The Coming Storm Chapter 6: Part 5 - Welcome to the Stage, a Mechwarrior/Battletech + Tom Clancy Crossover fanfic

Welcome to the Stage

DropShip Sword of the Suns

Davion Light Guards Base Camp

Sea of Despair, Antallos

"This is Commander Yakim Simeonov to all allied city-state forces, 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. We have your word you won't fire upon us if we surrender."

"That is correct, Captain."

"Okay, okay. We're powering down now, don't shoot."

"That's it, sir." Major Davion reported regretfully as the recording ended, "After that, we picked up civilian transmissions saying that the ISA won. No details, though."

"What about the ISA?" Marshal Rittenberg asked, "Have we been able to eavesdrop on what they're saying?"

"No, sir. Our communications techs haven't even been able to isolate what frequencies they might be using. Every time they think they have something, it just vanishes."

"That can't be right." Rittenberg muttered to himself. It wouldn't have surprised him if the ISA encrypted their own radio transmissions, but making their transmissions undetectable? It sounded like magic, "How do they do that?"

"I don't know, sir." Major Davion admitted.

"Of course not. So, what do we know?"

DropShip Teeth of the Dragon

6th Pesht Regulars Base Camp

Sea of Despair, Antallos

"Our data is… limited," Tai-i Morrison said slowly. "Our reconnaissance assets have been whittled away by the City-State pirates and we have been conserving them to watch our Davion foes."

"So, what do we know?" Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita asked pointedly.

"All reports indicate that the remaining pirate forces have surrendered to the ISA." Morrison continued, "It is unknown how they were able to deploy their forces outside the wall so effectively to surround them and force the remainder to lay down their arms. We have been getting reports of 'Mechs we have never seen before and DropShips invisible to our sensors, but we cannot confirm these at this time."

"Nonsense!" Harmon Gonzo scoffed, "They cannot have 'invisible' DropShips and 'Mechs! No one in the Inner Sphere has such technology!"

"Are you so sure, Gonzo-san?" Ulysses asked mildly, rebuke dripping into his voice, "This ISA seems full of surprises."

"Then let us go to Port Kirin and take what secrets this ISA has!" Gonzo cried.

"Ah, very good, Gonzo-san," Ulysses agreed. "Let us go challenge a force that thinks nothing of destroying… what was the size of that last pirate unit, Tai-i Morrison?"

"About a company of 'Mechs," Morrison answered promptly. "possibly with infantry and vehicle support."

"Yes, Yes," Ulysses said, nodding thanks, "Let us go challenge this ISA, whom we have no argument with, who thinks nothing of destroying battalions of 'Mechs in company sized lots, and who may be able to strike us without our knowledge."

"They couldn't." Gonzo said, but the sweat beading his forehead and the shifting of his eyes gave the lie to his words.

"Perhaps." Ulysses said thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, they extended us the courtesy to watch the destruction of the scum who dared attack the Combine. They've fought a three-day campaign against near impossible odds in one of the most glorious displays of skill and courage I have ever seen… outside a Combine unit of course. I am willing to venture that the Dragon could use an honored ally to guard our flank."

"The Dragon needs no friends," Gonzo declared.

Before Ulysses could reply to the ISF man, a tech handed Morrison a note.

"Pardon, Tai-sa, Gonzo-san," Morrison said. "We have a received a message from the ISA commander. He wishes to arrange a meeting."

Serov's Ready Room, ISV Stilgar

Low Antallos Orbit

Gods, their imagers are terrible. Serov thought to himself. He was used to crisp holographic technology: high resolution scanning, making it seem like the person was in the room with you. Instead, he got spotty see-through ghost images, complete with scan lines, from the two representatives, and it was only their heads.

To Serov's left was the Davion CO. The man was a fit, middle aged man with graying hair who wouldn't have been out of place in any senior officer's meeting on Earth. In contrast, the Kuritan CO on Serov's right was a wrinkled ancient who wouldn't have been out of place as the mentor figure or wizard in some Kusari martial arts flick.

"Gentlemen. Thank you for agreeing to see me." Serov began, "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Bashar Superior Thomas Serov of the Independent Systems Alliance."

"Marshal Jonathan Rittenberg, AFFS." The Davion commander replied gruffly.

"I am Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita." The Kuritan commander said formally with a slight bow of his head, "Allow me to congratulate you on a battle well fought, Bashar."

"Yes, that is… an interesting style of combat you have there." Rittenberg said, "I'd like to hear how you managed to accomplish everything you did."

"I'm sure you would, Marshal." Serov replied, "Maybe I'll even tell you some day, but I'm afraid that will have to wait. The reason for this call is to ascertain your intentions regarding my people and the people of Port Kirin."

"I'm not sure what you mean, Bashar." Rittenberg replied, "Quite honestly, I don't even know who you people are."

"Indeed." Kurita agreed, "I must admit that you have piqued the curiosity of my staff."

"Let's cut the horseshit, shall we? Last year, Port Kirin's former administrator gathered together a little army to try to take a little nowhere world he called 'Motherlode.' Unfortunately for him, he didn't send a big enough for by about… oh at least a few orders of magnitude. We are here to ensure that doesn't happen again." Serov leaned forward, interlacing his hands, "So, the real question is, what are your people's intention towards 'Motherlode?'"

"You will understand that I cannot speak for the Coordinator on this matter, General." Tai-sa Kurita asked. "As for myself, I was sent here to hunt pirates, which I have done. I was ordered to see to the death of the pirate Redjack Ryan, which I have also done. As far as I am concerned, my mission here is complete."

Serov turned to Rittenberg.

"Hey, my people are just tourists here," Rittenberg said nonchalantly. "You know, see the sights, take some holos, shoot some game…"

"Alas, but I feel that I cannot leave while the soldiers of Hanse Davion remain on this world," Ulysses said. "Why, they might use it as a base to stage raids into the Combine."

"Well, I can't really leave while there's still 'game' to be shot," Rittenberg snapped back.

"Gents, please." Serov said, attempting to interrupt the argument, "While I'd be more than happy to let you two get back to shooting one another, I'm also sure that neither of you really wants to waste soldiers and machines on pointless battles with nothing to show for it."

The two holographic heads glared at each other, suggesting that they really did want that.

"You have a suggestion, Bashar?" Kurita asked.

"The ISA is taking over administration of Port Kirin, with time all of Antallos." Serov told them, "My intention is to avoid conflict with your nations if at all possible. Now, I imagine that neither of you wants to see the ISA allied with your enemy, right?"

"Of course, Bashar."

"Yeah, not a chance in hell we'd let that happen."

"Then we're in agreement. The ISA will declare Port Kirin to be a neutral port. Both of you can go home and tell your brass 'mission accomplished.' You can also report that Port Kirin is now a pirate-free zone, and it will stay that way if we have anything to say about it. By now, we must have accounted for more than ninety percent of the pirates on this side of the Inner Sphere. To top it all off, we'll be running our own trade through Port Kirin. You might find some of the products worth buying. Now, admittedly, we're a military force not a trade mission, but I think we can find a few samples that might catch your people's interests."

"Very tempting, Bashar," Kurita said slowly. "I will consider your offer."

"Yes, very nice, but just one thing," Rittenberg agreed neutrally. "Where the hell are you people from anyway? It's pretty obvious that 'Motherlode' isn't what you named your planet."

"We are but the humble patrons of the Planet Earth." Serov replied simply.

Silence reined as the other two leaders digested his words.

"Which Earth?" Rittenberg asked, confused.

"There are at least two that come to mind," Kurita mused aloud. "but it seems unlikely that you are from either one. A third Earth as it were?"

"Which Earth?" Rittenberg said more forcefully.

"Now that would be telling," Serov answered.

Stealth Cruiser ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

High Cradle Orbit

Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

10 September 861 AS

Fleet Captain Kilgore 'Trout' Buchholz reviewed his mission. It was going to be tight. They were to investigate supposed Star League technology caches, retrieve them, and bring them back to ISA territory for study. Information on these was scarce to say the least. The source books, novels, and other information sources of the BattleTech universe weren't specific in their descriptions in how the caches were discovered nor were they descriptive of other technology discovered on these 'memory cores.' The level of security, what was found along the way, everything else was a bit of a void.

Buchholz was picked to lead the pure native ISA contingent to hunt the Von Braun and prevent their discovery of the planet Columbus. This was essential, as the Von Braun was scheduled to find the planet within a couple of years. They already had the coordinates for the system, as the system hadn't been forgotten, simply their contents. It would be trivial to beat the Von Braun there. Then came their second objective: capture the Von Braun without ComStar realizing their JumpShip had fallen into someone else's hands. That was more difficult, but they had an ace up their sleeve for that one: electronic warfare.

ISA intelligence had noted that the forces of the BattleTech universe do not utilize malware attacks or proper electronic system penetration as a core tenant in their warfare. Against the relatively simple systems of common battlefield hardware, this was irrelevant. The systems were easy to override for the operator and reduced battlefield effectiveness would be mitigated by other forces. However, tests were run against the captured mainframes of the JumpShips currently in their possession, and breaking their security was much easier than any system the ISA was used to penetrating. What made things even better was the HPG transmitters supposedly installed on the supposed JumpShip class of the vessel, the Magellan-class. This was going to be a penetration test of supposedly the most advanced faction in the Inner Sphere and perhaps the greatest intelligence coup they have achieved since arriving in-universe.

Preparations were complete. Fighters and bombers replaced with a few transport vessels and their vehicles. Cargo Bays emptied out and ready for any and every piece of gear they could possibly haul back. Scientists, Doctors, small research teams ready to begin analysis on board. Marines ready to do their duty in any environment, including zero-g. There was little else for it. It was time to get underway.

Stealth Cruiser ISV Irulan

High Earth Orbit

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

Three cruisers, three missions, same purpose. The Gaius Helen Mohiam was assigned Columbus. If they succeeded, they may even establish a military presence there. The Lady Jessica had the distinction of infiltrating the Free Worlds League and finding New Dallas. There was a 'memory core' there which apparently was almost like a time capsule of the era, storing data not only of the Star League, but also the rest of the Successor States. It would be invaluable to Earth and the ISA. The Irulan on the other hand had potentially the most dangerous mission, escorting the trade mission to Helm. It was not dangerous in terms of death or bodily harm. It was dangerous in that if anyone realized that the ISA possessed what the BattleTech universe considered 'WarShips,' that could turn the entire Inner Sphere against them. They were not able to wage war against an entire galaxy, even if they were all decently primitive. Numbers mattered, and sheer weight of numbers would cause cracks eventually.

So, to keep the rest of the galaxy in the shadows, the Irulan would shadow the 'trade mission' to Helm from a decent distance. Any optical detection systems would focus on the apparent traders and not catch the massive cruiser assigned to keep them safe. If things did get hairy, they would try and provide assistance from as far away as possible. It was probably the most problematic of the Stealth Cruiser assignments, but that was why one of the best was being assigned to personally ensure that the operation went off without a hitch.

Bashar Lucas Anderson entered his new ready room. It was still quite impersonal, but that would change as the mission made its way across the Inner Sphere. This was not a particularly new experience for him. He was recently thawed out, among the next batch of people thawed out as Cradle's capacity increased. The progress being made was made much easier thanks to the now consistent trade established between Earth and Cradle. He was happy to be off ice and back in the saddle.

One Invader-class JumpShip and a Union-Class DropShip were assigned as his charges. They were more heavily armed and armored than their contemporaries, but the Invader-class was still limited in its jump distance. There was only so far the ISA could push the Kearny-Fuchida Drives native to the Inner Sphere. The distance was pitiful by ISA standards, as was the jump charge time. It was readily apparent that while the Inner Sphere could make jump drives, they couldn't improve upon them. The ISA had already done that, but these drives were primitive. Scientists on Earth were already given the underlying science behind the ISA's drive cores and were working on creating their own ships.

He shoved all the errant thoughts from his mind and focused. The designs for merchandise to be manufactured when on Helm was already in the fabricator database, the crews were nearly ready to depart. Like the other two missions, he had to succeed. So, he would.

Stealth Cruiser ISV Lady Jessica

Waypoint 1

Shia System, Periphery Space

The Lady Jessica had gotten a head start on its mission, thanks to quick preparations by the Russians. They were already salivating for this one, looking for the right people to represent Earth's interests in this expedition. The coordinates were laid in, and they would arrive in the system in a matter of a couple of months. It would have been faster, but in order to maintain stealth, the cruisers had to ensure that their exit points were undetectable, thus operating the jump drives in 'stealth mode.' This would be the case for all the missions, but it was an annoyance nonetheless.

Fleet Captain Marie Anahera commanded the Lady Jessica. She was among the first to be brought out of 'cold storage' when the ISA made universe-fall. She had witnessed their growth and incorporation of Earth. Now, she was off to New Dallas to find a supposed buried 'memory core' long before it was supposed to have been discovered. The potential was incredible, as was the risk. If ComStar caught wind, they would try their damnedest to stop them. They were the most advanced faction in the Sphere and drawing their ire wouldn't be wise at this point. So, secrecy.

The Earth-born team attached to them were a mix of military and civilian. They had their own research teams and wetwork operatives and they wanted to see if they could perform missions like this off-world. Their first operations on Antallos were a resounding success, but this was a different kind of operation. Could they hang with the best the ISA had to offer? Anahera was eager to find out.

DropShip Distant Home

Port Kirin

Antallos System, Periphery Space

11 September 3021

The casualty list he went over didn't quite make sense. The ISA First Combined Army faced off against a lot of 'Mechs, fighters, vehicles, and infantry. If the After-Action Reports were correct, they had shattered two battalions of pirate 'Mechs and at least another battalion's worth of 'Mechs, infantry, vehicles and infantry from the city-states. Casualties? Out of the entirety of the First Combined Army, ten dead, fifty wounded. None of them belonged to the Buron Cavalry. It was as if they were Gods descending upon lesser creatures. Major Andreas Staedele was relieved. He didn't have to write any letters, and his company was even better off for it. Repairs were still fairly extensive. Even if your casualties were low, you still had to maintain your equipment between sorties, and the ISA had been running them ragged. Three days of near continuous fighting. Even with the hits from their transports in orbit, the deployed forces on the ground were still the ones bearing the brunt of the engagements.

The firepower of the upgrades bestowed upon them by their patrons at the ISA were properly combat tested during the battle for Port Kirin, and by God did they work a treat. Multiple hairy situations where he or a lance mate would have been done for were completely salvaged by the new equipment. Too many times in the course of the last three days he had seen shots that should have knocked him right the hell out of the battle completely negated by the new toys installed. The pulse lasers sliced away SRMs headed for his cockpit. The shields took damage that should have chewed his old armor to shreds. His new armor shrugged off damage that should have shattered it. He was able to see farther and coordinate better than he could have ever imagined in the past. The armor needed repair after most of the subsequent skirmishes, the shields weren't invincible, but it had saved him and his pilots from worlds of hurt.

Captain Johnson entered his cramped office, a huge smile on his face.

"Major Staedele!" he greeted, obviously happy.

"Johnson, good to see you." Staedele motioned for him to sit down, "What's the word?"

"Oh, nothing groundbreaking except that the First Army Engineers are beginning to work on the barracks and 'Mech bays."

"Why would you be so happy about that?" Staedele asked.

"Oh, I'm not, but I thought I would be the first to tell you that today is 'free drink day' in Port Kirin."

"What?"

"The ISA thought it would be a good idea to let everyone to blow off some steam, so 'notable elements of the First Army's major combat elements are invited to partake in a rousing celebration in the city.' At least, that's what the official notice says." Johnson handed across a sheet of paper.

Staedele looked it over, "Well, shit. Get the company together and tell them to meet up on the ramp. Get some ground transport for us and make sure everything is locked up tight." He smiled, "It's time to party."

"Hell yes!"

Buster's Busted Bar

Natalie Rosswood enjoyed the hospitality of Port Kirin. It helped greatly that they were the conquering heroes and the ISA footed the bill for the day. They certainly knew how to keep their people happy. Jacob Morgan and Dani MacShuibhne were beside her, playing catchup. Dani, despite her size, could hold her own against Natalie. They had many a drinking contest in their now six years of history together. Jacob was no lightweight either but was much more conscientious of how fast he was drinking. In the time the three had known one another, Morgan was always ribbed because he liked to take his time with a drink.

