Chapter 2 Waking Tigers

Drifting somewhere else..

If I let my mind wander, I can leave the confines of the hospital room. Not to travel in space but my memories and thoughts. In the deep of the night as electrodes exercise my muscles, I found myself in one of my favorite places. There are taller buildings in New York, but the Empire State Building is iconic. Concrete, steel and marble built at a time when architects cared about showing the city's grandeur.

Wandering around the observation deck that rings the spire of broadcast antenna and if you believe it an airship dock, although it was never used. The night was cold and crisp and the phalanx of skyscrapers around me reached for the sky like jeweled scepters.

New York is never silent, it is after all the city that never sleeps and the horrors of the occupation couldn't change this. Times Square in the north with its theaters and, restaurants all glitz and glamour, surrounded by the ring of more, shall we say, adult establishments is a blaze of color and sound, Madison Square Garden and Penn Station to the west always a constant hive of activity.

Down by the east river the massive structure of the Bureau of Star League Affairs cup the original United Nations Building like massive fingers rising from the river. To the south the Flatiron, Chelsea the Village with bustled with nightlife.

"So this is your city?"

Startled I turned and found Rachel Miller standing there. Doe eyed with fine blonde hair falling to her shoulders with an impish grin she that hit me with full force. She was dressed for the weather, jeans, boots and a stylish fur rimmed leather parka. There was an ethereal quality about her and when she stepped over to the railing, I realized I could see right through her.

"Yes honey, I'm dead, it makes you kinda transparent."

"Don't worry about it, I always could see right through you." Sorry, couldn't resist.

"Anybody tell you to respect the dead."

"I think it's don't speak ill of the dead and I don't think it counts when they're right in front of you."

"Semantics, but that's not why I'm here."

"I assumed you were my minds way of dealing with me having the shit shot out of me."

She shrugged then.

"No, you've got to deal with that yourself, I'm supposed to get you to embrace your destiny."

I snorted at that.

"Destiny, now I know this is my imagination, that and too many fantasy novels."

Rachel laughed and shook her head.

"Bozo, don't go getting any delusions of grandeur, it's the same destiny every one of us have, you have a life waiting for you, friends, family, that Davion I knew you'd end up with."

She crossed her arms and shook her head.

"And you just languish here."

Puzzled I shook my head.

"I'm not tracking you, Rae, it's not like I can just get up."

Coming from every where at once, a brilliant blue light filled my eyes, Rachel, the city everything fading and I began to fall. Memories of the past few days began to fade and I was desperate to hold on to them. I realized it was a losing battle. From the distance, I heard Rachel's voice.

"Why not?"

Fort Hamilton

North American Administrative District

Terra

Terran Hegemony

22 December 2779

August Martine heard the change in the low hums and beeps from the medical systems in Major Gilmour's room. Nodding at Mike Kelso who sat on the other side of the door. As she rose to enter the room, Mike spoke up.

"Almost forgot August, here."

He handed her a small black jewelry box. Thanking him she went inside recognizing the pitch and tone of the monitors, August wasn't surprised to find the Major already awake. Waving as he looked up at her. The combination of the best traditional and holistic medical training in human space coupled with the highest technology meant SLDF hospitals had a phenomenal ability to heal not just the wounds, injuries and illnesses it's soldiers suffered but to promote a whole body state of health. This meant once he got in their care, Major Gilmour's recovery would be quick.

"How're you doing Major?"

"Okay", his voice was faint but gathering in strength, "what's the word August."

As she filled Major Gilmour in her practiced eye noted he was fully aware, even reaching without a glance for the water pitcher on the night stand to poor himself a glass. Knowing what she would want in his position she let him know Sarah was alive and already discharged, her aunt taking her back to Bruce's house outside Fort Hamilton.

The Major's relief was overwhelming and she gave him a minute to catch up. His next words took her by surprise.

"So Donner's in Asia?"

"How did you…"

He looked just as puzzled as August was, but he shrugged saying he must have heard it while he was out. As they talked she thought; The whereabouts of the guy who ordered the shooting of me and my honey, not to mention one of your mates from the regiment, well that'd be on the top of my priority list, even in a coma.

"Before I forget this is yours." August handed him the box.

"What is this?"

She smiled and rose saying;

"Something special, I'll get the doctor."

As August left I opened the box. A small card lay on top and I opened it. In an elegant handwritten script it read;

Major Bruce Gilmour;

During of your support of the members of Special Armed Service Teams 177,204 and 722 both as BattleMech support, and as a field commander during the actions on Epsilon Eridani, Bryant, New Home, and Terra proved your skill and devotion to Hegemony and League.

The rescue of Major Justine Sinclair showed your devotion to your fellow soldiers.

And finally the restraint shown during the securing of the Court of the Star League showed you possess compassion despite the horrors of the past few years.

