Avalon City, New Avalon

Crucis March, Federated Suns

19 October 2772

John waited for confirmation from the HPG station that Kerensky wasn't trying to continue the brief conversation and then walked to the windows of his office and stared out over the lights of Avalon City, far below.

"You said he fought a slow and methodical campaign," he said out loud. "And yet he was just about to storm Terra, bypassing dozens of worlds in the Hegemony. What's changed?"

"Quite a lot's changed." Among the few pleasures left to Hanse was sleep and he'd been indulging in the small bedroom attached to John's office – somewhere John's uncle and predecessor had used when he'd been working late and didn't want to disturb his wife by returning to their bed in the small hours of the morning - but the ghost didn't seem perturbed by being woken in the middle of the night. "In my history Kerensky was only just beginning to fight for the Hegemony by now."

John shuddered. "Given how much stronger Amaris' forces are now than they were when we first entered the Hegemony, I hate to think how much worse the fighting would have been."

"I think…" Hanse considered. "As I recall one of the reasons Kerensky gave for striking at the Republic's own worlds first was to let his troops recover from the shock. He claimed he was afraid that they'd be so furious that they'd fight recklessly and take heavy losses in their eagerness."

"I wouldn't say that that was really the case with the soldiers we led – those from Second Army or Army Group Eleven later on. They were angry, but they also had months to process what had happened."

"No, but we all view other people through our own… prejudices really." The redhead leant forwards. "I think that the anger he was describing was his own. He's a very controlled man, but if he felt such intense rage – and fear for his family -"

"I wish we'd found them."

"Three names isn't much to work with given twelve billion people on Terra," Hanse said apologetically. "And I could be wrong about them being there in the first place. What Jaime Wolf told me about the Clan's founder was as much a mythology as it was a history. The most I'm sure of is that they must exist."

John rubbed his face. "How could a technological society fall so far?"

"Them? Or us?"

The First Prince gave him a sour look. "Yes."

Hanse made a face. "Fair, I suppose. I think Kerensky needed the time himself to kill that eagerness to get to grips with Amaris. Not just to secure his supply base and reorganise, but also to bring his forces to bear with a level head."

"And he hasn't had that time now? He didn't even return to the field until almost two years ago."

"Don't judge the man until you've been in his shoes, knowing your children are missing behind enemy lines, that they could be in the hands of someone who'd not hesitate to use them against you." There was ice in Hanse's voice.

"Personal experience?" John asked him quietly.

"The first wave of the Jade Falcons' attacks hit Trellwan – these days it's up on the border between the Lyrans and the Rim Worlds but in my day it was on the Lyran border with the Rasalhague Republic. Victor was there – a quiet garrison posting – an unspoken agreement with Theodore Kurita that we wouldn't send our sons to war with each other." The corners of Hanse's mouth curled in a bitter smile. "Both of us almost lost our sons. It was weeks before Melissa and I knew that Victor's commander had him dragged onto the last dropship to leave Trellwan."

"You never said anything."

"He made it off when thousands of others didn't. And then I had to kill my own heart and send him back to war."

"And Theodore Kurita's son?" John asked, curiously.

"Captured, but freed by a Combine crime syndicate of all people!" Hanse shook his head, smile edging into the bittersweet. "I actually liked the kid. He and Victor butted heads like young bulls but when they started working together… amazing things happened. This generations' Kurita's are monsters but Theodore was something else." He laughed sharply. "If he was leading the Combine I'd be tempted to have you back him as First Lord."

"Anything but fight him again?"

"God, yes. He took the wreck we made of the DCMS in the Fourth Succession War and held us off in '39, outnumbered two or three to one. What he could do with the army Minoru Kurita is building doesn't bear thinking of."

"That doesn't bode well for our prospects if we fail then." John shook his head. "So Kerensky's letting his eagerness to strike for Terra get ahead of him?"

"It's possible."

"And the Star League Navy's taken an unholy beating. Would he even have the ships? From what he says he's got more ships needing repairs than all five of the member-states have in total."