Buster's was completely occupied, packed wall to wall with ISA personnel. This was very much different from Morgan's previous experience on world. He had to stick to the shadows, be a no one, have no face. Now he was among his peers, celebrating a great victory, but he found the habit hard to shake. Being understated and invisible were his forte, and to break such habits would require more social lubrication. Dani and Natalie were more than happy to oblige, shoving drinks at Morgan as soon as he finished one.

Lieutenant Commander Simeonov entered the party, smiling ear to ear. His 'Mech squad followed in close after, Hale and Koltan ragging on one another as they arrived.

"Jesus, 'sir,' I didn't think they could possibly make target any goddamn bigger." Koltan said, commenting on their most recent sortie.

"Just because I killed that Shadowhawk and you didn't-" Hale was interrupted.

"That's because the bastard tried to Highlander your ass!" Koltan retorted with a laugh.

"Hey, I'll take an enemy's stupidity any day of the week, Indry. Any day of the week."

"Still, the guy collapsed your shields with the impact." Simeonov noted, "You shouldn't have let the guy get so close."

"If we've got the tools, we should use 'em." Hale crossed him arms sagely, "Any advantage, any leverage over the enemy. Let them make mistakes and I'll happily punish them for it."

"If they don't kill ya first, am I right Commander?" Koltan asked with a smile.

"You're not wrong, Lieutenant. You're not wrong. Now," Simeonov clapped his hands together dramatically, "Why are we not getting drinks, eh? Come on! Get to the bar!"

His squad pushed through the crowd to reach their objective. This was a time of joyous celebration, to congratulate themselves on a job well done. The bar filled with noise as the festivities continued through the night into the early morning…

Conference Room, ISV Stilgar

Low Antallos Orbit

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

18 September 2006/3021/861 AS

The initial combat deployments were over. The ISA was transitioning into an occupational/governance role. The ISV Shadout Mapes had been sent back to Earth and Cradle to retrieve supplies and gather more personnel to help govern Port Kirin and in time all of Antallos. They had the numbers and mobility to do so now, but establishing infrastructure was the biggest hurdle in properly governing a civilian populace. Port Kirin was full of cottage industries, mom-and-pop establishments hampered by centuries of bureaucracy that needed to be shattered in order to let native industries flourish. Programs were being written up and implemented to allow these small businesses to operate and thrive.

The big item today was establishing infrastructure and what was being done to establish control of Port Kirin. Serov gathered his remaining major COs and members of the united Corps of Engineers: Bashar Yuki Nagato, General Don Davis, Colonel Kent Ashwood and Colonel Vadim Kuznetsov. The Americans and Russians had the most experience on Earth when it came to logistics and support for large scale operations and having some of their best engineers in the First Combined Army was a blessing.

"So, everyone," Serov began, "where do we currently stand in terms of establishing Port Kirin as an actual city?"

"Bashar, it's a bit of a mess if we're honest." Ashwood replied, "The city hardly has power, the water and sewage system is a shambles, and roads need some serious work."

"Da, Bashar." agreed Kuznetsov, "We are glad that your vessels can provide small fusion generators, but we will need a bigger long-term solution to provide the population and ourselves the power necessary to remain on world indefinitely. At least, up to our standards."

"From the survey reports I've received, this city's ruins have a lot of potential building material, not to mention all of the buried tech" Davis said.

"The General is correct." Stated Yuki, "Our sensors have detected a lot of buried technology from centuries past. We can employ some of the local salvage houses to retrieve this for us and pay them for it, clearing the way for more infrastructure projects."

"I like that." Serov noted, "Maybe, just maybe, we can use this tech. If not, we can ship it to Earth and Cradle and let them tear it apart and see what we can do with it." Serov shifted his attention to the pair of Colonels, "Gents, what is your timetable for getting functioning power, water, and sewage to the city?"

"Water isn't as bad as we initially thought it would be," Ashwood admitted, "It's a shambles, but there is existing infrastructure we can work with. With Earth technology, it would be difficult to expand upon the original Star League-era plumbing, but with your construction drones this shouldn't be too big of a problem. We're looking at a timetable of about a few months to get all the areas that need water plumbed up."

"The big problem is the sewage system." Kuznetsov said, "The current system just spews shit without treatment into an outlet channel, and we do not know where that goes. Building a sewage treatment plant is a must here, and using your designs that should take, again, a few months."

"Will 'persuading' the local bureaucracy be a problem?" Serov asked.

"Don't worry about that." Davis replied with a smile, "I have Colonel Kurita on that."

Vorax's Former Palace

Port Kirin

Colonel Kurita stood at a podium in the former gathering room of Vorax's former palace. Civilian administration was just underway, and it was obvious from the start that the bureaucracy that survived would not be cooperative in the reconstruction of Port Kirin. They kept throwing up ancient rules and regulations to try and stop the new administrators of the city, but they were most effective when just dragging their feet. After more than a week of dealing with these inefficiencies, the ISA decided that enough was enough. If they didn't want to cooperate, then…

"Everyone!" Colonel Kurita commanded, "I am sure you all know who I am at this point, but I will repeat it for those of you who have poor memory. I am Colonel Chou Kurita, and I have the 'pleasure' of interfacing with you bureaucrats today." He looked about the room. It was filled with all the surviving cysts and boils that called themselves 'city administrators.' They kept dragging their feet, resisting change. Well, no longer.

"I understand that all of you have witnessed the rise and fall of multiple leaders of Port Kirin. You think you are indispensable, that without you the city will not function. I assure you, gentlemen, there is nothing further from the truth." Kurita paused for dramatic effect, "Over the past few days, we have begun our reconstruction projects. Over those days, you have attempted to stall our efforts at every turn. Well, as a reward for such behavior, you're done."

The assembled bureaucrats sat in silence.

"We have everything we need from your offices, and you are all officially fired. Gather your personal effects from your offices and leave in an orderly fashion. You have an hour to fulfill this order. If you do not, then you will be forcibly ejected from the building, and all of your current possessions still on government property will be property of the Independent Systems Alliance. I leave you to it. Good day."

Kurita left the podium and out the back door, a chorus of noise rose behind him before the door shut. Just beyond the door was ISA Lieutenant Palesa Pretorius, his assigned technical expert.

"Do we have complete control of their mainframe and all of their databases?" Kurita asked the young Lieutenant as they walked to the Administration Office.

"Yes, Colonel." Pretorius replied, "We have backups and a real-time mirror to the Commodore Perry. It's encrypted over-air for now, but as soon as we have a hardline cable, we'll switch to that. That shouldn't be long."

"Good work, Lieutenant. How tough are these BT systems to interface with?" Kurita asked.

"Childs play, Colonel. Their architecture is so similar to the early ARPANET from ancient history. Our systems cracked their 'encryption' in a matter of moments."

"Good."

"Colonel," the Lieutenant began, "Will we have a problem with these administrators?"

"Not in the slightest, Lieutenant." Kurita said with the smile, "If they are, then the street is wide open for them."

Stealth Cruiser ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

Non-Standard Jump Point

Epsilon Pegasus System, Periphery Space

13 October 2006/861 AS

"We're here." Fleet Captain Buchholz said to himself. Sensor data was beginning to flood in from the system. They were right on the money when it came to Columbus. There was a large naval drydock facility in orbit, along with a system of satellites still orbiting the planet. Columbus looked like an untouched jewel from an era long past. He was excited. This could be a veritable treasure trove of technology, not to mention a real base that the ISA could use to fortify its position.

"Sir," the sensors officer called, "nothing moving on the scope. System is quiet."

"Satellites are non-responsive to our hails." Comms called, "I don't think they're active."

"Helm, bring us into orbit over the drydock." Buchholz commanded, "I want to see if we can patch into these satellites and communicate with the drydock. Also, I would love if we could get some system patrols. Get some transports on it."

"Sir," tactical responded, "transport teams report ready for deployment."

"Send them out. Majority go planet-side." Buchholz ordered. The bridge went to work, carrying out their duties, "What secrets does this planet hold, I wonder…"

Columbus Facility

Columbus

Epsilon Pegasus, Periphery Space

A pair of transports landed on the obvious landing pad, quickly deploying tanks, IFVs, and infantry. The ISA wanted to see what the planet held, and they never messed around when it came to explore the unknown. If they could, they always deployed at least a full transport's worth of equipment. The troops were greeted by the sound of rain, their fully-sealed combat uniforms protecting them from the elements. Lieutenant Commander Ji-Eun Song looked at her HUD, confirming the atmospheric composition. It was well within safe for them to breathe, but they didn't want to expose themselves to the rain if they didn't need to.

"Command, this is Commander Song." She called over the comms, "Atmosphere is safe. We're proceeding to enter the facility, over."

"Buchholz to Song," The comms responded, "roger. Proceed with caution. If you need to split up, do it in pairs. We don't know if people are still alive in there, and they may want to fight, over."

"Confirmed, Command. Song out." She switched to ground comms, "Alright, people, find a door and start slicing it open. Let's avoid blowing anything up unless we have to." She motioned for three others to follow her to a door.

Two of them slung their rifles over their shoulders and brandished a pair of cutting tools. The doors were heavily oxidized and needed a little help to open. After a few minutes of cutting through the rusted metal seam, the door finally opened. Two by two, the four soldiers began to file into the facility, searching for hostiles. Their HUDs displayed no movement, and their initial search of the entryway revealed no immediate threat. Posting her soldiers in good covering positions, Commander Song searched for a light switch. She found one. Hitting the switch, the lights came alive, revealing a dusty but intact facility. It appeared they had entered a large common room. Bulky computer terminals, chairs, tables and a kitchen greeted their eyes. More soldiers entered. Song motioned for them to spread out throughout the facility, combing it, ensuring that they were alone.

"A pair of you guard the door." Song ordered, "You three, with me. We're pushing further in."

Song and her element carefully advanced through the facility. They passed offices, living quarters, and what looked like some dedicated research wing. They noted all of it for the science teams that would descend later and examine the base. As they pressed forward, they noted the signs of struggle. Some level of conflict had occurred here. Signs were everywhere: upturned furniture, dents in the walls, scratches on doors. Something happened here. The small group entered a motor pool. Inside were at least a dozen vehicles, all awaiting use. In the center of the room, on a track leading into a tunnel, sat what looked like a sedan. She approached the vehicle, looking into the dusted-over windows. Inside she saw a pair of desiccated bodies, their shriveled eyes stared straight ahead. She examined the doors. They all had scratch marks, the side panels even displayed light dents.

"What happened to you?" she wondered aloud.

A blip appeared on her HUD, somewhere above her. Quickly, she shouldered her rifle and motioned to her soldiers. They all nodded, taking covering positions. The lights flickered for a moment. Song gripped her rifle tight and switched her view to infrared. Her eyes scanned where the blip appeared. A heat signature was moving above them, along the catwalks.

"You! Up there!" Song announced, "Come on down, and you don't get hurt!"

The heat signature continued to move, tracing along the catwalks until finally one gave way. The heat blob landed on one of the APCs, pressing themselves tightly to the roof. She switched back to visual light and turned on her flashlight. She shined it above the APC, her soldiers following suit.

"Get up!" She ordered, "Slowly, stand up!"

The former blob stood up on top of the APC, both hands above his head, one holding a pistol. The man appeared very old in a tattered uniform, his eyes fierce, looking nearly mad. His eyes locked with hers.

"Where?" the man demanded, his voice sounding of rocks ground together. It was as if he hadn't had a drink of water in years.

"Throw us the weapon." Song ordered. The old man tossed one of the soldiers his pistol.

"Where-are-you-from?" he croaked. Speech was a problem for the man, that much was obvious.

"Get off the vehicle, then we'll talk. Down the front."

Slowly the old man crept forward, stepping then climbing down the APC. Song motioned for one of the soldiers to restrain the man from behind. She and the remaining two kept their weapons leveled on the man, ready to fire in case he tried anything drastic. His arms safely bound, and the man crouched, she retracted her face mask into her helmet. She knelt down and offered the man a drink of her canteen. He nodded, taking a few deep gulps, nearly emptying the canteen.

"Okay, how the hell did you get up there?" She asked.

"I… I woke up." He replied, his mind calming a bit.

"Woke up from what?" she pressed.

"I… we were…. We were frozen. Put into stasis."

"Why?"

"We had to survive." He blinked a few times, refocusing himself.

"Are there more of you?"

He remained silent.

"We're not here to hurt you."

"Where are you from?" He asked again.

"We come representing Earth." She said, knowing the full answer would simply confuse the poor man.

"Terra?"

"Earth."

"What?" He stared at her in disbelief.

"Commander, we've got something here." Her comms called.

She stood up, nodding for two of her men to take the bound man away, "Go." She answered.

"Ma'am, we have a full on cryo-chamber here. Tapped into the computer, we have two-hundred and forty-nine people in active cryostasis."

"Roger. I'll send to Command." She switched channels, "Command, Song."

"Go Song." Buchholz replied.

"We have an active cryo-chamber here. Two-hundred-forty-nine in stasis. Send down medical. Over."

"Roger, Song. We'll send down medical after we deal with this new situation."

"What situation, Command?" Song asked.

"The Von Braun is here, far ahead of schedule."

Bridge, ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

Dry Dock Orbit

"Any indication they've seen us?" Buchholz asked his sensors officer.

"No, sir. They're still at the nadir jump point, examining the system." Sensors replied.

"Good. Tactical, prepare electronic warfare suite. See if you can gain access into their systems." Buchholz ordered.

"Yes, sir." Tactical replied.

"After that, get our closest transport over there and board the vessel. Our people know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

JumpShip Von Braun

Nadir Jump Point

Epsilon Pegasus System, Periphery Space

Precentor Gabriel Ormus had a bad feeling about today. They had just jumped into the system, and by Blake something felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but an ominous feeling was there, like a terrible premonition. Scans from jumping in system indicated no contacts, but something was coming.

The Explorer Corps of ComStar oversaw charting systems, discovering previously lost worlds, and finding lostech. They had already charted many worlds, and there were records in the archives that indicated that Columbus may have been an old Star League-era base. If there was lostech here, that would need to be claimed and preserved. They could not allow it to fall into the hands of any of the Successor States or, worse, some backwater Periphery power.

"Is there anything out there?" Ormus asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, Precentor." Answered comms Adept X Sherill Trent, "If there's anyone out there, they're staying quiet."

"Precentor," sensors Adept VII Kohn Raoul called, "there are some satellites and even a drydock orbiting Columbus."

"Well, that was more than expected." Precentor Ormus commented, "Bring us in. I want to see what we have-"

"Precentor," interrupted Trent, "incoming HPG transmission!"

"Who is it?" Ormus asked.

"Unknown, but the connection is active, and they are transmitting a lot of data." She looked over the streams of data coming in, "None of this makes any sense…"

"What? Is Terra sending encrypted orders? Run it through-"

"We've lost the jump drive!" the helm yelled, "I can't bring up the fusion drives! We're dead in space!"

"How? I don't-"

"Sensors just went down! Weapons, even the self-destruct! We're locked out!" Raoul called.

Just then, they all heard an impact on the hull. No shaking, no explosions. That ruled out weapons fire. Ormus' inner ear detected no change in pressure, so no hull breach. There was only one possible answer. Ormus drew his sidearm and made for the door. He nearly spat his next word.

"Boarders!"

ISA Transport Ship

Nadir Jump Point

"You're all clear." Comms of the ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam called to the transport, "Happy hunting."

"Thank you, Mohiam. Proceeding with mission." Replied Lieutenant Commander Ainsley Thorne, "Begin docking." She ordered the pilot.

