Davion & Davion (Deceased)

by drakensis

When Prince John Davion dreamed of a distant descendant, he never expected to meet the ghost of that man outside his bathroom the next day. What Hanse Davion has to tell him is a nightmare. Together the two princes, man and ghost, are faced with a nigh-impossible challenge: save the Star League or see billions die in the fires of the Succession Wars.

3. Idealist 3

Avalon City, New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Suns

3 August 2760

Edwina was away that night, having flown to visit her family on their estates halfway around the planet, and John had dismissed his attendants. He and Hanse shared the privacy of a lounge, one wall screen displaying an Italian opera that dated back almost a thousand years. The ghost from the future had commended it to John, who continued not to see the appeal but the sound of it would mask their conversation if someone actually managed to overhear them.

"The rot is too deep, John – it has been for years. Perhaps Simon Cameron could have turned things around but he's dead and his son is a spoiled brat utterly unequal to his responsibilities." Hanse's eyes blazed with determination. "All you can do is salvage as much as possible for the Federated Suns."

"I know your… unique position gives you a perspective that I lack, Hanse, but this isn't your time. You've never lived at peace with your neighbours – no, I'm not blaming you, but it's colouring your thinking. It's thinking the way you describe – putting the Suns ahead of everyone else – that led to the Star League's fall. We could have made it work despite Amaris, but from what you tell me, none of us were willing to be selfless enough to put the League ahead of ourselves."

Relaxing into his chair, John looked at his great-great-great-great-great grandson and met determination with conviction. "I don't know what happened to turn me into someone willing to stand back and let that happen, but I don't want to be that person. If Richard isn't able to set the example that the Star League needs then I should stand up and shame the others into doing so."

"You're at war with one of them."

"True, but that's the situation we're left with. Richard doesn't have to be a brilliant first lord, or even an able one, if we can simply convince him to work with the rest of the Council. Robert Steiner is no fool and Kenyon Marik is hardly an ally of the Capellan Confederation. Their issues with Kerensky are personal – once he's no longer regent, we'll be rid of one of the major sources of tension on the Star League Council."

"That's optimistic. The problems didn't begin with him," Hanse reminded him. "Look at the Hidden Wars – or the way Kurita tried to usurp your throne. Would you work with him for that?"

John hesitated. "It would be difficult for Takiro, but you yourself told me his health is failing. Minoru might be an enemy in your… timeline?"

"As good a term as any."

"Right, but he doesn't have to be an enemy. He's ambitious, but also pragmatic. As long as the Camerons aren't eliminated the prospect of being a power behind the throne is far better for him than breaking the League asunder. If we can work together that's the two largest and most powerful Member States."

The other man shook his head. "I don't think you've got a hope in hell of succeeding, John. I'll help you – it's not as if I have any other options – but I hope this doesn't end up making things worse."

"I'm not talking about neglecting the Suns. After all, if we're going to prop up the Star League then I need us to look as strong as possible. That strength just has to show that we're gaining it from working with the Star League, not against it."

"Then you need to talk to Kerensky. I don't know how he's seen in this era but history casts him as practically the soul of the Star League."

John nodded. "Albion Military Academy is a good example of how the SLDF and a House Military can work together. There are only two other academies outside the Hegemony that do that – both in the Lyran Commonwealth – General Kerensky attended one of them. I'm going to propose expanding Warrior's Hall on New Syrtis into a fully-fledged SLDF academy, one that can help train soldiers side-by-side for the AFFS and SLDF and foster pro-Star League sentiment."

"I see. And you're expecting that the other Lords will see that as something to emulate."

"Probably not until Richard reaches his majority, at least for the Free Worlds League. I can't see Kenyon Marik asking Kerensky for that or accepting it if he offered. But Barbara Liao might – if she's seeing me as a rival then – by God – let's use that. And then Kenyon will see that all his neighbours have SLDF academies and might be persuaded that he could seek the same from the new First Lord."

Hanse chuckled. "I notice you're not including the Combine in that. And you're probably right. But a lot of this hinges on Richard Cameron being reasonable and that isn't likely with Amaris holding his confidence. I agree as far as it goes that the League's chances of survival are better if House Cameron isn't wiped out – such as those chances are – but Amaris is the main threat. To all practical purposes he already has the future First Lord as a puppet and that isn't enough for him."