By the nomination of Oathmaster Dido Moran and the vote of the SAS council we here by induct you into the Order of the Blackheart. Your duties, to render aid to your fellow Blackhearts, and to comport yourself with the Skill, Devotion and Compassion you have so ably shown.

Heard and witnessed this the 20th day of December 2779 by;

Major General Henry Nelson Armstrong (ret.) Grandmaster, Order of the Blackheart

Sergeant Major Dido Birgitte Moran Oathmaster, Order of the Blackheart

My eyes misted as I read, I had medals including the Medal of Valor that I'd received just after the battle for the Court of the Star League that had made my promotion to Major official. This was different. The small gray Cameron Star with its ebon heart in the center was a vote by your fellow soldiers. It was not an official award, kind of an open secret, but those who wore the heart and star on their collar included both Aaron DeChevalier and the late Don Roberto.

Another member interrupted my reverie. Dr. Samantha Wynndham paused at the doorway a small smile on her face. I set the box aside. Neither of us would mention the small pin, it would appear in my service history I knew, but it was never discussed.

"How are you feeling Major?"

"Pretty good, Doc, considering I thought I was dead."

Checking over the diagnostic readouts above my bed, Samantha gave me a pat on the shoulder.

"Well y'know I couldn't let that girl of yours hang around here depressing my patients."

"How's she doing?"

"Better than you, she's back at your house with her aunt."

"And Kelly?"

"Two doors down, healing nicely, she could use a visit though, tomorrow."

I nodded as Samantha went on;

"I'll be keeping you for two or three more days, just to be sure you're strong enough to go home. You had a nasty infection from the graft we did on your lungs so you'll be on antibiotics for two more weeks. Follow the usual regimen; no alcohol, no strenuous activities and if you even so much as think of returning to duty before February, I'll put you back in the coma.

I smiled at the Doc. And promised to be a good little boy. She turned serious at my little joke and gave me such a look.

"I'm not kidding, I don't need another Justine Sinclair."

I sat up so sharply Samantha took a worried step forward.

"What happened to Justine?"

The Doctor crossed her arms. Her cornrow braids waving as she shook her head.

"The hell do you think happened? A month in the tender mercies of the RimJobs, then she goes charging off to battle. Now I understand those linear frames you Tinmen use to control your machines work better than the older control systems, but you need to be in top shape, Justine wasn't."

A look of disgust passed over her face.

"After all was said and done did Miss Voice of Reason come to see me?"

I started to open my mouth, but Samantha plowed right over anything I might have said.

"No, she did not; instead she goes on a drunken bender and plays bouncy, bouncy with…"

She caught herself and eyed me for a second, but I gave her a knowing grimace and motioned to her to get past it and go on.

"So Superwoman here goes back to duty like nothing happened and in the middle of a briefing, this morning she collapses."

Samantha looked over at the nightstand and the little box, and then back to me.

"Yeah, I'll talk to her too, if she gives you any trouble just guilt trip her with how upset Little Sin'll be if anything happens to her aunt."

"Hell, B it was the first thing I did," she laughed," Why do you think I haven't had to sedate her."

The scene her words conjured up in my head, had me joining her, the laughter felt good, despite the soreness in my ribs and the ache in my chest. Sarah came in then, her hair tousled from sleep and dark rings around her eyes. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

As we got reacquainted, I barely noticed Samantha leaving and August closing the door behind her.

Anchorage, North American Administrative District

Terra

Terran Hegemony

Christmas Day, 2779

The smell of bacon frying in the kitchen made Hank's stomach grumble. Kailey's brothers Martin and Kevin were fussing over the coffee, as he set the table. He was constantly amazed at how quickly he'd assimilated into the Derry family. Part of it was the sheer amount of work. The Derry's owned a small repair yard and two mid size fishing boats.

Heir to the Amaris Empire, MechWarrior, General, Boat Mechanic, some resume I've got.

Solomon Derry came in with a pot of potatoes which he set up in the center of the table. Looking up at Hank the head of the Derry clan asked about Hank's progress on the Derry Star's fuel cells. Falling into shop talk as easily with Sol as he had with his tech going over the General Lee the BattleMech he had once piloted.

"No way are you two are talkin' shop on Christmas!"

Whirling past Hank with two heaping plates of bacon and eggs she layed them down on the table and pecked both men on the cheek.

"You may have noticed, Hank that Kailey actually runs this house." Solomon said with a grin.

"As it should be." Kailey said with a firm nod.

Kevin rolled his eyes.

Solomon sat down to say grace.

"Thank you Lord for this fine meal on this fine Christmas, and we pray for your wisdom in restoring our Hegemony and our Star League."

No nonsense and to the point Solomon's prayer summed up the man himself. Solomon looked up and at this family and at Hank and closed the prayer;

"Amen."

"Amen." Hank answered.

As Kailey rolled her eyes at her father's brevity she looked over at Hank, shrugged and said simply.