Silently, the transport vessel glided into place, mating with one of the docking collars. The boarding crew was ready, poised to breech the port. The locking mechanism quickly cycled through the docking collar sequences and opened the door. On the other side, four Com Guard soldiers opened fire, trying to kill whoever was trying to invade their vessel. The shots found no purchase, completely absorbed by the shield between them. The Com Guard were stunned, not knowing how to react. The ISA soldiers gave them little time to ponder their thoughts, as well-placed suppressed fire killed the poor souls in short order. Carefully, ISA Marines began to advance into the microgravity environment. Weapons up, suits sealed, they proceeded into the belly of the Von Braun. They had full control of the ship. Now, to use it…

Cargo Hold, JumpShip Von Braun

Adept VII Carlyle Noon was in trouble. Significant trouble. He cowered behind a shipping crate as he cradled his sidearm. His hands shook. He watched two individuals as they made their way through one of the docking collars alongside the cargo hold. They were equipped with fully sealed armor, dark, nearly skintight. Their helms obscured their faces, and their weapons were not anything he was ever familiar with. Two Com Guards attempted to hold off the invaders on this second point, but were quickly dispatched, their bodies and blood floating lazily before being secured against a bulkhead.

More soldiers poured in and began to establish a perimeter. Noon had served in the Com Guard briefly before being transferred to the Explorer Corps. These people, whoever they were, were much more professional than any military operatives he had ever seen. They were well armed, armored, and made no fun of their duty. They had a clear objective and they were here to achieve that.

Noon, for all his years of loyalty, couldn't see many options. He had no hope against people like these, and the needler in his hand would not be enough to kill even one before they decorated the hold with the interior of his body. He made the only real decision available to him. He surrend-.

"Come on out." A voice commanded from above. He glanced up and saw two muzzles clearly pointed at his head. Two operators stood above him, somehow staying glued to the ceiling.

"I, I surrender." He said, releasing his sidearm. One of the operators descended from the ceiling and secured the needler while the other landed behind him and restrained him. Arms and legs bound, he was pushed through the docking collar into what appeared to be a large hold. In the corner of the hold were various members of the Von Braun similarly restrained and secured. There were a few more of those armored and helmeted figures tending to some of his peers, treating their wounds. Others were keeping his peers under close watch. He was floated among them and secured to a hook.

"I see they caught you with your pants down, Noon." Muttered one of the captives.

Noon sought the voice and locked eye with, "Precentor?"

"We tried to prevent them from reaching the bridge, but whoever they are, they're better armed and armored than us." Ormus shook his head, "Also, as some of our peers can attest, our combat training exercises were severely lacking. Microgravity combat is not what we expected, and these people are well trained for it."

Noon looked closer at his superior, "What happened to your face, Precentor?" he asked, noting the purple color.

"Ah, yes." Ormus winced, "They were securing the others, and I tried to make a break for it. Well, you can see the result of that."

Noon leaned in close, "What about the garrison?" he asked quietly.

"They are holding the drive section as best they can. These people have seized complete control of our systems somehow. We were locked out of everything when they stormed the ship. If we have any hope, it rests with the remaining Com Guard."

Distant gunfire interrupted the pair.

"That's us." Ormus whispered, "Blake bless the Com Guard, may they free us from-"

More gunfire and some distant screaming.

"-the shackles of these uncivilized-"

"Sorry, they didn't make it." One of their custodians interrupted, their head appearing between them upside down.

"What?" Noon sputtered out.

"Yeah. They're… well." The helmed figure made a motion with their hand across their throat, indicating the Com Guard's fate. "To be fair, we have complete control of your ship and we outnumber your dedicated combatants at least two-to-one."

"How? How do you know how many people crew our vessel?" Ormus asked, indignant.

"You'll find out soon enough, Precentor." The figure responded, "I'm sure you'll be happy to be done with a long deployment away. We're gonna take you home."

"What home? Yours?" he muttered.

"Well, not ours per se, but close enough to yours. I'm sure you'll want to return to Earth, right?" they asked.

"Earth…" Ormus mulled that over a moment, "Terra? What happened to Terra!?" A furious gleam took his eyes. Ormus was ready for another fight, despite his injuries.

"Nothing. Don't worry, you'll learn everything soon enough. Now, I think it's time to go to bed, don't you think?"

The figure injected him with some sort of syringe. Quickly, Ormus released his grip on consciousness. The last thing he saw was the dark glass of the figure's helm as he slipped into involuntary sleep.

Bridge, ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

Dry Dock Orbit

Fleet Captain Buchholz looked at the holo-image of the transport pulling the crippled Von Braun to them, along with the mission accomplished signal from the crew of the transport. They had managed to capture the crew of the Von Braun, except the Com Guard. They had all been killed in the ensuing combat. Now he had a ComStar JumpShip for the ISA to study, along with its crew to interrogate. He noted he would have to send them back to Earth for processing. With the immediate threat of discovery by ComStar done, they would be clear to make faster jumps back to Earth as soon as they repaired any damage inflicted to the JumpShip. This dry dock still held secrets, and they needed to determine if they could use the facility to administer the appropriate repairs.

"Sir," sensors called, "we have something here."

"What is it?" Buchholz asked.

"An automated beacon of some kind. We must have missed it in our last orbit of this lunar dry dock."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, take a look." They brought up an image of three massive, heavily damaged DropShips collared to the dry dock, "According to the database, this is a Colossus-class DropShip, but as you can see it's been savaged by something. The other is a Colossus, and the third, looks like a Mammoth but we aren't quite sure on that."

"Got it." Buchholz thought a moment, "This dry dock is a massive complex. We're going to need at least two transports to take control of this place and see exactly what we're dealing with. Tell the patrolling units to regroup on us and prepare to seize the facility. We're also going to have to clear those DropShips." He turned to his comms officer, "Tell Thorne to bring the Von Braun to the dry dock, post haste. Also, send a message to Merlow. We're going to want backup here."

"Yes, sir." Comms responded.

Port Kirin

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

15 October 2006/3021/861 AS

The first of the civilian crews had finally arrived. They were reliant on the JumpShips they were seized during the Battle for Earth, so their jump drives were not nearly as capable as their ISA counterparts, but they still achieved the trip in about a month. Word had come from Port Kirin of a need for administrative staff, skilled workers, and industrial specialists to help get the city back on its feet. Several DropShips were reassigned to be sent back to Earth to establish a more robust supply chain. The ISA were slowly restarting the logistical portions of their fleet, so for now upgraded BT ships were going to have to shoulder the burden of supply and trade. It helped that they had seized the pirate DropShips that were a part of Redjack Ryan's forces and pressed them into service. The ISA had already established a decently formidable base on the far side of the civilian spaceport. They had their own dedicated spaceport, and the ground presence was already expansive.

Assistant Commissioner Katie Garland raised her hand to block out the harsh light from Antallos' star. She was assigned from Cradle to help jump start Port Kirin's policing and civil service efforts. Earth and the ISA had already begun sending out feelers to determine the depth of Port Kirin's criminal underworld, but there was hardly a civilian law enforcement presence. It was her job to begin the process and bring law, order, and peace to this chaotic land.

She had just cleared customs and looked around for her contact. She was told that a military official would be driving her to the administration building. She was waiting in the new arrivals lounge in the renovated spaceport. She was already seeing signs of civilized normalcy. Local businesses had rented some of the commercial space, peddling their wares to those were arriving and departing. In time, Earth's and Cradle's businesses would have a significant presence here, but that was in time when more goods flowed between the worlds. It would take longer than a month for even the most established businesses to begin spreading their corporate wares.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted them: a young solider in BDUs holding a sign with her name on it. She hurried over to them, her luggage in tow.

"Commissioner Garland?" the soldier asked as she approached.

"Yes, and you are?" she asked

"Lieutenant Youcef El-Mofty, ma'am." The young man responded. He took her both her rolling luggage in hand and began walking her to the waiting ground car.

"So, how's the whole law and order thing looking so far?"

"Let's just say that the MPs are looking forward to taking a reduced role in law enforcement." El-Mofty replied, "I know Lieutenant Colonel Xun Li will be quite happy to have you taking his job."

"Ah. Do I have a staff?"

"I'll let Colonel Li fill you in on that."

Port Kirin Administration Building (Vorax's former Palace)

They arrived at the Administration Building with no real incident. Garland noted that the main roads were all paved, a hell of an accomplishment in a short amount of time. It smacked of the ISA's construction drones.

At least that means the military is paying attention to the population. Garland thought to herself.

Outside the doors of the building they were saluted by the guards and let in. Lieutenant El-Mofty stayed behind. He said something about dropping her stuff off at her new home. She paid it no mind and proceeded inside. She was told directions to the police offices by reception and entered her new workplace.

Within she was greeted by the image of a haggard Chinese officer in an ISA military uniform slumped over his desk, staring into a holo-display.

She cleared her throat, "Excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel Xun?" she asked.

The man's eyes darted to meet hers, "Oh, thank you." He said, exasperated, "You are finally here."

"Did I catch you at a bad time, Colonel?"

He shook his head, "Not in the slightest. You are Assistant Commissioner Katie Garland, correct?"

"That's me." She stepped forward and extended her hand, "I assume this job's not been forgiving, Colonel?"

"That is correct." He stood up and shook her hand, "Please, call me Li."

"Sure. Call me Katie, then." She looked around the office, "You seem a little short-staffed, Li."

"That is an understatement, Katie." He looked around, "We have plenty of soldiers, but in terms of proper administration, we are quite lacking."

"That's a problem this first batch of folks is supposed to fix." She said, sitting down, "Now, if you could bring me up to speed."

"Certainly." Li changed the holo-display information, "Now, we have more than a few problems. Our largest are the organized crime groups. They peddle drugs, protection rackets, smuggling, you name it, here in Port Kirin. The Russians have provided plenty of support from their former SVR officers on this matter, but the fact still remains that they are a large hole we are looking to plug when it comes to the safety and security of the city."

"What's your approach been with them?" Garland asked.

"We have attempted to stomp them out of existence with force." He replied.

"Excuse me?"

"We have MPs out there hunting for these organizations, but they remain elusive."

Garland sighed, "You're joking, right?"

"I assure you, we are doing everything we can to-"

"Colonel, what is your law enforcement and civil service experience?" Garland asked, her eye slightly twitching.

"I served in the People's Republic Army as a liaison to the People's Armed Police. Why do you ask, Katie?"

"Ah. That explains a lot, actually. Li, do you mind if I'm brutally honest here?"

"Please. Law enforcement is not my vocation, so enlighten me."

"That is the exact opposite of what you should be doing."

"How so?"

"Military force doesn't exactly translate into effective policing. Do we have over a hundred-thousand soldiers stationed on Antallos? Yes. Are soldiers police officers, community counselors, or first responders? No. MPs still think like soldiers. I'm really glad I'm getting a proper staff here today, because I know how we're going to solve this problem."

That moment more proper police officers and community service personnel arrived in the office. Li motioned them to begin taking the numerous empty desks around them.

"Ah, good." Garland commented, "We can begin some real work. You want to see how we'll solve the problem, Li?"

"Of course." Li replied.

"Hearts and minds first. Everything comes from that. We show the people we are to be trusted, that we are the ones they should call when they need help. Trust, Li. We establish trust."

Li nodded sagely as the myriad of staff began to settle in. This was going to be difficult, but building a community always was.

The Office of Civil Administration was filling up today. The first wave of civilians took their desks and began to settle into their new roles. General Davis and Bashar Serov requested a batch of experienced administrators and workers to assist in the transition. They had a daunting task ahead of them: training the locals on how to properly run their City. Rules and regulations were being written and rewritten. Projects were reviewed and approved. Salvage teams were being reorganized from the numerous small businesses that specialized in that sort of thing (initial clearing of the battlefield was nearly done). Utilities were being organized. Tax structure discussed. Clinic locations discussed. Civilian communications methods. All the things that came with running a city, and eventually a planet.

Organization was something that the ISA planners needed and needed now. The military had laid the groundwork for the civilian administration. It was now their job to get the ball rolling.

Columbus Drydock

Columbus Moon

Epsilon Pegasus System, Periphery Space

It was the second day of surveying the lunar drydock. For some inexplicable reason, this ancient Star League facility had been carved out of the moon itself. The complex was sprawling, corridors and tunnels wound throughout the moon. Hundreds of kilometers of construction went into the complex, belying the time and effort put into the facility. Even with a company's worth of soldiers scouring the drydock, they had barely scratched the surface. Evidence of battle lay all over. Bodies littered the stale air, their desiccated remains preserved by the recirculated sterile atmosphere. They had already begun to gather the bodies, properly storing them for burial. They made sure to record all their names and properly mark the containers. It was going to be a time-consuming process to autopsy all the bodies, but there were other problems to attend to.

Someone, or something, was watching them. There were sporadic alerts from the base indicating movement alerts from sections they did not inhabit. They had not come close to mapping the entirety of the base, and many of the indicated sections were portions not explored yet. They had found access to the main security hub of the drydock and had established a real-time link with the Mohiam, but even with the ship's immense processing power behind it they couldn't detect the errant ghost. The base's internal sensors just weren't sophisticated enough to find it. So, the soldiers currently scouring the base would have to rely on their own sensors and instinct.

Lieutenant Commander Ashley Thorne lead her element through the halls. She kept her breath steady, relying on her armor's air filtration system instead directly breathing the station's air. There was something ominous hanging in the artificial atmosphere. Maybe somewhere in the facility were more cryo-stasis tubes waiting to be awoken. Maybe base sentries had been activated and were watching them, trying to determine their intent.

She halted at an open door. She motioned two of her soldiers to head in and begin room clearance. With practiced precision, they burst into the room. Their scanners and eyes darted all around. They searched for threats, carefully checked for traps and other potential dangers.

"Clear!"

"Clear!" Thorne finished. She lowered her rifle and looked around the room. In the center, on a table, lay a suit of armor. She took a good look at it. It was definitely a light power armor design, green in color, sleek yet solid in construction. She noted the design decisions. There were retractable weapons embedded in the arms and over a shoulder. She carefully lifted the suit, noting the weight was a bit off in the reduced gravity environment. It felt heavier than it should. The back looked like a small jump pack, something slightly bulkier than their own but looked effective. She shouldered her rifle and scanned the armor with her omni-tool.

"Gods…" She breathed, "There's a live person in here…"

"Ma'am?" one of the soldiers asked, "What is it?"

"You two, take this person over to medical. Still alive." She mentally dialed her comms, "Thorne to medical team. You have an armored individual incoming. Unconscious. Keep them sedated and keep me appraised. Out."

She took mental note of the situation as two of her soldiers took the armored figure out of the room. There were already reports of someone or something in the facility with them, and now they had someone else here. Alive and unconscious. She did not want this turning into some sort of horror scenario where she and her people were picked off one by one. Two more of her soldiers entered the room to replace those she had sent back with the armored body.

"Ma'am," one of them began, "we're ready to breech the main server room. I think you wanted to be there?"

"That I did. Thank you, Ensign."

The element left the room. As they exited, an invisible figure peered through their helmet and stepped forward from behind a cabinet. They followed and kept their distance.

"This is way too easy to crack." Quipped Lieutenant Mackenzie Grail as she opened the server room door, "Shouldn't security be more robust for a room like this?"

"We've been flung to how many universes now?" Sergeant Blake asked rhetorically, "I tend to just say 'huh' and move on."

"On Earth systems they have safeguards in place to prevent simple brute force attacks from working." She stated as they entered the room, "I've had to think in order to crack their security, and their higher-level stuff is damn impressive for their technical sophistication."

"What do we have, Lieutenant?" Thorne asked from behind them as she entered the room.

"Ma'am, we just got in." Grail plugged into the nearest server cluster, "Let's see what we can get off these things."

Information began to flood into the suit's storage, the suit's VI sorting through for the most relevant information. Grail remained still for a minute, trying to parse through the folders appearing on her HUD.

"There's a lot here, Commander. I recommend a data link to the Mohiam for the ship to parse through it."

"Do it." Thorne ordered.

Outside the room, the invisible figure watched the three armored individuals. One plugged a device into one of the servers, doing God knows what with the data. The one closest to them looked in charge. They gave orders and saw to the security of the room. Soldiers were posted outside the door. They would be difficult to breech, if the professionalism and expertise displayed were anything to go by. The figure took good note of the sophistication of equipment on display. The new arrival's armor was sleek, form fitting, and probably quite resilient. The weapons were of unknown make, but they supposed the effectiveness would be on par with the armor.