"Agreed. It's difficult that no one else really sees him as a threat. If you hadn't told me about him I'd have trouble believing he was anything more than the bumpkin he acts like."

"I'm glad we're on the same page." Hanse leant forwards. "So what do you have in mind?"

"If we can tie him to the Periphery's unrest then the rest of the Council will have to act. I've already instructed MilInt to start looking for shipments of military hardware that aren't accounted for by the SLDF or the house militaries." John stabbed his finger down. "Hiding the quantity of equipment you described would be incredibly difficult already. Now that we know what to look for we can -"

"You need to kill him."

The prince looked at Hanse in horror. "You mean assassination? Of one of the Star League Council? That's not a door I want to open!"

"There's nothing sacred about their lives and better one man dies than ten thousand. Or ten million. The one assured way of stopping Amaris is to kill him."

John rose to his feet and stalked to the window. "Setting aside the practical problems with actually carrying that out – which are titanic – it's a certainty that it would be identified as an assassination. Even if there was no evidence at all – just as there wasn't any evidence of Simon's death being anything but an accident – the assumption would be there. The Territorial States would assume that one of the Member States removed him because he was too influential – which would be the truth when you come down to it. He'd be a martyr."

"House Amaris is notorious for its internal power struggles."

"So what?" John thumped the window. "He's from the periphery, we aren't. It's that polarized right now. And the House Lords would suspect largely the same thing, and watch for anyone trying to move into the same circle. Which is exactly what I'm going to be doing – and the same solution will present itself."

"Oh and then there's Richard himself. Who will blame… who? Assuming that whoever is sent isn't traced back to me – and that's a real possibility, I know you have this quasi-infallible MIIO in the future but that doesn't exist yet -"

"Which you'd better do something about."

"Which, yes, is on my list of things to do. But Richard will most likely blame General Kerensky. So we'd end up isolating the First Lord even more, crippling any chance of getting his tolerance and potentially costing us one of the few other pillars of support the League has right now. Do you see why I think it's a terrible idea?"

Hanse nodded. "You're absolutely right. Killing Amaris would be a nightmare even without the moral issues which you carefully didn't mention. But you're the one who wants to save the Star League and as long as the centre of the Star League still exists, simple inertia has a good chance of keeping the Council from disbanding. Stefan Amaris is intent on destroying that centre and right now he has practically all the cards he needs to do that. He's had a decade to get his claws into Richard Cameron and that's not a bond you'll break easily."

"It's too damaging to risk," John told him firmly. "I'll find another way. Besides… Amaris has family. We could kill him and be right back at square one if they take up the same idea. His wife could easily send Stefan's heir Tadeo to Terra to fill his father's place at Richard's side. You know Richard would jump at the chance to mentor his friend's son."

That point seemed to sink in and Hanse nodded grudgingly. "I suppose I didn't give his family very much consideration. Alright, I yield the point. So… going back to the earlier question, what else can you do to strengthen the Star League?"

The prince pursed his lips. "The treasury will howl but I think we'll have to try to undo some of the damage done to the Periphery by the current taxes. I doubt I can get the Council to keep their hands off the funds generated unless Richard supports it, but nine-tenths of the problems in the Periphery stem from the taxes we imposed in '52."

"It has potential," Hanse admitted. "If less of the SLDF needs to go to the Periphery it would certainly complicate the Amaris' coup. But without that income you can't afford to support the AFFS and if you raise your own taxes then you'll hurt the economy."

"I know, but the core of the expansion is done so I can look at cutting back there a little and put it into measures to restrain some of the corporate gouging that goes on there."

"Every little helps. Can I talk you into assassinating Jinjiro Kurita?"

"Absolutely not – do you think I want a war on two fronts?"

Hanse shrugged. "Worth a try. The last thing you need on the Star League Council is a psychotic."

"Minoru has almost forty years ahead of him…"

.o0O0o.

