Part Two - Irian
Can't sleep beneath the trees of wisdom
When your ax has cut the roots that feed them
Forked tongues in bitter mouths
Can drive a man to bleed from inside out
Chapter 8
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
23 December 3064
"Last time I had that many people waiting for me to get off a dropship, I had to shoot my way off it," Galen Cox observed, twisting his neck to look out of the window at the crowds at the spaceport.
"I hope that won't be necessary, you didn't bring your BattleMech."
"That would just make it a fair fight," the blond SLDF officer told Isis, with a broad smile to show her that he wasn't seriously worried.
She nodded. "Well, as I recall 'fair fights' are a cardinal sin in military planning so let's not do that."
"That's me told," Galen agreed and stepped forward to hold the door for her.
A wall of sound greeted Isis as she walked out into the spaceport concourse. The Captain-General had pushed her patent of nobility through with as much stealth as he could arrange so it had only been a week since Isis' elevation to Duchess of Irian hit the public, strategically paired with her return to the Free Worlds League in the news.
To either side of the concourse, BattleMechs came to attention as if the Captain-General or some other dignitary was arriving. The four 'Mechs to her left were predominantly white, with green and purple highlights on their limbs - Free Worlds Legionnaire colours - while the four on the right were purple with red and blue accents, marking them as the Marik Militia. Behind the lines of troops, a mass of people stood, many waving flags bearing the eagle badge of House Marik.
"Quite a welcome."
Isis nodded and raised her hand to return the gesture. "At a guess, the Seventh Free Worlds Legionnaires and the Thirteenth Marik Militia - they're the two regiments stationed here. But I wasn't expecting a parade welcome."
"Perhaps the Captain-General gave them orders." Galen nodded to the flags being waved by the crowds beyond the 'Mechs, each showing the Marik eagle. "It'd be hard for IrTech to complain about you after you get a hero's welcome like this."
"There is that," she conceded.
Up ahead the waiting delegation had two FWLM officers flanking an assured looking civilian.
"Mr. Hughes," Isis greeted him, stepping forwards openly. "I hope I haven't taken you away from business by arriving on such short notice."
Sigismund Hughes gave no sign of his annoyance that after decades of intransigence from his family and his corporation, Irian would now have a duchess. "It is both business and pleasure to welcome you to your new home, Duchess Marik."
Isis extended her hand and the CEO of Irtech bowed his head to kiss the back of it. "A home is something I've missed for a long time," she told Hughes. "It's very gracious of House Hughes to be so welcoming."
With a sharp smile, Hughes turned his head to include the officers. "I'd like to introduce you to Colonel Reissing, who handles security around our battlemech plants, and General Mountash, the commander of Irian's garrison."
"I've heard of your regiments," Isis assured the two. "The Thirteenth Militia appeared regularly in the military histories I've studied and the growth of the Legions has mirrored the growing strength of the League through my childhood. I'm sure that if called upon, you'd both bring honour to your formations."
Lucy Mountash smiled broadly at the compliment. "That's very kind of you to say so, your grace." Reissing merely nodded quietly, a more reserved smile flickering across his face. The general looked to Galen. "And you can only be the legendary Galen Cox. We weren't expecting to see one of the heroes of the Clan Invasion here on Irian."
Galen saluted crisply. "I didn't realise I was a celebrity here in the League, General. The Commanding General sent me here on a purchasing mission and Lady Isis offered me the opportunity to travel with her."
"We've known each other since 'fifty-one," Isis added smoothly.
"You look very healthy for a dead man," the general quipped, offering Galen her hand.
He accepted and shook vigorously before taking Colonel Reissing's hand. "It seemed expedient not to let the then-Archon know that the bombing hadn't killed me; but now that the war's over I can use my own name again."
"I'd have thought that the SLDF would make orders through their FWLM liaison officer," Hughes mused out loud as he took his turn welcoming Galen. "Aren't you a long way from home, Colonel?"
"I was born on Tamar," Galen explained. "It's a little difficult to travel there at the moment, Clan Wolf tend to object. As for the FWLM liaison, their job is to coordinate military operations with the SLDF. We prefer to have as few middlemen as possible when it comes to purchasing. You may have heard that we're forming two new brigades in the next few years and Isis persuaded me that Irtech was the logical place to start looking for BattleMechs."
"We do have some production." Hughes somehow kept a straight face with that understatement, though he did look back at Isis for a moment.
That's right, she thought, realising he'd grasped the point. I bring connections that can be useful - and profitable - to Irian. And I've got backing other than the Captain-General. Two companies of battlemechs could cost as much as a quarter of a billion C-bills. After that they'd need spare parts, and if a good relationship could be established then there could be future purchases - who knew how large the SLDF could eventually become?
"I'll be glad to talk business with you." The CEO shook Galen's hand. "But today is our Duchess' day."
"No, Lord Hughes, today is their day." Isis nodded towards the crowd. "Colonel Reissing, would it disturb your troops if I went to meet the public?"
"Given how many of their families are in the crowd, I'd think they'd be pleased," he answered drily. "Please come with me, your grace."
Isis accepted Reissing's arm and he escorted her towards the people of Irian, followed by Hughes, Galen and General Mountash.
Chapter 9
The Triad, Tharkad
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
25 December 3064
Peter and Victor reached the lounge for their next appointment with just enough time to open a bottle of sparkling mineral water before the screen lit up to indicate an incoming call. The brothers expected to be doing a lot of social drinking this evening so they wanted to be well hydrated in advance.
"Can you get that, Victor?" the Archon-Prince asked as he was holding the bottle and two glasses.
Victor grabbed the remote and after a short conversation with the Triad's communication staff, the screen lit up with a 2-D view of another lounge, one more than five hundred light years away.
"Happy Christmas, Victor," Yvonne called from the couch she sat on, facing the camera. She had a steaming mug of hot chocolate in her hands. "And to you, Peter."
Setting the glasses down and pouring, Peter waved with his now free hand. "And seasons' greetings to you, Yvonne. Is Catherine late?"
"She should be here any time now."
An instant later Peter heard a door opening and Catherine entered the view, wearing black leggings and gloriously gaudy christmas sweater that almost reached her knees. "Merry Christmas." She dropped into a seat next to Yvonne. "Sorry I'm late."
"Getting changed after the celebrations?" asked Victor, sitting down next to Peter and accepting his glass.
Yvonne snorted. "She wore that to the party," she snitched. "I thought her valet was going to cry, she'd picked out a lovely dress and then Catherine wore that."
"It's Christmas. Besides, I don't think Madelaine has quite grasped that I'm not Katrina."
The younger sister shrugged. "Yes, but you look just like her, so the best colours and shapes are going to be the same recommendations."
Cat shook her head stubbornly. "If there's any upside to this royalty business I'm sure it has to be setting fashions not following them."
"It is, as you say, Christmas," Peter offered tolerantly. At least Cat had attended the party - she'd threatened to hide in the depths of Fox's Den with some of her personal library and wait out the season after she saw how busy the royal family's schedules were in the holiday.
"You've still got your evening engagements to go to?" asked Yvonne. "Or am I getting the clocks wrong?"
"The Archon's Christmas Ball for me and Victor gets to escape to a party Semier Data Tron are hosting on FCS Reunion." The corporation had just launched the Excalibur-class dropship and were holding the party in low orbit so that their senior executives and guests from the ship-building industry and AFFC could look down on everyone else's party.
