Retribution
ISV Paul Atredies
High Antallos Orbit
Antallos System, Periphery Space
20 June 2006/861 AS
"Are they ready?" Merlow asked.
"Certainly, sir. They're loading up on a transport now." Comms responded.
This was it. The first foray of Earth's wet work teams into the Inner Sphere proper. The mission was simple: prepare the city for the ISA's arrival. Current force composition, defensive capabilities, response times, coordination and detection capabilities, they needed it all. The ISA still had a few officers planet-side for the teams to make contact with. From there, further intelligence would be gathered and relayed to ISA command before the invasion, preparing their forces for planet-fall. After intelligence gathering, the teams were then to engage in sabotage and subversion, creating as many problems for Port Kirin's defense as they could. If they could turn any of them before their forces arrived, it would make things much better.
Plans were already in place for post-contact military and intelligence deployments, focusing on spreading their influence and locking down any potential military resistance. Civilian infrastructure overhaul was top priority, along with salvage recovery operations. Thanks to the source books, there were known sites of battle on the planet that could yield valuable 'Mechs and equipment for study. The Star League seemed to have existing infrastructure from centuries ago that the various city-states were patching into. Gaining control of those sites were essential to streamline any infrastructure efforts. Raising the quality of life and even establishing agricultural and industrial concerns to employ the populace were on the list to engender a positive view of the ISA on the populous. Governing a grateful people was much easier than governing a fearful one.
The creation of a proper law enforcement division and civil services on Antallos would be difficult, but that would be in time, after general resistance had been stifled and trust in the new government had been established. The ISA Constabulary was already prepared with a plan to establish an Antallos branch. The Office of Civil Administration were creating plans for their initial services as the covert teams left his vessel. All of this hung on the success of the wet work teams and the invasion forces afterward. There would be no messing about. There would be no holding back. The ISA and Earth were going to deploy an overwhelming coordinated force to Antallos and demonstrate to the galaxy at large that there was a new player. The Draconis Combine, the Federated Suns, and ComStar were about to be put on notice.
Minutes later, a transport full of some of Earth's finest intelligence officers departed on one of the Paul Atredies many stealth transports. Merlow smiled.
Show these children how adults get things done.
Imperial Palace
Luthien
Luthien System, Draconis Combine Space
25 June 3021
"Unacceptable!" shouted Takashi Kurita, Coordinator and unquestioned ruler of the Draconis Combine. He glared at his advisors who looked on with various mixtures of cowering fear, zen-like stoicism, and even outright concern. The Coordinator pointed to the holographic map of the Combine. Four points of light pulsed a deathly white among the Combine's red stars. "Outpost! Nykvarn! Herndon! And now Linqing! I want this upstart pirate and his band of degenerates dead!"
"Honored Dragon, it is not so easy." spoke up a nervous Kester Hsiun. He was the Warlord of the Pesht District and had the misfortune of being on Luthien when the worlds under his responsibility were being attacked. It looked for all the galaxy like dereliction of duty. "This Redjack Ryan has been restricting his attacks to minor worlds with garrisons that he knows will be inadequate to stop him. Simply responding to an attack means that our heroic forces arrive long after he leaves. Trying to spread our forces out to enough worlds to catch him would mean that we would spread ourselves too thin to destroy him, and we can't concentrate our forces ahead of him if we don't know where he will strike next."
"Actually," the much-feared Director of the ISF, Subhash Indrahar spoke up thoughtfully, staring at the holo map. "I think I can guess where Ryan will be in four or five week's time."
"How would you do that?" Hsiun asked, clearly mystified.
"Look at the placement of each attacked world and consider the timing," Indrahar said. "The worlds are placed in a nearly straight line four jumps apart. Accounting for the extra recharge time required for using pirate points and the transit times of Dropships, that easily explains the six-week intervals between attacks. Honored lords, Redjack Ryan is going somewhere and the raids on our worlds are merely supply runs to restock on consumables."
"And where," Takashi began, "do you think he is going?"
"Antallos," Indrhar said, smiling.
"Port Kirin?" Hsiun grunted, now showing a bit of outrage and anger himself. "We should have cleaned up that pirate's nest years ago. Why would he be heading there?"
"I can only speculate," Indrahar said. "but I think he's heard rumors of this 'Motherlode' and is going for a piece of the lostech prize."
"I thought you told me that this 'Motherlode' was a myth," Takashi said dangerously.
"What I told you, Honored Coordinator, was that I believed it to be a fabrication of the Port Krin Administrator," Indrahar said smoothly. "It would seem that Redjack Ryan would beg to disagree."
"Then if Ryan is heading to Port Krin," Takashi said, "the Dragon will meet him there and show him the error of his ways before he can flit off again. What forces do we have that can meet him there?"
Royal Palace
Avalon City, New Avalon
New Avalon Combat Region, Federated Suns Space
30 June 3021
"So, Port Krin? Are you sure?"
"Yes, your highness. The DCMS is making little secret of its troop movements however hard they try to hide the fact that they've been attacked in their own backyard. Redjack Ryan seems to be deliberately drawing a straight line to the place. It fits."
"Hmm… maybe we should be looking into these Motherlode rumors some more. My people over at the NAIS are going gaga over that little computer they got last week. One of them is even proclaiming that it's 'alien technology'."
"So, what do you intend, Highness?"
"I'm thinking we need to do a little recon in force. I hear Port Krin's nice this time of year…"
United States Intelligence Wing
Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
6 July 2006/861 AS
Mary Pat had an idea. Despite all the operations and focus directed towards Antallos, there was a very important matter being overlooked: The memory cores. In the source material, there these caches of Star League data that contained all the information needed to construct and manufacture Star League technology. Now, according to all accounts the ISA's technology had already surpassed the Star League by an order of magnitude, but there were still important pieces of data that could be useful to them and to the ISA as a whole. Maybe there were techniques in the manufacture that would help streamline and improve their processes. Perhaps there were further insights into their computer systems, ones that would help patch any deficiencies the ISA may have. Also, weapons technology, armor technology, methods to make things more lightweight. Even the ISA were struggling with that.
Mary Pat put together a proposal to deploy a couple of teams out to find these caches. If anyone was to possess them and disseminate their findings throughout the Inner Sphere, it should be them. The proposal was simple: deploy a couple of DropShips and JumpShips and make their way to the systems described for their memory cores. Bashar Scarman liked the idea and ran with it, approving the transfer of three Gesserit-class stealth cruisers. Full ISA crews with Earth operators for the planet-side deployments. All she needed was the right people for the teams. The Russians picked the lead of one team, the US would lead another, the ISA proper would handle the last. She had just the person in mind.
Her intercom beeped, indicating her guest had arrived. Silently, she opened the door allowing her guest to enter.
"Please, come in."
In walked Sam Fisher, one of her former officers gone NSA. She knew that the National Security Agency was working on getting a wet work division operational, and they had picked away Sam to lead those efforts. She wanted him back.
"Ma'am." Fisher sat down in front of her.
"Good to have you back with us, Sam. I hope the people at Meade haven't dulled your edge."
"Hardly." Sam readjusted himself in the chair, "What's the assignment?"
"Here." She handed across a tablet, "I expect that you and your team will be more than capable of handling this."
Sam looked over the information "…Memory cores? Ma'am, I'm decently familiar with the BattleTech universe, and these helped the Inner Sphere get back on its feet before the Clans hit."
"You're not wrong, Sam, but we need this tech more than the rest of the Inner Sphere does."
"If you say so, Ma'am." Fisher browsed the details further, "Oh, we're getting a trade delegation attached to us."
"Correct. We want to see if we can sell some gear to some of the planets along the way." MP replied.
"Why aren't we just loading up in a stealth cruiser and making our way there at breakneck speed?"
"You're going to be operating in a sovereign nation, and it seems prudent to have a proper cover. It will also allow us to see about establishing proper trade channels with nations across the Sphere. Not as good as a diplomatic cover, but it will get you there all the same."
"So, we're being assigned a Union and an Invader along with the, what is it called, Gesserit-class?"
"Yes. By the time you head out, the upgrades should be ready for the KF drives on the JumpShips. They won't travel nearly as far as the jump drives on the Gesserits, but the drive will charge as fast and that cruiser will be tasked with protecting you, so that won't be an issue."
"Do I have full discretion when it comes to selecting my team?"
"There are only two requirements: Meade wants Anna Grímsdóttir assigned to your team, and the team needs to be international."
"I see." Sam pondered the requirements a moment, "Are there already recommendations from the other nations?"
"They all have a short list. Work with the Russian and ISA leads on this to assemble your teams."
"Understood." Sam stood up to leave.
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"Can you tell Meade to stop their Third Echelon program? Bill's not listening to me, and we handle wet work. The Agency will accept all officers that dissolving that program leaves hanging."
Fisher smiled, "I don't think he'll be very happy with that, Ma'am."
"If he doesn't, I'll talk to the President then."
Fisher shook his head, "I'll let him know."
"Thank you, Sam."