"Dig in, and let's eat."

I could get used to this, Hank thought.

In Moscow…

"Welcome my dear, welcome home." Katyusha Kerensky was positively gushing as she hugged Amanda Cameron.

She has good reason, Amanda Cameron thought, the first free Christmas, even Aleksandr looks truly happy.

The only thing that set the warmly decorated house apart from any other in the neighborhood was the presence of a Sinclair Fusiliers security team. Some things never change. Nicolas gave her a quick hug, he'd come through the ordeal they'd shared better than his brother Andery, who waved shyly from the doorway.

The house she'd spent the occupation in seemed an odd place to spend the holidays in but Katyusha was right. It was as much a home as any she'd known, and the people in it were what drew her here. Speaking of which….

Ian came in carrying a batch of presents. He smiled warmly at her and put the wrapped boxes by the tree. Accepting a glass of tea from Nicolas he came over to stand next to Amanda. As the group made small talk, no politics, no war, just family, Amanda thought;

Home is where the heart is after all.

Hong Kong….

Thanks so much George, 'Rat thought, I could be at a perfectly good party, with a particularly great lady. He looked around the hotel room. But nooo, I've got to be half a world away. He looked at the green bar of the lieutenant's insignia in his hands. Oh well, not the present I wanted to be unwrapping but… The promotion had arrived with Dido Moran, he glanced over at the SAS trooper. Shit Di, you should have known no good deed goes unpunished. In the same package had come Didi's own promotion.

Upon opening the package and reading the letter, which she'd been under orders to open only once she'd arrived in Hong Kong, Dido had sat down like she'd been sucker punched. "Rat didn't get her distress, but he guessed everybody had their quirks. Chris had retired to his room earlier, 'Rat was worried about the senior officer, he seemed to be riding an almost manic high.

'Rat's disposable pocketcomp (Tommy had supplied each member of the team with one.) buzzed quietly. When he answered, Elizabeth Hazen grinned that lopsided grin back at him.

"Merry Christmas, Scott", she said.

Ok maybe it's not perfect, but I can deal, he thought.

"Merry Christmas, Liz."

New York….

"Oh for Zeus' sake Sarah, get that off the screen." I growled half seriously. That damn picture from the Star League Court had made the cover of Time magazine. The caption read "What happens now?"

"It's a good picture, Bruce."

"Yeah and half the Hegemony wants my head for sitting on the throne."

Sarah shook her head, smiling.

"No they don't, Konrad Toyama, is not half the Hegemony, he's just creepy."

She flicked the 'net connection off leaving the muted news feed on the screen. As she passed the living room table Sarah grinned down at the boarding passes to Tahiti that were his gift to her. Sinthya was on the couch with Justine. Justine looked up from the game they were playing on the media player Bruce had gotten her, along with an oversized Teddy Bear. The dark haired woman who had become one part big sister, one part best friend raised an eyebrow.

Yeah, I thought, it's time.

"Honey", I said, "C'mere."

Hearing the slightly uneasy note in my voice, Sarah turned and touched my arm looking at me with concern.

"What's wrong, Honey…..oh."

I went down on one knee and held out a small box, yeah that kind.

"Sarah Elizabeth Davion, I really should have asked this sooner but…." My voice caught.

"…..will you marry me."

Her mouth moved but no sound came out.

"Bruce, I think you broke her," Justine quipped.

I couldn't resist; "Crap, I don't think there's any more where this on came from."

Sarah grabbed my ears and pulled me into a kiss.

"First, shut up Bruce Gilmour, and second."

Her eyes welled up.

"Of course I'll marry you, you silly, silly man, and the next time you keep me waiting this long not even Hussy will keep you safe."

I slipped the ring on her finger. The second kiss was even better than the first and Sinthya giggled.

"Oh God you two, get a room." Justine groused.

"Hey", I said, "My house."

"And?"

As I held Sarah my gaze fell on the screen it was displaying of all things Kenyon Marik. The Captain General of the Free Worlds League looked like he had just eaten a cowpie, in other words normal for him. Since there was no way I wanted to be looking that dickhead today, or ever for that matter, I shut the holoscreen down. As Marik's image froze and faded out through the colors of the rainbow, ending on green, Sinthya chimed out;

"Aunt 'Tine that man looks like the Grinch", she giggled.

Justine busted out laughing. I looked at Sarah and we both lost it.

The bitch of it was, she was right.

West Point Military Academy

North America Administrative District, Terra

Terran Hegemony

10 January, 2780

Ian Sinclair watched the battle play out on the holographic map table. The cadet regiment had a combat command of simulated opponents by the throat. A single battalion of assault machines pinned the opposing unit down. Along the flanks fast mediums and heavy hover tanks curled around to strike at the enemy rear.