Hellas Mountains, Valexa

Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation

23 September 2760

The road zigzagged up the steep slope in order to present a manageable gradient to ground vehicles. Ignoring the road in order to ascend as directly as possible, Susan scrambled her Dervish up the easier sections, sometimes using the paddle-like hands to stabilise the 'Mech. Where the mountainside didn't serve she used jump-jets to loft the fifty-five ton 'Mech past obstacles.

"Major Barnes is trying to get your attention again," Gav Greaney advised her.

"Yes, I noticed. Shocking lack of radio discipline, he really needs a couple of days leave."

Delta Company, into which the remains of Echo Company had been folded, was made up of Wolverines rather than Dervishes. Conveniently, the two 'Mech designs were of almost identical size and mobility so the company was able to operate together cohesively. Right now long range comms were supposed to be kept offline as the Confederation had managed to launch a replacement satellite network that could pick up on AFFS signals. It was only a matter of time before orbital sorties by the Navy's fighters would take them out, but at the moment it gave the enemy an advantage.

"Major's gonna chew you out, again."

"Shut up Smythe."

"Shutting up," the woman affirmed – although how long that would last was as open to doubt as the timeframe for the Navy to clear the satellites.

"Thing is, she's not wrong. Technically this is an unauthorised sortie. You could almost say we're absent without leave."

"Firebase commanders have authority to carry out short-term operations at their discretion and the 86th are inside our operational radius."

"It's kind of stretching a point to say you were the firebase commander, captain. The Major was only taking a nap."

"He needs all the sleep he can get, Gav. And he left me in charge of the battalion until he woke up."

"Just wanted to point out that he used the words 'summary' 'court' and 'martial' in his last transmission."

Susan fired her jump-jets again. "Well he might get two of those together, but I really don't think 'Wang' Dixon will be signing off on any summary judgements. If I'm court martialled he'd want every I dotted and every T crossed."

"Benefit of being a Duke's daughter?"

"I don't like taking too much advantage of it, but if it means we can relieve the 86th then I don't mind making an exception."

As they reached the top of the ridge, Susan's sensors started painting heat signatures. Fires were blazing in the barns of the sprawling cattle station that the 86th Light Infantry had been based out of, down in the broad valley beyond. Amid the smoke and fires she could see bipedal figures far too large to be infantrymen.

"I've a partial ID," Smythe reported, breaking the silence as the other ten 'Mechs of Delta Company caught up. "Bug 'Mech, I'd say ninety-five percent chance it's a Wasp."

"And the other five percent?"

"Stinger with a Wasp cockpit assembly – there have been some patch-jobs sighted."

"It doesn't make a huge difference then." Susan adjusted her radio to the frequency she'd picked up the infantry request for assistance on. Breaking radio silence could have been a judgement by the regiment's command team that the Capellans must already know their location if they were under attack. Or it could have been a fake signal intended to draw out AFFS 'Mechs to ambush them.

Having stayed in touch with Sergeant – now Lieutenant – Watsuki and his unit, Susan was fairly sure she'd recognised the radio operator's voice. That cut the odds of an ambush to around one in five by her best guess. Acceptable odds.

"86th Infantry, this is Delta of the Second Cuirassiers. We're moving to your support," she advised via a low strength signal that the satellites should hopefully miss. Of course, the Liao 'Mechs in the area would also detect it, if not necessarily decode it. But knowing reinforcements had arrived should warn them off, which would be almost as good as destroying them.

"Roger that, Delta. We've got fire teams in the buildings and the drainage ditch." The voice of the colonel was relieved. "We took down two 'Mechs but there are at least ten more and a lance of missile carriers backing them up."

"Understood, we're on the way."

Susan switched back to Delta's internal comms. "Move in. We're looking at a company of light 'Mechs and a lance of missile carriers – Greaney, hold your lance back to deal with the carriers." Missile carriers were little more than tracked turrets, but they could deliver an awesome amount of firepower from the missile launchers in those turrets. They were lightly armoured though and with four Dervishes, Greaney's lance should be enough to take them out quickly.

As the company descended the slope, they dispersed and Greaney held his group back to form a second line behind Longknife's four Wolverines and Susan's command lance, which was one 'Mech down.

"I think they're pulling back to the buildings," Smythe reported.

That made sense to Susan. "Keep moving, they'll probably take us under fire with the missile carriers to draw us into the buildings and their range."