"There are almost a thousand more ships even taking into account his losses, although he'd have to strip his rear areas. On the other hand, whether he has enough ships with the revised NIKE systems - that I'm not sure of. Terra's defences are at least three times as strong as anywhere else. By the best numbers I have, he'd be better giving it another six months or a year."

"He's forced to that time now," John said. "And with ships in repair they can be fitted with jammers. But still, Terra next year would be tremendous. In your time it was '76, we'd have cut the war by almost a third."

"Landing on Terra is one thing," his distant descendant reminded him. "Taking it is another. The defences Jonathon Cameron ordered built were peerless and Amaris, like any dictator, always kept his best and most loyal troops around him. Even with virtually the full weight of the SLDF fighting there on one world it took three and a half years to dig Amaris out. Nothing since… since the earliest wars of the industrial age has compared."

"I suppose I'm eager too," admitted the prince. "To have it over."

"To have the war over is one thing." Hanse rose and walked to look out over the city with John. "But that alone won't save the Star League."

.o0O0o.

Lieuben, Keid

Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony

24 December 2772

The gauss rifles firing from positions around the Fleet Headquarters building smashed the 225th Division's first push on the position. Tanks and 'Mechs could endure only a limited number of hits from the supersonic projectiles and even a single hit turned APCs into shattered and bleeding wrecks, the squads inside them gutted by shards of metal torn free from the chassis of their own transports.

"Do they have anything up there that isn't firing gauss rifles?" Ethan asked once he'd made sure his battalion was more or less intact. Terry Farrell's Lancelot had lost a leg and was still out there, the Mechwarrior having bailed out and taken cover behind a memorial plinth of some kind rather than be shot to pieces trying to crawl his 'Mech to safety. Other than that they hadn't lost anyone, which left him thirty-three 'Mechs including his own.

"I didn't see anything," Moore replied. "Dug in tanks – probably Demons and Alacorns – and a couple of Galahads that I saw. Didn't recon give any warning?"

"Recon lost something like a company between VTOL and hover tank probes in this area. They reported a strongpoint based on losses," Ethan advised grimly. He pulled up his own BattleROM and scrolled back through the sensor recordings until he had a good visual of one of the 'Mechs fighting back. "Looks like we're dealing with Hegemony Patriot Battalions."

"I hate those guys. And why would Amaris give them heavy equipment like that?"

"We're right in the core of the Hegemony, they've probably been getting nothing but propaganda for the last five years. It could mean they're true believers in Amaris' new order." The young major – when he'd enrolled in the SLDF the fighting in the Periphery had raised the dazzling possibility he might make captain by his mid-twenties and he'd only turned twenty-five last month – switched channels to the command net. "This is Major Moreau, my battalion's taken some hits but we're clear to resume the attack."

There was a pause and then the familiar voice of Hector DiGriz, the regimental sergeant major. "Colonel Pondsmith's cockpit took a hit, major."

Dammit. Ethan had rather liked the regiment's commander, replacing 'Big Jim' O'Ryan after the other officer had tried to run a minefield back on Lockdale. The next most senior battalion commander was Toriyama, but his battalion had been detached to a different battle group and the last of the 'Mech battalions was under Wright, who'd only been bumped up after a sniper on Deneb Algedi caught the command group in the open. "Major Jonas?"

"Sorry sir, he's not reported in. Best guess is his APC took a hit."

"Shit." The infantry commander had been a good man. That left Ethan himself and the commander of the tank battalion. Pritchard had had a few things to say about the new Major assigned in and they hadn't been particularly flattering. Ethan didn't know the man's date of rank though. "Sergeant Major, get on the infantry net and find out who's in charge and what their losses are."

"Acknowledged, sir."

"Major Ross." He paused. "Major Ross?" No response. Thumbing another pre-set he switched to the armoured battalion frequency. "Major Ross, this is Major Moreau."

"Get off this frequency, Moreau."

"Major, we need to talk."

"No, you need to hunker your battalion down while I get some god-damn air-strikes in on those treacherous bastards. I lost a half-dozen tanks out there and I'm not sending my battalion out again. A couple of pee-wee nukes'll shift them."

"Respectfully, Major -"

"I told you to get off the freaking channel and do your own job, Major!" Ross half-screamed.