The pair shook hands and Fisher left the room. Mary Pat Foley was left alone to ponder her thoughts.
Being the saviors of the galaxy. Jesus Christ.
International Training Center
Fort Irwin, California
15 July 2006/3021/861 AS
On the parade field, battalions of soldiers stood in formation. In front of each battalion formation stood their commanding officers and the guidon bearer. Each guidon proclaimed their battalion's name and function, be they infantry, 'MechWarrior, tanker, or pilot. In front of them to either side of the podium were the bleachers, holding observers, reporters, family members, as well as the 'civilian consultants' attached to them. At the podium stood their commanding officer, facing his people to address them.
"Soldiers of the ISA First Combined Army," their CO began, "welcome to the International Training Center. For those of you who don't know me, I am your new commanding officer, General Don Davis. No, I am not the guy from the TV show."
There was a rumbling of chuckles from the soldiers and the audience.
"This is a historic moment in the history of our world." Davis continued, "The First Army is the first multinational military this world has ever seen. We are not just a coalition of forces thrown together from the units of national militaries. We are a truly integrated force, combing soldiers from many nations from top to bottom. We are the best the world has to offer."
"Look at the person next to you and you have a very good chance of seeing a fellow soldier whose nationality may not be the same as your own, whose culture may have been opposed to yours just a year ago. They even may not have been born on the same planet as you but know this: We are united as never before. United to defend our world from the forces of a hostile and greedy galaxy that thinks nothing of wiping out civilizations for momentary gain."
"That brings us here today. We are about to embark upon an expedition the likes of which our world has never seen. The eyes of the world are upon us. With the help of our friends in the rest of the Independent Systems Alliance, we will bring vengeance upon those who wish us harm. We will bring the hammer of civilization and change the galaxy forever. On our shoulders rest the future of our world. How we fight will determine our place. Will we beat back the darkness, the centuries of stagnation that have ravaged the Inner Sphere? I say yes."
"So, we will train. We will be ready. The lives of every person on the planet, dare I say every person in the Inner Sphere depends on us."
"Good luck, and Godspeed."
"Okay people listen up! For those of you who don't know me, my name is Dana Zumross. For the next four weeks, you can call me 'Ma'am,' 'Boss,' or 'God.' I will be in charge of making sure your training is as realistic as possible without actually using live ammo or killing any of you outright, but if any of you piss me off you will wish you had been. Understood?"
There was some incoherent mumbling from the assembled soldiers.
"I can't hear you. I said, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?"
"YES, MA'AM!"
"Good. Latest intel indicates primary resistance will be from a company of mostly light and medium BattleMechs along with whatever forces Port Kirin can scrounge up. Naturally, the question came up: How do you properly simulate an OpFor when all the 'Mechs available are being used by one side? They have to be on one side, otherwise you can't properly train combined arms with them. So, here's the solution."
At Zumross' signal, a… thing rolled up behind her. It looked like an old tank chassis. The turret was gone. In its place was a wood and steel mockup of a 'Mech covered in MILES sensors.
"This is your enemy people. This ''Mech' will simulate just about any function a real 'Mech can do short of jumping around. Despite its appearance, it is not cheap. So, 'Mech jockeys, tankers: No ramming, no melee, and for the love of God no Death from Above bullshit. The only physical attacks will be by infantry practicing explosives placement. Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good. So, in accordance with a tradition that goes back to at least the Roman Empire, the OpFor will be tougher than what is expected at Antallos. That means there will be at least a battalion of our friends here with vehicle and infantry support defending our little city in the desert. Expect even more than that. The ''Mechs' will also be simulating heavies and assaults of random models."
A subliminal groan ran through the crowd.
"But wait! There's more! The OpFor 'Mechs will also be armed with what our best estimates of what Star League technology is capable of. Oh, and the heat simulator for them has been disabled as well, but yours hasn't." A hand went up, "Yes, Captain."
"Ma'am," the Captain began, "I understand training harder, but aren't we going a bit overboard here?"
"Not in the slightest, Captain. Just think of it like a video game where the computer always cheats."
Port Kirin
Antallos
Antallos System, Periphery Space
20 July 2006/3021/861 AS
Gusts of wind from the nearby waterfront blew swaths of dust across the city's road checkpoint where a group of people huddled in line, waiting to pass. They wore rag-tag paramilitary clothes in half a dozen different sets of camouflage and wide-cut robes made for the desert climate of Antallos. Each of them carried a large backpack and two worn suitcases. To the experienced eyes of the older men who made their living at the city-state's 'customs agency,' more a bribe collections service, the newcomers looked deadly. Mercenaries most likely, guns for hire. Nothing out of the ordinary at Port Kirin. Their leader paid the 'fees.' Two minutes later the men at the checkpoint already forgot the newcomers even existed.
"Jesus H. Christ, thank God we're done with those other cities, eh?" Sergeant Percival 'Percy' Braiden exclaimed with a sigh of relief. The others were rough to say the least, so the relative luxury of the planet's only spaceport seemed much better in comparison.
"Alright everyone," Captain James McCann called to his squad, "check your gear. Keep your wallets close and your weapons closer. Same as before, low profile, eh?" He turned to a member of the squad, "Sergeant, has our contact confirmed with us?"
"Sir, a vehicle is already en route." Replied Sergeant Netta Yemima. She motioned to a nearby building for them to gather at.
"Who are we meeting, again?" Asked Lieutenant Samuel Morgenstern.
"ISA Officer, goes by Najjar." Replied Sergeant Titus O'Neil, "Did you pay attention at all?"
"The good Lieutenant is too busy gawking at the working women to pay attention." Remarked Lieutenant Aaron David.
That minute a nondescript van pulled up alongside the squad. The driver simply nodded to Captain McCann, who motioned the rest of them to get in.
When Yemima and McCann reentered waiting van after a half hour, they smelled of alcohol.
"If you had told us there was a party, we would have come with you, helping you carry your burden you know," Kiyoshi Youta remarked dryly. The inconspicuous Japanese national was the team's sniper, one of the five best marksmen of the JSDF.
"The bank's chairman personally wanted to express his gratitude about our generous deposit so Yemima and I got a dose of his personal brandy," McCann explained matter-of-factly. "Not quite like a good Scottish single malt, but passable," the team leader shrugged innocently.
"Refusing the invitation would have been impolite." Yemima added evenly.
The van pulled into a nondescript building less than half a kilometer away from Vorax's palace and the local garrison's barracks. The piece of real estate had been the best spot they could find to accommodate all the members of the operation.
To any ordinary passerby in the narrow streets of Port Kirin the group of gossiping people would have looked completely inconspicuous. Farm hands came to the city to spend their month's wages in the brothels or gambling dens. Small time off-world merchants tried to make a fortune here. Low level criminals tried to get in good with the local undesirables, maybe worked their way into one of the local crime organizations. Port Kirin tended to attract those kinds of people, chew them up and leave them to rot in the back alleys. The aforementioned criminals didn't like newcomers. They were a danger to stability, to established business and zones of influence. All of that went through the heads of those who did not outright ignore the newcomers.
What no one realized that beneath the banter was the latent potential for violence each one of these individuals had as they closely watched their surroundings. Beneath the robes was danger, and those who would cross them would find that out the hard way.
International Training Center
Fort Irwin, California
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
20 July 2006
Chloe Sullivan smoothed her jeans over. It was a nervous action. She was a rookie, only hired by the Post a scant two months before the first 'pirate invasion'. She had no idea what to say or do when confronted with the First Lady of the United States. She didn't even have the comfort of the professional looking business casual suit-and-skirt she typically wore, which at least projected a confident image. She had instead dressed for rough and tumble fieldwork, since the primary subject for the project was a hands-on mechanic types and they planned to meet her on her turf. So, Chloe had opted for jeans and a navy-blue windbreaker over a plain white cotton T-shirt, nothing out of the ordinary on the garage floor. Practical, and appropriate for the job, but it made her feel horribly underdressed. It had been bad enough when she did the meet and greet with the august Ph.D.s that Bob Holtzman had tapped for the Antallos Project the day before and felt like a child at the adults table. The prospect of meeting the first lady in jeans was giving her an anxiety attack.
She hadn't foreseen the prestige factor in all this. Chloe had virtually fought a one-woman war against the corporation that had all but turned her hometown into a company town, down to ownership of the local banks and grocery stores and ran the local farms halfway into the ground with poor safety and environmental standards that poisoned crops and livestock. She'd stood up in court and accused powerful men. But she still found herself as giddy as a schoolgirl at the prospect of meeting Catherine Ryan, the 2004 Time magazine woman of the year, touted as an example to the working women of America, as the only first lady to have a career, and a distinguished one at that, beyond her husband's political ambitions. Her cousin Lucy had called it a step in the right direction and predicted that a female president wouldn't be long behind now.
The thought brought a numbed sense of sorrow. Lucy would have loved all of this; meeting the first lady and creating the media that would bring the socioeconomic and political realities of the new world into the public attention. But Lucy was dead, killed in the renewed rounds of fighting that had broken out in the Democratic Republic of Congo after the second pirate invasion had resulted in the temporary collapse of the government and almost another civil war. Chloe's ever-impulsive cousin had volunteered for a two-year stint as an aid worker, administering vaccinations in a part of the country considered 'relatively safe'.