Peter, on the other hand, would be trapped in the palace ballroom with approximately half a thousand business magnates, nobles and their eligible daughters. The price of freedom from Katrina's rule was apparently eternal matchmaking.
His sisters smiled in understanding. "How you suffer," Cat said drily. "I know your pain, but Yvonne can hide behind Tancred while all the other young ladies make clawing gestures." She demonstrated and hissed.
Yvonne giggled. "They don't really."
"You have no idea what they're like because when Tancred's around you only look at him."
"Well perhaps the ladies will calm down before I get back to New Avalon." Peter sipped from his glass. "Which should be around February or March, depending on how quickly you get here to take over from me, Yvonne. The new repaired recharge stations along the Tharkad-New Avalon shipping routes should mean we can travel quickly without tying up the ships for a command circuit."
His youngest sister blinked in surprise. "You want me to come to Tharkad?"
He paused, not expecting that response. "Yes, that's why I've been keeping you up to date on everything here. I…" Peter thought back. "Okay, I suppose I hadn't actually come out and said it."
"Are you sure that that's a good idea?" Yvonne looked away. "I didn't do well as Victor's regent."
"You were younger and less experienced then," pointed out Victor. "If it wasn't for Kath-" He caught himself. "-rina, you'd have done fine. I didn't see that coming either."
"Good save," Cat told him drily. "Why not stick with Kathrina? It's different enough most people should know who you mean."
Victor raised his glass in acceptance of the deal. "And you'll have more support - we'll all be within easy HPG communication, not a thousand light years from the Inner Sphere."
Yvonne paused, opened her mouth to speak and then hesitated.
"If it's about Tancred, I should let you know that the Fourteenth Federated Commonwealth is short-listed as one of the units to transfer across to the Lyran state command." Peter set his glass down. "If he agrees, I'm planning on posting them here on Tharkad to finish bringing them up to strength with Lyran personnel."
"Not everything I decide is about my relationship with Tancred, which is none of your business, anyway!"
Cat leaned across and put one arm around Yvonne's shoulders. "He's not trying to meddle, Yvonne. He's just leaving your options open. But if you don't want to go to Tharkad, I'll take the job. It'll let me skip out on the three ring circus."
"What circus?"
"Peter's coronation, of course." The blonde rolled her eyes. "The ceremonies alone will take days, and then there are the social obligations… any excuse to skip all that is a good one."
"It must be something about having blonde hair," Peter muttered to his brother. "You hate that rigmarole too."
"It's not the hair," Victor corrected him testily. "Morgan hated formal events too - and Kathrina adored them."
"Will you be coming too? Or staying on Tharkad?" asked Yvonne.
"Neither, sorry." Victor shrugged apologetically. "Peter's sending me down to Cavanaugh II and then a quick tour of the rest of Bolan Province. Cousin Richard made a real mess of things and we need to get them in order in case the Free Worlds League comes apart."
Cat leant forwards. "Do you think that that's likely?"
"We'll have a better idea when their Parliament opens next month." Peter made a face. "What about you? What do you expect there?" He knew he was weighting the question heavily but short of asking outright, unwise since HPG security could only assume that ComStar hadn't managed to decrypt their communications protocols…
"The Captain-General's identity leaking out was always going to be a problem," Cat replied slowly. "I didn't expect issues for years though… I think his support within House Marik is fracturing but the other issue was the Word of Blake and so far the moderates seem to be keeping their radicals in check."
"How many years?"
"Sometime in the next First Lord's term." She frowned. "It's possible that if our own Civil War had run longer then the League would have been slower to move although I'm not sure about their exact calculations."
"There are times that I'm not either." Victor's face was grim for a moment. "Galen and Isis may be walking into a firestorm."
"Then you'll be in the right place to help them out," his youngest sister reminded him. "I'd rather you were on Tharkad but Bolan isn't so far away."
"What other units are you planning to move?" Cat changed the subject - or rather backstepped to an earlier point - abruptly. "I've been out of the loop on some of the military planning there."
"Is Bishop not keeping you up to date?" Peter had hoped that Field Marshal Sortek wasn't nurturing distrust of Catherine. If so he'd need to set the man straight once he was back on New Avalon.
"It's just Christmas complicating my schedule."
Peter rubbed his jaw and then conceded the point. "We're looking at just three Regimental Combat Teams from each side for now. There's too much ill-feeling to stir things further than that. The regiments from the Federated Suns command haven't been finalised but I'm sending all three of the Alliance Guards RCTs."
"Aren't they rejoining the FedCom Corps?" asked Cat in surprise. "I'd have thought…"
He made a face. "So did I, and they were willing… but the Corps weren't. Marshal Venger and I talked about it and he said he'd checked the senior staff of his RCTs and there were harsh words. Apparently there's a consensus that the Alliance Guards betrayed their sister regiments by joining the LAAF. They also objected in advance to any plan to reform the Third RCT the way we've been reconstituting the Sixth and Eighth RCTs."
"That doesn't leave many commands in the Corps." Only the First and Seventh FedCom RCTs had fought against Kathrina, with the Sixth smashed on Addicks, the Fifth on Algol and the Eighth battered badly on Kathil. The first and last were covered by the amnesty, but like all the troops on Algol the Fifth FedCom had had its colours retired.
"I know, but I only have so much political capital to spend. It's taking everything Venger and Tancred can do to bridge the gaps between the remaining units." Peter shrugged. "The Fifth, Ninth, Eleventh and Twelfth RCTs will stay struck from the books and we'll reform the Second RCT then start adding new numbers."
"Being destroyed in action against the Capellans is a little more creditable than being on the wrong side of a civil war in their eyes," Victor commented. "And at least the Sixth and Eighth have an influx of loyal personnel from the Albion cadet cadres."
"Loyal but inexperienced."
"We all have to start somewhere," Cat pointed out to Peter. "The Fifth Royals did."
"Touche," murmured Yvonne. "So I'll be coming directly to Tharkad?"
Peter shook his head. "Not quite. If the schedules work out - which look promising - I'd like you to make a couple of stops on the way. To be specific, on Skye and Donegal."
"Skye, I can understand," she said. "Reminding Robert and Hermione to mind their manners is just good sense, but why Donegal? Surely that's more reliable."
"You might think that," Victor corrected her, "But you'd be wrong."
"Nejama Beersheba-Marsden was much deeper in Kathrina's pockets than it appeared," Peter expanded, mood souring. "She very nearly managed to cover it up too. Fortunately she missed a couple of loose ends and Sabine realised what was going on and hustled the witnesses into protective custody."
"Good for her." Yvonne nodded decisively. "I'm glad to see one of Nondi's lot is showing some sense. So you want me to attend the elevation of the new Duke or Duchess."
"Well, it would be hard to grant you the title if you didn't attend."
"...what?"
"Merry Christmas." Peter toasted her with what was left of the water in her glass.
"Can… Are you serious?"
"You have as good a claim as anyone. Remember, our grandfather Arthur was the last Luvon Duke of Donegal and there's a lot of fond looking back to him, at least compared to his cousins and their descendants. I've had some independent checking of public opinion and there's a general feeling on Donegal that the ducal family has gone to the dogs since he died back in 3010."
"But," the twenty-five year old hesitated. "If I marry Tancred, then I'd be Duchess of Robinson someday."