Sure enough, as they came within half a kilometre of the cattle station the arching contrails of LRMs rose from behind one of the buildings – obvious due to their sheer number if nothing else.

The salvo had been concentrated on Longknife's lance and the four 'Mechs scattered, trying to avoid taking the concentrated barrage. Susan lost sight of them momentarily but all four of the magnetic signatures of the 'Mechs kept moving so she didn't think they'd been taken out.

Behind her, she saw Greaney's lance briefly halt, the covers of their missile launchers opening. A return salvo burst up into the air and then the Dervishes resumed movement.

Then the first Wasps came into view, popping out to fire on Susan with their lasers as she crossed the quarter kilometre mark.

She had lasers of her own though, as well as SRMs. Her first target ducked back behind the cover of tin-walled building but she fired anyway – the lasers punched right through the light metal and four SRMs converted it to scrap, exposing the Wasp. A Wolverine's autocannon bit deep into the light 'Mech's chest and its pilot fired his jump jets to bound back behind more substantial cover.

Alone the Wasps could have outrun her relief force but in addition to giving them more firepower the missile carriers mired them, for they were far slower.

Rounding the first line of buildings Susan saw that one of the missile carriers had blown up, the turret upended several yards from the tracks. One of the others turned its own turrets towards her, no less than sixty missile tubes on the low-slung turret, as the other two vehicles backed away, tracks digging into the dirt and gravel of the roadway.

Keeping the Dervish's chest-mounted LRM tubes closed, she rushed the carrier, firing just before it did. Her lasers bit into the forward glacis of the hull but her SRMs were lost in the smoke as the missile load was fired directly into her.

Fortunately, Susan was inside the arming distance of the long range missiles – while the impacts staggered her and one missile starred the armoured glass of her cockpit, the damage was far less than it would have been if the warheads had gone off. Lurching through the smoke of the missile fire, she braced the Dervish's weight on one foot and then crashed the other into the damaged frontal armour. Plating buckled and the missile carrier's hatches popped open, crewmen fleeing. Gunfire from the next row of buildings cut two of the men down, a third reaching cover behind a stack of crates and cowering behind the shelter, clearly disinclined to continue the fight.

Longknife's lance appeared on the other flank of the missile carriers and the two remaining vehicles came apart in the crossfire of the seven 'Mechs. Although their armour was scored and paintwork a wreck, Susan was pleased to see that the other lance hadn't taken any losses.

Checking for any further sign of the Wasps she spotted the turret of the first missile carrier destroyed, the one likely destroyed in the initial salvo from Greaney. The launchers were a different style from those of the other three and despite the heat of her cockpit she shivered. That one had carried short-range missile launchers – if it had survived then her close assault would have exposed her to a swarm of larger warheads that would have smashed her Dervish flat.

I think that was all my luck for today, she decided. Better to be more cautious in the future. "Don't get split up," she ordered. "Greaney, the carriers here are out but there could be more. Move up and join us, we'll clear the site systematically."

"Won't that mean the Capellans can get away?"

"If they run then that's good enough for me. We're just here to relieve the place, not to try to rack up kill markings like those morons in the Eighth Fusiliers." She'd seen some of the Falcon light 'Mechs in that regiment swaggering around with carefully painted rings around their arms to signify claimed defeats over Liao 'Mechs and armoured vehicles. There was some complex system of claiming victories and what each ring meant but all she'd taken away from that was that if she were to have been fighting against the Fusiliers she'd have made the 'Mechs with the most rings priority targets.

.o0O0o.

Avalon City, New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Suns

16 October 2760

"I'm glad we've been able to come to an agreement." John shook hands with Erskine Cobb, the moment immortalised on holo-camera.

Over the next week or so this would appear as a minor note in the news media of hundreds of worlds and probably as a headline on Kathil. As CEO of General Motors, Cobb was one of the major movers and shakers in the Capellan March and its main manufacturing plants were located on Kathil. The deal that John had just signed off on would direct hundreds of millions of Star League dollars from the military budget to Motors, almost doubling their share of the lucrative military market.