Thinking of aid work brought Chloe's mind back to the inner sphere, where, if what she had read was correct, billions lived under the whims of oligarchs not dissimilar to the regimes that Lucy had so deplored in Africa. The best thing she could do for her cousin would be to give the people of Earth reason to empathize with that suffering and help open the way to bringing the ideals Lucy held so dear to an audience wider than any would have dared imagined just scant years ago. She had pled a struggling town's case to a nation. Now she would plead Antallos' and by extension, the Inner Sphere's, to the world, and possibly set millions more on the path of service and mercy that Lucy had given her life to. Suddenly, meeting the first lady didn't seem such a big thing, against the enormity of what the notes she held in her hands represented.
"I can't give you a burial," she whispered to the childhood playmate she had lost, "but I can give you a crusade."
There was a time in Joe Chalmer's life when he had thought of a wrench primarily as something you used to tighten up nuts and bolts. That time seemed like a distant eon ago; it had only taken a week of a Laisa happily reunited with her favorite toy to disabuse him of any such notion. He was quickly beginning to understand why the Antallan girl treated the wrench as such a valued heirloom. In addition to functioning in the standard role of such a tool, its construction was not steel but some alloy that conducted almost as well as silver, and the adjustable span could be made to fit between the wiring of most standardized components in Inner sphere machinery. Instead of going for a spool of wire like a sane woman, the lass from Port Krin was apt to just jam the wrench in to temporarily connect a circuit without so much as turning the power off first, trusting in insulated rubber gloves to protect her from electrocution. Nor was she shy about using the instrument as a makeshift prybar or hammer; the thoughtful long dead designer had balanced it to allow such use. Like more a few mechanics Joe knew, Laisa was an adherent of the 'try hitting it first, maybe that'll shake something loose' school of thought.
Currently, the tail end of wrench was beings used to "sweep" out gunk from a salvaged air scrubber, while the tool's owner cursed the former owner of the air scrubber, whatever dummkopf who was in theoretically in charge of maintaining it (theoretically, since he had clearly never made a practice of maintenance) when it was in the hands of aforementioned owner, and their mothers, who were, if he was following her profanity correctly, possessed of more venereal diseases than he knew existed. Which, after having been assigned to keep an eye on the girl for over a month, he knew to mean that she was in a good mood. If she were truly aggrieved, she would be insulting the equipment itself. That was good. Joe had just received orders to drag her away from her tinkering, and he didn't want the invective directed at him.
"Laisa" He said softly, staying at a respectful distance. He'd learned the hard way that it was always a good idea to keep his distance from the jury-rig-happy mechanic, as she hadn't developed the habit of making her work space safe for observers or visitors. She was used to others knowing well enough to keep clear of anything undergoing maintenance. Joe had narrowly avoided getting a fairly high concentration of acid dumped on him, and an intel-weenie from some agency he had never heard of did got a fairly painful dose of electroshock therapy when he failed to warn her of his approach. Though he wasn't so sure that last one was an accident. The guy was an oily bastard, rude on top of that, and almost everyone he'd interviewed had expressed a desire to cause him bodily harm.
Laisa turned, noticing him. 'Oh, Joe. Sorry, I didn't see you. Hold on a moment." She extracted her wrench, and laid the equipment aside, then went for a rag to clean up. "What brings you here so early in the morning? Thought you liked your beauty sleep."
Joe bit back a retort. Laisa needled him mercilessly and explaining that he was up almost as early as she was would only give her more ammunition. "Someone at a much higher pay grade than my own humble self decided that you're apparently interesting enough to merit an interview. Some people are coming to talk to you in a few hours, so I figured I'd give you a heads up."
The young woman made a face. "Another one? I thought I must have told my entire life's story the last time. I had better at least get a tub of ice cream for this one."
Joe shook his head at her exaggeration. She really was cute when she pretended to be upset so she could make outrageous claims and demands. "No, not a debrief; an interview, as in news interview. Congrats, girl, you're going to be on TV. Now remember me when you're all rich and famous, kay?"
"On TV? On the screen in front of millions of viewers?" Laisa started to lie back her hair.
"That's the word. People here are curious about what life is like on other worlds, and you'll get to tell them."
"I don't have anything to wear! My hair is a mess…" she fretted. Then she looked down at herself. An oil-stained blue collared shirt and denim jeans already worn to fading around the knees. "Oh, Jesus, I'm a mess."
She might be from another planet, but she was still a human. Joe suppressed his urge to laugh, knowing she wouldn't appreciate it. "Don't worry, there'll be an expert camera crew. Hell, probably a make-up crew. It'll be fine."
"But I don't know what to say. I'm not good at talking to people." She was wringer her hands in worry now. "Now machines are fine, I can talk to machines…"
Joe sighed and mentally resigned himself to spending the next hour reassuring the near frantic girl.
It was almost amusing the alacrity with which the guard waved them through once the Secret Service handed over his credentials. To Arnold Dane PhD it almost made the preceding few minutes of arguing with them over his admittance worthwhile. The Professor of Cultural Anthropology has been delighted when he was asked to contribute to the Antallos Project, not to mention winning the mini-lottery to be picked as one of the experts to accompany Ms. Sullivan and her crew. The initial confusion of being held at the gate did not do much for his disposition, but his mood was improving. He had heard that Bob Holtzman had pitched the project to the President but did not realize that the First Lady had taken interest. Her being here was doing wonders for military cooperation. Cathy Ryan had delegating one of the flabbergasted MPs at the gate to park his car and asked Dane to join herself and Sullivan for the ride down to the internment center. He figured it would be smooth sailing from here forward.
"So, Dr. Dane," the First Lady asked, "what's your initial impression on the sociocultural state of the Inner Sphere?"
"It's difficult to say, umm…" Dane paused, unsure of how to properly address her.
Cathy smiled, "Dr. Ryan. I do have an MD after all. The press never seems to remember that."
"It's because political writers think of you as the First Lady first, and doctor second." Sullivan explained, "Time got it right in their Woman of the Year issue, though. Hopefully we'll fix that soon enough."
"Thank you." Ryan nodded to the journalist, "Dr. Dane, please continue."
"Well, the issue is complex. While there is some common culture across the Inner Sphere, thanks to the integration of the various powers into the 'Star League' at some point in the past, each of the major Houses developed their own values, customs, and mores. This breaks down further when you consider each individual planet. Furthermore, there's the issue of recognizing the difference between the official line and the reality on the ground. The Federated Suns for example. They are theoretically set up as a feudalistic monarchy but in practice they seem to have many elements reminiscent of what we think of as a centralized national government. At best, I'm only hoping to get a picture of life on Antallos. The political and socioeconomic forces of the Inner Sphere are something we won't be able to understand in a holistic matter without much more data than we already have. That is part of the reason for this exercise, isn't it? Convincing the people on the street that we need to engage with the Inner Sphere."
The pair of women exchanged a glance.
"He'll do." Ryan pronounced.
Port Kirin
Antallos
Antallos System, Periphery Space
21 July 2006/3021/861 AS
An essential part of this initial reconnaissance mission was getting to know the city better than the ISA's cursory efforts. Given the tight timeframe they were working in, they were thankful that most of the major mapping work had been done by the ISA's initial intelligence efforts. Their job now was to determine exact enemy strength and concentrations of notable activity. To that end, the small house recently purchased yesterday had been transformed into their forward operating base. Electronic countermeasures were installed all over the building, surveillance was established in the local area, near invisible drones deployed to get a solid aerial picture of the city in real time.
Three teams were deployed throughout the city, using the latest in ISA scanning technology to highlight points of interest and look for problem areas their forces would have to deal with. This was much more in-depth than their work in previous cities, given the luxury of an advance team.
Netta Yemima and Aaron David were one such team, the two Sephardic Jews hardly sticking out between the locals, save their height. The air in the narrow back alleys was sticky and sour, filled with smoke from hundreds of chimneys, sweat, garbage, and feces. It stank but was easier to stand than what they had seen at the slave markets. Humans herded like cattle, sold like prized sows. It was the face of barbarism, of every sort of moral decay. Compared to that, the back alleys were normal. It reminded the pair of them the times they had been in Gaza, which was just as if not more crowded than Port Kirin's more run-down districts.
They turned a corner into the next street of Port Kirin's maze of back alleys. They found themselves face to face with a near two-and-a-half-meter tall giant of a man, reinforced by a band of rabble rousers behind him. It was one of Port Kirin's innumerable street gangs. It's leader, while as tall as a mountain, was hardly twenty-five years old.
"Oi, fellas, nice gear ya got'ere! What'cha think? Ya hand it over and what money ya got and me and me buddies 'ere will let ya pass and keep ya protected." He slapped a large club into the palm of his left hand to emphasize his point.