Across the room the opposition was in disarray. The battle playing out was only the last evolution in the exercise. Over the past three days Ian had watched the Major Bruce Gilmour's handpicked cadets disassemble Colonel Pete Callahan's carefully planned defense.

The entire campaign had been one of deception as the cadets drew their faculty opponents out of position. Callahan's supply depot's had been hit on the second day, followed up by an infiltration strike that had crippled his command and control.

The fevered pitch of the cadet's assault had seen some of the most insane tactics Ian had ever seen. At one point a battalion of BattleMechs had vented coolant in the water supply Callahan's troops were using as a primary water supply. In effect the cadet's had crapped in his water.

Although not fatal, forty 'Mech's worth of coolant in a small lake could lead to stomach and intestinal problems. That was nasty, Major Gilmour, if Commandant Malin hadn't used the same tactic against the Taurians you might have lost some points. Colonel Callahan had protested vehemently when the judges had awarded points for the techniques.

Pete's a good officer and teacher, but he was staff through the Liberation. Plus he's old school, all theory. Peter Callahan had been badly wounded during the early strikes into the Hegemony. He would never pilot a BattleMech again but his keen mind and superb teaching skills had gotten him a position training new recruits. A job he had honed to a fine art.

A light flashed on the top of Ian's holographic display. Colonel Callahan was throwing in the towel. A weary Major Gilmour stood up binding his hair back into a pony tail with a rubber band. Straightening his dress uniform's jacket, black with blood red claw marks on the shoulder, the West Point school rag wrapped around his waist, a crossdraw holster containing an ivory handled Colt hung next to a service cavalry saber, he crossed the room to shake hands with Colonel Callahan.

As Ian walked over, Callahan laughed at something Major Gilmour said. The cadet group milled around the two officers, as they went over a replay of the final battle.

"…almost didn't work, if your cavalry squadrons had gotten in place, I think things would have turned out differently."

"Maybe", the older man said, "but your raids against our supply depots meant half my armor was out of commission."

"That was Cadet Soldano's baby."

The cadet in question looked a bit uncomfortable in the sudden spotlight, and even more so when Ian showed up. Returning the group's salutes he motioned them to continue. The dark haired, athletic cadet explained her plan and its execution.

"Careful Eleanor, I think the Major has his sights set on you."

"She'd be a fine addition to the regiment." Major Gilmour admitted.

Pete Callahan laughed at that.

"So Major, you came here with the sole purpose of corrupting our young cadets for the gain of your regiment."

"I wouldn't put it that way, sir but, yeah I'm headhunting."

Ian winked at Cadet Soldano, who was torn between pride and the sense that her career was being discussed here rather cavalierly. Samuel Winter had requested and received permission of the training command to recruit from West Point directly. They'd been the first to due so with the 35th Royal CAAN and 349th Royal BattleMech (The King Henry Division) doing the same for Sandhurst, while the 146th Royals (The George S. Patton Division) competed with the Tigers at the Point.

Other academies that had survived the coup and began to come online were likewise beset by units that had relationships with them in the past. That Sam Winter had sent Bruce and not his son who had taken over the executive officer's position with the solely organizational rank of Lieutenant Colonel, said something about the recruits he was looking for.

All were unconventional, Cadet Soldano was near the top of the class with a strong analytical mind, while Cadet Arthur Kowalski was somewhere close to being kicked out on the sheer number of demerits he had. The others ranged in between, but all had high marks for teamwork and a willingness to look at even the absurd.

Every thing about Major Gilmour's presentation at the Point seemed designed to speak to that. From the unique dress uniform to the eyepatch and pistol at his hip had attracted attention. The Gunslinger and Blackstar pins on his collar had along with the series of lectures he'd given had sealed the deal. A slick bit of advertising, Sam. Ian thought.

After the review of the exercise came to a close and Colonel Callahan and his Cadets left for the day, Ian sat in one of the chairs ringing the holographic table and motioned for Bruce to stay behind.

"I heard you turned down a position on General DeChevalier's staff, why?" Ian had been surprised, both by the Major's refusal and Aaron's easy acceptance.

"With all that's going on General, I didn't think I could give the job my best effort."

"You've done well here at the Point, a staff position with DeChevalier shouldn't be much different."

Bruce nodded, "I get where your coming from, sir , but by July I may not be in the military any longer."

"Ahh your impending nuptials."

"Yes sir, Sarah will eventually have to take her Ducal seat at Chesterton, the current administrator is too tied to the Green family and in a couple of years Lady Green would be within her rights to press her claim."

"So it's off to the Federated Suns then?"

Looking a little like a lost child playing at being a soldier, Bruce looked up at Ian.

"Yeah, umm yes sir, it's not a bad thing, but being a soldier is all I know, so running off to play country baron, well, honestly it's scarier than assaulting the Unity Line alone in a Stinger.

"If it's any consolation, Chesterton is a hot spot between Liao and Davion, I doubt it'll be a cake walk."