Ethan cut the channel without another word and signalled the other 'Mech battalion. "Major Wright,"

"Major Moreau. I heard about the Colonel. What are your orders?"

"As far as I can tell, Major Ross is senior. He appears to want us to hold position until he can call in air-strikes."

Wright hesitated. "I wouldn't want to be the pilots," he said at last. "Those gauss rifles will be just as bad for them as they were for us. Are you sure that's what he said? I didn't hear him on the command net."

"I tried contacting him on his battalion net. He's requesting nukes."

"In the middle of the city? Is he…" Wright broke off for a moment. "Major, I don't think divisional command will sign on that."

"That's pretty much my own feeling. Firstly because that's Fleet Headquarters. There's no knowing how much it's been stripped and how much intelligence data could be gleaned. And secondly because it would convince the rest of the Patriot units on Keid that Amaris is right to blame us for the damage on other worlds."

"Is he actually senior to you?"

"Probably. He seems to assume as much and it wouldn't take much to be senior to either of us."

"I'm not that keen on rushing them again though. I was down four 'Mechs and we weren't within half a kilometre."

"Just one down myself," Ethan admitted, "But there was a lot of armour damage – could be as much as a short regiment up there. I'd rather have a full brigade if we storm them a second time."

"Do you have another plan?" asked Wright.

Ethan grunted and then saw a light. "Hold on, I've got a signal." Another light. "Two signals." He opened the first.

"Major," diGriz reported. "Captain Bellamy is in charge of the infantry. She wants twenty minutes to reorganise into two reinforced companies and suggests a dismounted attack if we resume action."

"Understood, good work, Sergeant Major." He switched to the other incoming channel. "Major Moreau."

Marissa Miller's voice cut was cut through with static. While other officers had seen their careers rise through the bloody war, the divisional commander was on her second climb up the ranks of seniority – she'd been a Corps XO before deploying to the periphery only to be side-lined after the Corps was disbanded. "Major, I just had an extraordinary conversation with Major Ross. What's going on there?"

"Sir, we're up against two, maybe three battalions of heavily dug in Hegemony Patriots with a definite bent towards gauss rifles. We've taken about ten percent losses as a battle group, mostly among the infantry. We can keep trying to take them down with frontal attacks but casualties will be extremely high."

"Hmm. Ross had two requests – first for a nuclear airstrike on the enemy positions and second that you be reprimanded for poor comm discipline. What's that last one about?"

That petty asshole! "I contacted him on his battalion net after I couldn't get a response on the command net, general."

"I see. Very well. Both requests are denied. Moreau, I'm breveting you to Colonel and putting you in charge of the battle group until we can spare reinforcements. If you can't use Ross, relieve him. Can you isolate the enemy position?"

"Yes sir." He thought. "I request permission to try negotiating with them."

"You think it'll work?"

"I don't think it costs us anything right now."

Miller snorted. "Fine. Just don't offer them the world back. I don't think General Huong would be pleased."

.o0O0o.

The commander of the Republicans was named Hector Graham, although he insisted that his force was a regiment of the Amaris Empire Armed Forces.

"A shit by any other name," Pritchard warned. "What sort of honest tanker takes Amaris' coin?"

"Quite a lot of them, apparently," Ethan told her before he left to meet the other commander under the guns of both forces.

They'd agreed to go out alone and on foot, which wasn't an enjoyable walk. The parkland around the Fleet Headquarters was level and mostly grass but it was scarred by their brief exchanges of fire. And of course, there was the concern that someone on the other side would decide to break the truce and take a pot-shot at him. Of course, if they did then the first Ethan would know about it was when he reached the gates of heaven.

"I'm Colonel Graham." The stocky man wore a uniform very similar to Pritchard's except for the shark badges of his service.

"Colonel Moreau." He didn't offer his hand, much less salute.

Graham eyed his shoulders. "Colonel?"

"Rank pins aren't exactly a priority for shipping compared to food, medicine… all the many things needed in a warzone."

"Fair enough," the other man admitted. "So what do you want to talk about? If it's surrender, I can offer favourable terms. The Director-General's orders are to welcome those who recognise his authority."

