Nadir Jump Point
Inner Surge
Periphery
20 Oct 3059
08:10:00 local time
A bloom of heat in the vacuum of space gave the only warning of an incoming Hyperspace field. 27 seconds later with a burst of electromagnetic energy a small ship emerged into the system, barely larger than a standard Dropship, the vessel looked like a private yacht of some mind bogglingly wealthy inner sphere businessman. The markings on the hull indicated the ship hailed from the Free Worlds League.
Just over 60,000 kilometers from the precision arrival point an armada floated, buzzing with activity as fighters, Dropships and shuttles of every variety moved around and encircled a fleet of warships that would have impressed even the clans.
Silently, almost immediately after arrival, a small personal shuttle emerged from the port bay of the tiny intruder and sailed smoothly toward the center ship in the gathered fleet.
Archon's Dagger (McKenna class Battleship)
Nadir Jump Point
Inner Surge Periphery
20 Oct 3059
08:45:00 local time
The shuttle docked gingerly with a starboard side docking ring three-quarters of the way up the massive warship toward the bow. Docking clamps locked and the safety lights shifted from red to green as the pressure and atmosphere were equalized. The shuttle's sole occupant strode with confidence into the airlock chamber as soon as the shuttle doors opened, depressed the open button on the inner door and came to full salute at the sight of the Officer and 12 armed soldiers standing just on the other side as the doors slide open cross-sectionally.
"Identification," the Officer snapped without returning the salute.
The woman, dressed in civilian clothes fashionable in core-ward planets of the Free Worlds League, reached into the duffel bag she was carrying to retrieve the requested information, causing 12 soldiers to drop into a firing stance without prompting. The woman paid them no heed as she produced the necessary card and presented it to the Officer.
The Officer scanned the card, turned in place and saying as he turned, "Follow me." The security entourage surrounded the woman as they proceeded further into the ship.
Arriving at their destination, the Officer entered a code into the console to the right of the heavy double doors and waited. Minutes passed, no one moving. The woman, despite civilian clothing maintained the same parade field stance as the Officer and soldiers around her. With a snap-hiss the bulk doors opened revealing a massive office suite, dimly lit by point lights highlighting carefully placed priceless objects, each on obsidian black cylindrical columns placed around the room. The Officer waved and he and the woman proceeded into the office alone, marching with formal military precision to the large desk set three-quarters of the way to the back of the room.
A high backed ornate chair stood behind the desk, back to the room and it's newest occupants. Beyond the desk, floor to ceiling "windows" provided a breathtaking view of the gathered fleet and with the planets of the system and the galaxy itself providing a backdrop. Once the two arrived at the desk they stood at attention waiting for the man in the chair to acknowledge them. Slowly the chair turned to reveal John Thomson, uncontested leader of the gathered armada. He wore an expensive, if simple, black suit with clear military influences in the cut, but no insignia. His neat short cut beard and mustache perfectly accented his hard chiseled features. The woman thought the man she knew to be in his late fifties would have looked handsome, if not for his eyes. His dark, almost black, eyes were cold, merciless, like a bird of prey or monster of myth. His gaze, which never wavered, dug deep into the soul of those before him, and promised swift retribution for daring to show any sign of weakness or challenge.
So, this is what characters in fantasy tales felt like when standing before dragons, she mused as she willed herself to remain rooted at military attention never shying away from the penetrating glare.
"Greetings ambassador" Thomson's deep base voice, always smooth and rumbling like distant thunder, another of this impressive leader's many weapons, often causing chills in those around him as the sound echoed in the pristine spartan office.
"Greetings my Lord. I have gifts from our Benefactor." She placed just enough emphasis on gifts and benefactor to convey the unspoken intent, "Given to me personally." The last bit a reminder that he wasn't the only one in the Archon's service to enjoy authority, but not too much as to be an insult.
"Of course, please…" Thomson gestured toward his desk with a wide wave of his hand, indicating four empty display mounts arranged on his personal magnificent black wood rostrum.
With deliberate care the woman removed three wooden boxes, removed the contents of each and placed them carefully on the first three pedestals. A small statue carved in ivory of some cat-like mythical beast, clearly ancient and priceless. A pair of antique hologlasses likely over a thousand years old, also priceless. And a coin, Kuritan from the late 2900s, valuable but little in comparison to the other three. As she finished she returned to parade attention, waiting expectantly.
Thomson removed his watch, a priceless antique time piece in it's own right, and placed it on the fourth and final pedestal. The otherwise plain looking mounts seemed to glow slightly from within, then a holodisplay appeared in the air before him, nearly invisible and completely unreadable from any viewing position other than his. He read calmly, when finished he paused a moment, and looked to the woman, "Do you know the contents?" A simple question. The Officer knew immediately this was the most dangerous kind of question.
"Some, my Lord." The woman responded, "Our Benefactor shared some key elements in the event I was not able to recover all the artifacts before needing to come find you. And one additional piece, action must be taken by February."
"Oh? Why the rush?" Thomson seemed almost amused by the addition.
"The targets have become bold. They are preparing to leave the inner sphere." She added matter-of-factly.