They pondered to themselves what to do. Should they attempt to stop them? Should they make contact with them? These newcomers did not reek of the Scavenger States, looking to pick the scraps of the venerable Star League to gain an advantage over one another. There was something different about them.

They were startled when the soldiers at the door assumed a combat stance.

"Ma'am!" one of them called, "Sensor ghost is back. Outside the room!" The other motioned to take cover within the doorway. They tapped the reporting soldier on the shoulder and retreated within.

They cursed silently to themselves. How? How did these people know they were there? The commanding soldier aimed her weapon down the doorway right at them.

"We know you're there!" the leader called, "Uncloak and you won't be harmed!"

Well, if they keep their promise, they live. They thought to themselves, If not, I can kill enough of them before they kill me.

The invisible figure deactivated their cloaking device, revealing an armored soldier almost identical to the one discovered by the group earlier. They aimed both of their arm mounted weapons at the ISA element.

"Why are you here, Successionists?" the unknown soldier asked, weapons ready.

"Lower your weapons, then we can talk." Thorne ordered. She gripped tightly onto her rifle.

"Forgive me if I do not trust you." The soldier continued, "You did invade my base, after all."

"Fair point." She thought quickly, "Okay, tell you what, on three we all lower our weapons. Deal?"

"…" The soldier remained silent.

"Do we have a deal?" Thorne repeated.

"Agreed."

"Alright. On the count of three. One."

The atmosphere tensed at the word.

"Two."

The soldier remained stoic.

"Three." The ISA soldiers lowered their weapons. The unknown soldier did the same. A tense air still hung between them, but it did not have the immediacy of violence over it.

Thorne approached the soldier and extended her hand, "Lieutenant Commander Thorne, Independent Systems Alliance."

The soldier looked Thorne up and down before they accepted the hand, "Lieutenant Zhi Hu, Star League Defense Force."

The pair walked over to Grail and Blake, the other soldiers following close behind, "So, Lieutenant Zhi, how long have you been awake?"

"Longer than you have been on the station." Hu responded.

"So, you've watched us work fairly closely."

"Of course, Commander. One has to know their enemy to defeat them."

"Given the League is defunct, I'd hardly call us enemies."

"You are examining our technology, looking to harness it. From my perspective, you seem no different than the Successor States."

Thorne laughed, "We're not one of them, I can assure you. We simply want to exist and thrive in this universe and bring Earth up with us."

"I'm sorry?" Hu was confused.

"Piqued your interest?"

"You come from Terra?"

"No, we come as patrons of Earth. Distinct, I can assure you."

Hu thought of the implications of this revelation. She spoke of 'Earth' as a separate entity from Terra, but the way it was mentioned suggested that they were the same somehow. What had happened in the years of stasis? These people were obviously extremely advanced, perhaps even more so than the Star League. Did they descend from General Kerensky's expedition? No, that would not make any sense. They knew of the Star League, certainly, but they were not of the Star League. They were alien, yet somehow familiar. They could not quite place how.

"Commander," Grail reported, "uplink is active and copying data to the Mohiam."

"Fantastic." Thorne redirected her attention back to Hu, "Now, Hu, if you would be so kind, we would greatly appreciate it if you could help us with getting into the Mammoth in the dock. It's the only one we haven't been able to access."

"Why would I do that for you?"

"Consider this: We have already assumed control of the base below. There are two-hundred-fifty souls down there looking for guidance. We also have encountered another one like yourself, except in a stasis of their own in armor just like yours. We would love it if we don't have to kill one another and instead can cooperate to bring about actual peace in the Inner Sphere. We really don't want to wage war, not on an interstellar scale. We've done that multiple times in other universes. It's not a good time. We just want a place to call home, and that means establishing a peace that the Inner Sphere can actually abide by, especially with what's coming in a little over two decades."

"What is coming, Commander?"

"If we're right, then the Clans are coming."

"Who are the Clans?" Hu was properly confused now.

"The descendants of Operation Exodus, Lieutenant. You didn't think they would sit idle for a few centuries, did you? They're coming back, and with a vengeance. If an era of peace is to come, then we need every available ally we can get."

Hu pondered Thorne's words. They were incredibly doubtful of the veracity of her claims.

"You don't believe me. I understand, but I just may be able to convince you." She handed them a tablet, "Here. This has the relevant information, a good bit of history, and some… speculation of future events. Our being here has irrevocably changed the probability of those future events occurring as written, but this is the best we have."

Hu began to read the tablet as they left the room and walked the halls. The more they read, the more they realized the gravity of the situation. The treachery of ComStar, the endless warfare of the preceding centuries. The theories on the future were wild, but not at all undeniable. They really began to mull over the intentions of the ISA.

Could all of this be true?

Bridge, ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

Dry Dock Orbit

Buchholz was restless. The reinforcements he had requested were still a little less than two weeks out, and he knew that he did not have the capacity to get all the cryogenically frozen people out with just his ship and his transports. Well, he did, but that meant leaving behind the transports and at least a month of travel round trip. It was not an ideal scenario.

There were other options. If they could convince those they had already encountered that they were not the bad guys, perhaps they would be willing to help them. Maybe they would even become members of the ISA, actually believing in their cause. It was a long shot, but certainly a sight better than sitting around doing nothing.

"Comms, hail Song." He ordered. Silently the comms officer brought up Commander Song.

"Yes, Command?" Song asked.

"Commander, have you determined who was in command of that base?"

"Yes, sir. The person in charge was actually the man who was running about when we first landed. Base servers peg him as Colonel Jason Carter, SLDF CO of Base Columbus. We haven't thawed out anyone else, but the records state the frozen folks are a mix of SLDF and civvies from the Terran Hegemony."

"Have you brought the good Colonel around to our side?"

"Not yet, sir, but with the intel we've given him he seems to be coming around a bit."

"Good. If he asks for a few folks to be thawed out, oblige him. I want us to be as gracious as possible."

"Roger that. Also, if we could get down some mini-fabs that would be fantastic. The one on the transport is a little lacking if we're gonna feed near three-hundred-fifty people."

"Not a problem, Song. Send the transport up and we'll have some ready for you."

"Thank you, sir. Anything else?"

"Not at the moment, Commander. Keep me appraised."

"Roger. Song out." Her image disappeared.

They were getting somewhere. Little by little they would convince these people and perhaps they would be ready for the coming storm.

Columbus Base

Jason Carter was content. For the first time in a year, he was legitimately content. He had been the first to awaken on the base and had set about keeping the base maintained and as secure as he could. He had a responsibility to the people still in stasis, and he took it very seriously. He kept the fusion generator humming along, he kept the atmospheric systems in good shape, but he did all this at the expense of his own wellbeing.

Despite the somewhat rude first encounter, the people who apprehended him were quite cordial. They fed him much better food than what was left in the storage bins. Eating the same rations over and over got bland very quickly, and these ISA folks had some sort of device to fix up whatever food he wanted. Hell, some of these soldiers enjoyed cooking and just conjured up the individual ingredients. That was fascinating to him. Just having folks about to converse with was probably the best part of this experience. Human interaction was something he was desperate for during his year of isolation and having that thrust back into his life was exactly what he needed.

His company for today was the leader of the soldiers that had come down two days ago, a Lieutenant Commander Ji-Eun Song. She had forgone the mask that obscured her face when they met and sat across from him. He had just finished his meal of a hearty spiced chicken breast, rice, and a salad. It felt like these ISA folks were spoiling him, but he was informed that this was standard issue aboard their vessels. That was more than a bit of a shock. Not even during the height of the Star League did exploration teams have access to real food.

"How are you feeling today, Colonel?" Song asked the base commander.

"Much better, thank you." Carter still had some trouble speaking, but the medical help from these people had helped his disused vocal cords.

"I'm sure real food is a welcome relief."

"You have no idea, Commander." He patted his belly.

"Now, we've encountered someone up top. Armored individual, has stealth armor, identified themselves as Lieutenant Zhi Hu."

"Ah, Hu is one of our operatives. I thought they were dead."

"Quite the opposite, Colonel. They are quite alive." Song leaned back and thought a moment, "Have you read any of the material we've given you?"

"Yes. It's… well, it's a little outlandish if I'm honest." Carter shrugged.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. The thing is, all of that information we have up to this point has lined up. While some things from this point forward will be different, we think they are a damn good jumping off point."

"So, what is the plan for this base?" Carter asked.

"That is up to the Supreme Bashar, but it looks like we're going to reactivate it. To have a drydock up and running would be invaluable, and I'm sure you all would be thrilled to get back to work."

"As captives?"

"Gods no. I don't know the specifics, but you can be assured you will be gainfully employed and not under the sway of any successor states."

"I'll have to discuss this with Hu." Carter warned.

"That's not a problem. After business is wrapped up on the drydock, I'm sure a meeting can be arranged."

Carter nodded. Full and knowing that some comrades lived on the drydock, things were looking up

Columbus Drydock

16 October 3021/861 AS

The forces in the drydock decided to take their time in approaching the Mammoth's docking berth. When they had attempted to breech the digital security on the locking mechanism it had proven to be more difficult than anticipated. While their computers were advanced, it felt like something was anticipating their maneuvers. Every decryption method they attempted was rebuffed. When they tried a physical attack, they tripped something and one of the tech experts ended up incapacitated. Nothing fatal, but it knocked them out.

Lieutenant Commander Thorne hoped that bringing Lieutenant Hu to the entrance would help, but she also wanted to ensure that Hu read over the intelligence brief that she handed them. Hu's tone shifted from one of hostility to a sort of tepid acceptance. The facts presented to them were hard to ignore, and they had decided to assist them in accessing the DropShip.

Hu and Song approached the Mammoth's docking berth. Hu walked up to the door and placed their hand on the console and whispered a command.

"Ark Identification: Hu-Alpha-Six-Whiskey-Zero."

With an understood command, the door opened. Hu motioned for Thorne and the others to stay back. Hu entered the docking collar and began communicating to the computer system with their comms.

"Ai, are you there?" Hu called to the computer.

"Lieutenant Zhi Hu, welcome back to the Ark." The computer responded in the voice of its creator.

"Ai, listen. I have some people here with me, and I ask that you allow them passage."

"Are these the same people who attempted to access me earlier?" the Ark Interface asked.

"Yes, Ai. I do not know their full intentions, but they seem like good people."

"They are not Terran Hegemony or Star League. Who are they?"

"They have said they are patrons of Earth."

"Interesting choice of words."

"Indeed."

"How will they respond to an artificial intelligence?"

"I do not know, but from what I can tell they have encountered many things that the universe can throw at them. I do not think that fact will throw them off."

"I shall introduce myself, then. Can you bring their commanding officer here?" the Ark Interface asked.

"Of course, Ai." Hu motioned to Thorne to have her join them.

Thorne walked cautiously towards them, their rifle at the ready. Hu tapped the side of their helmet, indicating opening a channel to the ship. When they sent the frequency, she understood and shifted her comms.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Ashley Thorne of the Independent Systems Alliance." She stated over the channel.

"That is a name I do not recognize." The Ark Interface responded.

"May I ask who I am speaking to?" Thorne asked.

"I am the Ark Interface, or Ai for short."

"Oh." Thorne realized exactly what she had talked to, "An artificial intelligence."

"Correct."

"I was not aware that the Star League had developed fully aware AI."

"I am the first, Commander. Hu, if you would be so kind as to escort Commander Thorne to the Bridge. Thorne, you may bring a small escort if you like."

Thorne called for Grail, Blake, and her XO Lieutenant Rolan Petrov. The three silently followed her and Hu further into the DropShip.

The five reached the bridge through the obvious path the AI laid for them. Doors and shafts irrelevant to reaching the bridge were sealed off. When the five reached the bridge, they were greeted by an interesting sight. Sitting in the command chair was a feminine humanoid construct, turned to face them. Thorne raised an eyebrow.

"Ai, I presume?" she asked.

"This is my humanoid interface, yes." Ai responded. Her voice was very human, but it was still disconcerting to see it come from something at the edge of the uncanny valley.

"Commander, Ai is the custodian of this DropShip." Hu informed her.

"Well, I haven't seen a fully sentient AI before." Thorne stated, "I assume you brought us here to discuss something."

"That is correct." Ai responded, "I wish to ascertain your intentions here. You are the commanding officer of this unit. I hope to learn that from you."

"Well, to be honest I have a superior officer. Do you want to kick this discussion upstairs?" Thorne asked.

"I have no objections."

"Alright. Let me patch him through the ship's comms so we can all witness this." Thorne said with a smile as she motioned for Grail to establish a link with the Mohiam.

Bridge, ISV Gaius Helen Mohiam

"Sir," the comms officer called, "incoming transmission from the Mammoth-class DropShip."

"What?" Buchholz asked, "Who the hell is hailing us?"

"Comms signature says Commander Thorne." Comms responded.

"Oookay, put it through."

A faint green hologram of a humanoid robot greeted Buchholz, "Strange. I cannot detect your ship. Fascinating."

Buchholz looked at the hologram in confusion, "I'm sorry, you are?"

"Just a moment. My image is embarrassingly low resolution." With little delay, the fuzzy green hologram sharpened fully colored, revealing the finer details of the humanoid robot addressing him.

"I'll repeat myself: Who exactly are you?" Buchholz pressed the image.

"I am the Ark Interface, the entity that commands this vessel and represents the Star League. Ai for short."

"This is quite new." Buchholz admitted, "The Star League developed fully sentient AI. Ah."

"Your subordinate had the same reaction. Who are you, ship commander?"

"Fleet Captain Kilgore Buchholz, Independent Systems Alliance."

"There is that name again. What is the 'Independent Systems Alliance,' Captain?" Ai asked.

"That is the name of our nation."

"You do not strike me as Belters or a random Periphery nation. You hold power and discipline beyond that of the Successor States. The fact that I cannot detect your vessel with sensors is evidence enough that you have large-scale stealth technology that the Star League has not achieved."

"You're not wrong. In many technological respects we have surpassed the Star League, but we have the same spirit and goal in mind."

"What would that be?"

"Peace and prosperity for humanity. Unfortunately, to achieve and maintain that peace one must be ready for war."

"That is something the Star League knew quite well, Captain. How do you intend to bring that about?"

"That is a question far above my pay grade but rest assured that we have the means to achieve that goal."

"Threats, Captain?" The robot cocked a nonexistent eyebrow.

"No. Facts."

The Interface studied his face, "That is grim confidence, Captain. Perhaps your people are worthy successors."

"Meaning?"

"I wish to cooperate with you, Captain."

First Combined Army Headquarters

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

20 October 2006/3021/861 AS

General Davis sat at his new desk, pouring over paperwork and orders. The Engineer Corps had completed the Headquarters building a week ago. The hard data line provided him with a secure uplink from the Administration Building to HQ. With current information and instantaneous communication, civilian and military efforts were coordinated with ease. Despite the increase in overall efficiency and the cessation of major combat action, it was still a busy time at headquarters.

The DropShips had been sent off with one of the Planetary Carriers to establish a solid logistics line with Earth. The civilian government was still in the transitionary phase, so they relied heavily on him to make executive decisions. Placement of new industrial facilities, requests for commercial licenses, meetings with local representatives for the larger salvage contracts, his attention was divided in numerous directions with no indication of anything slowing down. Those he could reliably delegate to were stretched thin themselves, and it was another couple weeks until the civilian government could take on more responsibility.

The civilian government had been busy, despite their shortcomings. The past five days had seen the coming of the numerous specialists to fill the vacant spots of the old Port Kirin government. ISA civilians were beginning to implement the first steps in revitalizing Port Kirin. Zoning priorities were hammered out in the first few days, and industrial concerns from Earth and Cradle were determined to create new opportunities in Port Kirin. All these things still needed the intervention of a chief executive, and General Davis was the closest one to be considered as such.

He sighed and rubbed his temples. Civilian administration was not what he was trained in, and the stress of being both the head of ground forces and chief administrator was taking its toll. He closed his eyes a moment and rest his racing mind. The pressures of combat and leading in battle he was accustomed to. Dealing with the ins and outs of daily civilian administration, he was not. There was only so much bandwidth any one man had, and he was dangerously close to his limit.