David sighed. In a swift motion, he struck the ganger in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of the man. Without hesitation, he landed three more strikes. The mountain of a man crumpled to the ground. Yemima casually rested her hand on the butt of her pistol for the others to see. The rest of the gang realized that this was not a fight they could win. Lacking any ceremony, they dragged their now unconscious leader out of the way of the two Israelis, who continued unmolested.
'Aren Questos' watched this all unfold behind his shop's window, relaxing in the cooled air-conditioned room. The fight had been most telling. Whoever those two were, they were not ordinary mercenaries. Elite military members, no doubt. Whether or not they were still military was another question. Their movements, their patterns, belied some kind of operation was underway. He had to make his report to his superiors. Something was happening in Port Kirin, and whoever was planning it, their people knew their trade. He never thought he would actually report something helpful to LOKI.
He sighed. Soon, the quiet and relatively peaceful existence as a baker would come to an end. It was a shame. He was a very good baker…
22 July 2006/3021/861 AS
"Wait, you caught wind of what?" Lieutenant Hannah Najjar asked McCann.
"The other city-states are looking at Port Kirin with greedy eyes. From what we gathered, they're planning on hitting the city soon." McCann replied.
"Given that Vorax's expedition has yet to return, the others see him as weak." David added, "We don't have a firm timetable, but it looks like the hammer is falling on Port Kirin."
"Shit." Najjar pulled out a small device from her pocket, "That'll complicate things."
McCann pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, "This is the full list of cities dedicating forces to the potential invasion of the city."
Najjar took a quick picture of the paper with her device and closed her eyes a moment, "Proctor, Konkrite, Hermantown, Resortland, Digger's Stop, Malice Fist."
"We don't have a full picture of how much they're going to dedicate," David said, "but six city-states would probably be able to put together at least a corps worth of forces."
"Gods. I'll get this up to the brass." Najjar changed topics, "Have we found good chinks to exploit in Kirin's admittedly rusted armor?"
"Too many." Sergeant Braiden replied, "Major targets like communications, the barracks, et cetera were all easy. The walls? I mean, Jesus, ma'am, I don't have enough explosives to blow open every good spot."
"That's a good problem to have." Najjar noted, "Use up all your explosives. See if there are any that lead to the main thoroughfares. The easier our vehicles can enter the city, the better."
"We'll find some good overwatch positions around the city." McCann said, "Once these places are blown, we'll pick off as much infantry as we can. Are your drones weaponized?"
"Always, Captain."
"Good. That will make taking out armor easier."
Najjar pointed to a table at the end of the room, "Each one of you grab one of those and keep them on you. Patch them into your comms. You'll thank me when the shit hits the fan."
27 July 2006/3021/861 AS
Sergeant Braiden carefully squeezed the mass of composite explosives into a crack in Port Kirin's city walls. He stuck the detonator in, hidden in plain sight. A native of Edinburgh, the thirty-eight-year-old former SAS man never thought he would visit a place that still used city walls. Port Kirin reminded him of nineteenth century Sudan, a somewhat disturbing comparison. Thirty-first century technology with decidedly seventeenth century morals and ethics. Not a combination he ever imagined seeing.
They had received word from the brass. It was only a matter of time until the invasion force would make planetfall and all hell would break loose. Intelligence gathering was not yet over, but they had a more pressing matter: sabotage. Communications, militia barracks, the 'Mech hanger, locations along the city walls, everything that looked important to the invading forces was set to blow.
The team was also beginning to see an emerging problem: privately owned 'Mechs. There were many, many mercenaries and undesirables that had their own 'Mechs. They weren't worried about the locals rising to defend the city, they were worried about the locals coming in to take advantage of the salvage situation. People here were opportunists, and they were ready to pounce at any opportunity to get ahead. Mass salvage on a battlefield may prove to be irresistible, and the team had to prepare for that eventuality. Their mission had been expanded thanks to the unexpected delays in training for the main invasion force.
Maybe, just maybe, they would have enough time to prepare.
International Training Center
Fort Irwin, California
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
12 August 2006/3021/861 AS
Glaring light and a constant, rumbling roar bathed the base. The assembled crowd of politicians, military personnel, civilians, and reporters raised their hands as one to shield their eyes from the awful exhaust glare of the many DropShips racing for space, carrying their soldiers and loved ones to the waiting fleet of Planetary Carriers and from there, to a distant world. The journey was expected to be long. Two weeks cooped up in DropShips and huge Dreadnaughts seemed an eternity for those used to intercontinental flights taking a maximum of twenty hours. Despite the assurances given by scientists and generals, no one could be certain that those brave people would ever been seen again.
"Godspeed, people." Murmured Jane Koltan for the comfort of her husband's embrace. Under other circumstances, she may have gone with them, but the ISA had decided to retain a small handful of DropShips, her Drakon among them. Jane could continue alongside the skeleton crew of ISA personnel to train people in space operations. Even so, the loss of so much lift capacity was likely to hurt for some time.
The Port Kirin operation had been discussed at length even as the ISA geared up for it. Some opposed it, some even had good reason, but the Chloe Sullivan documentary on Port Kirin had firmly solidified public support in favor of liberating what was now being called 'the most wretched hive of scum and villainy in the Inner Sphere.' Port Kirin had survived thus far by being mostly ignored by the powers that be. That was about to change.
Bridge, ISV Stilgar
Waypoint 5
En Route to Antallos, Periphery Space
17 August 2006/3021/861 AS
Swarms of new personnel crowded Serov's bridge, analyzing the data of the surrounding space. In their wisdom, Earth and ISA planners had decided that the Antallos Expeditionary Force should backtrack the same route used by the invasion army had used to get to Earth. The general idea was to sweep away any follow up expeditions that Aiden Vorax may have sent to check up on his 'investment.'
So far, no traffic had been encountered so far, which suited the crews and passengers of the ISA fleet just fine. In the meantime, the powerful sensors of the fleet studied everything around them.
"Hey, check this out General." Doctor Tran, astronomer, said as he pointed at the display before him. On it was a splotchy mess of blue and green blobs interspersed with shiny points and a red and yellow ring.
"Interesting." Serov said as he reached the navigation station first.
"What is it, Doctor?" General Davis asked.
"This is a view of the cosmic background radiation as we see it from our current position, and this is the space-time displacement event."
"Have you overlaid that on our existing data?" Serov asked, "I'm sure you'll find it very interesting."
"Oh my." The display updated with all the ISA's existing data on the systems surrounding Earth, "This is… this confirms the theory."
"Sixty light years in a sphere surrounding Earth have been displaced, Doctor." Serov stated simply, "Trust me, we were just as shocked as you are."
"Are any of these worlds habitable?" Davis asked.
"Oh, more than a few." Serov stated, "If you look closely at the map, you'll see the ISA's first colony, Cradle. There plenty of systems around here."
"Amazing…" Tran breathed, "We can truly be interstellar…"
"Welcome to the greater galaxy, Doctor."
Vorax's Palace
Port Kirin
Antallos System, Periphery Space
26 August 3021
It was supposed to have been so simple… Vorax thought miserably to himself, slumped behind his desk. Out there was a rich and primitive world ripe for the taking. Just go in there with a big army, take over, ship loot and slaves back to Port Kirin. Pure profit.
The first few months had ticked by and no word had come. That had been alright. From what he understood, Motherlode was eight jumps away and it would take time to beat the local populace into submission. Then came another eight weeks before the first returning DropShips to arrive.
Except the months had kept ticking by and no one had returned. Rumors began circulating that Vorax had conned everyone out of money and forces or worse, Vorax was the one who was conned. Vorax, of course, had assured everyone that Motherlode was indeed real, and they would be hauling in the riches shortly.
Then Precentor Long had shown up one day and asked if his superiors should expect an attack on Terra soon. At Vorax's mystified expression, Long showed him two images. One was the one that Captain Benson had given him of Motherlode. The other featured Terra. Ever since then Vorax had been waiting for the axe to fall. The only question was who would be holding the handle…
His desk communicated beeped.
"What is it?" Vorax demanded.
"Administrator, this is Spaceport command." Came the reply, "Uh, we're picking up inbound DropShips. A lot of inbound DropShips."
Nonstandard Point
Antallos System, Periphery Space
26 August 2006/3021/861 AS
Space rent asunder as three large globes of space-time were transformed into an exit point, an event that radiated away waste energy in a massive pulse of electromagnetic radiation. When the space-time bubbles collapsed, each one left behind the Planetary Carriers and their DropShip charges. Immediately on emergence, the whole fleet began converging on Antallos.
The ISA and Earth mission planners had decided to go with a true ISA strike point, jumping much closer than any Inner Sphere jump point was capable of, save for a few pirate points. This shaved days off the landing, ensuring that even if others arrived, they would be on the ground first. The Stilgar, Chani, and Shadout Mapes deployed their aerospace fighters to cover their approach, having them ready to assist the DropShips and transports as soon as they landed planet-side.
On the bridge of the Stilgar, Serov gave the predetermined signal to the special forces group on Antallos. They were coming, and there would be no stopping them from any power the Inner Sphere could hope to muster.
