the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Grenadiers are at 75%, 60%, and 50% of their authorised strength respectively, and will be at full strength by years end.  The 4th, 5th, and 6th will form during 3024.  Thus far, their drive and dedication has been exemplary and they are coming together as units quickly.  As per your orders, I have taken temporary overall command until you decide on a commander for the entire Corps.”  Romano sneered as Candace continued.  “With these extra regiments, and those of St. Ives, I will the launch strikes as requested from January of 3025 aimed at taking the Kittery Thumb.  Initial forces will land on Shoreham, Royalston, Happajarvi, Corella, and Hadnall.  These forces will be tasked with taking these worlds and digging in.  Second wave forces will land on Weekapung, Mentasta, and Beid, further isolating the tip of the salient.  From there, any reserve forces can act as a ready strike force to assist against any Davion counter-attack.  Over time, the remaining worlds of Kittery, Scituate, Gurnet, and Spica will be reduced by Death Commando strike units; Maskirovka led uprisings, and whatever forces can be spared from worlds already taken.”

Maximilian smiled like and angel as he looked at his daughter, his expression mirrored perfectly in its negative by Romano.  “How many BattleMech regiments will you require daughter?”

“Twelve, plus three to five regiments in reserve and standard supporting forces.  All told approximately forty eight regiments with nine to fifteen in reserve and four to six full aerospace regiments.”

“You would strip our heartland bear you fool!” Snarled Romano.

“She will do no such thing.” Returned Maximillian.  “Senior Colonel, what do you think of this plan?”

The as to now quite Colonel thought for a moment, as if weighing the risks.  “The plan is acceptable and achievable, but as Romano points out, the realms heartland will be left vulnerable, even more so should you wish me to carry out the strike from Tikonov, six new regiments notwithstanding.”

Max smiled like a cat in the cream.  “There will be no threat, as I will move at least a dozen to eighteen regiments from the Marik border to reinforce you Pavel as well as providing Candace with enough force to mount a similar operation against the Ziliang Salient.”

There was silence for a moment around the table as Romano and Pavel absorbed what Candace already knew.  Of course she did not yet know how her father planned to protect the Free Worlds border.  Then Romano exploded.  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING FATHER?  You will see the end of us all, of the Celestial Throne, of our entire House.  How can you leave us to the Eagle’s talons like this?  You are MAD!”

Maximilian’s face grew stern.  “Question me again daughter and you can return to Highspire permanently.  Do you think I would be so foolish as to leave us open to the Marik’s?  ComStar is providing us with the materials we need and the forces to garrison both sides of the border whilst we fall on Davion and Steiner.  Should Marik or, and I warn you most pointedly to the extent that should you disobey me you will die, you yourself take advantage of the situation to strike out at your blood foe, then ComStar will interdict both states.  We are safe as long as we focus on Davion.  Once we have reclaimed those systems lost since the Star League era, we will turn on Marik and give him his due.”

Romano was dumbfounded, something Candace had to admit was as rare as a quintuple star system.  Colonel Ridzik spoke up.  “Now Celestial Wisdom, I can plan the end of our foes.  From Tikonov, Jonothan, and Ronel, I will strike out in your name and reclaim the Terran systems we once held and restore Chesterton to the Confederation.  Perhaps the Lady Romano would do me the honour of leading the Chesterton strike from Jonothan?”  You rat bastard, she just said she would see you dead and now you play up to her.  So this is where you stand Colonel?  I may have to deal with you before I even take the throne.  Despite her inner anger, Candace held her tongue.

Romano’s eye glowed as she saw herself becoming the one to return the long lost Chesterton Worlds to the Capellan fold.  She grabbed her father’s arm and begged.  “Oh father, you must allow me to fulfil this destiny, my destiny.  A Liao must walk upon Chesterton as a saviour from the Davion yoke.”

Max smiled, a wild light coming into his eyes.  “Yes Romano, a Liao must.  You will do as the Colonel directs, but you will be the first on Chesterton, in my name.”

Candace’s insides dropped.  Damm you wretch.  With Rizdik’s stupid idea you become father’s darling.  Even if you take back just one Chesterton World, you will do more in his eyes and the Confederation’s than I can by taking twenty worlds from the Kittery and Ziliang Salients.  This must end soon little sister, very soon, or else your cold soul will sit on our ancestral throne and I will end up rotting in a hole on St. Ives.

Chapter 19

Sandhurst Military Academy,
England, Terra
16 May, 3023. 
 