"It's been a genuine pleasure," Cobb replied with apparent sincerity. "The SLDF turning the Blackjack down could have cost us dearly. It's a pleasure to have the support of House Davion."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they reconsider after they see it in action with our regiments on the border. Your corporation has always provided quality products and I don't see any reason to expect anything less."

There was as much show as substance to that comment, but John could at least honestly say he had personal experience of one General Motors' product: his personal 'Mech was a Marauder, one of the most respected heavy 'Mechs around and had been built by GM on Kathil.

Cobb released his hand. "Their loss, your gain."

"When the Star League loses, we all do. But I'm glad to be able to step in where they didn't."

An aide ushered the business magnate out and John submitted to a quick brush down of his jacket by another attendant before heading back to his desk for his next meeting. "I hope the Blackjack is everything you told me," he said in the brief moment of privacy he had.

"It just had bad press," Hanse told him. "I don't know where the rumours about it began but it's a good, reliable 'Mech. Not a showboat, but exactly the sort of workhorse you want on the frontlines."

Owen opened the door. "Sire, Perry Lycomb of Lycomb Technologies."

"Of course." John rose and greeted the man with warmth. "I've been looking forwards to meeting you."

"I feel the same way, your highness." Lycomb shook his hand firmly. "I hope we can resolve the recent… disagreements that have arisen since May."

"It was a terrible blow, seeing you targeted by terrorism like that." John returned to his seat. "I understand the AFFS has offered to split costs for reconstruction with you. Those were certainly my instructions."

Perry accepted the seat in front of John and Owen retreated. The businessman took a deep breath. "The offer's been made, your highness and in many respects its very generous… but there are certain conditions that make us hesitant to accept the proposal."

"He's not going for it," Hanse concluded.

With more practise, John avoided looking at his invisible advisor. "Would this be to do with the security concerns?"

"We have a great deal of investment – time, money and tradition – on Demeter." Lycomb spread his hands. "Our workers are a community, almost an extended family. To ask them all to uproot from their homes and re-establish themselves halfway across the Inner Sphere… it's just too much to do."

"I can see your point of view, but really wouldn't this be an investment in their safety – and that of their families? The Federated Suns has quite literally gone to war over the injury to Lycomb and while there's been no further incidents on Demeter itself there's no guarantee that the fighting couldn't spread."

The magnate nodded. "It's much on my mind and we've had to hire additional security already for our remaining production facilities but the other factor is that moving our factories deeper inside the Suns could cost us some very important contracts."

John raised an eyebrow. "You mean with the SLDF?"

"Quite." Lycomb spread his hands. "We're not just close to the Capellan Confederation on Demeter. While we're bound by confidentiality as to the details, it can't be a secret that the bulk of our production goes to the SLDF. It's quite a coup to work with some of their cutting edge equipment and very few firms outside the Hegemony get the chance. If SLDF procurement felt that we were potentially open to… well, I don't want to imply that you would be involved…"

"They'd think that my government was using you as a conduit to get hold of classified SLDF equipment."

"Exactly! Even the perception could cost us heavily and since we won't be assembling new Awesomes for some time to come we'll depending on selling components for them and our aerospace division to remain solvent. Losing SLDF contracts – or worse, facing litigation – could destroy Lycomb."

The prince turned his chair slightly. "Damaging relations with the SLDF certainly isn't something I'd approve of, I can assure you of that. On the other hand, our policy of ensuring our sources of military hardware are from secure sources is built to a great extent on the dangers exposed by the damage done to your factories. Making an exception for Lycomb would difficult to justify."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Lycomb answered, face solemn. "In that case I suppose we'll have to find the money for reconstruction without your offer. I regret that we're both in positions that we can't find a compromise."

"It's unfortunate, and I'll see if we might be able to find something else that we can offer that wouldn't offend the SLDF." John pushed his chair back. "Lycomb's been good to the AFFS over the years and House Davion will not forget that."

"In that case, your highness, I can assure you that I'll be very pleased to consider any other proposals from the AFFS. I'm glad that we've at least now got a better understanding of what we're each hoping for."

"Absolutely," John agreed and the two men shook hands again before Lycomb left.

"We're going to need those heavy fighters, John. In fact, you need more fighters in general. Besides the Stuka the only other design being built in the Suns is the Centurion, you're importing everything else."