"That's no reason not to have a duchy of your own," Peter refilled his glass. "You are basically my heir right now. If I don't manage to have an heir of my own body then you and your children having a foot either side of Terra wouldn't be a bad thing." He sat back. "So yes, christen the first Lee-class dropship built at Shipil's yards on Skye, then on to Donegal where I can meet you and take your oaths. Then we both attend the reopening of the Martial College of Donegal before I set off for New Avalon with the Fifth Royals and you take the First Royals back to Tharkad."
"You've forgiven them their transgressions then?" asked Cat.
"There's no real personnel overlap," he told her. "Riskind has done well and it'll be a step back to normalcy for everyone."
She nodded. "Should be popular."
Yvonne opened her mouth to speak but Victor deftly cut her off. "So has a decision been made on whether Nanking or Tikonov gets the new Capellan March Militia unit?"
The youngest Steiner-Davion sibling shook her head. "They've been such fiends about quarrelling, I think Cat and cousin George have given up."
"The decision has been deferred," her older sister reported. "George made a reasonable argument for both of them but that's not happening right now. The personnel just aren't available and to be honest I don't feel either should be rewarded."
Victor glanced at Peter. "I can see the logic behind dividing up the region up again - Valexa is already stretched given the importance of the area."
"For now the rest of the Capellan March Militia gets the personnel and equipment that was being set aside, which should free up frontline forces if they're needed. Perhaps more Borderers would be a solution," Cat continued, "We added Sirdar and Alcyone Borderer units with what's left of the Katrina loyalists from the Capellan March so, as long as we don't use them as a dumping ground, we could reorganise them into a multi-regiment formation rather than leave them operating independently."
"Not a terrible idea." Peter held up his hand. "But it'll have to wait at least another year before trying anything of the kind."
Cat nodded compliantly. "Of course."
"Who would have thought," Victor said tolerantly, "last Christmas, that we could be having this conversation now?"
There was a rustle of agreement from both sides of the video link.
The eldest of the four studied his own glass. "In your dreams, Catherine, where would we have been now?"
Peter brought his palm up to cover his face. "Goddammit, Victor."
"I'm serious."
"Security is just a word to you, isn't it?"
"Either our codes are good - and as far as I know they are, because my people inside ComStar couldn't tell me much about Katherine's - sorry, Kathrina's - communications - or they aren't and they know already."
Peter rolled his eyes but waved permission to Catherine.
"Yvonne would have been with Tancred, fighting for Tsamma against loyalist DMM brigades that had chased them there." She looked over to Peter. "You'd still be at Saint Marinus House, wrestling with your inner demons."
Victor raised an eyebrow when Catherine fell silent. "And me?"
"...neither Hohiro nor Theodore managed to tell you about Omi's assassination," she said reluctanty. "So Katrina decided to offer her 'consolations' at the Whitting Conference. It was a year before you could even get back in a 'Mech, much less give useful orders."
Peter leaned over and punched Victor reprovingly in the shoulder. "Great job breaking the mood, Victor."
Chapter 10
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
29 December 3064
Isis wondered if Sigmund Hughes was planning to bore her to sleep before she could play any part in the Director's meeting. The seat she had in the second tier of the room was certainly comfortable enough - although that might just be part of the general decor. Irian was a huge and well-established corporation and while its central administration wasn't quite as lavish as an equivalent noble manor might be, the practical comforts lacked nothing of that.
The central seats were filled by the major administrative officers and heads of the major divisions, including Irian BattleMechs Unlimited and - amusingly in a dark way, the Planetary Administrator. The place of the planet Irian's government as just one more part of the corporation - and hardly the most important - was evident.
Galen Cox had smuggled a self-heating carafe in with him, and once the review of the potential SLDF contract was complete - provisionally the agreement was that he would be looking at their Hermes II, Tempest and Albatross 'Mechs with a view to picking up four of each - he poured a cup for himself and then a second for her. "Not as well catered as some of our staff meetings back in the day." He kept his voice low.
"At least the drinks bar isn't serving," she replied under her breath as she accepted the cup. The hot, thick coffee took her back to the frigid wastes of north Bremen again.
If the tedium of the meeting was aimed at her, it was poorly planned. She'd sat through worse during the fighting over St Ives and then as an aide without official duties during Victor's campaigning against Katrina.
"We come next to the wider political situation," Hughes declared. "The political uncertainty on Atreus has led to an upswing in proposed orders from provincial authorities. This rather exceeds our current capacity so there is some question of who we must disappoint."
Isis tapped the remote by her chair, a request to be heard on the topic. It wasn't obligatory that the Board allow her to speak but as a major shareholder they wouldn't want to offend her either. In this case, Hughes barely looked down at his display before nodding. "Duchess Marik, I believe you wish to address this matter."
"Thank you." She rose to her feet and heads turned as directors and other major shareholders (or their representatives) took what was probably their first look at her. Isis had adopted a business suit, not wanting to stand out too visibly. "Some of you may remember the previous occasions when civil war rocked the Free Worlds League. The Andurien Secession was kind to Irian… but Anton Marik's treason was not."
That hit home with those old enough to have clear memories of 3014. Sigmund was among them - he'd taken over in the aftermath of significant damage to Irian's primary battlemech plant when loyalists reclaimed them from a rebel special operations group.
"We are accustomed to thinking of factories as semi-sacrosanct due to the difficulties in maintaining them through the Succession Wars," she continued. "But those difficulties are less now than they have been for centuries, and civil wars are no respecters of normal limits to warfare. We have seen this in the last few years with fighting on major industrial worlds of the Federated Commonwealth - in my own case, I had the unfortunate privilege of seeing Coventry Metal Works after the fighting there."
Nathaniel Rivarez, the Director of the BattleMechs Unlimited division, snorted. "We have two FWLM brigades here, Duchess. Besides our own security."
"And if those regiments take different sides?" Isis asked him coolly. "As happened on Kathil. And that was with just two sides fighting - we're looking at at least four distinct factions forming. The Captain-General, my cousin Corinne, the Regulans, and Duchess Humphreys of Andurien."
"I wasn't aware that Andurien was seeking the Captain-General's office," someone muttered.
Sigmund cleared his throat. "I believe Duchess Marik is suggesting a new attempt at independence, which is plausible given her interest in purchasing military supplies from us. I would ask, however, do you also see a claim in your own future? I know that your aunt Theresa is seeking alliances."
Isis shook her head. "I have no such aspirations. I would prefer that as much of the League remains uninvolved, to mitigate the damage that this power struggle will cause. Starting here, on Irian."
"And how do you propose that we should achieve this… admirable goal?" Rivarez demanded. "From what you say, Irian will be a major target for all of the rising factions."
"Should we offer our support to someone who can ensure our security?" asked the head of IMB Systems, Mirka Kjellsdottir.
Hughes scowled. "And if that faction should fail? We would become a target for the winners."
"Who will win?"
Isis couldn't tell who asked that, but it was clearly the question on everyone's mind. "There is no way to predict that at this time," she warned. "I therefore propose that Irian - and any other worlds we can influence - should take a neutral position. Offer to supply any units - federal or provincial - that are standing aside to guard the League against outside threats, and ensuring that whoever wins there is something left for that victor to rule."
"If we are no one's ally then we are everyone's enemy," challenged Kjellsdottor sharply. "The garrison units here could be ordered to seize our factories."