DropShip Commodore Perry
27 August 2006/3021/861 AS
General Davis entered the Perry's bridge, having been transferred back the day before. The upgrades made to the Overlord-class that he took as his flagship had made the trip uneventful. Everyone was grateful for the installation of artificial gravity. Soldiers had spent the last two weeks training, preparing for their upcoming mission. The Planetary Carriers' incredible holodeck technology had allowed them to train in shifts, keeping the expeditionary force sharp.
"Good morning, General." Said the Perry's skipper, Colonel Chou Kurita, in slightly accented English. A former member of the Japanese Self Defense Force, the man was also the grandson of Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita, the commanding officer of Imperial Japan's Second Fleet during World War II.
The same Kurita that the ruling family of the Draconis Combine claims descent from… Davis thought to himself.
Davis wondered who picked him as his flagship's CO and why. Chou Kurita was a competent and conscientious officer from what Davis had observed, but hardly exceptional. There were plenty of other officer who could have been assigned the position and having a Kurita in the expeditionary force could create all kinds of political complications that Davis didn't want to think about.
"Morning, Colonel," Davis replied, suppressing his thoughts, "any sign we've been noticed?"
"No, sir. We noticed a JumpShip out at the zenith point at 0210 and another one jump in from the nadir at 0835. From what we can tell, this appears to be normal traffic."
"Excuse me, sirs?" the sensors officer called, "New information. The Stilgar has relayed new information about the existing contacts. Zenith group just launched three Overlord DropShips towards Antallos. Nadir group deployed two Overlords, two Unions, and an Excalibur. ETA for both forces is four days to Antallos."
"Overlords? Excalibur?" Davis echoed. He was already familiar with the Overlord-class: only fielded by either the largest merc companies or House militaries. The Excalibur was one he was going to have to look up later, "I'm going to take a wild guess and say we're not the only ones interested in 'making contact' here."
"Do you think this is part of a follow-up invasion on Earth, sir?" Kurita asked, concerned.
"I don't think so," Davis said grimly, "but if it is, we're going to have to dissuade them. Forcefully if necessary." He gave a short, humorless laugh, "On the plus side, we'll be on the planet days ahead of them to prepare, and we have the Planetary Carriers. I don't think they can compete with that."
Bridge, ISV Stilgar
28 August 2006/3021/861 AS
"New contacts, sir." Sensors reported, "They're at the Antallos-star pirate point."
"Do we have any idea who they are?" Serov asked. This was starting to look like a clusterfuck in the making.
"They've sent a message to Port Kirin identifying themselves as 'Ryan's Rebels' and have demanded the coordinates to Motherlode. The consequences of failing to comply were… graphic, sir."
"Who the hell are 'Ryan's Rebels?'"
"Intel says they're one of the nastiest pirate groups to infest the universe," replied his XO Fleet Captain Christina Spiros, "They're led by a man named 'Redjack Ryan.'"
"Joy." Serov replied humorlessly, "What about our first two contacts, Alpha and Bravo?"
"Draconis Combine and Federated Suns, respectively." Comms replied.
"Are we sure?" Serov asked.
"Confirmed. Communications intercepts contained the obligatory insults to each other's nations."
"Gods wept." Serov facepalmed, "We're in the middle of a dick measuring contest and we have fucking pirates looking to hit Earth. Joy." Serov looked over the holomap and started delivering orders, "Launch the transports and get us into low orbit over the pirate's estimated drop point. Tell Jimmy and Yuki to pick Drac or Fed and get into orbit above them as well. If those fucks so much as twitch the wrong way, we will erase them from existence."
DropShip Commodore Perry
"Sirs," comms called, "Update from the Stilgar. Force Alpha has changed course to intercept Force Charlie's JumpShips. Force Charlie is sending DropShips in to Antallos and will arrive six hours behind us. Stilgar, Chani, and Shadout Mapes are launching their full compliments, and we've received a message from Port Kirin. They've IDed our DropShips as the same ones sent to Earth last year, but the content of the message indicates that our IFFs still broadcasts as the original owners."
"Hmm…" Davis thought a moment, "Quick, get me the battalion commanders and DropShip COs. I think we can use this."
"Plan B, sir?" Kurita asked.
"Plan C, actually." Davis replied with a shark-toothed grin, "All hail the conquering heroes."
Port Kirin Spaceport
Port Kirin
Antallos System, Periphery Space
29 August 2006/3021/861 AS
Sir, we're picking up an incoming aircraft. CIC makes it out as a Boomerang spotter plane."
"One of Redjack Ryan's people coming in for a look-see?" Davis asked.
That could be a problem. A recon plane might spot the hidden units lying in wait for the pirates but shooting down the plane could give the game away as well.
"Negative, sir." Came the reply, "The Boomerang appeared to have originated from Force Bravo's LZ. Should we shoot it down?"
"Are Boomerangs manned?" Davis asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Damn."
Davion forces had so far avoided contact with the ISA, preferring to skirmish with the Kuritan forces. Shooting down a likely killing one of their pilots would likely provoke them into attacking. Davis preferred to keep the number of enemies down to a minimum.
"No," Davis decided, "let them look. If they make no hostile moves toward us, we'll return the favor."
"Check in, Ginaz Platoon."
"Ginaz Two."
"Ginaz Three."
"Ginaz Four."
"Ginaz Five."
"Ginaz Six."
"Good. Hold." Commander Simeonov piloted his brand new Kartikeya Heavy 'Mech to a halt. The ISA had just finished their field testing when the Kartikeyas were delivered in the middle of combined arms training. The R&D folks wanted to build something large, but not so large as to greatly diminish their ability to move quickly and keep up with lighter 'Mechs. The armaments were modular, able to be field-refitted in minutes if they had the appropriate weapons. Shields, heavy armor, advanced sensor suite, VI-assisted targeting systems, and a RADAR absorbent armor composite studied from their Earth allies were all standard on these new machines of war. This was an exercise in perhaps adopting a new method of warfare to integrate into the ISA's already impressive arsenal. It looked like they would certainly need it.
The initial objective to seize Port Kirin had gone spectacularly well. With the DropShips seen as friendly reinforcements, the transports unable to be seen on sensors, the special operations team disrupting Port Kirin's communications and ability to respond as soon as they landed, the threat from the city had been completely neutralized. Problems started to arise shortly afterward. With Vorax's capture by the operators and the militia's barracks destroyed, Port Kirin seemed open for the taking. Redjack Ryan's forces, who had landed in a free zone shortly after they did, took the lack of response from Port Kirin as their opportunity to attack. The two other forces, identified as Draconis Combine and Federated Suns, each landed in other free zones. They looked poised to take advantage of any weakness they perceived in the landing force. If communications broke with their Planetary Carriers above, the operation would be in danger.
The ISA decided on a plan: using elements of the First and Second 'Mech Battalions as bait, they would lure the enemy forces into a kill box. After they cleared the city's wall, they would be exposed to the firepower of the two battalions along with their aerospace support. If the majority of the pirate forces crossed the 'dead line,' the lased in line for the entire army to fill with explosive violence, then the pirates would be exposed to said violence, wiping them from the planet's surface.
Simeonov radioed to the nearest friendly forces, "Ginaz One to Charlie One."
"Charlie One." Lieutenant Dansel responded.
"You folks and your Battlemasters ready for this?" Simeonov asked.
"Commander, we're as ready as we're gonna be."
"Good. Oh, tell Commander Morgan we have a Kartikeya for him if he wants to actually kill something."
Dansel scoffed, "Sure, Commander. I extend the same offer to any member of your squad."
"Noted. Ginaz One out."
"You get that, Charlie Two?" Dansel radioed to his squad.
"Yes, we did, and you let Ginaz squad know that Morgan stays with me." Replied Second Lieutenant Natalie Rosswood. She received her commission the day before deploying on the journey back to Port Kirin.
"Do not be so protective of him." In came the smooth and silky voice of Brox's new vocal chords. The ISA doctors had grown him a new set according to his DNA, and it was still something to get used to.
"Can you remind me why we're waiting for these fuckers?" asked Jankowicz, "Why don't we just take the fight to them?"
"Even after we've all trained together at Fort Irwin and you're still way too eager to get your cockpit caved in." noted Natalie.
"Cut the chatter." Dansel ordered, "Got word coming in from the brass."
Major Azim's voice came over their comms, "Alpha One to BattleMech battalions. When you see 'em, give 'em hell."
Here we go.
Redjack Ryan was not having a good time. Something kept hitting his 'Mechs. He was sure there were aerospace fighters up there, but his sensors told him nothing except for constant missile alerts. One by one, his battalion was getting picked apart. Stingers, Jenners, they were the first to fall. The light 'Mechs simply didn't have the armor to withstand the constant missile barrage. Still, as soon as he was close enough to Port Kirin, he knew the defense would collapse.
"Send the newbies over the wall!" He ordered over the radio, "The rest of you lot, start opening us some holes!"