John nodded. "We'll have to see how amenable they are to setting up an alternate facility. In the meantime maybe we can work something out with Boeing Interstellar. They're already constructing a shipyard at Galax, which is certainly secure enough."

"I didn't know they were in the fighter market," Hanse said in surprise. "Federated-Boeing were a standby of our dropship and jumpship production but they were focused on that."

"I'm glad to know there are some gaps in your knowledge," John said frankly. "They build the Hammerhead – which is pretty much reserved for militia use in the Terran Hegemony given the age but it's a heavy airframe and not so advanced that building it in the Suns would upset the SLDF."

"I can't say I know the name." The ghost made a face. "Probably it was another of those things we lost in the Succession Wars. Is it any good?"

John spread his hands. "I'm not a pilot. The navy would rather have more Stukas or Thunderbirds, but if we can't get them then the Hammerhead would be better than nothing."

.o0O0o.

High Orbit, Valexa

Sarna Commonality, Capellan Confederation

2 November 2760

At least the crew seemed to know what they were doing, Susan thought as she watched her 'Mech move without her. The dropship that had lifted her to orbit would have to return for the other half of the Second Cuirassiers. Fortunately FSS Markesan was a dedicated transport with a dedicated 'Mech deck that could accommodate a battalion of BattleMechs.

Right now her battered Dervish was locked into a transport cradle that would be guided on rails out the hatch and across the ship.

"Major," a clipped voice offered from behind her. "Welcome aboard."

It took Susan a moment to realise she was the one being greeted. Turning she saw a short, trim officer with a Leftenant Colonel's two narrow stripes on his uniform epaulettes. Light Commodore was the naval equivalent she recalled and saluted him. "Sir. And it's just Captain. I'm only provisionally in charge of the battalion."

The corner of the man's lips twitched in amusement. "Courtesy promotion, major. It's a naval tradition that there's only one captain on a ship."

Her face coloured. "Sorry, sir. Protocol's… slipped a little down there."

"That I can understand – and between you and me, it's caused the Department of the Army and Navy no end of issues over the years." The twitch disappeared. "Part of the problem being that they think they can get the tradition to change when those are usually less flexible than regulation. I'm Markesan's captain, Ken Jones."

"Susan Sandoval."

He nodded. "So I heard. Any relation to the Duke?"

"He's my father." Susan shrugged slightly. "Don't put too much weight on the relationship – he wanted me to take a post in the Draconis March so he could keep an eye out for me, I came to the Capellan March because I don't want that attention."

"That's very laudable, major." She got the impression that Jones wasn't being entirely sincere but she'd more or less got used to those reactions. "I'm afraid I'm not just here to greet you though. If I can persuade you to leave your 'Mechs to my crew – they're very good, I promise – then we do actually have some business to take care of."

"Of course, sir," she agreed quizzically.

"Wonderful." He held the hatch for her in a gentlemanly fashion, ushering her across the dividing line between the dropship and FSS Markesan. "I gather you had a field promotion down there?"

"Yes sir, I had a lance when we landed." Susan raised her chin in challenge. Six months wasn't long to go from leading four 'Mechs to almost forty but she wasn't going to be put off just because naval promotions tended to be slower.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to be the one to break it to you that paperwork increases geometrically in relation to the number of people under your command." Jones led her to what she recognised as an axial lift, the pair of them moving from handgrip to handgrip in micro-gravity. "In this case, my medical officer is nigh hysterical as your troops weren't up to date on their inoculations."

The brief acceleration of the lift pressed Susan's feet against the floor for a moment. "We've had to prioritise and battlefield injuries tend to be more urgent."

"You've nothing to justify to me. Unfortunately, the paper-pushers will have their due. We have all the necessary vaccines and whatnot aboard, but those are naval medical supplies and you're from the BattleMech corps so you're supposed to be getting this from your own medical service."

Susan blinked. "Pardon me, Commodore, but do I understand that my people aren't to receive the inoculations until we reach Goshen?"