"And the outside threats…" Rivarez glared suspiciously in the direction of Galen. "Will the Federated Commonwealth take advantage?"
Galen cleared his throat and Isis gestured invitingly for him to speak up. Rising, the blond man shook his head slightly when she started to sit. "To the best of my knowledge, the Archon-Prince has no interest in expanding his realm through opportunism. He has more than a year of civil war to recover from, after all, and a hazardous border with Clan Jade Falcon. The new First Lord and Commanding General have discussed committing the SLDF to deter such attacks and it is likely other members of the Star League would be willing to unite against House Steiner-Davion."
"However," he continued before the tension could fade. "It's not possible for any Great House to exercise tight control over their borders. The recent clashes between the Draconis March and Draconis Combine are an example - both sides drawn into conflict by raids none of the rulers desired. The provinces of Bolan and Skye remain turbulent… and there is of course, the League's other major border."
Isis found the reference to the Capellan Confederation and her former fiance Sun-Tzu Liao less raw that it once had. The end of that engagement had removed one of the barriers to a war between the League and the Confederation. "The current Chancellor has built much of his reputation on reclaiming worlds lost to the Federated Commonwealth. I am sure he would not mind taking back worlds the Capellans have lost to the League over the years."
Sigmund Hughes held up his hand for silence. "I believe the Duchess has outlined a viable course of action. We cannot reasonably support all sides, so the choice is between backing one faction or following a policy of neutrality. And this must be armed neutrality, establishing ties to military units that will be both our customers and our protectors. Does anyone wish to propose a likely claimant that we can rely on to successfully secure our influence."
"Thomas Marik has done well by us," offered Rivarez, but then his shoulders slumped. "But whether he will rally the way his father did against insurrection?"
"If he's even Janos' son."
Kjellsdottor's words set more people looking towards Isis. She smiled sadly. "The current Captain-General has been very able, but my grandfather was able to rally support or at least acquiescence to him through legitimacy. With the current suspicions, it's clear that this isn't a factor we can rely on. If a political solution can be found, he may endure, but once fighting begins…" She spread her hands.
"May I ask for a quick poll in favour of the policy of armed neutrality?" Hughes' voice made it an order not a request.
There was a flurry of hands raised slightly in approval and the chairman nodded. "I don't believe we need a full vote of shareholders at this point. Duchess, I understand that you'll be meeting with the commanders of our garrisons socially soon. I would appreciate a fresh perspective of their intentions if civil war should begin."
Isis nodded in agreement and took a seat, trying to hide her relief at how well that had gone. Galen also sat, touching her elbow with his hand as he did so. When she looked at him, he gave her a wink of approval.
Chapter 11
Harlech, Outreach
Chaos March
5 January 3065
Peter's court, ramshackle as it was even now, was scattered across a dozen dropships at various stages of the journey from Tharkad to New Avalon. Command circuits had moved a few ahead, but most were taking commercial routes that were somewhat less efficient - if better than waiting for a fleet of jumpships to recharge completely in every system along the way.
While Peter could have travelled with one of the fastest moving dropships, he'd diverted in the Terran corridor to carry out some diplomacy and he'd taken a guard force from the Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards with him.
"If you want us to reconquer this part of the Chaos March, we may be a little outnumbered," his temporary aide observed as the bustling drop port of Harlech fell behind them. Scores of dropships were landing, loading or departing as the mercenary capital of the Inner Sphere fed on the business of war. The conflicts that had engulfed worlds of the former Sarna March demanded not just the vast regimental forces often hired by the Great Houses but also smaller and more affordable units.
All of them came here, to Outreach, to rest, rebuild, find new employers and then set out again. It was making the world rich.
"Don't worry, Sabine, if I want to take Outreach I realise it might take a little more than just the Twenty-Fourth to take on the Wolf Dragoons," he assured her. The new commander of the RCT would be securing worlds in the area, covering the vital link between two halves of his realm.
It wasn't far for the limousine to carry the two of them to their meeting room. A security detail had gone ahead and almost finished the jostling for position with the infantry already on guard there. Peter started to get out of the car but Sabine politely but firmly blocked him. "Do you really want to make the troops fret?" she asked him.
With a sigh he subsided back into the seat. She was right, however much it grated.
After a wait that seemed interminable, the driver relayed a message that security was confirmed and Peter gave his cousin a querying look. She sighed and nodded her consent for him to leave the car. The commander of the Twenty-Fourth Lyran Guards had a very Steiner look to her and he could understand why some spoke of her as the second-coming of his grandmother. Sabine couldn't quite have passed for Catherine - or Katherine - but stood next to either of them she would have had little trouble presenting herself as a sister and not a second-cousin.
The car was under a portico so there was only minimal exposure before Peter was inside, with Sabine following close at his heels. The two of them were led to a cathedral-ceilinged conference room, decorated in warm golds and yellows. The afternoon sun streamed through high windows, occasionally mirrored by the light of ship's fusion thrusters over the drop-port.
There were only three people waiting for the pair of them. The younger of the two men wore a formal kilt of Macleod tartan, with the uniform tunic above it bearing badges that made it clear - if there had been any doubt - that he was a Colonel of the Northwind Highlanders. The two Dragoons were both shorter and more compact, the man's hair and beard white with age, the woman beside him perhaps of an age with the two Federated Commonwealth visitors to Outreach.
"Your highness. General." Commander Jaime Wolf greeted Peter and Sabine cordially. "I trust that I have the rank right, with the changes you've been making."
Peter shook the offered hand while Sabine confirmed the rank was correct. The three-rank jump from Colonel to General had been necessary to place her in command of the Regimental Command Team once Peter Riskind moved to the Royal Guards, but no one had seriously suggested that she wasn't ready. And the political optics of Nondi Steiner's granddaughter being raised high at least suggested that all was well within House Steiner.
"Commander Wolf. General Wolf," Peter shook Maeve Wolf's hand next and finally exchanged terse bows with the Highlander, who seemed less inclined to extend a hand. "Colonel Macleod."
Wolf - the elder - gestured to the table. "Why don't we all sit down for this conversation."
Putting the table between them might be best, but Peter paused as he started pulling back one of the chairs for himself. Something about the chamber had tickled at his memory. "Should I check for a fake bomb under the table?"
Only Jaime understood, in fact Sabine straightened in some alarm, but the old mercenary chuckled drily. "So you heard that story. No, your highness. No bombs, real or fake, on this occasion."
"I didn't realise the two of you knew each other," Maeve Wolf observed. "Your file says you've never been to Outreach before, your highness."
"I haven't." Peter took his seat facing Jaime. "But Victor told me a few stories about his training here on Outreach."
"Yes." The mercenary paused. "He failed that test, though I thought for a while he had at least learned from it."
"Possibly the wrong lessons, given how poorly trying to work with Liao has worked out for him over the last decade. But we're not here to talk about Victor."
"Then what is your agenda?" asked Macleod bluntly. "Threatening us with invasion if we don't rejoin your Federated Commonwealth?"
Well, he was as blunt as reports said. The Highlander had been the garrison commander on Northwind when Sun-Tzu's agent and spectacular mismanagement by Victor's officers had led to fighting between pro-FedCom and pro-Capellan Highlanders, fighting that had deprived the Federated Commonwealth of four crack regiments, all on critical worlds. MacLeod's regiment had taken the brunt of the fighting, but they had also succeeded in driving off the Third Royal Guards, one of the same regiments Peter had faced on Tharkad.