Only the manners his mother drummed into him as a boy kept Ethan from spitting. "I doubt he's had many takers. And I won't be one of them."

"Then what do we have to talk about? Lord Amaris is our rightfully elected Director-General and Kerensky is seeking to overthrow him by military force. That's illegal, any way you slice it."

"Your lord is a mass-murderer. I was on Lockdale."

Graham shook his head. "Your general is the one who brought war to the Hegemony and I should believe wild claims that the people defending the Hegemony destroyed our own world? You're not even from the Hegemony – don't you think I'd recognise a League accent?"

Ethan pulled out a data chip. "This is a recording from my last 'Mech. A BattleROM from the fighting on Lockdale. The 'Mech itself is probably still waiting for decontamination after Amaris' forces deployed V2 nerve agents inside a city. You're telling me that you think the SLDF did that to its own troops?"

"We've all heard of how you ran amok in the Periphery and Cameron authorised atrocities to bring them back in line. You might believe your commanders if they tell you it was Amaris…"

"I do believe that. But if you don't, how about this?" He offered a second chip.

Graham eyed it dubiously. "And this is?"

"My first view of Deneb Algedi. We were the first dropships to land – more than a week after Amaris' garrison there withdrew. There was no fighting at all there and it's pretty hard to fake being first in." Ethan pushed the chip forwards. "They nuked the factories without regard for cities built on or around them. Blighted the crops…" He paused and shook his head. "Hell, they specifically demolished over a hundred bridges just to cripple the planet's ground transport system. And we hadn't gone within light years of the place."

"That's a likely story." The AEAF offer took the chip, weighed it in his hand and passed both chips back. "Easily fabricated."

"You're really determined to get your men killed for that butcher?" He shook his head. "I don't even know… wait, quick question for you. How many of the SLDF do you think have families on Terra? Or in the rest of the Hegemony?"

"I… Where are you going with this?"

"Royal Command – dozens of divisions – is recruited entirely from the Terran Hegemony. And most of Kerensky's senior officers had their families on Terra or New Earth. How much have you heard of those people? Even in passing?" Ethan gave Graham a grim look. "Because we haven't heard a damn thing. Not a word via HPG, nothing in the media. And on every world we liberate it's the same: a tiny proportion come out of hiding, the ones who were smart enough to get away when the OPD rounded them up."

"That's impossible."

"Think about it. If Amaris has them, why wouldn't he put them on cameras? Have them pleading with their families to make peace. To negotiate with Amaris, testifying to his good intentions? It's an obvious move, isn't it?"

Graham frowned. "I suppose you have an answer."

"Every survivor we found was at least affiliated with a resistance group. Amaris knew who would form the core of opposition to him. So after he slaughtered the Camerons, he went after the SLDF dependents. Men, women and children. Retirees. And no one has ever seen them again." Ethan turned and started walking away, then turned his head and looked back at Graham. "Your regiment is standing between tens of thousands of fearful, angry soldiers and the only chance they have of finding their families. And those people are my comrades. I really suggest you get out of our way."

.o0O0o.

SLDF Headquarters, New Earth

Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony

31 January 2773

The sprawling headquarters complex of the SLDF hadn't been destroyed by the Rim Worlds forces, if only because they'd made their own headquarters and their final stand there. Engineering battalions were working to make good the most vital repairs but most of the efforts needed to be elsewhere.

There was no way to view the damage to New Earth in the abstract… When the resistance seized control of a town or city, the Amaris commanders had sent in troops to smash them. In the few cases where this wasn't enough, demonstration strikes with nuclear weapons had been carried out.

A few resistance strongholds had clung on anyway, many of their combatants dying of radiation poisoning even as they tried to keep Republican regiments away from the bunkers their families hid within. The arrival of the SLDF had added to the holocaust, with an insane arsenal unleashed recklessly on both the landing zones and a succession of seemingly random targets.

Hanse had broken the reasoning to John with as much diplomacy as he could: the non-military targets were the sites of concentration camps and of factories where the workers had been effectively prisoners, forced to work as an alternative to their families facing firing squads. The governor, an Amaris appointee, had been trying to hide evidence of his crimes by incinerating them.