This lot better be worth the effort, thought Angus. The first of the ComGuards new Combat Brigades was ready to be activated after flying through training and equipping.  Christ, how did Pat manage this?  The reorganising of the standing forces, with a liberal poaching of the Terran Security Forces had gone surprisingly smoothly, but all and sundry had expected the new units to have all sorts of issues in during their creation.  Pat however, had done his level best to channel Satan and become what many were referring to as the Terror of Sandhurst.  Soldiers were too scared to fail, and several quartermasters had learned the hard way that the word “no” was up there with a full declaration of war as far as Pat was concerned. The liberal, though not completely overt use of nascent Terran nationalism was proving to be useful in welding the new formations together, far more so than a nebulous adherence to a religion built around the worship of technology. Terran recruit’s attitude to ComStar practices ranged from smugly amused to outright derision, and it had caused issues with long serving ComStar personnel who were strict adherents to the faith. Pat was already working to fix that issue, though it remained to be seen if the fix would work when Precentor Waterly discovered it.

Pat, at his parade ground best, hollered at the assembled troops.  “ComGuards, Thirty First Combat Brigade, Dis-missed.”  As one, the assembled officers and men saluted, faced right and began marching off the parade ground.

Once Angus had lowered his own salute, he moved forward to stand just behind Pat, so he could speak quietly in his ear. Pat was displaying his best parade ground prick demeanour, and Angus just loved stirring him up about it whenever he had the chance. “What’s it worth to you for me not to tell that story about the time I got lost in the brothel on Mentasta right now?  You know that one where you found me getting chased by that furious Canopian Cat girl?”  Hamilton asked in a quite voice, his mouth barely moving.  He just could not help himself.

“Your continued ******* life and good health is what!”  Pat growled back in a voice from the crypt.

As the last of the new recruits left the field Pat tuned to face his commander.  Angus spoke before Pat could say anything.  “You’ve changed Precentor.  It used to be about the music.”

Pat could no longer help himself and started laughing.  Once he had finished he answered.  “I’ve changed Precentor-Martial?  I still get to stomp on newbie’s and slap around training officers whilst you swan around with the First Circuit.  What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Hamilton turned and began to walk off the viewing platform once the other officers had departed before answering, the cool late afternoon wind blowing his ComGuard robe about.  “You have Pat.  You are becoming something of a miracle worker.  The new units are forming up on time and with their full compliment and you are scaring the buggers straight.  The First Circuit and Precentor Dieron think the sun shines from my ass.”

“When all that’s shinning from it is me.”  Added Pat.

“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling them.”  Pat heard the altered tone in the Precentor Martial’s voice.

“I take it Precentor Dieron still disapproves of my methods?”

“Pat, you give atheism a bad name.  You hardly give the hearts and minds mob a chance in the classroom, and your little slip of the tongue at the first briefing has not been forgotten.”

Pat stopped and pulled his friend up with a hand on his arm.  “They wanted results and damm it and I’m getting them.  I don’t give a rat’s arse what the spiritual needs of a toaster are or how praying to it might make my breakfast taste better.  I don’t trust Waterly and neither should you.  Have you even seen the Primus yet?”

Hamilton leant back against a tree before answering.  “No.  It seems the Primus may be somewhat cloistered from what I can gather.  Waterly has something on him and it’s given her carte blanche with the military.  I don’t trust her, she is the oiliest, slipperiest politician I have ever met, but I do have to work with her.  That means you have to make my life easier.  Keep the troops marching out and keep your opinions to yourself.  I can’t have her getting rid of you when you are keeping me in a job.”

Pat snorted.  “Be a real shame for people to see how incompetent you really are without me around.  I’ll try and be nice, but I’m not going to start kissing my holovid player goodnight.”

Angus laughed and they both began to walk back towards the main building again.  “Fine with me.”

Both men walked in silence across the lawn and into the main building, returning salutes as required.  Eventually they arrived back at Angus’s office and entered the room.  Both men stopped in the door as the thin figure at the window turned to face them.  The man’s wan face and long nose lent him an almost rodent like air, but anyone who dismissed him as vermin did so at their own peril.  “Good afternoon Precentor Martial Hamilton, Precentor Millray.  It is nice to finally make your acquaintance.”  Said Leyland Belov, Precentor ROM.  “May the Peace of Blake be with you both.”

Before Angus could even answer, Pat shot off his mouth.  “Like hell it is when you let yourself in unannounced.”