"I don't deny the sentiment has some support among my advisors," the Archon-Prince replied, rubbing his jaw. "And I won't insult your intelligence by claiming we don't have contingency plans to force both Outreach and Northwind back into the Federated Commonwealth."
Maeve Wolf snorted. "Even with all the luck in the world, I don't like your chances."
Peter eyed her for a moment. "I'm not saying it would be easy and it would undoubtedly be expensive in lives, General. Not least because it's at least possible that Chancellor Liao would decide to honour his guarantee of Northwind's independence. On the other hand, this wouldn't be the most fortified world I've stormed, even with the Dragoons' warship squadron taken into account." And then he smiled pleasantly. "On balance, I had more driving reasons to take New Avalon and Tharkad than I have to launch into more meatgrinders like that."
"I am pleased to hear that," confirmed Jaime before either of his companions could speak up. "I take it then, that you have something other than an ultimatum in mind?"
On cue, Sabine opened her attache case and produced a pair of folders, pushing them across the table to Jaime Wolf and William MacLeod.
"These are proposed treaties recognising the independence of Northwind and of Outreach." Peter watched them open the folders. "My parents agreed to granting these worlds under terms that had… significant grey areas because they believed there was sufficient goodwill on both sides to work around that. Without seeking to lay blame, I must recognise that such goodwill is a thing of the past."
MacLeod looked up sharply. "Given the way your forces hammered Stirling's Fusiliers on Ingress, this sounds more like you're still wanting revenge."
"These hiring restrictions…" Maeve Wolf was skim-reading the treaty at an impressive speed, although it truthfully wasn't long or especially complicated. "They're not acceptable."
"What is not acceptable to you is for you to decide, General." Peter leant forwards. "The Terran Corridor is and will remain the key strategic interest of the Federated Commonwealth. I will accept your mercenary commands ruling your homeworlds but I will not accept the chaos that surrounds them and I will not accept your regiments being hired for use against the Federated Commonwealth. I will treat such a deployment as a declaration of war by your planetary governments."
"Ye cannae think we'll cut off half our potential employers!" spat the Highlander, face tight.
"You can take whatever employment you choose, Colonel. But you can no longer act as mercenaries or as planetary governments, whichever is more advantageous to you in a given circumstance. The price of your independence is responsibility."
Sabine cleared her throat. "I would point out that the treaty bars no employers, only that you may not take contracts executing or supporting offensive action against the Federated Commonwealth. Defensive contracts are unrestricted and you can even take contract with nations at war with us, as long as your regiments aren't facing us."
"So Northwind is now a hostage against us?"
"In the same way that the worlds of the Federated Commonwealth could be considered hostages against me," Peter shot back without hesitation. "And since the worlds around Northwind are the Terran Corridor I'm so concerned about, I've little choice but to recognise that leverage on your part and address it."
Maeve glanced at her senior and at some unspoken signal she looked back to Peter. "I don't see any bar to us contracting to defend worlds of the Chaos March, even against you reconquering them."
"I'd rather you didn't, but there shouldn't be anything there to say you can't. I won't make any secret of it though. I will be trying to bring those worlds back into the Federated Commonwealth so you're taking such contracts at your own risk."
"That's the nature of our business, your highness."
"And conversations like these are mine." Peter paused. "Want to trade?"
She snorted. "Not hardly."
Jaime steepled his fingers before him. "I don't imagine that you expect answers to these today."
"Hardly," Peter assured him. "I don't recall that you're a dictator, and Colonel Macleod is answerable to the Clan Elders of Northwind. I'm delivering them personally so we can take each other's measure. Take the time and have your staff review them. Some of the terms are negotiable… but others are not. There should not be any ambiguity over which are which."
"And what," Macleod asked in a dour voice, "would happen if by some reason you were persuaded to remain here to negotiate more favourable terms."
Sabine leant forwards. "In that hypothetical situation, Colonel -"
"Which is entirely hypothetical," interjected Jaime Wolf flatly. "Safe conduct of all parties is on my honour."
She nodded. "Indeed. But were such a betrayal to take place, fourteen battalions of mercenaries in the Outreach system are contracted for operations in the Chaos March. Which would include, if necessary, securing a foothold for an AFFC invasion of Outreach."
Jaime Wolf let his gaze drift from Sabine to Peter. "If necessary."
"If necessary."
"Well bargained, your highness." He held out a hand to Maeve, who handed him the paper copy of the treaty, retaining the data disk containing the electronic version. "My staff and I will review the treaty and we'll be in touch with your representatives here, if that's sufficient?"
"Of course," Peter agreed, and then looked at Macleod.
"We'll see," the mercenary grated at last. "I'll put it to the elders. How they take the threat implied…" He shrugged.
I hope you'll also persuade them that I'm not bluffing, Peter thought. Because if they mistake this for bluster then a lot of AFFC soldiers, Highlanders and Northwind civilians will pay the price. Even if Sun-Tzu's word isn't as empty as it usually seems to be.
Chapter 12
Soapstone Mountains, Irian
Free Worlds League
27 January 3065
Galen wasn't entirely unfamiliar with some of the 'Mechs he could see lined up for their final pre-acceptance inspections. After repeated efforts by IMBU execs determined to get SLDF funding for designing a brand-new 'Battlemech that would be perfect for your needs', it was a relief to get some time away from presentations and confirm for himself that Irian actually built 'Mechs.
"Thanks for getting me out of that mire," he told Isis as they exited the electric cart that had brought them to this part of the vast complex. "I owe you one."
She smiled. "Friends don't owe friends, Galen."
How long would that attitude last now that she was knee deep in politics, and wading deeper? he wondered as he looked around for Colonel Lloyd Reissing, who was supposed to be meeting them for Isis' visit.
Ostensibly Galen was only escorting her, while she carried out this public relations appearance with the Thirteenth Marik Militia. In practise, he would be able to see Irian's newest production at work and maybe even get a look inside them. His purchasing mission involved getting new 'Mechs before the end of 3065, not sometime in the 3070s which would probably be the case if Irian managed to get someone to sign off on development funding.
The ground practically shook beneath them as a towering 'Mech strode out onto the testing range. "Now that's what I'm talking about," he told Isis, taking her arm as she tried to secure her sun hat - it was a hot day and she still hadn't entirely adjusted from a Tharkad winter (which was barely distinguishable from a Tharkad spring or fall in Galen's experience, unless you picked the right place). "Now all I have to do is convince IMBU that we want 'Mechs now not a few years down the line."
Isis waited until the 'Mech - it was Tempest heavy - was a little further away and her hat was steadier before patting his arm. "That shouldn't be too hard, Galen."
"Telling them the 'customer is always right' doesn't seem to be getting any traction."
She shook her head sadly. "Galen, Galen. What am I going to do with you? The magic words are: 'Quickdraws are a reliable design with ready access to spare parts'."
"I didn't think Irian built those."
"They don't. But Technicron of Savannah do, and I have contact with them via my cousin Alys. Once they know someone else could be bidding, that's when the salesmen will get down to business."
Galen glanced aside at her. "You're doing a lot to help me."
"As Jerrard Cranston did to help me, while I was part of Omi and Victor's household."
"That's a mask I don't need to wear any more."
She smiled. "The beard suited you."