Bruce chuckled wryly.

"Thanks sir, that really puts my mind at ease."

Having put Major Gilmour at ease, Ian pushed on with the question Jerome Blake had been pressuring DeChevalier on for the past couple of weeks.

"What I really came to ask you about, is how much do you know about the hunt for that Donner sassanach."

The other man shrugged, anger warring with duty on his face.

"I'm not in the loop sir, I wouldn't be here if I was."

Well, you want honesty, Ian thought.

"You'd be hunting him with, Major Traumintieri and crew?"

Like a trap door a wall dropped in Bruce's eyes.

"Sir, Major Traumintieri and the rest are on extended Leave…."

Waving his hands in mock surrender, Ian shook his head.

"I know, I know, just let them know they need to nail this bastard quick."

Barking a laugh at the younger man's shock he went on.

"If this drags out much longer the public eye will start asking questions and Jerome Blake is beginning to be a pain."

"Sir?"

"Nothing, Donner has the codes for some DEPCOM funds and technical files that has them going nuts over there, Bruenig set off a virus that pretty much crippled anything those two idiots had a hand in. Blake isn't happy with the BSLA's taking over of the SEP either."

Putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder, Ian looked him directly in the eye and went on.

"Don't worry Major, I told his lackey Toyama, that if you had known Donner's whereabouts then the man would be dead already."

"The world's a bit of a mess, isn't it General."

"Aye", Ian snorted that it is.

They sat contemplating that for a minute then Ian reminded Bruce that General Kerensky would be reviewing West Point at the end of the month and wanted to pick his brain about his prospective in-laws. John Davion would be arriving at the beginning of February and the other lords would be following as the Star League council convened in September or October.

"Good, thing's will finally start to get back to normal, sir"

"You think so?"

"Of course, despite every thing that's happened, once the high and mighty get together and rubber stamp their documents, and make their pretty speeches, Lady Amanda can get about being First Lord and life will go on."

"You make it sound like the Council Lords don't matter" Ian commented somewhat bemused.

"They don't, sir, not now, I mean they're not going to have a choice, the Last Cameron will be confirmed as First Lord and barring anything really stupid the League will prevail."

"And if they choose to do something stupid?"

In a cold calm voice Bruce answered.

"Then we will just have to teach them of the error of their ways, sir do you honestly think the Council will vote any way but how the Defense Force will tell them to, now after all that has happened."

Shaking his head, Bruce brought up a local news feed on the holo projector, showing reconstruction efforts on Carver V, scenes of people striving to recover their lives after years of chaos. The nobility on the faces here, and those Ian had seen during the campaign always reminded him what he was fighting for.

"We owe it to them, General, to let them have a shot at a good life, and if the House Lords get in the way…" He paused then looking over at Ian.

"General, the guns of the Tigers brought down tyranny once, I assure you sir, we wouldn't have any compunction about doing it again."

The conviction in Bruce's voice sent a chill down Ian's spine and as their duties parted them, he realized that he'd be hearing those words in his mind for a very long time to come.

I just hope the House Lords see it Major Gilmour's way, but…

The image of Kenyon Marik rose in his mind.

Sam, you may be right about showmanship.

Linking to his aide, he set in motion an idea he'd been debating for the past couple of days.

"Julia, on that list of to-do's for discussion with the General, add this…"

When Julia Collins, nodded she was ready.

"Have Major Gilmour and the 13th Assault Company of the 90th Heavy Assault handle the meet and greet for both Kenyon Marik's arrival on September 18th and Minoru Kurita's on the 21st "

League Central Coordination and Command

Malkent, Marik

Free Worlds League

16 January, 2780

One thing about life with the Eagle, reflected Force Commander Anton Bucilu, you certainly got your exercise. Walking at his usual pace, which the stocky Bucilu had to half jog to keep up, Kenyon Marik; Captain General of the Free Worlds League, (Oldest of the five major states that had broken away from the smothering embrace of the defunct Terran Alliance.) did everything with a kind of frantic energy. His detractors in Parliament often likened the head of House Marik to a child with attention deficit disorder.

The Captain General's supporters pointed to this almost manic energy as a sign of genius. Anton kept his own opinions to himself. A son of factory workers on Irian, Anton had come a long way in his twenty years of service first in the Marik Militia, then the Marik Guard. He hadn't gotten there by shooting off his mouth.

The other thing you learn is how to multi task, Anton reflected as he quoted the SAFE provided demographic of Amanda Cameron's ascension to the Director Generalship of the Terran Hegemony. Support for the young leader was overwhelmingly broad based. "….It's their cult of personality in the Holy Camerons, even after Richard, the family can do no wrong." Kenyon muttered half to himself, half to Anton.