His Renegades and Wilson's Hussars drew up to a halt and started pounding at the walls. A lance of the newest, most ill-regarded recruits piloting captured Kuritan light 'Mechs jumped over them. Moments later, the sounds of explosions from within the Port along with panicked screaming over the radio pierced his ears. Taking the city was not going to be as easy as he thought. Still, the data gathered from that scout lance's sensors showed that it couldn't be more than a company shooting from long range. It was probably the fucks that returned from Motherlode caught before they could reach the best spot to try and hold them off.
"Pour it on, you scum! Crack me that wall! Don't spare the ammo!" Under the weight of more firepower, parts of the wall gave way. The next group of more expendable 'Mechs poured in, with the rest of their two battalions following close behind. They were met by a wall of long-range fire. There were four-legged 'Mechs that didn't appear on their sensors popping up and down the dunes, blasting them with weapons they didn't believe existed. Battlemasters and Warhammers with their overpowered PPCs; Black Knights with lasers that seemed to cut through their armor like butter. The 'lightest' 'Mech on sensors was a Hunchback with a shoulder cannon that beggared belief. He couldn't get a solid read on how many of these things there were, all he knew is that he needed to close the distance. He wanted to trade his Quickdraw out, and what better 'Mech to trade in for than one of those Battlemasters?
"FULL SPEED!" He yelled over comms, "Charge the bastards! Bring them down and the port is ours! Double share to the first man who brings down those Battlemasters intact for me next ride!"
The remaining 'Mechs charged, advancing under the withering fire. The aerospace fighters were still picking apart his rear, but Ryan didn't care. He knew that if he broke this line of 'Mechs, the battle was his. His prey moved backwards at a walking pace, repeatedly hammering their closes pursuers with accurate long-range fire. Any attempts to fire back went wild, their aim thrown off by the wild charge and the constant, steady fire. Over twenty of his 'Mechs lay dead in the dirt, but he still had more than enough to bring them down. They were closing the distance fast.
"One last push and we're all over 'em! Char-"
At that moment, his displays lit up warning indicators all over his cockpit: TAG Lock dete-Incoming Art-TAG Lock-. He cursed and reduced the warnings to text on his HUD. It resolved into four lines:
TAG Lock detected - Multiple Targeting Emitters
Incoming Artillery - 100+ Projectiles
Fusion Plant Activated - 33-34-37… Sources
Incoming Missile - 10+ Missiles
"Shit." The alert warnings continued to blare as the iron curtain fell.
The 'time on target' barrage. Pioneered during World War II to maximize casualties from the first fall of artillery shells. Normally, this was limited to artillery and rocket platforms whose computer systems were seamlessly meshed together. This time around, this particular barrage included the landed DropShips, tanks, helicopters, and fighter craft. The barrage also coincided with the reactivation of the rest of the First and Second 'Mech Battalions, so when the pirate army crossed the 'dead line' they were well and truly screwed.
The result of all that effort was total annihilation. With the added firepower of the ISA's 'Mech, armored, aerospace, and DropShip support, it turned into hell for the luckless pirates caught in the middle. All order broke down, aided by the fact that Ryan's Quickdraw had been identified and targeted with extreme prejudice. Some of the pirates tried to close the distance, others attempted to retreat, while the rest took what cover they could and milled about in confusion, trying to shoot at any target that presented itself.
The 'Mechs that closed the distance were met by the First and Second 'Mech Battalions, along with infantry wielded MPMAM-9 'Worm Killer' missiles. Kartikeya heavy 'Mechs with their quad-legged designs and quick jump capabilities savaged those they encountered with their superior mobility, weapons, and shields. Battlemasters lived up to their namesake, tearing apart the front line with their pulse lasers and taking shots at the rear with their rail guns. Those pirates that stayed in place were savaged by artillery and tanks. ISA Ix tankers took no chances and fired as a company on single targets, their rail guns taking no prisoners. Those pirates that retreated were harried by missiles and fighters. Three of the converted Leopard Gunships took off to chase down retreating forces, savaging them with rail gun and artillery fire. Nothing would escape this killing field.
One last target remained: a stubborn Awesome. It had managed to dodge the brunt of the fire thrown at its comrades and searched for satisfaction. It fired its full complement at a nearby Ix tank, collapsing its shields. A Kartikeya turned about to face the Awesome. With a simple squeeze of the trigger, two rail gun rounds found their way into the Awesome's cockpit. The pilot was killed instantly, vaporized by two slugs of metal travelling a fraction of the speed of light.
"You had to take the kill." Natalie called over the comms.
"I was in position." Simeonov responded. They could practically feel the nonchalant shrug.
"Alpha One to Ginaz One, how are you holding up?" Major Azim called.
"Ginaz Squad is fine over here. Repositioning for potential retaliatory strikes." Simeonov responded.
"Copy, Ginaz One. Alpha One to battalion: check weapons and armor. If you're below sixty percent armor or ammo, fall back to the DropShips for immediate repair and resupply."
DropShip Sword of the Suns
Davion Light Guards Base Camp
Sea of Despair, Antallos
"That was neatly executed." Observed Marshal Jonathan Rittenberg, commanding officer of the Davion Light Guards Regimental Combat Team.
He observed the surveillance footage from the Boomerang. The Port Kirin defenders who had identified themselves as the ISA had just sprung a trap on Redjack Ryan's pirates, using their own heavy and assault 'Mechs as bait. Once in the kill zone, Ryan's tightly packed 'Mechs were savaged from all directions. These ISA people had a large amount of ballistic and missile artillery and were using it liberally.
"Marshal, ISA forces have just launched three Leopards." Rittenberg's aide, Major Carlos Davion, announced. Carlos Davion was a minor scion of the Federated Sun's ruling family, only distantly related to the Prince. Like many Davions before him he had chosen to enter military service.
"Dropping 'Mechs behind the pirates to seal them in, eh?" Rittenberg guessed. Whoever the ISA leader was, they were very good at least as far as battle planning went.
"Doesn't look like it, sir." Davion reported, "The Leopards are taking up a holding pattern around the battlefield, just out of LRM range."
"They can't be using them for strafing runs. DropShips are far too valuable for that, even Leopards."
In the display, a pirate 'Mech broke away from the packed mob getting slaughtered by the iron curtain of fire. The Wolverine had barely taken three steps when it was torn apart by weapons fire. Moments later, what remained was shredded by artillery strikes.
"Blake's blood!" Davion swore, "That was from the Leopards!"
"So, are they strafing the battle?"
"Uh, no sir." Davion checked a different monitor, "It looks like… it looks like they're still circling, but they're firing broadside."
"Leopards don't have broadside armament." Rittenberg pointed out.
"I know, sir, but these ones do. Look."
The main display changed to show a single ISA Leopard. It was flying canted slightly on its side, muzzle flashes vomiting from what should have been the 'Mech bay doors. Rittenberg grunted in understanding: this ISA had simply ripped out the 'Mech bay equipment and stuffed the bays full of weapons and ammo. Crude, but apparently effective.
"Switch back to the battle." Rittenberg ordered, "What kind of armament are we looking at?"
"Umm, from the range and firepower, I'd say we're looking at gauss rifles and an extremely rapid AC2 battery backed up by some artillery tubes, probably Snipers or Thumpers."
"Wait, gauss rifles?" Rittenberg stared in disbelief, "Are you sure?"
"It's the only thing that makes sense, Marshal." Davion replied, "Those aren't autocannons, that's for sure."
Rittenberg grunted as he watched the slaughter unfold. More 'Mechs broke away from the rear of the pirate formation. Each one was cut down one by one by the Leopards. It took a moment for Rittenberg to figure out what was bothering him besides the lostech. Then he realized what it was: The Leopards were cutting apart the runners in unison and switching targets in concert. It was a frightening display of timing and coordination for an old 'MechWarrior like himself.
"How are they doing that?" he muttered as a Rifleman was pounded into dust by weapons that haven't been manufactured in centuries.
Bridge, ISV Stilgar
Low Antallos Orbit
Antallos, Periphery Space
"Any word on those other city-states that want to poke in?" Serov asked.
"Nothing concrete as of yet," his sensors officer responded, "but we're deploying more drones and orbital platforms to get us a better picture. We should have something better for you by tomorrow."
"I suppose that will do. It'll give the arty some rest. They need ammo after that display of firepower." Serov noted.
"Logistics is already sending transports down laden with supplies." Comms reported, "We just keep the logistical train going. The Chani and the Shadout Mapes are doing the same."
Serov pondered the situation. They were caught in between two powers. They could very easily destroy them here and now, but the chances of them broadcasting a report out was great. ComStar would certainly see that through, and the full weight of two interstellar powers would be bearing down upon them. Fighting a mobile war on the ground was easy. They ruled the skies. There was little chance of the other city-states taking advantage of the situation well. Fighting an interstellar conflict was hard. Waging war on multiple worlds, engaging against enemy fleets at planets, these were things the ISA wanted to avoid until they were properly ready for such a conflict and said conflict was necessary. Serov looked down at the holomap of the battlefield. It was only a matter of time before the battle was won. It was what happened after that truly counted. The ISA was going to be in the eye of the galaxy very soon. It was imperative they put their best foot forward.