He scratched his chin, now bare after years where a beard had been part of his disguise. "Well, it got warm inside a cockpit. Even in colder weather."
"Your grace." Colonel Reissing came into view. "And Colonel Cox. Welcome to IMBU's main production plant. I hope I haven't kept you waiting long?"
"Not so very long." Isis greeted him warmly. "Thank you for taking time away from your duties to meet us personally."
"It's a pleasure, Duchess Marik." The colonel paused and then tilted his head slightly as if confiding. "And it gets me out of my own office for some cockpit time."
She laughed lightly. "Now you sound just like Victor. Doesn't he, Galen?"
"I may have heard those very words from him."
Riessing nodded in acknowledgement and gestured towards a woman with the rank pins of a Force Commander - the FWLM equivalent of a Major. "Of course, I can hardly escort you into the cockpit, your grace, but perhaps you wouldn't object to being escorted by Force Commander Moive. She runs my Second Battalion, and it's mostly her personnel working today."
Moive bowed a little stiffly towards Isis, who brushed past it to take her hand. "It's a pleasure, Force Commander. I'm not dragging you away from cockpit time, am I?"
"No," the woman allowed. "Someone has to act as an interface with the reps from Irian and since rank has its privileges…"
Reissing tapped his chest, acknowledging the hit unapologetically. "Would you like a try, Colonel? You're here to assess Irian's products for the SLDF so it would be a chance to see them from the inside out."
Galen glanced at Isis hesitantly. He was technically here as her escort, after all.
The younger woman waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine, Galen. This is your mission after all. I'm sure the Force Commander can see to my safety when we're in a secure location like this."
Well, she was old enough to know her own mind, after all. And he'd be leaving Irian sooner or later. It was silly to think he'd be following her around like an older brother guarding his little sister's virtue. "Well, I won't say no to a chance to go out and play. Do you have any more Tempests ready for testing, Colonel?" The heavy 'Mech was a similar size and mobility to the Crusader that he'd piloted through most of his career.
"I think we could find one," the FWLM officer said thoughtfully. "But I was thinking you might want to try out an Albatross."
He arched an eyebrow at that. The Albatross was thirty tons heavier than the Tempest and until fairly lately, production runs of the 'Mech had been directed towards Thomas Marik's elite Knights of the Inner Sphere. "Well, I'd be a fool to turn my nose up at a chance like that."
Reissing led him into the hangar and to a changing room where cooling vests were ready. Galen was wearing a mechwarrior's shorts and vest under his uniform against this possibility so all he had to do was remove his outer garments and hang them up in the locker provided.
"You've known our newest Duchess for a long time?" the commander of the Thirteenth asked as he removed his own uniform.
"We met on Outreach back in fifty-one, but we didn't really get to know each other until she moved to Mogyorod about… more than three years now."
"That's probably still more time than anyone from the League has spent with her since she left for Sian more than a decade ago."
Galen shrugged. "Could be."
"It's a concern given that she's chosen now as a time to return." Reissing closed the door to his locker crisply and then turned to meet the younger man's eyes. "I was a junior officer when Duncan Marik was the Captain-General… but I remember what strife within House Marik can mean."
Duncan Marik had been Thomas Marik's cousin and commander of the entire Marik Militia corps, the backbone of the Free Worlds League's federal BattleMech forces. When Thomas' father Janos suffered a stroke during the Andurien Secession, Duncan had been one of the leading candidates to succeed him only for Thomas to present documents proving he was the designated heir despite years of self-imposed exile as a ComStar Precentor. He'd even served in the Lyran Commonwealth, if Galen's memory served him well, so Isis returning in a time of uncertainty would strike some parallels.
Of course, Duncan had only become Captain-General after a bomb killed Janos, his other likely successor Duggan, and - or so it had been believed - Thomas Marik. With no other rivals, Duncan had assumed power only for Thomas to return once more - or rather, as was now known, his clone had. Under suspicion for the bombing, Duncan had died attempting to secure his power base by overcoming Andurien's defenses in a glorious but rash offensive that killed him and left the way forwards open for the current Captain-General.
"The Thirteenth supported Duncan, as I recall."
"Of course. He was our general, after all. And Thomas was an unknown. But we never acted against him either, since he was the lawful Captain-General."
"Which doesn't spare you from suspicion."
Reissing nodded. "Naturally. And now we have another potential power struggle to worry about. You can see my concerns."
Galen reached for the door and saw the other man tense. Resting his hand upon it, he pretended to stretch, preventing anyone from entering. "You have some more questions you want to ask about Isis."
"I'll put it directly. Does she think she can persuade us to march to Atreus for her?"
A chortle fought its way out of Galen's throat. "You obviously don't know how hard the Captain-General had to work just to get her to agree to return to the Free Worlds League. No, colonel. She has no such ambitions."
"And if someone has those ambitions on her behalf. She is very close to one Steiner-Davion already. As I understand it she stayed in the Archon-Prince's own residence while she was on Tharkad."
"Only after he'd relocated to the Triad." Galen tried not to show how much that allegation irritated him. "I don't believe Peter Steiner-Davion has exchanged more than a dozen words with her at any one time. And before you ask, no I don't have any clue about what marriage plans - if any - he might have."
Reissing eyed him suspiciously and then nodded. "I believe you."
"Normally I wouldn't be so direct, but since you put me on the spot, where do you stand on the matter?"
"That's a topic of much debate within the regiment."
"I'm sure it is, but you're evading the question."
The older officer sighed. "I would have a great deal of resistance if I tried to mobilise the Thirteenth to support the current Captain-General."
"And again," Galen pointed out, "You're talking about your regiment and not about yourself."
"I'm the Colonel of the Lucky Thirteenth. I can't separate myself from my regiment. I would think someone who fought through a civil war of their own would understand."
Galen sighed and then pulled the locker room door open. The conversation clearly wasn't going to go anywhere. "So, tell me about the Albatross."
Chapter 13
Arc Royal
Donegal Province, Federated Commonwealth
24 February 3065
Conner Sortek had expected to find Morgan Kell and Clovis Holstein in the former's office. And perhaps the famous Daniel Allard, current commander of the Kell Hounds, would be present. He was right about the first two but he wasn't expecting the lean figure in grey leathers that lounged against one side of his father's desk. "Khan Kell."
Phelan Kell smirked. "And they say that Clansmen cannot lay ambushes."
"Well their entire invasion was a sneak attack."
The khan threw back his head and laughed, rather than taking offense. "I was certainly taken by surprise!" He had, Conner knew, been captured by Clan Wolf in the first attacks of the invasion. How he had risen from captive to the leader of that part of the Clan who had crossed the truceline to act as defenders to the Inner Sphere was a story much dramatized by the publicists… but how accurate those renditions were, that was a question he had never yet answered.
"Behave," Morgan Kell growled, with more affection than warning in his voice… although there was some of both. "Welcome to Arc-Royal, Hauptmann Sortek. We haven't seen the Royal Guards present for a while."
The original Third Royal Guards had been posted to the Clan front a decade ago, and the former ComGuards now serving under that designation had been back to face the Jade Falcons much more recently. But perhaps that didn't count in the eyes of the legendary mercenary. "Well, we're on the move," Conner assured him. "Although in this case it's just a flying visit on my part."
"I assume that since you chose Arc-Royal to meet with recruitment candidates that you have something else in mind." The elder Kell nodded towards Clovis. "And asking for his presence confirmed it." He rose from his seat, somewhat stiffly. "We may as well sit down to talk."
