Foreword

Hi there. This is my first story submission here, although I actually wrote it around 4 years ago. It is nearly all my own work, although the Outer Colonies (another Battletech "fan faction") make an appearance, courtesy of JA Baker, whose work you may be familiar with. All OC characters and units mentioned are of his creation...thanks JA! The Royalist Alliance and some of its characters also feature, courtesy of James "Biggles" Taplin.

For a number of years, we used to frequent a Battletech message board called the HPG Uplink, which sadly went off-line in April this year. During that time, apart from participating in dogpiles and swapping insults with the other posters, we wrote fanfics, which were generally well received. A couple of years ago, we came up with the idea of creating our own factions, as we were unhappy at the direction the Battletech universe was heading (i.e. the Dark Age). In the process we wrote more stories and began co-operating on some. This story and it's sequel are the result of that.

Royal Brighton & Hove Golf Course,

Sussex,

Britannia,

Britannic Coalition, The Periphery,

7th August 3068

The persistent ringing of his personal com unit distracted Regent William Sandringham from his tee-off. With a sigh of annoyance, he plucked the unit from his belt with his free hand; on seeing the caller's ID code, his eyes widened in surprise and apprehension. Apologising to his playing partners, he excused himself and strode briskly from the fairway, his seven-iron tucked under one arm. When he was sure he was far away enough for privacy, he punched the button to answer the call. On the small display screen appeared the worried face of Prince Maxwell D'Avion, ruler of the neighbouring Royalist Alliance. Apparently, his friend had decided to pay him an unscheduled visit and William was keen to find out why.

"Will, thank god! I was beginning to think you weren't going to answer".

"Max, what the hell are you doing here…and why didn't I know about it in advance?"

"Sorry Will, but my head of security insisted that my visit should be strictly covert…a black ops type of thing. If the wrong people back home knew about it, they could use it to stir up even more trouble. I contacted your offices as soon as we arrived in system, explained our situation and the reason for our being here and they agreed to keep it quiet. As far as anyone knows, I'm just a junior diplomat, visiting some of your advisors and catching up on palace gossip".

"Well, someone from my office is going to get a rocket up their backsides for not informing me of your arrival", said William, still slightly peeved.

Maxwell D'Avion's face was a picture of contrition, "My fault again, I'm afraid Will. Or rather the fault of my chief of security…I think he's even more paranoid than I am, lately".

Sandringham's expression was one of amusement, "Well, that's what you pay him for, isn't it?"

The other man nodded ruefully, "He didn't want anyone outside your personal staff alerted to my presence, by formal announcements or any unusual actions on your part…sudden changes in your schedule – that sort of thing. We decided we would be less likely to attract unwanted attention with a personal call, while you were out of the palace".

William glanced quickly round the course. Apart from his group, there were few other players around and no-one seemed to be paying him any attention.

"Well, congratulations, your plan worked perfectly".

"I'd have been very disappointed had it been otherwise, given the amount of trouble we went to. I hope my arrival hasn't come at a bad time, but I'm really not sure who else I can trust right now…"

William pulled a face and waved his club at the camera built into his com unit. "Well, since you undoubtedly checked my schedule with my PA before you called, you'll know where I am and what I'm doing. You just distracted me from a very important tee-off at the 17th that could decide the outcome of the game, but other than that, nothing major".

Max rolled his eyes. "Hope you haven't got too much staked on the game, because what I'm about to say might ruin your putting. You remember what we spoke about, during your last visit?"

William's demeanour instantly became more sober. "Of course…you still haven't found the source of those leaks?"

Max sighed heavily and shook his head. "RIS have their best officers on the case, but so far…nothing. Whoever it is, they're doing a damn good job of covering their tracks".

"What can I do to help?"

Max leaned forward over his desk until his face almost filled the screen. "Are you alone right now? Can anyone hear us?"

William glanced across at the others, who'd clustered around the cart carrying the drinks and snacks. They paid him no attention whatsoever. "Its okay Max, we can talk".

Maxwell closed his eyes, as if hoping his problems would disappear along with his vision. "You remember I told you about the trouble the Ministry of Defence were having with some of our less reliable units? Well, it seems to be getting worse. Not only are some of them refusing orders, but some are actually going rogue and carrying out raids…on the people they're supposed to be protecting! Their grievances I can sympathise with, but their actions are totally indefensible. I would like nothing more than to be able to give them what they're due…and more, but we're facing difficult times, as you're probably aware..."

"Us too…and pretty much the rest of the Periphery, if the reports I'm seeing are at all accurate", Will nodded in sympathy.

"As if that weren't bad enough, my chief of staff is seriously considering deploying the few Regiments who remain unquestionably loyal, to deal with the turncoats. I have to say, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to argue with him".

Sandringham shook his head, "I hope I never have to make such a decision, but I'm sure whatever you do will be for the right reasons".