Thomson nodded, then turned to the Officer, "Divide the fleet. I want one unit with a three Cluster Galaxy of clan tech in Smoke Jaguar formation and colors. One unit of two regiments, Kuritan, Sword of Light formation and colors, but provide four full wings of fighter support. The remainder of the fleet will reorganize and prepare to either augment at a moments notice, or provide extraction cover. Both new units should devise separate plans to travel to Schuyler and arrive, faux clan first, with a 5 day lead to allow for grounding and deployment. Execution in the shortest possible window. The remainder of the fleet will go to Nykvarn pirate point 4, on the far outer edge of the system and wait until signalled."
The Officer nodded and immediately started taking notes on his tablet.
"Activate our resource on the Invisible Truth, Morgan's services are no longer required, relieve him of the burden of the Marshal's office before the end of February." He added nodding to the woman, who returned the gesture.
The Officer finished capturing his notes, then looked at his commander, "For preparation purposes, is our objective individual or group; and who should be designated leaders of the new formations?"
"Your still young enough to pass for Clan, albeit an old one, perfect for a second line force, you will lead the faux Jaguars, and I will lead the Kurtian "relief" force myself. Reserve forces will be commanded by Donnaldson." The officer nodded and made the notes, "Oh, and we're off to finally lay our little Napoleon to rest."
That announcement almost dragged a gasp from the Officer, not that it was completely unexpected at some point, but the day had finally arrived. Assassination had been tried on Victor, three of the best had failed just this past January. One of the founding purposes of this battle group was to ensure the Archon's success, with plausible deniability, at any cost. That said, attacking Victor Steiner-Davion directly while he's leading the reformed Star League forces was by far the most direct and open the group has ever been tasked with. Not an unwelcome opportunity.
Thomson turned to regard the young woman again, "I assume that was all?"
"Yes my Lord," she responded crisply, a slight bead of sweat forming on her brow from the effort of containing her composure in Thomson's presences and an unsettled feeling at attending his preparations.
"Then you are dismissed." He said casually. An interesting word in this unit.
"Thank you my Lord." She turned with military precision and exited the office at a pace slightly faster than a normal march would have achieved.
As the doors slid shut, the Officer keyed an entry into his tablet. Inside the well insulated office the sharp rapport of a single shot was barely audible. The Officer looked to Thomson expectedly.
"The hologlasses." He said gesturing, "a dubious early attempt at true holo projection, questionable at best. Her ship's contingency device has been disabled, our systems informed me before she was aboard, a confirmation of questionable loyalties." He finished without further elaboration.
"Shall I recover the asset, " the Officer asked nodding in the general direction of the ambassador's waiting jumpship.
"Bug-Eye's are obsolete for a reason." Was all that was offered.
The Officer began to enter commands into his tablet again.
Suddenly a chime sounded, and an angry red light glared from the Officer's tablet. At his touch a visual comm opened revealing the Dagger's captain, "Commander!" He barked without preamble, "the Arctic Lynx is attempting an unscheduled Jump! Orders?"
Thomson responded before the Officer, "Fire at will! If she makes the jump, order the Inquisitor to hunt her down and destroy that ship Captain, no survivors, no witnesses!"
"Affirmative my Lord!" With a perfunctory nod to the Officer, the comm ended, the roar of the ships main Port-side weapons opening fire before the conversation ended.
Thomson looked briefly annoyed, but the moment passed quicker than a summer's rain, leaving his normally calm demeanour in it's place. "She must have been wearing a bio monitor," was all he said, "We will proceed, you will lead an faux Jaguar assault on Victor's forces on Schuyler, I will arrive masquerading as the Curtain relief forces, with convenient timing for the first time in the DCMS history," he said, smiling slightly at his own rare show of humour, "depending on the actual execution, either your forces will be able to kill him, or I'm afraid it will look for all the universe as if Theodore has decided that Omi's relationship was ill conceived and he's decided to correct the situation." He finished with a genuine smile, that caused a chill and shutter in the Officer he couldn't completely suppress.
To cover his lapse, he asked, "And our old friends from Astrokaszy?" He had been tasked with tracking the old Privateer's since Astrokaszy with the expectation that Thomson himself was planning on hunting down and smashing their old comrades personally.
"Ah, sadly, duty calls, and while I relish the thought of crushing those insignificant bugs myself, the time has come to move beyond the past. Not to elevate young Martius to status beyond his station, but it is time for him to join his parents." Pausing for just a moment, he added, "Send the Jackal. Triple pay if I can celebrate this over Victor's grave before the end of March. Use my personal accounts, at least I'm putting my money toward good work." Thomson considered for a moment and added, "10 times if he can eliminate the entire unit."
The Officer raise an eye-brow, but then keyed the necessary notes and actions into his tablet. A chime sounded again and the Officer opened the vid comm, the Captain looking this time considerably worried, and in this unit with very good reason, "The Lynx made the jump Commander. The Inquisitor is calculating a pursuit now, they'll be jumping as soon as the most probable solution is plotted."
The Officer looked to Thomson, who now looked considerably annoyed, "Proceed. And tell the Captain of the Inquisitor I expect better results than what has just been displayed."
"YES my Lord! They won't get away!" The Captain said, sweat clearly visible on his face as he finished. The Officer closed the comm without adding to the orders.