There was a knock at his door. He opened his eyes and looked up.

"Enter."

In came Colonel Kurita with a crisp salute.

"At ease, Colonel." Davis motioned to the chair in front of him, "What do you have for me?" he asked.

"Sir," Kurita sat across from Davis and passed him a tablet, "the latest from Intel."

Davis took the tablet and read it over, his eyes scanned for relevant information, "Well this is news. I didn't think that the Lyran Commonwealth had any real presence here."

"If you can call a solitary agent 'real presence,' sir."

"A single agent that we know of. Keep a close eye on them, same as ROM, MIIO, and ISF. If LOKI wants to play hardball, we need to know when and how." Davis, scrolled down, "Ah, I see that Scarman thinks the same."

"Yes, sir. The Triple-S is handling intelligence duty now."

"Jesus, we're dealing with a veritable alphabet soup, eh Colonel?"

"Yes, sir. Also, the Combine and the Federated Suns are sending ambassadors to Port Kirin. They will want their own embassies."

"Not a problem. We build 'em, let the Intel boys wire 'em up. If they insist on building their own, that's fine. I'm sure we can still find ways to wire 'em up."

"Last bit of news, sir: The military fort in the heart of Port Kirin is nearing completion."

Davis looked up from the tablet, "I guess that means we're moving again?"

"Not exactly, sir. We will still command from here, but for state visits and such we will need to be there."

"Got it. Anything else?" Davis asked.

"No, sir."

ComStar Central Headquarters

Hilton Head Complex, Terra

Sol System, ComStar Space

23 October 3021

Precentor Atreus Demona Aziz looked across her desk at the Adept opposite her. In front of her lay an intelligence folder that the young Adept had collected over the preceding months. This man had been railing at his superiors that there was something more to the newest power to assert itself in the Periphery, this "Independent Systems Alliance," but no one would give him the time of day save his immediate superior. Aziz was lucky. She managed to find a shred of the intelligence gathered by this young adept and called for him immediately.

Precentor Aziz picked up the intelligence file and looked it over in front of Adept Fox. He knew he had something, but he never expected to present his evidence to a member of ComStar's governing body. A member of the First Circuit would never associate themselves to a pariah of ROM. Yet here he was, and he was not going to let this opportunity go to waste.

"Adept Fox," Aziz began, "this evidence you have gathered paints an interesting picture about our newest power in the Inner Sphere."

"That is correct," Fox replied, "to be frank, Precentor, it does not bode well."

"In your own words, Adept." Aziz waved for Fox to begin and leaned back in her chair.

"In short, Precentor, I believe that the technological ability of this ISA exceeds anything we have ever seen in the Inner Sphere. All of the evidence points to them either being a lost Star League colony recently reinvigorated onto the galactic stage or… something even more fantastic."

"I have heard the more fantastic theory from Precentor Stoker. What was it he said, a 'time displacement effect?'"

"Forgive that earlier analysis, Precentor. I did not have all the information I do now."

"Explain."

"First, there is the matter of communication. Ever since they established themselves on Antallos, they have not once used our local HPG office to send a message back to 'Motherlode.' Now, maybe they are busy but how could they possibly coordinate the ensuing JumpShip traffic into the system without communicating home at least once? No one else in the Inner Sphere has access to faster-than-light communication other than us, and yet these people can coordinate perfectly in silence? That cannot be possible. Second, how they arrived at Antallos. Their DropShips were recorded arriving in system so much closer than a standard jump point to the planet and with no JumpShips. No current Inner Sphere DropShip is capable of FTL travel without a JumpShip. All efforts to install a jump drive in any existing DropShip designs have ended in either failure or outright catastrophe and yet here these ships arrived with not a single JumpShip to speak of."

"I was not informed of any of this." Aziz stated with a hint of worry.

"That's not all, Precentor. They somehow deployed orbital defense platforms that we cannot detect during the ensuing battle. They had no DropShips in orbit, and yet they were able to call down orbital strikes. How do they get up there? There are battlefield recordings that we were able to retrieve from a FedSun transmission to New Avalon that had footage of a weapon exploding on some sort of barrier in front of a BattleMech whose design origins we do not know, nor can we detect reliably with our existing sensors. Their coordination is something that no Periphery power has ever managed to field. Their level of precision is near prescience. It is clear they have a large aerospace wing that is seemingly invisible, they have DropShips of unknown design, and if I'm right they have WarShips."

"Adept, this all seems a little farfetched."

"Precentor, I am simply working with the information that we have. Others in ROM have dismissed my claims, but I'm sure I'm right on this." Fox said with confidence.

Aziz looked over the intel file again, pouring over the transcripts and pictures. She had a couple of the aforementioned battlefield recordings that she was determined to look over. The most disturbing revelation was Fox's first: If ComStar no longer held a monopoly on FTL communication through their HPG network, their power and credibility could collapse. By Blake, she would not let that happen.

"Adept, congratulations." She extended her hand.

Fox stared at it in confusion, "Precentor?" he said tentatively as he grasped her hand.

"Effective immediately you are promoted to Precentor I. You will be assigned to investigate this ISA further with a small team of ROM agents. We will continue to collect what we can from Antallos and send it straight to your new office here at Hilton Head. You will report directly to me, understood?"

"O-of course, Precentor." Fox replied, wide-eyed.

"I will also expect a plan to capture some of this technology and perhaps hinder this ISA. We cannot allow our monopoly on technology go contested."

"Understood, Precentor. Thank you."

"You are dismissed, Precentor Fox."

The newly minted Precentor left Aziz's office with a wide smile. She remained, frowning.

By the word of Blake, this cannot stand.

War Room, Royal Palace

Avalon City, New Avalon

New Avalon System, Federated Suns Space

25 October 3021

In the center of the table, a group of 'mechs and vehicles surrounded another and took them without incident. With that, Field Marshal Yvonne Davion killed the holo-display.

"Marshal Rittenberg managed to get a Boomerang to observe the last combat action of the battle," the Field Marshal stated, "but it was not able to capture what happened afterwards. This briefing has been compiled from what footage we have been able to capture of the battle and what is in the public domain. Major Davion obliquely hinted that the ISA is giving the impression of compromised communications security between Antallos and New Avalon, hence the delay in getting all of this footage."

Director of the Ministry of Information, Intelligence, and Operations Quintus Allard leaned forward, "Thanks to the chaotic situation on the ground, our agents on station were forced to utilize couriers to submit their reports rather than relying on ComStar's local HPG station. This was the primary reason for the delay of information. Their reports have little to add to Marshal Rittenberg or Major Davion's observations, thanks to their limited view of the battlefield."

"Has this information been passed along to the Lyran Commonwealth?" First Prince Hanse Davion asked.

"As per your order, First Prince." Allard replied, "Much of the information provided is unbelievable to say the least, so corroboration will be required before we can recommend any actionable responses. One item of great import is Rittenberg's distrust of ComStar's neutrality and the need for secure communication. On the subject of the Pirates, Redjack Ryan would not have been able to know about the existence of Motherlode unless he was able to somehow intercept a transmission from across the Sphere or he was given the information by a third party. We believe that ComStar may have had a hand in such an endeavor. It would line up with other seemingly random attacks against perceived bastions or potential sources of advanced technology."

Hanse Davion leaned back, "Quintus, make all efforts to decouple MIIO operations from ComStar dependence and increase your coverage of NAIS as much as you deem practical." He shifted attention to his Field Marshal, "Yvonne, what threat does this ISA pose? What would it take to eliminate them if they turned against us?"

Field Marshal Davion shook her head, "In all honesty, I do not know. They were able to strike quickly, decisively, and constantly throughout the battle on Antallos with no signs of slowing down. They had access to orbital platforms, which we couldn't detect but we clearly saw the effects of. On the ground, they could easily outmatch any force we have close to the Periphery. In terms of space resources, that is also unknown. Their DropShips, what we've seen, are extremely impressive. They brought down aerospace coverage the likes we have never seen. They have also managed to capture the entirety of Redjack Ryan's DropShips. That bolsters their military force significantly, and given their aerospace coverage, I personally wouldn't want to fight against their entrenched force there. If we were to dedicate a force to dislodge them, it could critically weaken other fronts against the Combine and the Confederation.

"Explain."

"Conventional military wisdom has it that a three-to-one numerical advantage is enough to defeat a defending force without the attackers incurring significant losses. We saw in the first battle that this ISA was able to eliminate nearly three times their 'mech forces in an exceptionally short amount of time, and nearly that same number over the next two days. Both times, they managed to fight without incurring any significant losses. Over the next few months, barring miracles or acts of God, they will have reinforced with at least half of their current standing military putting them at least at Corps strength. Given it has been almost a couple months, I wouldn't be surprised if they are already at that point. If we were to order an attack today, we would very easily be dedicating at least one-hundred-fifty aerospace fighters, six-hundred BattleMechs, with infantry and armor to match."

"However," interjected Ardan Sortek, Prince's Champion, "doing so would drive them straight into the arms of the Combine. Even if Takashi takes no official action, one of his dogs will be sure to slip the leash and make their own attempt at our territory. Duke Hasek-Davion would use this action in the far reaches of the Periphery as leverage to act against you, claiming you don't care about your people who are on the borders of 'real threats.' Duke Sandoval would side with him, increasing domestic pressure on you. If how they fought on Antallos is any indication, even if we did find their home world the destruction wrought in such an endeavor would annihilate anything worth gaining. If Quintus is right about ComStar, you'd be doing their work for them."

The First Prince allowed himself a small smile, "Don't worry, old friend. I agree with you. If we start randomly attacking neutral parties, we aren't any better than Liao or Kurita. Yvonne, keep a deep deployment plan in your back pocket. We may need it one of these days." He shifted his attention back to Allard, "What of the ISA are you willing to share with little corroboration?"

"Well, First Prince, it seems that the ISA doesn't hesitate to enlist mercenaries that have been hired to oppose them. Among them we have confirmation of multiple mercenary forces hired by Vorax for the Motherlode expedition. Aladdin al-Azim, an Azami expatriate and rebel from the Combine is now a commanding officer among their 'mech forces. Notable freelancer Natalie Rosswood and her company were seen among the MechWarriors of the ISA, including her lostech Battlemaster. It seems to have gotten even more resilient since we've seen it last. Most interestingly, they have hired the Buron Cavalry. All information points to Vorax entrapping them, forcing their participation. Major Staedele seems to be in good standing, as he is commanding one of the companies in their force."

Hanse Davion stroked his chin, "The Buron Cavalry… They're the reason that the Twenty-First Galedon Regulars of the Combine are still rebuilding, correct? Why did we not retain them?"

Allard quietly shifted in his seat, "The official responsible for handling them seems to have made a bungled effort to pressure them into staying on poor terms."

Hanse pulled up the Cav's file on the holo-imager, "They accomplished all of their objectives, shattered a battalion of Kuritan regulars at a grave cost to themselves, and this is how we repay them?" He massaged his temples, "Did this thundering imbecile not realize that a third of our 'mech forces are mercenaries? This kind of stupidity sets a terrible precedent!"

"Sire, I fear the next item isn't going to help matters in the slightest. A Captain Burgess Hale, formerly a member of the AFFS, has also been confirmed as a member of ISA's BattleMech forces. Looking into his file, it seems that his court-martial was more than slightly irregular, and his family perished under mysterious circumstances all at once. The official responsible for handling the Buron Cavalry was the same that also acquired Hale's assets aside from his family 'mech, which Hale managed to escape with."

"This official is a Davion, I'm guessing?" Allard nodded, "Investigate them. Nail them to the wall with anything you can make stick. I want such incompetence rightfully punished for driving away valuable people from our cause. Rescind any warrants and bounties on Hale and investigate reparations. I'll be damned if one my bastard cousins sullies the family name like this just for a damn land grab. I'll provide payment to the Buron Cavalry from my personal purse. Send word to them that they will be considered favorably if they seek a contract with the Federated Suns in the future. Unless there is anything else, I say we adjourn."

Allard leaned forward one last time, "Everyone, I hope I don't need to say this, but I will anyways: Nothing about out suspicions of ComStar leaves this room. Nothing."

Imperial Palace

Luthien

Luthien System, Draconis Combine Space

27 October 3021

Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita has been called to an audience before Coordinator Takashi Kurita himself. It was an honor to end all honors. He knew that he was summoned to give his first-hand account of the Battle of Antallos, yet he was unsure of what was expected of him.

It had been easy enough to deal with the annoying 'advisor' in the aftermath. The buffoon Gonzo expressed to his superiors a concern about the lack of diplomatic skill shown in the aftermath. In response he sent his granddaughter to be the Combine's temporary attaché to the ISA. Someone whom he could trust to keep an eye on the honorless Federated Suns in his absence.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. A worrying thought crossed his mind: He had heard of such audiences where the Honored Coordinator had, without looking at the supplicant, said "You have disappointed me. You may use the Garden." He examined the medals that adorned his uniform again. No, all his medals were in order and there was no error in his presentation. He would not embarrass the Dragon with his presence. Most importantly, he had done nothing wrong. If he had, he would not be before the Coordinator for his punishment, but a short-lived military tribunal. He truly had no idea what to expect.

The door opened, and Ulysses snapped to attention. The attendant noted him, and he was summoned to the waiting room beyond. He strode crisply across the threshold and saw many people of power arrayed around a table with a map. He recognized it as a section of the Combine near Antallos.

Ulysses' heart slowed as he gained a greater understanding of why he was here: It was not a punishment, but a briefing. He stood at perfect attention while waiting for his superiors to address him. It took only a moment before Kester Hsuin Chi, administrator of the Pesht District, acknowledged Ulysses.

"Ah, Tai-sa, welcome." Chi greeted, "Coordinator Kurita, this is the man whom we sent to Antallos."

Another man stood up, and turned to face him, and the first thing that went through Ulysses' mind was that he had been certain that Takashi Kurita was supposed to be taller. Instead he found himself in the awkward position of looking down at his Lord. He bowed, and offered the correct greetings as required of him. The Coordinator returned them and bid him rise.

Ulysses took the invitation and stepped up to the table. One of the things he saw right away was not the notations of military movements but that Antallos itself was no longer the white of an independent world. The single red-black world stood out against the sea of red Combine worlds, as well as the strip of Federated yellow and Outworlds grey.

"So much interest in such a small world. The last time something like this happened was the appearance of the Wolf's Dragoons twenty years ago", the Coordinator mused. "and you were there, Tai-sa. I would speak with you personally about what you saw there, and your impressions. I have read your reports, but they lacked the personal view I wish from you."

Ulysses nodded and gestured with a sweep of the hand at the color changed world, portent of change. "My Lord Coordinator, while I hold the utmost confidence in my reports as to the fact of the engagement, you are correct in knowing that there is more I can say about this new, albeit minor power. First, I must stress that for all their tactical power, they were tested against pirates and other undesirables. Their opponents came at them piecemeal, with little sense of tactics beyond massed charges. They were an embarrassment to the name MechWarrior, and their demise is no loss. Against the proper military might of the Combine, they would fall, despite their lostech."

"Ah, yes." Chi agreed as he too studied the map. "That much we all agree upon. But rather, it is their people we wish to know more of."

Chastised, the Tai-sa switched mental tracks. "My Lords, the leader of the ISA on this world is a man by the name of Bashar Thomas Serov. Many of our conversations took place in English, but he was well-versed in the civilized greetings of our native tongue. We first met in person when I requested that I identify the body of the pirate, Redjack Ryan, and he made the arrangements. He strikes me deeply as a man of honor. His forces share the same professionalism and honor in their duties, despite a few errant comments. Apparently I resemble a holo-vid actor on Motherlode by the name of Toshirô Mifune, if a bit aged, and the rank and file soldiers of the ISA gave me honor above my station for it."

"Interesting." Coordinator Kurita noted, "Please continue."

"My Lord, I must admit that the majority of my interaction with the Independent Systems Alliance were with members of their military in such matters and that has limited my ability to understand their culture as a whole. I sent one of my officers to act as interim ambassador until such time as you deigned to recall her or replace her with a more suitable representative. She too noted in her reports that she saw the same contrast of professionalism in their duties as well as the laxness and casual revelry in their off-duty hours. It is implied that the ISA is composed of citizen-soldiers lead by career officers. As for the political power behind the ISA, that is currently a bit of a mystery. They speak of a 'civilian council,' but that I all I know."