"We need to wrap up this bullshit as quickly as possible." Serov muttered to himself. He redirected his attention to his comms officer, "Send a message to Davis, Jimmy, and Yuki. Tell them we need to speak as soon as possible."
"Sir." Comms confirmed.
"We're going to bring down the hammer of civilization. I want the rest of the Inner Sphere to know what they're dealing with."
Port Kirin Outskirts
30 August 2006/3021/861 AS
Back during the days of the Star League, Antallos had been the trade center for this corner of the Periphery. Port Kirin used to boast a far higher population than the entire planet today. War and time took their toll, and Port Kirin was reduced to a shadow of its former glory. Today, the inhabited city was surrounded by ruins of more prosperous times, most of which were buried by the desert sand. Here and there, enough of a multistory structure survived to poke above ground.
This particular one made an excellent vantage point for the ongoing battle. The holo-camera panned across the vista, paying particularly close attention to the tracer fire and the occasional flash of lasers or rockets exchanged back and forth. In this corner of its point of view, a fair dark-haired woman was speaking.
"…battle is in its second day as the mysterious ISA fends off yet another attack by Port Kirin's enemies." The woman stated, "General consensus among the people of Port Kirin is that the ISA is all that stands between them and looting, raping, and pillaging by the other city-states. What no one seems to be wondering is why this ISA is even trying to-"
"Who the hell are you?" someone broke in. The camera spun about to focus on a squad of armed soldiers in ISA combat dress. They had apparently come up the stairs behind them and were now pointing their weapons at the people on the roof.
The woman was completely unphased, "Erika Adler, New Avalon News. Can I ask you or your people a few questions, sir?"
"Ms. Adler." The name on the soldier's chest read Wayne, "You're a reporter?"
"Yes, I'm a reporter." Adler answered, "Now, about those questions…"
"Jesus, doesn't matter the war, there's always a goddamn reporter." One of the other soldiers remarked.
"Can it, Dickens!" Wayne growled, "We got a battle to fight! Dickens take that wall. Raj, there. Timmy, over there. Move it people!"
The soldiers scrambled to their positions.
"Ma'am, you should really get back to Port Kirin where it's safe." Wayne told the reporter.
"I'm not going anywhere." Adler stated plainly, "This is where the story is, and I mean to get it."
"Reporters!" Wayne threw up his hands, "Here I thought we lucked out by not getting any."
"Now listen, Mr. Wayne-"
"Corporal."
"Corporal Wayne. Let us stay and I promise I won't get in your way. Besides, it's probably safer here than exposing ourselves wandering around outside."
"Miss Adler-"
"Corporal!" Dickens called from his position, "Eyes on an enemy 'Mech. Looks like one of those Robotech knockoffs."
"I see it too." Timmy added, "Either a Stinger or Wasp. Wait, definitely a Wasp. It's got that dual missile launcher in the leg."
"What idiot puts a missile launcher in a leg?" Dickens asked.
"Don't know, don't care." Wayne said. He moved behind Dickens and looked over his shoulder. Adler and her cameraman did the same. There was indeed a BattleMech out there moving amongst the ruins. It fired its arm-mounted laser at something. "Dickens, paint it."
"Roger, Corporal." Dickens replied, pressing a button on his rifle.
"Oscar Charlie, this is India Sierra One Niner." Wayne called into his radio, "Fire for effect. Over."
"India Sierra One Niner, this is Oscar Charlie One One." came the reply, "Fire for effect. Over."
"Grid Foxtrot Juliett One Niner Sixer Two Seven Four. Oscar Bravo. One light 'Mech in the open. Danger close. Danger close. Out." Wayne called again, speaking what seemed to be a foreign language.
"Oscar Bravo. Slug and Particle in effect. Five rounds. Over"
"Oscar Bravo. Slug and Particle in effect. Five rounds. Out." Wayne turned to Dickens, "Still got 'em?"
"Yep." Dickens acknowledged. He hunched down and aimed his rifle at the Wasp.
The action made no sense to Adler. Was he going to shoot the 'Mech with his rifle? What could that possibly do? She opened her mouth to ask what they were doing. She never got the chance.
The Wasp disappeared under the weight of fire from above. Particle fire streaked from the skies, engulfing the 'Mech in blue light. Craters surrounded it. Moments later, nothing was left.
Adler gawked a moment, unsure of what she saw. She turned to her cameraman.
"Jimmy, tell me you got that!"
DropShip Sword of the Suns
Davion Light Guards Base Camp
Sea of Despair, Antallos
Rittenberg was reviewing the report from the latest 'probe' at the Drac regiment on the planet. According to intelligence, the 6th Pesht Regulars were one of the Combine's forces used to garrison rear areas generally not under threat from anyone but pirates. Troop quality was uneven: They had both aged veterans and green 'MechWarriors. The most recent action managed to lure a lance of Dragons and managed to disable two for only the loss of a single Locust and some hovertanks.
"Sir, new report." Major Davion announced, "The ISA have been engaged by new forces."
"New forces?" Rittenberg repeated, "Who are they and where did they come from?"
"We're not sure." Davion replied, "Intercepts suggest they're a mix of independent pirates, mercenaries, and regulars from the other city-states."
"On this planet, there's not much difference between the three. How many are we talking about here?"
"It's hard to say, Marshal. They're attempting hit and run tactics against the ISA, so it's difficult to get a hard count. Although we did notice one thing right away."
"What is that, Major?"
"They have an incredible air presence, one which completely evaded our attention. Before they even got into range, their artillery disappeared in a hail of missile fire."
"How do they do that?" Rittenberg asked.
1 September 2006/3021/861 AS
Outside the walls of the city, a group of six four-legged 'Mechs crested a hill, utterly annihilating a couple of light 'Mechs three klicks away. In the distance a DropShip of unknown design dropped off a group of infantry and vehicles, completely outflanking a marauding group of medium 'Mechs and their vehicle support. As quickly as they arrived, they loaded back into that DropShip leaving the battlefield as quickly as they came. In the distance, another group of vehicles were destroyed by the unerring fire of the ISA's artillery. In the skies, marauding fighters were swatted from the skies by seemingly invisible aerospace fighters, striking from kilometers away then disappearing.
The video playback paused.
"How?" Marshal Rittenberg wondered aloud. It was becoming a depressingly familiar phrase.
"I don't know, sir." Major Davion replied, "We have cross-referenced these 'Mech designs and DropShips with all known designs in our database and we're coming up with nothing. Also, look at the state of those 'Mechs and the DropShips. They are immaculate. We also cannot pick either of them up on sensors."
"They can coordinate near perfectly. They are never caught out." Rittenberg pondered, "It's almost as if they can see the battle at all times, and they have technology that should be impossible. Look closely here, Major." The video shifted to the raiders firing on one of the unknown 'Mechs, "Take a look."
Davion leaned in close, "I don't know what I'm looking at, sir."
"Look at the point of impact. Watch closely." The video played, moving forward slowly. As a weapon blast seemed to make contact, he paused the playback, "See? The weapons never make contact with the 'Mech. It looks like some sort of invisible barrier."
"That's impossible, sir!"
"Is it? Each and every soldier can call in for long ranged support. We've seen this. They have 'Mechs that we have never seen before. They have DropShips we have never seen before. They can strike quickly, coordinating with all their forces to ensure that even the lowliest infantry has the firepower to destroy BattleMechs. They fight as we do, but perhaps even better. I never thought I would say such a thing."
"Marshal, what are you saying?"
Rittenberg paused, knowing the revelation he was coming to seemed impossible, "There is legitimate new power in the Inner Sphere."
Above Port Kirin
Upper Atmosphere
Chu-I Bryan Hu flew his Shilone high above the modified Leopard. Much as it irritated him, Hu's orders were to observe this 'ISA.' He was only to attack if attacked first. So far, the most hostile action ISA unit had taken against him was to ping him with RADAR and LIDAR (completely unaware of the squadrons of fighters ready to pounce on them if they stepped out of line). They had henceforth ignored him, as if he were of no significance. The contempt of such an action had rubbed his honor raw, and he itched to arm his weapon and fire on them. However, he was a Samurai and held his peace because those were his orders.
Down below, a pair of antique Sabre aerospace fighters bore down on the ungainly Leopard. Well, if Hu couldn't fight the ISA himself, he could at least observe how they fought against an aerial opponent, even if said opponents were little better than pirates. Would that curious broadside armament be any good in in air battle?
New contacts appeared on Hu's RADAR, drawing his attention away from the coming battle below to his own situation above the clouds.
"Hu," called his wingman, "I see a pair of Davion Lucifers coming directly toward us."
"I see them too." Hu agreed, "Their intent is obviously hostile. So, of course, we must defend ourselves as we have been ordered."
"Well reasoned, Hu." His wingman chuckled, "To battle!"