Forgetting of course that same cult kept the Mariks in power for centuries. Anton thought keeping his face impassive as SAFE director Michael Vizante joined them. The pale, obese, head of the Free Worlds intelligence service was suspicious of everyone, but Anton Bucilu aroused his ire personally. Anyone who rose from a grunt infantry man to officer and aide to the Eagle must be dirty in Vizante's eyes. The man just couldn't conceive of a person rising so far above their station without being born into the web of connections and influence that marked the Nobility.

Anton for his part considered the SAFE director lacking in any social redeeming qualities. Well okay, he is well groomed but could the man be any more unLeague? It was a problem with many of the noble and high corporate citizens of the Free Worlds. Still, even the decadent and broken Hegemony couldn't, to Anton's mind lay claim to a grander legacy of freedom and opportunity than his own League.

At any rate Anton didn't worry much about Michael Vizante, he had enough on the man to have him shot.

"Anton you handled the debrief of General Ioesf Fenrir, what do you make of the man?"

Although surprised at the line of questioning, Anton answered with hardly a pause.

"The man is brilliant, an excellent strategist and field commander, very businesslike."

"So this nuclear bit is nonsense, you think."

"Between the debrief of Fenrir and his Dragoons and information provided by Director Vizante, I would feel secure in confirming the Dragoons did not set off the atomics at Colvannon."

Kenyon glanced at the SAFE director who nodded in agreement.

"Battlerom footage and testimony from the Dragoons indicate the machines that attacked them were of Davion manufacture, second line equipment. Equipment we belive was salvaged by the Capellan Confederation during the hostilities on Demeter in 2760. Equipment listed as "misplaced" by our beloved neighbors. I am sure when the plutonium signature of the fissionables is analyzed it will probably turn out to have been misplaced by the Capellans as well."

Kenyon chuckled then.

"Barbara, Barbara your little games never cease to amuse me."

The Marik looked over his subordinates smugly then.

"This should give Kerensky and the Cameron girl a headache, and could if the right information got into the wrong hands twist Barbie's panties in a bunch…." Kenyon was lost in thought for a moment.

"Make it so, it's not a huge gain, but keeping the Hegemony and the Confederation off balance is worth it." he said coming back to the present. "Michael, you will coordinate this with the Earl of Oceana."

Vizante looked puzzled as he asked, "Oceana has no Earl, my lord, VanBrecht died without issue a month ago."

Kenyon looked at his head of intelligence with a wicked little smile.

"Your standing next to Oceana's Earl Bucilu, Michael."

Both men stood speechless as The Marik placed the signet ring of the Oceana's ruling noble into Anton's hands.

"You'll have to choose your coat of arms Anton, but we'll worry about that later…" Marik blinked. "Oh, for god's sake Anton, you knew I was going to reward you for the work you've done for me over the past seven years, plus you don't have a disloyal bone in your body."

He chuckled then, spearing both aides with a raptor's stare.

"After all, Anton, no good deed goes unpunished…Hah!"

Motioning their dismissal, Marik continued down the hall alone chuckling.

"Oh and Anton?"

"Yes my Lord?"

"Barbie Liao favors that '67 Andurien syrah we just got in, send her a bottle with a note: From Kenyon, for services rendered.

He laughed again.

"Gods above I love being me…"

Hong Kong…..

'Rat dreamed uneasily.

Two days after the Amaris surrender;

The waste processing facility smelled bad, 'Rat had expected this as he swung off the armored personnel carrier with the scout team. The Tigers were part of an effort to check on rumors of a huge prison camp on Vancouver Island, but so far they'd come up short. The Court's primary facility for waste processing was the last major facility shown by aerial survey.

The smell of garbage was there, but underneath there was an underlying something else. Before he could dwell on it more a call from the TACNET brought his attention to a row of standard shipping containers. Troopers from the 3rd MID had opened one. What spilled out reminded 'Rat of the fall of another tyrant more than 900 years ago.

Grainy black and white images didn't compare with the reality. The odor released from the containers made him gag as a mass of humanity stumbled out. Malnourished, unwashed and ill clad for the bad weather the wave of humanity overwhelmed the SLDF troopers. The Major, who 'Rat hadn't seen horrified since the hell of New Home actually paused a moment.

With a stammer in his voice he called in the medical team that was on standby for just this reason. Luckily the 3rd had a MASH set up in the Court, not twenty kilometers away. Turning away, 'Rat watched as the soldiers in the scout team rushed forward with what ever they had at hand. Blankets, food and water and were stunned when 'Rat shouted for them to stop.

"Blankets yes, but they're so malnourished, food could kill them!"

Several of the troopers got ugly looks on their faces, but August Martine came to the rescue.

"He's right, listen up the medics should be here any minute now…"

Her diminutive form, the medics cross on her shoulder and her gentle voice had the desired effect, despite pleas from the prisoners, the rotors of the Medevac VTOLs quickly calmed everyone. As the medics arrived the Major had his crew continue the search. "Rat noticed something. The prisoners eyes kept drifting to the plasma incinerators.