"Oh nothing of the kind. We've already started on it, but unless we get your signature on the paperwork authorising the naval service to bill the BattleMech corps for it, well…" Jones shrugged wryly, "I'm not saying that the paper-pushers would court martial the two of us and my medical officer because they hadn't been able to move some electrons around in the budget, but no one needs 'suspected financial peculation' on their permanent file."

She groaned and leant back against the lift wall. "And I thought we were just fighting the Capellans."

"I'm sorry I have to disillusion you." Exiting the lift, the naval officer directed her towards a cramped compartment she realised must be the warship's administrative officers. "However, now that you're verging on being a field-grade officer you'll have to get used to the idea that the AFFS is invariably, if informally, at war with the civilian arms of the government and engaged in a civil war between all internal factions. I'm continually amazed we ever find time to fight the Capellans or Draconians."

"May God help us if we ever have to fight both."

"There is at least the hope that they may be just as confused as we are."

At least electronic forms meant not having to mess around with pen and paper in microgravity. Jones called up the necessary documents on a workstation and answered Susan's questions as she worked through them, signing in the required boxes with an electronic stylus.

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from your duties?" she asked. Didn't the Markesan's commanding officer have anything else to do but shepherd a temporary battalion commander through admin duties? There were Capellan ships in the system after all.

He pointed at one bulkhead. "We're only three metres from the Combat Information Centre. If a crisis arises I'm available. Meanwhile my deck officers get the useful, if nerve-wracking, experience of being responsible for the ship on the frontlines, or as close as the naval side of things goes. I'm not too worried about anything happening while we're in orbit, honestly. As far as the Capellans are concerned, if they blow us up right now then in the best case there'll be shrapnel in orbit of Valexa for decades – and at worst the wreck could land as a single mass… that would be messy. No, if they try for an interception it'll probably be near the jump points."

"How very reassuring."

"The odds are about fifty-fifty that we'll run into someone. Since we were missed coming here with the Hussars, maybe we'll see more action on departure."

The little man seemed quite matter of fact about it, Susan thought. Then again, was it really any different from the situation on the ground? This was his battlefield and she'd have to assume he knew what he was doing, just as she did with other AFFS units on the ground.

Then again, Balbadd had taught her to take assurances with a pinch of salt. At least Jones' nonchalance was a change from the sometimes colourful displays of confidence she'd encountered from fellow Mechwarriors.

.o0O0o.

Sidebar: Kearney-Fuchida

"It was a little like buses. Nothing for ages and then two came along at once."

The fundamental basis of interstellar transportation and communication lies in hyperspace physics, a field first theorised in the early twentieth century by Doctors Kearny and Fuchida in a series of joint papers. Practical application of their work didn't result for almost a century until two universities independently produced results strongly suggesting that a circumvention of the limits of the speed of light might be possible after all.

The Terran Alliance Ship Pathfinder was the first starship, built at extreme expense to take man to the stars and it succeeded spectacularly, leaping from one star system to another in a split second. While the energy demands required long waits between such jumps, Mankind was primed and ready to leave the crowded Terra, yet the terraforming of Mars and Venus had been long term projects that couldn't release this tension. Within only a few years the colony of New Earth was founded and many more followed.

The range of jumps increased as the science was refined and by the twenty-eighth century, the standard for modern vessels was thirty light years. In addition, integrating both a jump-core and in-system drives fell out of practise in favour of larger but cheaper jump drives with minimal crew quarters, equipped to recharge via vast solar sails instead of fusion reactors. These jumpships or boomers would then carry external payloads of dropships from system to system, with the dropships carrying cargos from the surface to jumpships that never needed to approach the planets they served.

The second application of hyper-physics waited for the Star League to discover. While jumpships could only operate in areas of effectively no gravity, millions of kilometres from planets or stars, it was discovered that microscopic jump transits could be created, repeatedly, to permit microwave transmissions through the effect.

Within decades this Hyperpulse technology cut message times across the Inner Sphere by half – far more than that in emergencies when extraordinary resources were authorised for reasons such as the convenience of the Star Lords. The entire industry of courier jumpships that had once served the interstellar states was rendered obsolete, almost overnight.

Kearny and Fuchida, scientists decades before their time, received the usual rewards. Driven out of the scientific community by the derision of their peers, both men died in poverty.