The battle was short and sharp, a high-speed pass of exchanged fire. The Davions broke and ran after suffering heavy damage. Hu himself suffered heavy damage while his wingman was shot down entirely. Regretfully, Hu's damage was enough that he had to return to base for repairs and ammo.
Glancing down below, he saw that the Sabres were no longer in the sky, and the ISA Leopard was heading back to Port Kirin completely unscathed.
DropShip Teeth of the Dragon
6th Pesht Regulars Base Camp
Sea of Despair, Antallos
"Tai-sa, why have you not ordered an attack?"
Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita looked up from his study of the latest reports. Only one man in the Sixth Pesht Regulars would dare to take such an impetuous tone with him, and that man was not a Regular. He was Harmon Gonzo, the regiment's ISF liaison and political taskmaster. In Ulysses' opinion, Gonzo-san was an idiot, shuffled off to backwater units like the Sixth so that he could not cause greater harm to the Dragon in more important positions.
"Attack, Gonzo Harmon-san?" Ulysses said slowly, his voice filled with feigned puzzlement, "Who would I possibly want to attack?"
"Why, the enemies of the Dragons of course!" Gonzo said, exasperated, "That is your entire purpose, old man!"
"Is it truly?" the elderly Tai-sa said in exaggerated astonishment. "Dear me, my memories must be playing tricks on me in my old age. I would have sworn that the purpose of the DCMS was to protect the worlds and people of the Combine. Are you saying that has changed, Gonzo-san?"
"Yes! I mean no!" Gonzo sputtered. "I mean that your purpose of defending the Combine will be best accomplished by attacking and destroying the Combine's enemies," he explained slowly as if to a child… or a senile old man. "The Coordinator himself has ordered it!"
"Ah, pardon my mistake, Gonzo-san," Ulysses replied. "I thought the Coordinator had ordered something else. Now where did I put that letter? Ah, here it is. Let us see. 'Ensure the destruction of the pirates known as Ryan's Rebels.'" Ulysses called up an image of a field strewn with broken BattleMechs. "Ah, I see that has been done already."
"We were the ones that were supposed to do that!" the ISF man objected.
"Were we?" Ulysses said. "Dear me, that's not in this message." He turned to an aide. "Tai-i Morrison, please draft a complaint to ComStar about sending us incomplete messages."
"Of course, Tai-sa."
"Good, good." Ulysses said, nodding dramatically. He turned back to Gonzo. "I trust that addresses all your complaints, Gonzo-san?"
"What about the Davions?" Gonzo asked. "They are enemies to be driven from Combine worlds!"
"Odd, has Antallos been added to the Combine?" Ulysses said with mock confusion. He sighed. "We always seem to get those memos late."
"No, Antallos isn't in the Combine!" Gonzo replied. "What does it matter? They're Davions! They are the enemy and must be destroyed!"
"Well, if Antallos isn't part of the Combine," Ulysses mused. "I see no reason to defend the place from the Davions. On the other hand, I'm not totally ignoring them either."
"What? By sending green warriors in penny packets at them?" Gonzo said incredulously. "You accomplish nothing there."
"On the contrary, Gonzo-san," Ulysses replied. "Part of the Regulars' ongoing mission is to train young mechwarriors in the ways of combat against our enemies. What better way than to have them fight actual Davions?"
"Skirmishes only," Gonzo scoffed. "Where is your honor, old man? You should be seeking out the Davions to crush them in one glorious battle. The Davions are weak here; their Light Guards are only made up of light and medium mechs. You could roll over them easily."
"Oh yes, very good, Gonzo-san," Ulysses said, the slightest hint of scorn and rebuke entering his voice. "Of course, none of these pirate trash wandering this desert, nor this ISA would dare attack us or our base camp while our backs are turned when we do battle with Davion, correct?" He paused, then added thoughtfully. "Well, the ISA almost certainly would not since their tactics appear to revolve around holding Port Kirin."
"Then destroy the pirates first!" Gonzo said.
"Of course, Gonzo-san," Ulysses agreed, bowing in respect to the man. "How silly of me to not realize that the patrols I had ordered were not doing precisely that."
That was an interesting shade of puce on the ISF man's face, Ulysses thought. He wondered if he could get the man to expire of apoplexy before the day was out.
DropShip Commodore Perry
Port Kirin
This was far too easy. Serov made it clear that he didn't fight fair, and that was fine by General Davis. 'Fair' meant his people making it out alive and the enemy being completely unable to fight. In the first day the Planetary Carriers had deployed their orbital platforms and recon drones. By the second day, ISA forces on the ground had a God-like view of the battlefield, shared real-time with all their forces. This allowed for fire missions from orbital platforms that didn't require anyone to risk their lives spotting the targets. The other city-states were trying hit-and-run tactics, but they could hit harder and run faster. The Baliset-class transports that the Planetary Carriers held were so invaluable, dropping vehicles and infantry in the flanks of the enemy undetected. They would land, Fedaykin fighters would hit some targets, the vehicles and infantry would mop them up, and they would leave. The Leopard gun-carriers had proven their worth. They would simply look at targets and they would disappear.
The city-states were in disarray, trying to mount one last offensive. It looked to Davis from the orbital coverage that they were done playing the hit-and-run game and were forced into a bold push against Port Kirin with what little forces they had left. Davis left it to the First and Second 'Mech battalions to formulate their final plan to wipe out the last of the city-state's resistance and bring an end to the immediate conflict. Davis had to think forward to after this battle.
Lieutenant Dansel lead his platoon beyond the city walls, hunting the last of the marauding city-state forces. They had a perfect view of the battlefield, they had air superiority, and they completely outnumbered their foe. Major Azim and Commander Simeonov had a simple plan in place: surround them and force their surrender. If they decided to fight, well, that was on them. Transports already dropped vehicles and infantry to the rear of the enemy, pushing them toward the wall. Those forces would be the hammer, and the 'Mechs would be the anvil.
"Charlie One to Charlie Platoon. Confirm status." Dansel called.
"Charlie Two-ow, stop that Morgan!"
"Charlie Three."
"Charlie Four."
"Jesus, Brox, that voice is something." Dansel commented.
"The coming battle is my only concern." Replied Brox, "However, I admit this new voice is… nice."
"Damn straight it is!" Natalie chimed in, "If you had that voice when we first met, Dani would've been all over you." A small scuffle was heard over her comms, "Morgan! I swear to God-"
"Stop bangin' in the 'Mech!" Jankowicz yelled, "None of us need to hear that shit!"
"Jealous much?" Natalie goaded the young 'MechWarrior, "When's the last time you got laid?"
"Cut the chatter!" Dansel ordered, "We're closing on the enemy."
Hale willed his Kartikeya forward. His experience in the heavy 'Mech had been an absolute dream. Simulations were one thing, but actually using it in battle was a dream come true. The copilot system was something else. Not having to worry about sensor readouts helped free up his mental bandwidth for actual combat.
They were closing on the enemy. Ginaz Squad was the edge of the spear, there to ensure that none of the bastards could run. Before they crested the last hill, he heard Commander Simeonov's voice over the comms.
"Ginaz One to all forces. Hold." Simeonov ordered. Without hesitation, Hale brought his Kartikeya to a halt, "I'm going to see if we can get these guys to surrender."
"This is Commander Yakim Simeonov to all allied city-state forces," Simeonov called over an open channel, "we are calling for your immediate surrender. Lay down your arms, power down your 'Mechs, exit your vehicles and you will not be harmed. If you do not comply as we crest the hills around you, we will have no choice but to consider you active enemy combatants and act accordingly. Confirm, over."
"This is Captain Vranch." Another voice replied, "We have your word you won't fire upon us if we surrender."
"That is correct, Captain."
There was a pause, "Okay, okay. We're powering down now, don't shoot."
Simeonov switched back to ISA channels, "Alright. Forward people. Be ready for anything."
All elements present of the ISA First Combined Army pushed forward, cresting the hills, ready to fight. Below them, they found their quarry powered down, their hands up. Simeonov smiled.
"Good way to end a battle, eh?" Simeonov remarked, "Okay, round those folks up. Seize their equipment and bring it all gift-wrapped for the General. I'll let him know it's over."
"We're done." Davis said as he heard Simeonov's report, "Thank God for that." Now there was work to do, "Colonel Kurita."
"Sir."
"Draft an after-action report for the Army. Secure the city perimeter and rotate out those who need the rest. We may or may not have another fight on our hands and I want to be in the best possible condition if we need to have another go."
"Yes, sir."
"Sir?" the comms officer called, "Bashar Serov has a request for us."
"What does the good Bashar want?" Davis asked.
"He wants us to set up a teleconference with the Kuritan and Davion commanders."
"Do I have to do any talking?"
"No, sir. Bashar Serov thinks it would be best if he handled it as the ranking officer here."
"Good. Then send the message to the two commanders that Serov wants to talk at their earliest convenience. Colonel Kurita, I cede command to you for the time being." Davis began to walk off the bridge.
"Sir, where are you going?" Kurita asked.
"I need a shower, Colonel." Davis turned around, waving behind him, "Call me if anything catastrophic happens."