Cold and probably contaminated rain pattered against the towers of the Headquarters complex and John pulled a raincoat close around him despite the heating. He joined in the applause as Kerensky made yet another award for valour. With so much of the SLDF now concentrated in the inner Hegemony, the General was at last able to honour many of the men and women who had earned medals by delivering them personally. Hopefully it would be good for morale.

"There's only one thing he has to say to send morale sky-high," Hanse disagreed with the comment John had directed to Aaron DeChevilier. "Terra is next." The ghost looked around in fascination. "It's amazing to be here."

Many of the awards were being delivered posthumously but that roll of honour had been read out over more than two hours at the start of the ceremony. Living honourees were a better note to wrap up the ceremony on and the last award was to a Colonel in the 225th BattleMech Division – inducted into the Order of the Sword not only for repeated battlefield valour but for persuading a full regiment of Hegemony natives in Amaris' service to lay down their weapons and surrender. The man looked absurdly young for his rank, but war raised those who survived rapidly up the ranks.

Kerensky waited for Colonel Moreau to resume his seat before moving to the last point of order on the day's agenda.

"Six years ago," he declared, gripping the podium with both hands. "Six years ago this very day, Stefan Amaris made an announcement to the entire Inner Sphere. He announced that he had betrayed and killed the First Lord, that he had usurped power within the Terran Hegemony, and demanded that all humanity bow to his self-proclaimed imperium."

"Six long hard years. Time enough for everyone in the Inner Sphere to learn what lay behind Amaris' mask of amiability. And while some have refused to see… some still refuse to see… there none of those here. We know that he is a tyrant unparalleled in human history. A butcher who has caused deaths that can no longer be counted merely in the millions or even the tens of millions." He closed his eyes a moment. "Nor even in the hundreds of millions. The sheer brutality of his regime and the utter savagery his soldiers have shown towards civilian populations is without any precedent. Not even the Huns or the Mongol hordes of old demonstrated such callousness."

"Through all of this, you have endured. More than endured, you have excelled in the most difficult feats of arms ever asked of any army."

Kerensky paused and looked around the room. "My fellow soldiers. I make no secret of this, for Amaris must assuredly understand this fact by now. We are going home. Terra will be freed!"

The assembly rose to their feet and applauded the statement… no, the promise. John was among them, as was Baltazar Liao, representing his mother. None of the other Great Houses had been invited to be represented.

"Inspiring words," Baltazar murmured under his breath. "More easily said that done though."

"He's got a good head on his shoulders," Hanse noted, giving the young Liao a look. "I don't know that he'd be a better Chancellor than his mother but on some levels he might not be worse."

John nodded slightly, seeing Baltazar took it as agreement with his words not Hanse's – which of course he could not hear. In Hanse's history Baltazar pre-deceased his mother, a relatively early casualty of the First Succession War – along the Capellans' Marik border, if that mattered now. From what Hanse said it was Barbara's as-yet-unborn grandchild who led the Capellan Confederation out of that war… and another unborn child who had been destined to do the same for the Federated Suns.

Had been. Those words were John's hope. Whether you know it or not, young Baltazar, I hope you live long and reign well. Perhaps you and Joshua will be able to mend relations between our houses.

Kerensky waited out the applause and then raised his hands. "While the operational details are naturally classified and in some cases are still being finalised, I can tell you that there will be a short period of reorganisation and preparation. Many of you will receive fresh orders shortly, although wherever possible you will continue to fight alongside the men and women that you already know and have fought beside in the past. Until the time comes, let us all remain vigilant."

With the formal ceremonies over, the guests and the honourees were ushered through into a second hall where food and drink awaited them. Perhaps not quite the elaborate canapés and fine wines that had once been staples of SLDF hospitality, but a step towards that old standard.

John lingered in the main hall, withdrawing into one of the tall window nooks in full confidence that few would presume to intrude upon him. Before he could ask Hanse for his thoughts though, two of the exceptions entered the same nook. "General Kerensky, Lord Liao."

"Prince Davion." The young Liao bowed to a polite degree. "Or, your pardon, should I call you Marshal Davion here…? We are among soldiers after all."