"What of this Dansel they call a hero?" the Coordinator asked.

"Coordinator, I was, along with a representative of the Federated Suns, present at an awards ceremony the recognized actions above and beyond the call of duty during the battle. His entire Lance was recognized, and from the actions I saw, if a member of the DCMS performed the same, I would be honored to award those medals myself."

The table quietly murmured amongst themselves.

"I must note that they do not place their awards in a spectacular fashion. They are simple medals and ribbons. Of note, their campaign ribbons are simple rectangles with various colored bands denoting the specific actions. Dansel bore three, one I was told, was for the repulsion of the initial pirate attack, the 'New Zealand Defense.' Another was the 'Earth Defense' campaign, for the defeat of the attack from Port Kirin. The one he was awarded in my presence was the defense of Antallos from Redjack Ryan and the subsequent attacks from the City-States. He also had awards for his military service and training before joining the ISA. Of note, he is apparently a double ace, twice over. Ten confirmed 'mech kills during the second campaign, and more than that during Antallos."

That caused a stir among the MechWarriors present. Making five confirmed kills was an accomplishment, but over twenty in two conflicts? It seemed almost unbelievable, but they did not doubt it given the sights of the battle. Privately, many of them wanted to test this Dansel against their best in order to see their victory and assuage their egos.

"After the ceremony, I talked to him personally. He seemed to be quite intelligent, though like a commoner who is suddenly thrust into the presence of nobility. He has the air about him of a good man, and very trustworthy."

There were more murmurs from the others arrayed about the table.

"Another question then, Tai-sa." The Coordinator continued, "Your reports mention a Kurita in the hierarchy of the ISA."

"Yes, my Lord. He holds the rank of Colonel in the ISA and is second in command to General Don Davis, leader of their ground forces. He has expressed that his family and yours have not been related since before the fall of the Star League. That statement, if true, would help support the theory that Motherlode is a Deep Periphery Star League colony."

"He was present for the battle?"

"Yes, my Lord." The Coordinator pondered this in silence for a few moments.

"What do we really know about this new power at our back door?" the question was asked by a woman whom Ulysses thought he recognized, but was not sure of, "We do not know how many worlds they hold, including their new conquest. For all we know, they have dozens of worlds in the Periphery that we have no report of."

"That is a worrisome thought, but we have no evidence of that yet." Stated Director of the Internal Security Force Subhash Indrahar, "Despite the name 'Independent Systems Alliance,' we do not have a firm number of systems under their control. The name implies multiple worlds, but until we have more intelligence, we cannot be sure. There is no indication that these people are related to the Minnesota Tribe that certain members of the media put forward. However, my operatives on station were told to assume nothing of their origins."

"So, where is this 'Motherlode,' the world they call Earth?" the Coordinator asked.

"My Lord, we do not know. Since the attempted invasion by the previous administrator of Port Kirin, they have been justifiably paranoid in protecting the location of their home. They tightly control all JumpShip traffic to and from this world. We could attempt a search of our own, but we do not have the first clue where to start nor do we have the JumpShips in the Pesht District to spare."

"This is most distressing." The Coordinator paused and gathered his thoughts, "So, we return to the same questions as before. What of the Federated Suns and the Outworlds Alliance? What interest do they have in Antallos and the ISA?"

Indrahar shook his head, "My Lord, the Outworlds Alliance is in a constant state of disarray. They have no interest in Antallos, nor is it possible that Motherlode is in that region of space. Concerning the honorless Suns, I have reports that they too are looking to gain favor with the ISA, for their friendship could represent a means to encircle the OWA as well as having a friendly port in our rear."

The Coordinator slammed his fist on the table, "That cannot be allowed!"

Tai-sa Ulysses was in a bind. It appeared he was not supposed to be here, but he had not been dismissed. The thought of bringing this lapse to the attention of his betters paralyzed him. He wasn't sure what to do, and he couldn't simply turn and leave. Such would be a grave dishonor.

"There is a large gamble we could attempt." Indrahar began, "On the world of Chirala, there is an annex to New Samarkand Metals. A 'mech factory specializing in parts for light 'mechs such as the Jenner. They would normally be shipped to the Luthien Armor Works for final assembly."

One of the others at the table lept to a conclusion, "You don't propose selling one of our active parts factories to a foreign power, do you?"

"No. I suggest an entire 'mech factory."

The table erupted in rounds of loud accusations of treason and calls for his removal. Even Ulysses felt a twist in his gut at the thought but kept his silence. He noted that both the Coordinator and Indrahar kept their peace in the storm of accusation and disapproval.

"SILENCE!" roared Takashi Kurita. The table hushed immediately, "Subhash, explain yourself or I will be forced to summon your replacement."

"My Lord Coordinator, the factory in question was shut down three years ago due to unacceptable corruption. New Samarkand Metals have been unable to gain the personnel to properly restart it. As it stands, the entire line is simply wasting space. We can offer the ISA this line as well as the possibility of future expansion into a full 'mech production line in the future to show our friendship and trust. They are likely to take this as analysis of the forces at Antallos shows that a majority of their 'mech force is salvaged. There were six 'mechs there whose designs we are unfamiliar with, but everything else was equipment sent during the raids on Motherlode. The offer to allow them to build their own parts and future 'mechs if under our auspices should prove to be a heavy incentive towards future trade and even an eventual offer to join the Draconis Combine."

The Coordinator slowly nodded.

"As for us: we gain an active parts factory; a source of income from leasing the factory; as well as a legitimate reason to have an active military presence on the world. We gain a supply node in the region and the capacity to launch a proper campaign should the need arise. It will also give us a constant view into their culture as well as possible access to their lostech if we go about it properly. I doubt the Federated Suns will have anything that can match that."

Chi stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I recall that scandal. They were building substandard parts and skimming profits for personal gain. I was at their executions." He paused, "It is a large gamble for certain, but I can support the attempt to understand and study the technology of the ISA. Reports from Antallos indicate that they are already conducting a massive project they are calling 'Urban Renewal' at Port Kirin."

"However," another interjected, "we must be absolutely certain that our interests are protected."

"I make that guarantee," Indrahar promised, "even if I have to monitor the situation on Antallos personally."

All eyes turned to the Coordinator, awaiting his response. He turned to Ulysses, "Tai-sa, it would appear that I must send you back to Antallos to represent our interests there. This is a heavy responsibility for you, but I have the utmost confidence in your ability to see it through. Please make the offer to the ISA as a token of our appreciation."

Ulysses bowed and made to leave the meeting for his new duties. When he reached the door, the voice of the Coordinator called out to him one last time.

"Oh, Tai-sa, please invite in my name this Colonel Kurita of the ISA to an audience with me. I am interested in this distant cousin of ours."

Port Kirin Interstellar Port

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

1 November 3021/2006

The Wolfnet Agent has never been to Port Kirin before. There had never been a real need. It was a backwater of the worst sort where criminals and pirate scum got together to trade. There had been little here to interest any of the Successor States and by extension Wolf's Dragoons.

Then news of what was then known as the Battle of Port Kirin had spread like wildfire across the Inner Sphere. An army equipped with lostech from some hitherto unknown Periphery nation had seized Port Kirin and then proceeded to demolish several regiments' worth of BattleMechs in a three-day running battle. Sure, the destroyed regiments were just pirate scum and bottom-of-the-barrel mercenary units, but even the Dragoons would have been hard pressed to match that kind of performance.

What had really piqued Wolfnet's interest was the Timber Wolf seen in one news clip. Close analysis had revealed that it wasn't really a Timber Wolf and given the kind of 'frankenmechs' that the Dragoons had seen running around the Inner Sphere it was inevitable that one resembling a Clan OmniMech would show up sooner or later. However, the combination of the 'Timber Wolf' and reports of advanced technology was irresistible. Had another one of the Clans sent their own reconnaissance mission?

So, the plan was for the Wolfnet Agent to slip in as an anonymous 'mech tech looking for work. Given the Dragoons were better than the average Spheroid merc, the Agent expected to attract attention soon enough. He didn't expect it to be right off the DropShip in Customs.

"Your name is Remus Lupin?" the ISA soldier, his nametag read Dickens, said is disbelief, "For real?"

"Yes. Is there a problem?" the Agent replied. Interally, he cursed himself for his arrogance in picking his alias. It wasn't one he used before, but he didn't expect some Periphery hick to know enough classical literature or Latin to make the connection to wolves. He had barely started his assignment and he may have already blown his cover.

"No, no problem." Dickens said jovially, "So, I guess I better inspect your wand."

"My what?" the Agent replied, nonplussed.

"Your wand!" Dickens barely restrained his laughter, "Every wizard has a wand, right?"

"You think I'm a wizard…?" the Agent asked slowly, "What makes you think that?"

"Because 'Remus Lupin' is obviously a wizard's name! Tell me, do you know Harry Potter? Can you turn into a werewolf-"

"DICKENS!" another soldier roared from behind.

Dickens practically jumped from his seat to attention. The Agent was impressed with the speed of the response and the discipline and training that implied.

"Private Dickens," the other soldier growled, "kindly explain to me what the hell you think you're doing?"

"Processing new arrivals, Sergeant!" Dickens replied crisply.

"Which you will continue to do with professionalism and courtesy." The ISA Sergeant told him, "That includes NOT making fun of people because they have a familiar sounding name, or else I'll have you up on charges so fast your head'll spin. Are we clear, Private?"

"Clear, Sergeant!"

"Good. Now get back to work." The Sergeant ordered. He turned and nodded to the Agent, "Sorry for the delay, sir."

After that, the interview went much more smoothly. It was a basic "Why are you here?" and "Do you have anything to declare?" question and answer session that went quickly. Interestingly, Dickens appeared to enter the data into a computer terminal that seemed a bit sophisticated for a lowly Periphery backwater Private to be operating. Even more interesting, the Sergeant remained hovering in the background to make sure that Dickens stayed polite. These people valued not offending nobodies like what the Agent was posing as; he wasn't certain what that signified, but he filed it away in his mental notebook.

As the Agent walked away after the interview, the next passenger off the Dropship he had arrived in took his place. The kid was so fresh off the farm that he practically still had hayseed in his hair.

"I'm Guybrush Threepwood," the kid declared, "Mighty Pirate!"

Port Kirin Administration Building

"Ambassador, welcome to Port Kirin." Bashar Serov greeted the ISA's ambassador assigned to Antallos.

"Thank you, Bashar." Ambassador Charles Smith replied.

"How was your trip?"

"Quick and comfortable. You ISA chaps have lavish vessels for WarShips."

"We do what we can with what we've got, Ambassador. For priority traffic, we assign one of our own naval vessels to ensure security and speed. Lower priority goes to the captured JumpShips and DropShips. If we need to, the entirety of our Planetary Carrier capacity can be assigned to ferry materials and supplies between Cradle, Earth, and Antallos."

"Impressive, Bashar. Can we hold this position?" Smith asked.

"Charles, if any of these bastards wants to take us, we can burn them out of the sky if need be. Preferably, we let them land so we can salvage their equipment, but if things are too hairy…"

"I get the idea. The reports we received on Earth indicate a complete and total victory with minimal losses."

"All true. I don't like fighting fair, Charles."

"Quite right. Where is my office, Bashar?"

Bob's Used 'Mechs and Salvage Yard

The mech standing in Bob's Used Mechs and Salvage Yard was not a design that the Agent had ever seen before. It vaguely resembled a Warhammer, but there were enough differences to make it a completely different design. It was old, battered, shot up and had big gaping hole where the Agent estimated the head ought to be.

"Pretty, ain't she? Pity she's not for sale," a man asked as he walked up. At the Agent's inquisitive look, the man introduced himself. "I'm Bob, proprietor of this fine establishment."

"Remus Lupin," the Agent replied. "I'm not here to buy, though. I was told that this is where I could get some work. I'm a tech."

"Lupin, Lupin…" Bob repeated to himself. "Oh, right, they told me you might be coming. Yeah, I could use a few genuine techs, show these ex-slaves how to properly salvage mech parts." He gestured at a group of workers in the distance working on some wrecks. "If I have to pay them wages, I'd at least like them to do a good job," he added in disgust.

"I'm sure I can show them a few things," the Agent said, not letting any of his real feelings show. "What do you mean 'ex-slaves'?"

"It's these new guys in charge," Bob answered. "They're real uptight and high and mighty, you know. They've banned slavery and now we have to pay workers a decent wage to live on if you can believe it. If it weren't for all the salvage business they were throwing my way, I might have objected."

"Salvage business?" the Agent asked. "It's been more than four months since the Battle of Port Krin. Are they still salvaging mechs from that?"

"Not 'they'. WE are doing the salvaging," Bob corrected. "Four months ago, I barely made ends trading in gear and salvage. Then these ISA or whatever they're calling themselves come along and hire – draft was more like it - just about everyone with technical know-how to clean up the mess they made."

"And you're still cleaning up the battlefield?"

"Nah, we got that done in the first month," Bob told him. "These days, ISA hands me a map, tells us to 'Dig Here', and then assigns a mech lance or two to make sure we're uninterrupted. And almost every damn time, there's something to be found. I dunno how they do it."

"Maybe they have an old map of cache sites?" the Agent suggested.

"You'd think so, but most of what we dig up were obvious battle losses," Bob said. "They died where we found them and ain't no one made any maps of that. This baby" he waved at the unidentified mech that the Agent had been studying "was buried under five meters of sand."

"Er, what is it, anyway?" the Agent asked, as he began wondering how good GDI scanners were. They couldn't possibly see through solid rock, right? "I thought I knew every mech used in the Inner Sphere, but I don't recognize this one."

"That, Remus, is a genuine Hammerhands," Bob said in disgust. "It's an antique dating from the Age of War. God knows what it's doing on Antallos, and I could have made a mint off selling it to some rich collector in the Inner Sphere, but the ISA gets first dibs on anything we find, and they're only really interested in lostech or just anything 'interesting' like a rare Hammerhands. And they're only paying retail, the cheapskates!"

First Combined Army Headquarters

Dansel wondered if there was some universal law that required uniforms to be uncomfortable. His new command as head of the Foreign Legion saw himself quickly overwhelmed. Only the excellent efforts of Hale and Simeonov kept him from filing for a transfer back to Earth. Dealing with Sally Ryan would be a cakewalk compared to this.

Dansel knocked on the door. "It's open!" He entered the small sparse office. Inside, Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda of the Systems Security Service saw him and bade him to take a seat. Her job was almost as unenviable as his own.

Dansel closed the door behind him, then took the seat, shifting uncomfortably. "Captain."

"Captain. Or is it Major?" Maeda smiled, and ran her eyes up and down the man, noting that he tried very hard to not seem like he was a very important person.

"Not sure yet. I've heard both. Apparently, a Lieutenant can't oversee a brigade of irregulars, and people are afraid to give me actual power." Dansel relaxed a bit.

"Ah, I can see that. Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

"How long have you guys known Brox is a Clanner?"

Fleet Captain Maeda lost all pretense of humor. With a nonverbal command, the door to her office shut and locked. She pressed a button on her computer, filling the room with a low white noise. With a deadly purpose, she leaned forward and motioned to the seat before Dansel. He sat down nervously, wondering just how big a hornet's nest he had kicked with that question.

"Dansel, I will say this once and only once: What we are about to discuss here cannot leave this room, understood? Doing so will result in but will not be limited to stripping your rank, a court martial, dishonorable discharge from the Independent Systems Alliance, and if deemed necessary ejection out an airlock in the vacuum of space."

Dansel nodded, "Must be a Tuesday, then. On Wednesdays they threaten me with being locked in a room with Sally Ryan."

Maeda glared, piercing into his very soul.

"Understood!" Dansel threw his hands up in surrender.

Maeda folded her hands together, "Sergeant Brox was identified as a Clansman back on Earth. When confronted, he identified himself as a dispossessed MechWarrior who received his wounds during a Trial of Position. He since fled to the Inner Sphere through means he has not revealed for fear of leading us back to the Pentagon Worlds and the rest of Clan Space."