Angus put his hand on Pat’s arm.  “Its fine Pat, let it lie.”  The Precentor Martial extended his hand to Precentor ROM.  “The Peace of Blake be with you Precentor.”  Both men shook hands before Belov extended his hand to Pat.  Pat accepted as the Precentor ROM apologised.  “You must forgive me Precentor Millray, I was sent directly from Hilton Head.  Precentor Dieron said she would inform you of my visit.”  Both men shrugged.  “Perhaps not.  May we talk?”

Like you refuse Precentor ROM an afternoon chat, even if you’re the Precentor Martial.  Thought Angus. 

Precentor ROM seated himself in on of the three old battered green leather chairs that sat around the bay window that formed an alcove off the main section of the office and looked across Sandhurst’s extensive grounds.  The other two joined him, sitting on either side of the Precentor ROM, who took the central position.

The small man, Angus was sure he could throw him a good ten meters on a bad day, began talking in a measured, almost slow tone, with a slight Russian accent as he folded his hands in his lap.  “I would be happy to sit here in this warm spot and talk about simple pleasures and other places, but I wished to meet you and discuss Precentor Dieron’s latest request.”

“What does the honoured Precentor wish of us?”  Asked Precentor Hamilton.

Belov smiled at Hamilton’s use of words. “Due to the hurried nature of the ComGuards expansion, despite its obvious success,” he bowed his head to Pat, “Precentor Dieron feels that the ComGuards could be served well by the assigning of ROM personnel to the command and intelligence sections of the ComGuards.”

Pat smiled a wry smile.  “Spies in the High Command, Precentor?  Hardly up to her usual subtlety.”

Strangely enough, Precentor ROM smiled back.  “I said the same thing, though of course she denied it.  My long-time support of the Precentor sometimes blinds her to the fact that my first concern is the proper functioning of ROM, all other considerations are secondary to that.”

Something clicked at that moment for Angus, and he felt his stomach drop away as the revelation hit him.  It was something many years later Angus would still look back on and wonder about.  He would often wonder how he came to the decision he did and why.  At the time, as Pat would point out later, he was getting in bed with the devil, but this devil held many of the keys to the kingdom and an ally like that could not be passed up.  Angus would look back and see this meeting as the real beginning, the genesis of the rest of his life.  Without this one meeting, that sudden decision, his life would have been very different. 

Hs spoke up.  “Precentor Belov, I take it Precentor Dieron’s plan does not suit the current requirements of ROM?”

“No, it does not.”  A very level stare was shared.

“The primary issue being…?”

“Manpower.  Recent efforts by the First Circuit, following incidents with a previous Precentor ROM, in the Free Worlds League with Wolfs Dragoons, have seen our manpower and resources drawn back somewhat.”

Angus thought for a moment.  “The manpower requirement of her plan must be large indeed.”

“It is.”

“How large?”

“The complete acquisition of the ComGuards battlefield and command intelligence arms to be run by ROM staff.”

The Precentor Martial smiled at Pat.  “And Precentor Millray and the Precentor Naval are doing too good a job at expanding the military.  You can’t keep up can you?  The manpower requirements would cripple ROM’s other operations.  Succeed at one task and you fail at the other and you become easy prey.  Which leads me to the question: What did you do to cross her?”

Precentor ROM leaned back in his chair, tapping on one of his teeth with his left index finger.  “Firstly, yes you have been too successful in expanding your forces, and your projected growth in numbers will outstrip anything I can do with ROM in the same time frame.  Secondly, I opposed the expansion of the ComGuards.”

Pat leaned forwards.  “So first you didn’t even want us and now you want to control us.”

“Wrong on both counts Precentor Millray.  We need the ComGuards, however, I do not believe need the guards in such numbers so quickly.  My opposition was purely based on the diversion of resources and manpower I could have otherwise had access to.  I also have no wish to control the ComGuards.  Few in ROM have military experience and we have neither the time nor people to acquire it.”

The Precentor Martial decided now was the time.  “There is a solution.  A solution that will satisfy us both, and when presented to Precentor Dieron as a joint effort, one that will have to be accepted.”

Precentor ROM cocked his head to one side.  “What do you propose?”

“We don’t want ROM running battlefield intel, it just won’t work, and you need the bulk of your people elsewhere, should it happen, both of our organisation will be thrown into chaos.  Instead, I propose that you assign a ROM liaison team, a small group of analysis specialists, who can collate and interpret data quickly to assist the Brigade Commanders.  They can work fist in glove with the Staff Intelligence officers who, I must admit, need the help.  Many just don’t have the experience we need yet at operational and strategic intelligence analysis.  This way we fulfil the spirit if not the letter of Precentor Dieron’s request.  The ComGuard command structure maintains itself and you are not drained of manpower.”