Kerensky shook his head slightly. "The Duke of St Ives has raised a question that I think may have crossed your mind, John." He gave the First Prince a serious look. "One that I would speak clearly on."

"We appear to be alone," John said. Just the four of them – three to their eyes. "Let us set aside rank and be forthright with each other, if that suits you Baltazar."

"By all means." The Liao pressed his hands together for a moment. "The question that I must ask is this: what happens when Amaris is defeated. House Cameron may be no more, so who will lead the Star League?"

"Or the Terran Hegemony, for that matter?" John asked. "There are some mechanisms, of course, but they're rather abused."

"Baltazar makes the point… cogently, I must confess, that a new Director-General is not guaranteed the position of First Star Lord. That was conferred specifically upon House Cameron and if they are indeed extinct…" Kerensky looked uncomfortable at the idea.

"Then I suppose we would either need to make other arrangements or appoint a new First Lord," John agreed. "The point may be moot of course – House Cameron has many branches and some of which don't even share the name. Even excluding those such as the Cameron-Davions which are specifically barred from the succession, at least normally, there could very well be other survivors."

"Intriguing that you say they would be normally excluded," Baltazar noted darkly.

"The Star League Council would be empowered to overturn that, although I concede it's an unlikely option and hopefully unnecessary."

Kerensky looked at John and then turned back to Baltazar. "You also asked me if I intended to take the position."

"And you have not answered me."

"A soldier's place is to serve, not to lead."

John frowned. "Being First Lord would be a thankless task, one of herculean demands. I'd only accept it myself as a last resort but there are certainly arguments in your favour, Aleksandr."

Baltazar blinked. "You would not seek the position? Some might claim that you have earned it, Prince Davion, and put your name forward."

"If elected I would serve, but the only reward I'd like is for your mother and the other Lords to start acting as if the Star League was worth their time and energy," John snapped bitterly. "Look out there, go out and see what war has done here. Without the Star League, every world along our borders could look the same."

"I was a poor regent," Kerensky said softly as the eyes of those in the hall began to turn towards them. "I would not be a good choice as First Lord."

"The First Lord's leadership was based on three factors." John lowered his voice. "Firstly, the support of the SLDF. Secondly, the widespread respect the public felt for them. Thirdly, the economic and scientific might of the Hegemony. Two of those you have and were you to become Director-General then the third could also support you."

Baltazar shook his head. "Would the Star League Council support such a notion? Even so far as accepting General Kerensky as Director-General?"

"The Star League Council, to a large extent, watched Amaris seize power in the Hegemony and did nothing. Even when your mother sent soldiers it was less for the sake of the people being oppressed or to oppose Amaris than it was out of concern that I might become too influential." John shook his head. "What would make them do differently this time?"

"Ah…" The young Liao shook his head. "I see your reasoning gentlemen. If House Cameron survives then it would certainly simplify matters. However, may I inform the Chancellor that should House Cameron be unable to continue as Director-General that neither of you is strongly inclined to claim the position of the First Lord."

John and Kerensky nodded. "In any case," the General added. "I have no heirs. Important in a First Lord."

"Quite so." Baltazar bowed deeply. "Then if you will permit, I will join the reception before I further anger John."

The two older men returned his bows and watched as he made his way through to the other hall. Then they looked at each other and both looked away sharply.

"This is worse than a comedy act," Hanse told John. "If the two of you can't talk."

John shook his head. "I think he bought that last statement," he said flatly.

"What?" Kerensky gave him a sharp look.

"The Kerensky family isn't large but you do have a family, Aleksandr. And…"

"What do you know?" The question was a flat one.

"Your security is excellent, but unless I'm mistaken, you married sometime before Richard's majority and probably have a child. Where they might be…" John shrugged. "The information's too sensitive to dig too deeply so I told the Ministry not to go looking in case we exposed them to Amaris."

"Two sons," Kerensky said after a moment. "The younger I have never seen. Andery was born after I left for the Periphery."

John nodded sympathetically. "No one needs to know that."

"I want better for them. And being dragged into the politics of the Star League is… terrible for children."

"I can't argue with that. Even without Amaris."