"Business with the Lyrans, our principal trading partner has all but dried up. Inevitably, we've had to cut government spending…including the Ministry of Defence budget. Because of the time they've taken to re-allocate their funds, many units have been receiving their pay late…in some cases not at all. Add to that rising rates of equipment failure and a lack of replacements, because they can't afford the maintenance and most people would call that sufficient reason for dissent in the ranks. Now, to cap it all, they've got our intel services going through their bases with a fine-tooth comb, looking for "traitors to the Alliance". That was probably the straw that broke the camel's back. Before that, the trouble was limited to protests, dissent, petty theft and vandalism. Now sections of the civilian populace are starting to take sides on these issues. I don't want to sound melodramatic, but I think we're on the verge of a civil war".

D'Avion leaned back in his chair and stared at his desk. "In a nutshell, the Alliance armed forces are in turmoil right now. We'd be hard pressed to defend ourselves against anyone who fancied a piece of us, never mind exploring to look for new resources".

Sandringham smiled at his friend's language to describe the planned raid on Gilfillian's Gold, a mineral-rich world on the edge of the Rim Collection, a small state, comprising half a dozen worlds, which lay less than a hundred light years, spinward of the Alliance. With a small population, little advanced technology and only a token military force, the Regent could see why it presented such a tempting target. Although highly unethical, it would be a quick and easy way to boost the Alliance's flagging economy…one of the few remaining options, once normal trade revenue streams had dried up. At least on a world as sparsely populated as Gilfillian's Gold, the consequences of such action were unlikely to be far-reaching.

"Well, I suppose you'll just have to put your search for new wealth on hold for a little while".

"If only it were that simple Will. Recon flights by our navy have picked up increased activity on The Rack and Pain". He stared into the camera again. "RIS uncovered evidence that details of our operational plans have been leaked. Now we're learning through naval com intercepts that the pirates that hide out on those rocks are planning strikes on a number of our border worlds. I'm guessing they don't like the idea of us muscling in on their territory".

"What in Blake's name…? Sounds like you could have a number of moles, spread throughout your command structure…perhaps even a cell of enemy agents".

"That's one of the theories we're working on at the moment…it's the one that bears closest scrutiny so far. If correct, it's going to make our task harder by several orders of magnitude".

"Not necessarily…if you can nab one, you may be able to "persuade" them to reveal the others. Have your people got any likely suspects…psych profiles…motives…?"

Max spread his arms helplessly. "We've got all our intel and police agencies going over unit rosters, personnel files and piecing together every shred of evidence we've got…which isn't much. Every alley we've run up so far has come to a dead end."

"Sorry to hear that…what can we do to help?"

"Well, I probably shouldn't ask, but I can't see any other options. I was wondering, what shape is the BCAF in at the moment?"

That got a laugh. "Well, pretty good I suppose, for a military that's yet to fight more than the odd border skirmish".

The Prince looked so crestfallen that Sandringham felt obliged to cheer him up. "On the other hand, I've been receiving excellent reports from Precentor-Commander Jackson about the Britannia Guards. Our mercenary friends have been working with them, over the last year or so, to develop their strategy, tactics and general battlefield awareness. They're a strange lot, these Coyote Cavaliers, but their liaison, Captain Jerricho, has been quoted as saying the Guards' performance is 'adequate'". William chuckled. "Apparently, coming from her, that's high praise".

"Does your chief of staff feel they would be up to a long distance deployment?"

"I don't know. I'll have Jackson speak to the Guard's commander. If he's satisfied with their progress, I don't see why he wouldn't authorise their deployment. How does a full combined arms Division, with warship support sound?"

"Right now – I'll take whatever I can get", D'Avion replied, managing to look both relieved and embarrassed at the same time. "Normally, pirate attacks wouldn't be anything to worry about, but right now, I can't be sure if the units we sent to deal with them would end up defecting, going rogue or simply disappearing".

"Okay, I'll start making some enquiries at this end. It would speed things up a lot if our troops could cut through Alliance space. If you could arrange…"

"Already on it, Will. Unless you hear otherwise, from me personally, in the next few days, my chief of staff will contacts yours with a list of systems, jump points, recharge times etc. in the next week or so".

The ruler of the Royalist Alliance stared solemnly up at the Regent from the com unit's view screen. Thanks William. If there's ever anything…"

"Don't worry", William smiled as he cut him off. "I'm sure an opportunity to return the favour will present itself in due course". He waved his golf club again. "Right…got a game to finish or else my Chancellor and Home Secretary stand to win five hundred C-bills. Should be done in half an hour or so…where are you?"

"Your staff put me up in one of the guest suites at the palace…very nice it is too".

"Okay, I'll meet up with you as soon as I'm through fleecing my Chancellor and Home Secretary".

Prince Maxwell D'Avion just shook his head as he cut the link, "Have a good one Will".