The office was L-shaped, with the entrance near the corner. While Morgan's desk was backed by the window, the other end held a conference table and chairs around it. It was a practical arrangement and kept direct sunlight away from the light of the holo projector above the conference table. Morgan sat at the head of the table, flanked by Clovis and Phelan, while Conner found himself seated at the foot. Hardly less intimidating than the desk really.
"Arc-Royal is actually a convenient spot for assembling the candidates being considered for the First Royal Guards," he began. "As the centre of the Arc-Royal Defense Cordon, a lot of the military shipping lines have focused here. And then there's Clovis' work on putting the Mackie back into production here. But there are some matters that the Archon-Prince didn't want to handle via HPG."
"He doesn't trust ComStar?"
Conner shrugged. "To the extent that he confides in me, he trusts them in some things and he trusts their security somewhat less. The Word of Blake compromised their intelligence assets substantially in order to take Terra away from them, and he's not convinced that the resultant purges have actually closed all their leaks."
"It's a nasty guessing game," Clovis agreed ruefully. "I'm glad I don't have to deal with that… unless I'm wrong?"
Conner grinned and produced a data disk. "Only in that he'd like your opinion as well as Khan Kell's people's view on relocating the Trellshire Heavy Industries factory from Twycross."
"Um…" the little man looked concerned. "It's clearly doable in theory, but without the technical staff who set it up to begin with…" He looked over at Phelan.
"I suspect that I would need to draw heavily on my limited pool of technicians," the Khan said slowly. "And we have commitments. Is he expecting the Jade Falcons to try to retake Twycross? My sources indicate that they're very much done with the world - losing the Falcon Guards twice there is seen as more than just a coincidence."
"Retaking the world is one thing, but raiding the factory to capture what's built there, or remove the production line is more likely." Conner pushed the disk across the table. "And if the Falcons don't move in, there are sources suggesting that Clan Diamond Shark may take an interest in seizing it as a foothold in the Inner Sphere."
Phelan sat up sharply. "That's news to me. What is the source?"
"I can't tell you that, sir. I don't know the answer myself, but the Archon-Prince takes it seriously."
"Need to know, Phelan," his father reminded him.
"If another Clan is moving into the Inner Sphere then I think I do have need to know."
Conner shrugged and produced another data disk, hoping that this one would pacify the younger Kell to an extent. "I think the main reason the Archon-Prince wanted me to act as a courier though is this."
Phelan accepted the data disk. "Which is…?"
This was something that had been confided to Conner. "In repayment for the damage taken by your corvettes Killing Blow and Valiant during the fighting over Tharkad, the Archon-Prince offers Clan Wolf in Exile two Fox-class corvettes from those due to be laid down later this year."
The political price of that might outweigh the billions of sovereigns (the new, reunified currency of the Federated Commonwealth) that such ships cost to build. Conner was gratified to see all three men go wide-eyed at that.
"That is… extremely generous," Phelan said slowly. "I had hoped for a commitment to repair the two ships, so I have to wonder why Peter is offering me two new vessels, even if I will have to wait until… sixty-seven?"
"Sixty-eight," Conner clarified. "Arrangements for the vessels scheduled for launch through to the end of 3067 were already too advanced, but two hulls are planned to complete at Galax and the same at Alarion the following year. The Galax construction times are shorter so tentatively it would be those, although if you prefer those from Alarion it shouldn't be a problem."
"Another year might not be a bad thing," Morgan told his son. "You'll need to prepare crews."
"Yes, and training them will be an interesting challenge. But you haven't answered my question. What does Peter want?"
Conner looked at Morgan Kell. "Actually, this involves both you and your son. The Archon-Prince is very likely to be nominated as First Lord during the next Whitting Conference, and it would be politically difficult for him to decline."
"Well, he is the only alternative to Thomas Marik, who would be a disastrous choice at this stage."
"As it was explained to me," Conner said carefully. That had not been a fun briefing, and he could fully understand now why his father had wanted to steer clear of politics wherever possible. "Without the Clans as an outside threat, there's a certain perspective that the Second Star League has served its purpose."
"What?" Phelan's voice was low and dangerous.
"During some backroom negotiations during the last conference, the Captain-General suggested that the Star League's new role would be in constraining the reunited Federated Commonwealth. But with Peter as First Lord, the concern would be that he would abuse the office as some of his predecessors did, and try to turn himself into a permanent first-among-equals."
Clovis sighed. "Is he?"
"I really don't think so. He told me he'd pass up election if he could, but the hit to his prestige would be too high. However, there's a real possibility that Sun-Tzu or whoever holds the Marik seat by the time it matters will pull out rather than have a Steiner-Davion elected."
"So what does he want?"
"It's political."
"Dammit, I am really tempted to pass up the corvettes." Phelan sighed. "In more detail?"
"Right at the moment, he wants to stack the Star League Council with as many other delegations as possible, so that anyone who tries to leave will face diplomatic and economic isolation. It also means that many more votes that will be available to anyone trying to constrain him."
"Does he want to lame the office?" asked Morgan seriously.
"Given the way Sun-Tzu abused it to retake St Ives, and Theodore Kurita did the same to annex the Lyons Thumb, that might not be a bad idea. In any case, he's trying to encourage more periphery realms to get involved, and given how friendly Christian Mansdottir and Ragnar Magnusson were at the last conference, it would be no surprise if Clan Ghost Bear was sharing that seat at the next conference. If that goes through, it's likely that Clan Nova Cat will also request a seat."
"Don't tell me that he wants me to apply for membership?" Phelan looked appalled. "I do remember how much of a problem it was for my father to attend back at the first Whitting Conference. He almost had to get married again."
Morgan sighed heavily. "Please don't remind me. Candace Liao is a fine woman but neither of us is interested in remarrying."
"Unless you can reunite Clan Wolf entirely, it's unlikely you'd be able to make a convincing claim for a seat of your own," Conner reassured the Khan. "And as long as the Khan of the Crusader Wolves is Vladimir Ward…"
"Not happening," Phelan agreed with a gratified look. "Finally a silver lining to that cloud. Actually, remind me to give you our latest data on the Clans' supply movements for Peter's intelligence staff. And maybe his intelligent staff too, if he has any. The Falcons' new saKhan seems more focused on the other Clans, which opened up some cracks for us to gather information. Vlad is pulling a lot of resources out of the Homeworlds. If he is serious about launching a new invasion after the original Truce deadline expires in 3067 - and I think he is - then he has large plans for it."
"Actually, what Peter was hoping was that you would approach the Wolf Dragoons and the Northwind Highlanders about forming a joint delegation, to represent the mercenary trade. After all, while your Clan aren't mercenaries, you and they have all contributed heavily to the SLDF's activities since the Star League was reformed. It's not so unreasonable that you should be represented since the Blakists are and they only really control Terra. The Dragoons and Highlanders each have their own homeworld and Peter's negotiating a treaty that will recognise their independence."
"That's quite a concession on his part." Clovis rubbed his stubby fingers together. "About the kindest words he had for them back during the Civil War was 'disloyal'."
Conner nodded, ignoring the slightly startled looks on Morgan and Phelan's faces. "That's part of the reasoning. He feels they'll be all the more appealing as a potential vote against him if they have a clear use for the Star League as a guarantor that he'll hold to the treaty."