Why?, he thought drifting over to a massive dumping portal. The low rumble of the mechanisms shook the stairwell as he climbed up to the control panel. From the platform 'Rat could see over a large part of the complex. But it wasn't the sight of the dozen or so Angel Medevac choppers or the convoy of ambulances coming up the road that caught his eye. It was a small pale object in the dumping bin.

It was a human arm, seared off at the elbow. All at once he realized what his subconscious already knew. The massive disposal units had been used for centuries to dispose of waste, in return the machines produced both energy and a carbon byproduct useful in paving roads.

Stefan Amaris had used them to dispose of another kind of waste.

"Lieutenant?"

Turning around curiously, he thought; I'm not an officer.

"Lieutenant McKenzie?"

Waking with a start he realized where he was.

Dido Moran gave him a rakish grin and handed him a mug of fresh coffee.

"Wakey, Wakey 'Rat, time to get the bad guys.

Naturally, it's raining, 'Rat thought, right out of any good spy novel.

The slick city street outside Ngov industries had little traffic which was good. The day's food vendors had however left an inevitable patina of grease on the street, combining with the rain to make it ice slick in places. As the four Tigers slipped down an alley, Tommy slipped stifling a cruse as Christian grabbed his arm.

Midway down the alleyway the group paused. A service entrance with a keypad lock was bypassed in seconds by Tommy Lindon. Before opening the door Tommy placed a call to a modem, his pocketcomp uploading a virus designed to spoof the buildings security systems.

Nodding to his companions he stepped back to allow Didi to enter first. Her silenced MP2 swept the corridor. Quietly the team slipped up the stairs, but after a few minutes it became apparent the ten story building was empty.

The top floor was given over to a set of lavish executive suites. These at least had a lived in look, dishes in the sink, the remains of a cigar in one of the ashtrays. Picking up the cigar butt and sniffing it, Didi shook her head.

"Havana, our fugitives live pretty good on old Fat Boy's cash."

Tommy had his pocketcomp unfolded and hooked up to the desk interface, running a crack program. 'Rat kept an eye on the comm terminal built into the kitchen nook. The screen ran a security cam view split between the front door, the freight access, lobby and the air car pad on the roof. Christian rooted carefully through the drawers on closets.

Didi took pictures with her pocketcomp's camera of the cache of id's Christian found in Bruenig's room. Motion from the front door cam caught 'Rat's eye as Tommy folded up his computer and set the desktop back to idle.

"Guys we got trouble."

A group of around nine people had just piled out of a limo in the front. From the way they carried themselves 'Rat knew they were soldiers. Donner and Bruenig followed the group in to the lobby.

"Shit, okay, put this crap back," Didi growled handing Christian the pile of id's.

A quick look around to be sure nothing was out of place and they piled out of the suites slipping into the stairwell just as Donner and his crew stepped out of the elevator. They were talking as they came up the corridor and Tommy slipped a directional mic against the doorway. In their earbuds the team listened in.

"We can get you across the border at Procyon, you'll be safely on Oriente before the end of February."

"Captain Howell on the Severus has worked for us in the past he's real good, We'll get you to Taiwan and you'll ship out from there."

"We'll need protection till then." Donner.

"I'll have a squad with you and another covering you outside."

"My contacts say the Tigers have a team here." Bruenig.

"If they do we'll take them out, If you hear anything more let me know soonest, we ship out in two days."

The Tiger team looked at each other, "SAFE?" Christian mouthed silently.

Using the rudimentary finger speech common among the SLDF, Didi signed "Too many, listen, eyes' on we'll find another opportunity."

Slipping out of the building the way they came and heading out the back after Tommy imaged the cars Donner and his playmates used, the Tigers headed back to their Hotel.

Tahiti

Sun baked Sarah's back as she lay on the beach reading the latest trashy novel by Christina Steiner. The novel was about a fictional 'Mech regiment during the liberation. And yes all the players were there, the veteran commander and his son, the tormented major going through a divorce, and the son of a middle class family who marries into great house royalty. Many of the details were wrong and what Sarah knew of the campaign contradicted Steiner's novel constantly. Plus the fictional heroine was a Steiner. And an absolute milksop.

It was however a delightfully brainless escape. As was this vacation, Bruce's first real leave since the liberation of New York. Two short weeks then back to meet with General Kerensky, a week later Prince John arrives.

We should just elope. She thought.

But Chesterton awaits, and Uncle John would never allow it. She had responsibilities she had been trained all her life to take on. After all she was a Davion and after that damn fool Kent had broken his neck hang gliding on Kestrel, tenth in line for the throne.

But damn it that little house in Brooklyn is beginning to look real good right now.

Sensing a familiar presence behind her she looked up to see her fiancée holding their drinks. A private little smile on his face.

"What's up honey?"

"Just admiring the view."