Precentor ROM smiled; an altogether frightening visage.  “Yes, I see your way of thinking.  We need more to convince her however.  I believe that your thinking would best be supported through ensuring that the liaison teams have priority access to military intelligence generated by ROM from our other sources, both on planet and from other systems, to assist them and your officers in planning.  This way, we appear to be happily cooperating, providing Precentor Dieron with what she wants, and both maintaining control of our assets.”

“Whilst ensuring we both keep an eye on the other Percentor ROM eh?” Angus smiled as he said it and Pat snorted.

Belov also smiled. “Ah yes, Precentor Martial, yes indeed. Welcome to the Machiavellian world of ComStar politics, where watching one friends is as important as watching one’s enemies.
Yeah, but what one are you? Thought Angus.

Precentor ROM stood and extended his hand, with the Precentor Martial doing the same.  Angus spoke first however. “I will have my staff draw up a plan for your people to implement.  We will need them to undertake training here at Sandhurst to familiarise themselves with our processes and to be able to acquit themselves in the field.  Will our people need training at your end?”

“I can provide ROM officers to come here if you like, to centralise the training?”

“Excellent.  On one condition.”

Precentor ROM looked surprised but nodded.  “Very well, what is it?”

“You present this plan to Precentor Waterly.”

Precentor ROM laughed, a sound almost a frightening as his smile.  “Very well Precentor Martial you have a deal. I do like the way you negotiate, perhaps sometime soon we should play cards?” Angus nodded as the Precentor ROM continued speaking, “I must return to Cairo first, before heading back to Hilton Head.  It has been a most enlightening conversation Precentor Martial, Precentor Millray.”  Both men bowed slightly as Precentor ROM bowed himself, then turned and walked from the room.

Pat looked at his old friend with a look of pure disbelief once the door was closed and Belov’s footsteps had faded.  “Well done dickhead!  Now we have riddled our forces and Sandhurst with informants.”

“Yes we have.  Informants, who moonlight for us, provide us with strategic intelligence, and who we know the faces of. “Angus’s voice was just as hard.  “This might just be an alliance of convenience, but it has turned out better than I could have hoped.  This was always going to happen and at least the Precentor ROM will be well disposed to my next offer, instead of working against us and setting us up for a fall for Waterly.”

“What’s to say he isn’t?” Pat retorted.

“Nothing at all.”

Chapter 21

System CDSISS 00827, Deep Periphery
15 July, 3023. 

The Captain of the ship looked out across the vista of stars before him, before lowering his eyes to the planet that spun past well away below his JumpShip, looking like a small grey coin.  The planet, designated CDSISS 00827d, was largely inhospitable, unless one had the resources and bloody mindedness to really want a colony to suffer.  Like many of the planets in many of the systems that his ship and others like it, from both their own fleet and that of their allies, had surveyed, it was worthless.  The only real value to having surveyed the system would be if it was ever required as a supply base.

Seven months the Captain and his ship had been out here.  Seven long lonely months, with just the crew as company.  Four more months until he was home.  Well, not so much home has as in surveyed space.  Home was another six weeks from there.  Despite all that, he was happy for the solitude.  He never really fitted in back at home, never had, never would.  All parties were happy to see him out here, himself included.  Here with his ship and his books, he could while away the hours as the scientists on board took their measurements and did their tests.

He has seen some beautiful sites and seen some terrible accidents in his years in space.  Gleaming nebulae, the results of ancient Super Novas, triple star systems, their planets and stars weaving intricate dances, ships shattered by the effects of space travel and the human losses of those tragedies.

Whether it was all worth it was beyond him, he did not think in those terms.  He was just happy to explore, happy to look about and see what was out there.  Sometimes they met new people, many who had forgotten their origins, some who did not.  The worlds where people were encountered were important.  Many were more than moderately habitable and some were abundant in natural and easily accessible resources.  These were what he was really after, those and the traces.

There were two sets of traces he looked for, for those who passed through and for those who were, like him, looking.  Those who passed through were a curiosity, an important curiosity nevertheless, but still a curiosity.  Those who explored, who looked, were the problem.  His people did not like competition, they dealt with it forcefully.  They also treasured their privacy and their isolation.  That one day would be lost, unless they travelled further afar, but for now, it was his job to make sure the other explorers were not heard from again.