Dansel nodded.

"Since then, we have been keeping a close eye on him and his loyalties. We are prepared to act on any new information that may arise. This cannot be compromised, understood?"

He nodded again. Sally Ryan was looking more and more like the safe option these days.

Port Kirin Administration Building

5 November 861 AS/2006

Assistant Commissioner Katie Garland read up on the latest from Earth. The Constabulary Commission, the civilian law enforcement arm of the Independent Systems Alliance, had implemented the first sweeping changes to Earth's law enforcement procedures and policies. How these affected the nations of Earth was far ranging. In some nations, namely leading European countries, the tweaks to law enforcement were minimal. There were simply staffing and personnel adjustments with little additional training needed to bring them up to ISA standard. Other nations, namely China and the United States, needed significant overhauls to training, personnel, and policy to meet the ISA's exacting regulations. Major police departments needed to be completely dismantled and rebuilt from the ground up after careful observation of their procedures and resource allocation. This caused an uproar in many nations and provinces, with police unions and local governments in multiple countries having filed lawsuits against the ISA for overreaching their power. The highly militarized society of the ISA had hit its first real nerve on Earth, and tensions here reflected the stark contrast between Earth and Cradle. The military brass wanted a quick resolution to the problem, but the increasingly active civilian governance portion of the ISA knew this would be a long, drawn-out battle in courtrooms all over Earth.

Commissioner Garland was glad she didn't have to worry about such matters. She simply had to construct a functional civilian police service. Within her first few days she established the standard departments of the law enforcement civil services branch as a large majority of cases required those specialists and their ability to negotiate civil disputes. The armed response units she kept tasked to the Military Police until Antallos could establish its own independent branch. The work was involved, she was a bit short staffed, but her efforts already showed some fruit. The general populace was much more used to calling upon them for help, from general disputes to more serious matters.

Her work had just begun, and what little time she had spent on station was bearing fruit. The domestic affairs department was bearing the brunt of the workload as a highly-strung society ruled by violence was being recalibrated by the ISA as quickly as they could manage. The paperwork on her desk ranged from the currently overstretched medical division (many of the civilian populace still had a penchant for resolving issues by gun and blade) and the still often called military police (they still had to handle military checkpoints and guard important facilities in Port Kirin). She understood that her work would not be complete in less than a week, but it was taxing nonetheless. She cracked her neck, rolled her shoulders, and dove right back into her duty. Port Kirin wouldn't change quickly, she knew that, but it would change. Garland would see to it.

Stealth Cruiser ISV Lady Jessica

Nonstandard Jump Point

New Dallas System, Former Free Worlds League Space

10 November 861 AS/2006

The system lay quiet and anonymous. No DropShips plied its space. No JumpShips waited to carry the nonexistent DropShips to locales up to thirty lightyears distant. There weren't even human voices carried by electromagnetic waves but for the inaudible transmissions sent from nearby inhabited systems. This star system was silent, alone, and forgotten by the rest of star faring humanity.

Until now.

A globe of twisted space appeared just a few million kilometers from the star, announcing its presence to anyone who might be looking with a blast of heat and radio noise. All things considered, it was not a large blast by the standards of such things, nor was the event in the traditional points above the poles, but on the system's plane. The Stealth Cruiser that materialized kept its stealth drive active, cloaking its presence to anyone who would be looking for a ship that emerged from the disturbance.

"We've arrived." Announced Lieutenant Simone Dupree, navigator of the ISV Lady Jessica. She was a veteran of the ISA's campaigns across the universes and took her job seriously. A jump like this one was old hat, but completely unorthodox by their current universe's standards.

"Very good, Helm." Replied Fleet Captain Marie Anahera, "Sensors, anything on the scope?"

"Negative, Captain," responded Ensign James Adams, "we're clear so far. Local area is devoid of contacts."

"Comms?"

"Clean, ma'am," reported Lieutenant Alexi Korolev, "no local traffic to speak of."

"Okay, let's do this by the numbers. Helm, lay in a patrol course. Sensors, I want class-ten probes blanketing this system. Tactical, warm up the transports and fighters. If there is anything out there, I want us to be able swarm them if they look off. Comms, monitor for any sort of communications. We'll give it a day, and see if we're dealing with anything before we launch for New Dallas."

Conference Room, ISV Lady Jessica

11 November 861 AS/2006

"Everyone. Listen up." Announced Major Mikhail Loskov, leader of the New Dallas ground mission, to the senior group of soldiers and civilians, "We have finally arrived. Given the caution our superiors have taken during our travel time, it has taken us another month to reach our destination. According to preliminary scans, the system is clean… for now. We are still taking no chances. The Lady Jessica is deploying orbital platforms above New Dallas as we speak."

He pressed a button on his wrist and activated the holo-imager in the center of the room. It revealed a real-time image of the solar system, complete with orbital maps and their current heading.

"We were lucky on our jump into the system." Loskov continued, "The Lady Jessica jumped on the same side of the star as New Dallas. So, here is the plan: Tomorrow, the Lady Jessica will enter orbit of New Dallas. Given the complete lack of traffic and communications, Fleet Captain Anahera has deemed it clear to proceed faster. Our chances of being detected are slim at best, and the drones deploying the orbital platforms before us will transmit any indications of hostile action. After we get a good picture of the surface of the planet, we will set off in the transports. Doctor Vinogradov will explain the rest from here. Doctor?"

A civilian stepped up to join Loskov. Doctor Pavel Vinogradov, head of the expedition's civilian contingent. They were mostly scientists and former cosmonauts/astronauts. Vinogradov was slated to be commander of the International Space Station for Expedition Fourteen, but that was before the invasion. Now he was here, months away from home on a starship out of science fiction.

"Spasibo, Tovarishch Major." Vinogradov said, "As was stated in our briefing materials, our information of the conditions on New Dallas were suspect at best. Most of what we know come from the BattleTech sourcebooks. Because of this, details are vague at best. What we do know amounts to the planet being nuked into uninhabitability during the early stages of the Succession Wars. At the same time, these sourcebooks said that humans were able to walk about the surface of the planet centuries later to no ill effect on their health. Most importantly there is our primary objective on the world: A Star League memory core. Distressingly, the information we have is unverified. Most of the events alluded to have not happened yet and may never happen at all. Current information reveals that yes, the planet is here before us, right where the sourcebooks said it is supposed to be and it is listed as uninhabitable. The most current information available on the planet is centuries old and none of those we have interviewed concerning this have ever heard of this planet. This entire mission is based on a gamble that the sourcebooks are right."

"We have new data coming in from the probes and approaching orbital platforms." Stated Major Loskov, "According to preliminary observations, the planet has a nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere within a comfortable temperature range. There is also no sign of significant radioactivity that would make landing dangerous. If all goes well, the ISA may decide to establish a long-term post here."

Bridge, ISV Lady Jessica

"Incredible." Muttered Doctor Vinogradov as he studied the latest sensor readings alongside sensor officer Ensign Adams.

"You can say that again, doc." Adams replied, "Aside from the ruins of the cities, the place is a damn verdant ball."

"The craters in the centers of these cities are consistent with large singular explosions, but the radioactivity is lower than that of a typical coal powerplant back on Earth… If nuclear weapons were deployed here, they are the cleanest weapons I have ever seen."

"It is safe to proceed?" asked Major Loskov from behind them.

"Definitely, Major." Adams eyes scanned over the most recent feed from one of the platforms, "Holy shit."

"What?" asked Vinogradov, looking at the feed, "Govno…"

"That's-"

"Farmland." Finished Major Loskov, "People are still living here."

Hazzard Village

New Dallas

12 November 3021

"SHERIFF!"

The shout broke the peace and quiet. It sent the man slumped in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk in front of him, his head tilted back, and eyes closed in contemplation of deep and meaningful plans a tumble. He hit the ground with a thud and a startled yell that did little to add to the dignity of his office.

He hadn't been sleeping on the job, no. Simply… resting his eyes.

Sherriff Bubba Colton scrambled off the floor and glared over his desk at the old coot who had just barged into his office.

"What do you want, Jesse?" Colton demanded irately. Nope, there was no covering any personal inadequacies with belligerence here. None at all. "I'm a busy man, y'know."

"Gonna be even busier, Sheriff," Jesse replied. "We're about to be invaded. You need to call out the Home Guard now!"

"Oh, lordy, not this again," Colton muttered as he came around the desk. "You're going senile, old man. There ain't no moving lights in the sky. There ain't no giant mechs comin' to steal our riches and women. And there ain't no Droppers. Ain't no one see any of that in nigh two hundred years or more. You're seeing things, Jesse."

"Seeing things, am I?" Jesse replied, insulted as the aspersions cast upon his character. "C'mere, then."

"Hey!" Colton squawked when Jesse grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him over to the window with a strength that belied his age. He was the county sheriff, dagnabbit! He should be treated with more respect! "Lemme go!"

"Seeing things, am I?" Jesse repeated, shoving the sheriff's head out the open window. He pointed in the direction of the Old Capitol City. "So tell me I ain't seeing that."

There in the distance – Colton couldn't tell how far because he didn't have a frame of reference – burned multiple pillars of brilliant flame atop each of which sat a metal vessel descending from the sky. A low rumble filled the air. They fit the descriptions in the old yarns about Droppers perfectly.

The Sheriff gawked, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

Baliset-Class Transport Vessel

"Tovarishch Major, we have been detected by the locals." Captain Tasha Petronova reported in crisp Russian. She was tasked with watching the orbital platform feeds as they descended, "The orbital platforms are showing people converging on at least five villages. Some of them appear to be using powered ground vehicles of some kind."

Major Loskov nodded in acknowledgement. Motorized vehicles were the latest in a long litany of things that they hadn't expected. First, the planet was supposed to be irradiated wasteland; it wasn't. Second, it was supposed to be uninhabited; the farmlands and villages spotted from orbit gave the lie to that as well. Third, their own preliminary observations of the villages had led them to believe that the New Dallas locals had regressed to a pre-industrial level of technology; now that appeared to not be the case either.

If it weren't for the fact that New Dallas's continents were the wrong shape, Wayne would have started thinking that they had just discovered another temporally displaced Earth, one from some alternate universe where World War III had really happened.

Good thing he had opted to be cautious, Loskov thought. The LZ he had chosen was in one of the craters left by a nuke. It was sufficiently close to the ruins do that they could explore easily while at the same time far enough from the villages so that the expedition could control how, when, and where they met with the locals. As near as his people could tell, the city ruins were still uninhabited, so there wouldn't be any locals nearby when they landed.

Caddo City Ruins

"Hooey! Look at all those Droppers, Bob," the boy – young man really, but everyone called him and his cousin 'boys' – said as he looked at the Droppers through the telescope, a relic they had found in the ruins with fancy magic numbers that told the user how far away stuff was. They were hidden on an upper floor of a tower that bordered the crater the Droppers had landed in. "Must be darn near a dozen of 'em."

"Nah, I make it closer to six or seven, Luke," the other boy said. "Can you see who they are?"

The boys had been in the Old Capitol City scavenging for high tech when the Droppers had come down. They knew that weren't supposed to be in the City because there was supposed to be some kind of poison in its air, but the boys had never gotten sick all the times they had visited looking for useful scrap. The few times they had been caught, they had been thoroughly whupped and told how lucky they had been. Still that didn't stop them from coming back from time to time. People needed the stuff they found.

"Uh, there's some kind of gold birdy painted on the side," Luke said. "That must make 'em the Sunnies, right?"

"Nah, the Sunnies got a sword," Bob said. "It's the Fowls that got birds."

"I thought the Fowls had purple birds," Luke said doubtfully. "And ain't it Owies that got a sword?"

"Well if'n I remember my lessons right," Bob said slowly, trying to remember old tales told to them by their Ma and Pa, "both the Sunnies and the Owies use a sword brand."

"That's stupid," Luke protested. "Why would two Houses use the same brand?"

"You got me there," Bob admitted. "But it's true, I tell you."

"But… hold on, I think they're coming out," Luke said, turning his attention back on the Droppers.

Ramps had lowered from each of the Dropper's rears. At the top of the ramp, great doors opened, sliding aside instead of swinging open like naturally designed doors. The boys braced themselves to see giant walking mechs step out. Instead, multiple armed vehicles surged forth from the openings.

"We look like conquistadors, Major, landing on the shores of the new world." Doctor Vinogradov spat, watching the vehicles deploy on the ship's small bridge. Each of the six transports followed ISA standard landing procedure. They all deployed their vehicles to cover and secure the LZ, "Hardly a diplomatic entrance."

"Doctor, do you know what I used to do?" Major Loskov asked.

"That information is buried in the depths of SVR Headquarters, but I can hazard some guesses."

"Let me just say this: This is much more diplomatic than any other mission I have ever participated in. The safety of our people is paramount, Doctor. I prefer us being overt in such things, and I am glad the ISA agrees."

"Hmph." Vinogradov grunted.

"Major," Captain Petronova announced, "LZ is secure and we are clear to begin establishing our forward operating base."

"Good." Replied Loskov, "Get the work crews to start carrying out our materials. Coordinate with the Lady Jessica for constructor drone support. The light 'mechs we were assigned, get them on hauling duty. I want this base operational within the week."

"Yes, Tovarishch Major."

"Hey, look! 'Mechs!"

The old stories all agreed that when the Droppers came back, they'd be bringing men in giant metal suits to kill and destroy in the name of whatever House they served. So far that hadn't been happening. Instead, the Droppers had disgorged people and vehicles carrying stuff. What stuff, neither boy could say, but there was a lot of it, and there were more working vehicles in one place here than either boy had seen in their entire lives.

Neither of them had seen anything that resembled 'mechs. Until now. Still, there was something off about them…

"Are you sure those are 'mechs, Bob?" Luke said doubtfully.

The 'mechs – if mechs they were – weren't acting like marauding engines of mass destruction. They were… carrying stuff out of the Droppers just like the people and vehicles were.

"I'm sure they're 'mechs," the other boy said, equally doubtful. "Maybe."

"I dunno, maybe…" Luke broke off when something caught his attention. "Hey, check out the guy in charge."

"Which guy is that?"

"The one that ain't carrying stuff and waving his arms like a chicken," Luke explained. "Look at his shoulder."

"I can't see anything," Bob complained. "My scope's not as good as yours."

"The guy in charge, he's got the Flag on his shoulder," Luke said.

"You're kidding."

"No, seriously, he does!" Luke insisted. "These guys ain't the Houses. It's the Camerons come back!"

"But…"

"C'mon, we gotta go say hello!"

"But… hey, wait for me!"

Major Loskov helped direct unloading traffic, pointing out locations to place down equipment and supplies. A pair of Javelin and Commando 'mechs were ferrying the first pieces off their temporary base. Light 'mechs were determined to be far too fragile to deploy to Antallos, so they were assigned to the New Dallas expedition to see if the new ISA-spec upgrades would improve their capabilities in a much lower impact mission.

"Care with those!" Loskov called over comms, "The Lady Jessica can't cover all our losses!"

"Yes, Major." One of the Javelin pilots replied.

"All forces, alert!" Captain Petronova's voice boomed over comms, "Active contact, coming in from the city!"

Loskov unslung and shouldered his weapon, "All civilians, fall back to the transports! 'Mechs, place your cargo down and get behind the vehicles!"

He took cover behind a nearby IFV and prepared for combat. He noted on his HUD the contact was getting closer, but as it closed music began to fill the air. He peeked from behind cover and spotted an orange-painted wheeled vehicle take to the air to clear a low wall. It landed, slewed about in a spray of gravel and dirt, and approached the ISA landing zone at a much more sedate pace. The vehicle came to a stop at the edge of the group. Loskov noted the lack of weaponry.

Two men climbed out through the windows. The vehicle either had no doors, or they weren't functional. One man was blonde, the other dark haired.

Loskov kept his weapon leveled, "Identify yourselves."

"Howdy!" the blonde man greeted with a thick accent, "I'm Luke, this is my brother Bob. Welcome to New Dallas!"