Phelan glanced at his father and then sighed. "I suppose it makes some sense. I have spent some time on Outreach, so if we contact Jaime Wolf he can act as an intermediary for bringing in the Northwind Highlanders."
"Look on the bright side," Clovis noted. "At least with McCarron's Armored Cavalry now part of the regular CCAF, you don't have to worry about Sun-Tzu trying to wrangle them a place in your delegation."
Conner noted that the two Kells found that idea just as horrifying as he did.
Chapter 14
Kirin River, Irian
Free Worlds League
5 March 3065
Isis watched the video message flip to the end of message logo. It was vaguely disconcerting to her that here in the Free Worlds League the logo represented the Word of Blake rather than ComStar. She'd known that they'd taken over the HPGs here in 3052, but her time in the Capellan Confederation and Federated Commonwealth had meant that her communications had continued to be delivered by Focht's branch of the schismed HPG operators, and even when messages originated in the League, they'd carefully stripped any representation from their rivals from how messages were packaged.
Using the remote wand, she activated the intercom for her mansion. Her home, although it would probably take more than a few months for her to get used to it. "Olive, please pack my bags for an absence of several weeks." On affirmation from her maid, she contacted her secretary to arrange passage. Having a staff to arrange these matters for her was comforting - years without that support had given her confidence that she could probably manage without, but the time and effort that they saved her was well worth the cost.
And these were her staff, not provided by her supposed-father or supposed-fiance. Or, for that matter, borrowed from one of the Steiner-Davions.
Isis was about to make another call when the video-phone pinged that she had another inbound call. Caller identification took a second longer before Galen Cox's name appeared on the screen where she'd just replayed the earlier message.
"Galen," she greeted him as his face appeared. "I was just about to call you."
He nodded. "Then we have good timing. I was afraid that I'd be catching you in the middle of something."
"It's too urgent to wait until dinner tomorrow?" They'd scheduled that to celebrate his closing the deal with Irian. The final paperwork should have been signed this morning for twelve 'Mechs of three different types, as well as a supply of parts to keep them upgraded. As she'd predicted, Irian had focused in on getting an immediate deal once Galen mentioned the possibility of offering a deal to Technicron instead. The discussion of prices had been similarly fraught until Galen had dangled an options clause for further purchasing. Sigmund Hughes wasn't going to see the prospect of ongoing profits from SLDF sales be lost over a couple of million C-bills and had overruled Rivarez.
"Unfortunately, I'm going to have to cancel," Galen told her. His regret sounded sincere. "I received orders today from the Commanding General to secure the deal here - job done already, as it happened - and proceed with all haste to Atreus. Apparently the political situation is blowing up there and he wants me to back-up our staff there in case the SLDF gets called to intervene."
Isis nodded. "I was about to call you for the same reason. I just received a formal summons from the Speaker of the House, requiring me to attend as a witness for an impeachment hearing or provide reasons why I could not. I didn't expect the question of the Captain-General's identity to boil over like this, not unless one of the Mariks broke rank."
However little some of the House might be offended that they'd been accepting the leadership of an imposter, the Prince of Regulus had some legal validity in his corner if it could be proven that the Mariks had supported someone outside their ranks for the office. The Mariks had first refusal on the post, so once one outsider had been elected then there was scope for another and the one thing that virtually every member of House Marik agreed on was that Kirc Cameron-Jones would take the Captain-Generalcy over their dead bodies.
Isis wasn't quite as opposed, but only because she doubted the Regulan prince would really object to those exact circumstances. If it came down to it, she felt it was better to survive and fight another day than to die just to give Cameron-Jones a little satisfaction.
"I'm guessing it was a very short message," Galen told her, shaking his head. "The impeachment isn't over his identity. Kirc Cameron-Jones has presented evidence of massive embezzlement on contracts where the Word of Blake was involved."
"...pardon?"
He shrugged. "It's an open secret that Thomas was offering financial support to the Word of Blake in organising their Militia during the early 3050s."
"Well, yes." She did remember something of that. "It was a quid pro pro for technical support, but didn't Parliament - or the defense committee at least - sign off on that, since the Word of Blake Militia would essentially count as an additional provincial force in the event of war?"
"That's right," Galen agreed. "But in addition to that, they were also siphoning off a few percent on their commissions for various contracts, with his tacit blessing."
Isis nodded slowly. "I take it that it was more than the usual degree of governmental corruption?"
"Let me put it this way: I'm a Lyran and even I'm shocked."
She rubbed her face. Galen was a long way from the stereotypical money-grubbing Lyran, but even so, he had to have seen a lot of corruption during his time in the AFFC. "Just how bad is it?"
"I don't know for sure. Victor got reports when he was Archon-Prince that Thomas Marik had agreed to wink at up to three percent. But when he raised the matter, Cameron-Jones claimed that it's closer to fifteen percent."
"Fifteen - !" She realised she was half shrieking and tamped down on her words, taking a deep breath. "Those contracts are worth billions! Even if it's just on the commissions… dear god, that's a fortune." It made the SLDF deal with Irian pale by comparison. "How could anyone have hidden that?!"
"The Blakists do control essentially all the FWLM's interstellar communications. If they'd broken their codes - or been given them out right - then they could have doctored the numbers that everyone was getting."
Isis tried to sit down and then realised that she was doing so anyway. "Surely an audit would turn it up?"
Galen nodded. "That's why the Regulan MPs have called for documentation to be couriered from every major military contractor to Atreus and for a full and independent comparison between those accounts and the military's. If they're right then the difference will be in the hundreds of millions."
"More like billions." The FWLM wasn't as large as the AFFC but it was still millions of soldiers strong and fielded one of the largest warship fleets anywhere, and the Word of Blake had been involved in modernisation of that force for over a decade. The sheer scale of the finances were mind-boggling. "My god."
"They may not be able to prove that the Captain-General was involved," the blond offered, in scant comfort.
Isis made a dismissive gesture. "Either he didn't know and he's incompetent, or he did know and they can bring treason charges. Unless the audit shows that the money isn't being taken, the Captain-General is finished. And I can't honestly think that Cameron-Jones would bring this up unless he was certain. He'd look like an utter fool if he was wrong."
"Are you sure you want to go into that mess?"
"If I don't, I'm abdicating all ability to do anything to mitigate it," she replied. "Do you have travel arrangements yet?"
Galen shook his head. "My next call is the spaceport. I'll have to travel commercial."
"I've already got my secretary looking for seats, you can travel with me." Isis gave him a crooked smile, looking for something positive. "Dropship food is terrible, but we can put a raincheck on our meal until we get to Atreus. There have to be some decent restaurants there."
"We might have a narrow window of opportunity, before the hearings," Galen warned. "But sure. It's a date."
Isis was almost certain that her cheeks didn't redden at that phrasing. Almost.
"If he is out, do you have any idea who's likely to replace him?"
She shook her head. "That's the problem. Normally, I'd say Corinne was the most likely candidate but if the Word of Blake is tarred by a scandal, that's likely to impact her as well. In that case Kirc Cameron-Jones is going to press his own candidacy and there's Photon in the wings. Best case, Thomas abdicates in favour of one of them and throws his support to them in return for a pardon. At least that would let him leave office with some dignity and keep his family safe."
"Do you think that that's likely?"
Thinking back to the man she'd met on Tharkad, Isis winced. "Unfortunately, no."