Kerensky nodded. "Your own reputation is good, John. Were you elected, the SLDF would support you. And I believe many outside of the Suns respect your decision to support our efforts."

"It would be better than some outcomes, but the Director-General – whoever it was – would remain very powerful once the Hegemony recovers."

"Your own realm comes closer than any other," the general said. "That's why I sent your people away. Perhaps it was a mistake on my part, but I know you've been using your access to strength your realm."

"I don't deny it."

"Due payment I suppose. It might make you a better choice as First Lord… but not a better man."

"I'd settle for any of the others – or even an agreement not to have a First Lord – over an extended contest for the office. We can survive a poor First Lord or a vacancy there. I'm not sure the Star League could survive if we begin to fight for the office."

.o0O0o.

SLS Richard Cameron, Terran Star System

Alliance Core, Terran Hegemony

24 March 2773

Given that Caspar Drones were smart enough to identify and target ships with NIKE-jamming systems, Kerensky had ordered that in future no admiral was to use such a warship as a flagship. As a result, Janos Grec had shifted his flag to one of the tiny number of Farragut-class battleships available. Almost all of them had been decommissioned well before the Star League, more due to their immense operating costs than any failing of their actual systems.

Officially, the class were supposed to be mothballed and in fact the First Lord had authorised scrapping them for the germanium and other valuable materials shortly before his death. How many had actually been disposed of was uncertain but given the SLS Richard Cameron (named for the seventh Director-General of the Terran Hegemony, the man who'd originally ordered the Farragut-class, not for his eleven generations removed descendant of the same name) had been found being re-commissioned in docks at the Delhi Shipyards over Carver IV, it was evident some had not been.

That half of the Delhi docks had been torn to shreds but the fact that the battleship had survived the damage endeared her to Grec and he'd arranged priority in one of the remaining slips to finish the fitting out and claim her as his flagship for the newly reorganised First Fleet.

"The first wave ships confirm the defence stations were taken out," came the report as systems stabilised after the jump.

"Acknowledged," he confirmed. "Watch for mobile defenders."

The first wave of manned ships had jumped in just outside the expected range of weapons fire from the M-9 SDS stations on the outskirts of Saturn's planet system, with each wave arriving a few thousand kilometres further away. But before any true warships had arrived – a full day before in fact - four Leviathan-class jumpships had been sent in, each carrying eight captured M-3 drones packed with explosives. The fragile jumpships hadn't stood a chance but they only had to survive long enough for the drones to detach. It had also only been a matter of time before the M-3s were destroyed or even subverted by the command stations.

But none of the drones themselves had to exist longer than it took to reach the stations that orbited between Saturn and the edge of the proximity limit and at maximum acceleration that wasn't a long flight. The loss of the stations made it clear that at least three of the M-3 drones had managed that. Good enough.

The vast majority of jumpships were assembled near jump points. Particularly in the modern day when jumpships needed tows to travel any significant distance across a star system it simply made economic sense. Saturn's largest moon, Titan, was nowhere near the Zenith or Nadir jump point but it was only necessary to travel around eighty million kilometres beyond Saturn's orbit before Sol's gravitational influence was so weak that it was possible to use a Kearney-Fuchida drive.

In the first days of star travel, before the use of jump points well above the orbital plane of a star system became standard, that was perfectly acceptable. Titan wasn't where the first jumpships had been made, but the sprawling yards there had been where the vast majority of the Terran Alliance's colonial fleet was assembled. Even now it was a major civilian yard – and under the control of Amaris' fleet.

Grec's flagship was surrounded by almost four hundred warships, a force vastly larger than any pre-war fleet and they almost certainly outnumbered the entire remaining Republican fleet.

"All waves have made contact. Two ships haven't arrived. The fleet's expected to be in formation within three minutes."

"Excellent. We proceed on schedule."

Grec's eyes were fixed on the tactical display. The only force Amaris could use against him was the Caspar drones and their escorts – and the chance to engage a portion, however potent, of the Star League Navy and achieve defeat in detail should hopefully be irresistible.

On the other hand, if Amaris didn't object to the SLDF seizing control a major shipyard inside the solar system, neither Grec nor Kerensky would have any complaints.