Putting down the book she turned over and stretched enjoying the way his face lit up. Reaching up she took her drink. The bikini she'd bought on a whim when they'd gotten in was well, not something Aunt Gladys would approve of. She smiled her own private smile.

Collapsing down on the towel next to her he flipped the heavy braid she'd done his long chestnut hair in back over his shoulder. Sipping at his drink he sighed.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Hmm?, oh, just it's nice, first vacation in years, nothing to do."

"Nothing to do?"

He laughed then.

"You know what I mean, no duties, no life or death decisions…"

He grinned down at her.

"Just the stuff we want to do.'

Looking over at the book she was reading he wrinkled his nose.

"Although how you could read that crap."

"Justine gave it to me.. she thought it was cute."

From her bag his pocketcomp chimed. Fishing it out he looked puzzled.

"It's Didi."

Bruce answered the call. Sarah heard the change in his voice. The predator look came over him the one that always gave Sarah a chill. This time she knew the reason.

"Donner?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Yeah, he'll be in Taiwan tomorrow."

"You're going?"

"I…"

"So am I."

"Sarah, let…."

Sarah grabbed him by the back of the hair and kissed him fiercely.

"We do this together."

Celestial Palace, Sian

Capellan Confederation

17 January 2780

.Naturally it is in the best interests of the Confederation that the League government resumes its operation as quickly and painlessly as possible. I and a small staff will take up residence in the Capellan quarter in Unity City no later than 19 September. If you could please advise Director-General Cameron of our arrival in advance of our formal notice, it would be most helpful.

Allow me once again to express our relief and happiness that you survived the recent horrors that vile creature Stefan Amaris so ignobly sewed and our joy at the survival of your family. We look forward to meeting with you on Terra and hope that the fruits of our labors lead to brighter future for us all.

With the highest regard,

Barbara Liao, Duchess of Liao,

Chancellor of the Capellan Confederation

Sitting back in her plush couch Barbara Liao looked over the missive she had just completed before sending it off to the communication center in the Celestial Palace. Curling her feet up on the couch she powered down the thin laptop's holo display and folded the flexible keyboard. Taking a sip of the green hued Chardonnay she'd poured Barbara allowed her self a moment to relax.

For this wine I could almost belive the Davions had a right to exist.

It was apparent the League needed to move forward or it would die, and while that maniac Kenyon Marik or his most high and mighty Minoru-san might look forward to its demise her Confederation relied on the Star League more than she cared to admit publicly. Flipping on the Tri-vid to a canned but uncensored news feed from Terra she watched idly as the entertainment newscasters touched on the upcoming marriage of Sarah Davion and her pet MechWarrior. It amused her that the Terran media spent so much time on the couple but after what the Hegemony had been through any high points must make for welcome news.

The thought of Capella or Sian being subjected to half of what the reports from Earth or New Home had suffered sent a chill down her spine. Setting such thoughts aside she gathered her silk robe around her and picked up Christina Steiner's Crimson Lions. Trashy it was but she caught the parallels, okay, the blatant rip off of the 90th Heavy Assault's battle for New York. Trashy, but even the Capellan Chancellor needed to strip off the reins of the state and be a human being once and a while.

She was deep in the book when a knock came at the door. Checking the security cam on the Tri-vid she smiled and bid her visitor leave to enter.

John Hamilton, colonel of the 1st Kearny Highlanders slipped in. From his deeply tanned skin to his sun bleached hair the big man was Barbara's polar opposite. As she sat up and gathered her robe around demurely around her she caught sight of her self in the mirror.

Thank the gods you just want Barbara the woman and not Barbara the Liao, then again if it weren't for our little game I think you'd be happy forgetting all the titles.

Her image in the mirror smiled warmly back at her. Despite the strain of twenty years as Chancellor she looked barely thirty, let alone her actual forty four. The finest in Star League antiagithics kept it so, her shoulder length black hair dark and thick, and her jade green eyes still had the power to freeze a hardened warrior in fear or arouse their desire. Her first marriage which had produced her two sons, had been purely political. Oh he'd been nice enough and Barbara had a certain amount of affection for him, but his death had been only a small pain.

To find John, who was so completely her match two years later was a blessing.

She patted the love seat and he sat, a little surprised as she cuddled next to him.

"Something's troubling you dear heart."

His deep brown eyes held concern for her, nothing more.

"The upcoming summit, John, nothing more, the idea of being stuck for hours in the room with Kenyon…."

"You'll deal with it, Barbara, with the same grace you deal with every thing else."

"You belive in me John, that's what makes you so dear to me."

"Why wouldn't I?"

She smiled and the two sat for an eternity in silence.

"You win," Barbara said suddenly.

"What?" Confusion reigned over the Highlanders face.

"Marry me."

Kissing her hard, John accepted.

Now if the conference goes as easy as that, the future will be bright indeed she thought.