"What in the hell is any of this?" Doctor Vinogradov asked, studying the fusion powered vehicle. Except for being painted bright orange with a flag on top - not the Confederate Flag, but the flag of the state of Texas - the vehicles did not look the slightest bit like a 1969 Dodge Charger. It more resembled a cross between an American SUV and a monster truck.

"Have you ever seen Dukes of Hazzard, Doctor?" Loskov asked.

"I have, Major. The question still stands." Vinogradov replied.

"It is a good question. Now, I have a question for you, Doctor: What are the chances of this happening?"

"Astronomical, Major. Simply astronomical. The odds would have to be calculated by one of the VIs, and they would probably take a while."

"Interesting. I admit that I am concerned about the implications of the locals having fusion vehicles. We thought from our initial orbital scans they had regressed to our tech level before the invasion. That seems to be not the case."

"Major, it may still be. From what those two men have divulged," Vinogradov motioned to the two locals attempting to flirt with a female scientist probably twice their age, "their vehicle is an old family heirloom dating back to the Star League era. My best guess, from all the information that this universe has currently presented us with, any and all high technology will be similar heirlooms and remnants of the past ages."

"Ragnarök-proofing, Doctor?"

"Precisely. This civilization built their technology to last. I will say that I think the odds of finding the New Dallas Memory Core just went up."

"Why do you think that?"

"Major, the locals can be our guides. Bob and Luke over there have told us they have spent a lot of time exploring the ruins. If anyone knows the location of a bunker that could harbor the secrets of the Star League, it will be the locals."

Township of Al'Isard

15 November 2006/861 AS/3021

For all its Texan trappings the planet of New Dallas had some decidedly non-Texan cultural artifacts, Major Loskov thought to himself as he sat across the table from the local leaders. The town's name suggested Arabic origins except 'Isard' certainly wasn't Arabic. Loskov wasn't certain where the name had originated from. Even the individual names of the people he had been introduced to tended to run the gamut of Earth's cultures.

He put it down to the cultural mixing in the intervening centuries that he had studied. God knew cultural cross-pollination was already occurring on Earth even before the invasion.

"I must say, Major, the news you have for us is a might disappointing." Boss Tycho Jefferson said. 'Boss' seemed to be an official title, somewhere between 'Major' and 'Landlord.' If it was an inheritable title like so many in the Inner Sphere, the lack of deference shown by the other locals seemed to indicate that he wasn't abusive of his power… or that his power was more circumscribed than elsewhere. "On the other hand, we been left alone since the Rain o' Fire which from the sounds of it, was quite a blessing in disguise."

"I imagine so, Mister Jefferson." Loskov replied, "All information indicates that everyone else in the Inner Sphere has forgotten you exist. The few that do remember think your world has been rendered uninhabitable."

"Yeah, about that," Sherriff Colton interjected, "It's my job to enforce the law around these parts and you people are breaking it by sitting in the Old Capitol. For your own health, I gotta ask you to move out of there."

"If you are speaking about potential radiation poisoning, Sherriff, I can assure you that we are taking every precaution possible." Loskov assured the man.

"What precautions?" Jefferson asked, intrigued.

"When we conducted our orbital scans, we did it specifically because we heard that no one would be leaving here. We were also informed why. As a result, we have come equipped with radiation detection gear. Our armor and vehicles are also rated for near every possible nuclear, biological, and chemical threat known to the ISA."

"Really?" Jefferson mused, "Could we perhaps… I dunno… borrow some of this gear? Despite the injunction against going into the Old Capitol some people do anyway, risking their lives and the lives of any little ones they might yet have. 'Course, we have to punish them but that's always just a slap on the wrist, especially if they bring back something useful."

"Boss!" Colton objected.

"Now, now, Bubba, you know it's true." Jefferson turned back to Loskov, "Truth is, Major, there's stuff we need in the ruins of the old cities, things we can't make anymore but which make life so much easier."

"The Inner Sphere calls it lostech." Loskov stated.

"Lostech… yeah, that has quite a ring to it…" Jefferson almost tasted the word, "So, you'll understand why I'm asking for your stuff."

"I understand, but it is not necessary." Loskov raised his had to forestall protest, "According to our latest data, the level of hazardous radiological, chemical, or biological is negligible at worst. From what we can tell, any remaining hazards are the ruins themselves, not radiation or the like. It seems to be safe."

"Safe? For real?" Jefferson was awestruck. Loskov could have sworn he just saw Jefferson's eyes change into dollar signs, complete with the sound of a ringing cash register.

What did I just do? Loskov thought to himself.

Caddo City Ruins

16 November 2006/861 AS/3021

It was an interesting procession of vehicles that wound its way through the debris-choked streets of the ruined city. At the head was a bright orange SUV/Monster Truck built during the heyday of the Star League. Following it was two black Vernius Infantry Fighting Vehicles, manufactured a couple of decades ago according to the ISA. Following them was a Javelin BattleMech whose manufacturing date was sometime in the depths of the Succession Wars.

Doctor Vinogradov was reminded of his childhood in the old Soviet Union. Ladas manufactured in the 1960s were still on the roads alongside modern Mercedes Benz and BMWs. It was almost homely.

The lead vehicle pulled to a stop. Bob and Luke climbed out of the General Li, the name for their vehicle, as the others did the same behind them. Squads of soldiers took up defensive positions as Vinogradov approached the pair, his driver Captain Sonja Delacruz close behind.

"Is there a problem?" Vinogradov asked.

"Naw. The place you want is just around the corner." Luke said as he pointed, "We just gotta go on foot from here." He grinned and winked at Delacruz, "Place is cursed, don't ya know."

"That's horseshit!" The Javelin's current pilot, one Lieutenant Howard Tiffany boomed over his external speakers. Without waiting for a reply his 'mech took one long stride for the corner.

"Lieutenant, hold!" Delacruz called over comms.

Too late. Delacruz couldn't stop the young Lieutenant from clearing the corner. An instant later, a laser pulse seared itself into Vinogradov's vision as the beam impacted the 'mech's shield. The soldiers around them hugged their cover and peeked around, looking for the threat. Tiffany reacted instantly and backpedaled his 'mech out of the sight of the shooter. He was partially successful, managing to get out of line of sight, but also tripped on a van-sized piece of building that was in the middle of the street. The Javelin came down with a ground-shaking crash.

"Tiffany, are you okay!?" Vinogradov called over comms.

"Fucker! Straight impact on the shields!" Tiffany replied, obviously shaken, "It was three hundred meters away! Shit!"

"Goddamnit, Tiffany!" Delacruz hollered, "You better not have busted that 'mech! If you have, if you so much as twitch without my blessing, I will strip you of command of that 'mech! So help me God, if you put our asses out like that again, you will spend the rest of your time here on New Dallas neck deep in shit and no one will be able to dig you out! Is that understood!?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Okay," Vinogradov shook his head and turned to Bob and Luke, "What was it that took a shot at Tiffany and how should we deal with it?"

Township of Al'Isard

"My friends," Jefferson began, addressing the assembled people of Al'Isard. "Thanks to our new friends from the stars here, we are entering a new age. The poisons that plague the Old Cities are gone. It is now safe to go and reclaim the lost… the lostech of our forebears and reach new heights of prosperity."

"However, let's not just go rushing in," Jefferson went on. "Who knows how run down the Old Cities have become with the passing generations. We need to watch each other's backs after all, make sure everyone is safe, organize…"

"And you'll be doing the organizing, won't you Tycho?" one of the citizens jeered.

"Naturally, Jesse," Jefferson replied. If he noticed the sarcasm, he gave no sign of it. "I've spent my whole life organizing people. I ain't called 'Boss' for nothing."

"Sure, and I'll bet you'll charge a fee for anyone who wants to go," Jesse went on. "Lord forbid we just walk over there with our own two feet."

"Now, now, we are talking about the safety of the people going there…"

At this point, Loskov tuned out the argument brewing over how to best loot the ruins. No one was paying him any mind, it wasn't any of his business, and he really did need to check in with the rest of his people.

He stepped out of the Town Hall. A Vernius IFV was parked on the cobblestone street in front of it. His XO Captain Petronova waited with it along with a squad of his soldiers. They were surrounded by and apparently entertaining curious local children. She snapped to attention when she noticed his approach. He motioned for her to be at ease.

"It goes well, sir?" Petronova asked.

"At the moment." Loskov replied, "The people here seem more concerned with looting the ruins than attacking us. Of course, that does not mean that their people and ours will not come into conflict while exploring, but at least we are not at the 'shoot on sight' level of relations." large number of the Al'Isard citizens in the Town Hall had been carrying firearms if primitive ones that wouldn't have been out of place in the late 19th century. It reminded him of his studies of American history, specifically the section of the Old West, "I may have accidentally started a Gold Rush, Captain."

"Sir?"

"A series of events in the Old West of America, but lostech instead of gold." Loskov shook his head, "Even if the locals do not realize it, they are going to have problems with claim jumpers, armed robbery, and a torrent of souls from towns farther away looking to make a fortune."

"I was not aware you studied American History, Tovarishch Major." Petronova noted.

"It was something I deigned to do while under the employ of the SVR, Captain. We are going to have to increase our ground presence and operational security, possibly provide assistance to the locals to keep the peace." Loskov shifted gears, "Anything arise while I was inside?"

"Nothing but the normal status updates, but the children have some interesting stories."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, Major. Shortly after the 'Rain of Fire,' people were trying to rebuild some semblance of civilization. Unfortunately, there were problems with marauding gangs attacking communities and looting valuables. Civilization might have been totally lost right there, except that a single hero would often come out of nowhere, defeat the bandits, save the town, and presumably die heroically in the process. It seemed this figure showed up in many places, saved many towns, and defeated many gangs. This man is apparently idolized by the majority of New Dallas."

"What, did this hero reincarnate multiple times?"

"This hero was named Max."

Loskov narrowed his eyes incredulously.

"I watched those movies too, once."

Caddo City Ruins

"How is your drone piloting, Captain?" Vinogradov asked Delacruz.

"I didn't spend my months in transit doing nothing, Doc." She responded, "Will this work?"

"I have no idea. I do know that given the state of the path to the entrance, we cannot bring the IFVs to withstand the fire and I do not want one of us to get killed."

"Good point." She pressed a button on her arm. It activated a remote-control link to one of the drones in the IFVs, "I'm ready, Doc."

"Good luck, Captain. Try not to fire on the weapon. We may want to study it."

"Understood." Her helmet's vision transitioned to that of the drone, "Let's do this thing."

The drone detached from the nearest IFV and blew around the corner. The laser fired, its blast missed starboard by more than a meter. Delacruz jinked port, the laser missed again and again, both shots wide. She was closing fast, nearing the entrance but the laser seemed to get better and better at countering her movement. She tried to pull the drone skyward, but there was no more room to maneuver. She cursed silently as she saw the barrel of the laser lock on and…

"Bzzzt! I'm sorry," the laser turret suddenly said with a voice that sounded a lot like the late Majel Barrett Roddenberry. "but your ten thousand shot demonstration of the GM Sentinel 2800 has expired. To fully activate this system, please contact your nearest General Motors sales representative and purchase an authorized activation code."

"Uhh, Doc?" Delacruz asked, "You hear that?"

"Yes I did, Captain." Vinogradov turned to the rest of the party, "Well, shall we?"

Star League Bunker

"Bob, Luke, any ideas of how to get inside?" Vinogradov asked as he looked up at the looming portal. The massive, sliding doors were shut tight, barring entrance to the Star League facility within. The doors themselves were pockmarked and scored with craters and burns, testimony to its ability to resist over the preceding centuries.

The efforts of said centuries were not in vain. Six defense turrets lined the front of the entrance. Five of them had been destroyed or disabled by weapons fire. The sixth had been intact enough to keep taking pot shots at passersby for the remainder before it had disabled itself before it would have destroyed the drone. A portable fusion reactor with capacitors hid in the shadow of one of the turrets with cables snaking to the rest of them. It seemed to have been running on and off for the past few centuries, a testament to Star League era engineering. The whole set-up looked horribly improvised to those assembled.

"I dunno, Doc," Luke said, staring up at the same doors in awe. He shook his head. "We never found anything this big before."

"But we have found locked vaults sometimes," Bob added thoughtfully. "If this is like those, we ought to look for a panel with fancy buttons. We got real good with picking those."

"Well good luck with this one," Delacruz said disgustedly. She pointed at the door frame at about the location and height where an intercom or computer terminal might have been. In its place was a melted metal and plastic mess, victim of a long-ago stray energy weapons blast.

"Yeah, that'd make things a might harder," Bob admitted.

"There has to be a way inside." Vinogradov said to no one in particular, "It cannot be this difficult, or else the Sourcebooks would have mentioned something."

"The what?" Luke asked, curious.

"But, Doctor, you said it yourself, the info we had on New Dallas was very sketchy," Delacruz pointed out. "There were lots of things about New Dallas that weren't mentioned, like people still living here."

"You know what they're talking about?" Luke asked Bob.

"Not a clue, cuz," Bob replied.

"Still, it cannot have been that hard." Vinogradov sighed, somewhat frustrated, "Why did the Americans have to write the books?"

"How about we blast our way in?" Delacruz suggested. "Tiffany's mech is carrying those bunker busters after all."

"No." Vinogradov replied flatly, "The bunker could be set to self-destruct if we try anything so crude, like the one on Helm is supposed to be. I wish we could bring one of the Vernius' around. The lasers on those could easily be our cutting tool."

"Too bad that ray gun's not working anymore," Luke added, pointing at the now quiescent turret. "I bet you could use it to cut a door."

"Actually, it still works." Vinogradov said absently, "It is just programmed not to…" His eye flashed with inspiration, "Luke! Ogromnoe spasibo!"

"What?" Luke asked.

"Star League technology is modular. We can disconnect the targeting computer and modify the power output to fire a lower-powered beam instead of high-powered bursts."

"You sure that's possible, Doctor?" Delacruz asked.

"I am not just a cosmonaut, Captain." Vinogradov replied with determination as he pried open a panel on the turret's side, "This is child's play."

Township of Al'Isard

"So, you're the man who started all this hullabaloo, eh?" a man said, catching Loskov's attention. The town meeting had broken up for lunch which had to Loskov's bemusement turned into a general party when people from neighboring towns had started arriving. This man was richly dressed for a local and the woman on his arm even more so. They also looked vaguely familiar for some reason.

"Major Mikhail Loskov, Independent Systems Alliance," he greeted as he extended his hand, "You are?"

"Nelson, Boss John Romero Nelson from Al'Pelleon," the man introduced himself. There was an undertone of suspicion and hostility in his voice and body language. Despite this, he took Loskov's hand and shook it firmly. He nodded at the woman on his arm. "My wife, Jean Anne."

"Now, J.R. Be nice," Nelson's wife chided to her husband. She shook Loskov's hand after her husband let it go. "Nice to meet you, Major. Don't mind my husband here if he's a bit of an ungrateful bastard."

"Jeannie!"

Loskov scrutinized them both. He had seen little of the old Dukes of Hazzard television show, but this pair reminded him of a pair of actors from said show. This new reality was a strange one.

"…just don't see where they get off with the right to upsetting everything 'round here," J.R. was saying. "We had a good life, right? Outsiders from the sky are going to be nothing but trouble."

"It was not our intention to cause social upset, Mister Nelson." Loskov told the man, "In truth, we would like to extend the olive branch of peace and friendship."

"And how do we know that anything you say is the truth?" Nelson asked, still suspicious. "Hasn't our poor world suffered enough? It's 'cause we trusted outsiders like Kerensky," he spat on the ground, "to protect us that we wound up with the Rain of Fire. How do we know you're not more of the same?"

"You do not." Loskov stated plainly, "Trust is something that is gained with time. It is something to be earned. I thought the same of the people who brought me here, and yet here I am. So, Mister Nelson, we would like the opportunity to earn your trust, if you will permit us."

"Huh, well I'll be," Nelson said, surprised. "Honesty."

"Tovarishch Major," Petronova called as she appeared through the crowd, "Doctor Vinogradov is on comms asking for you."

Star League Bunker

"Where did all these people come from?" Vinogradov wondered aloud while watching the crowd filter into the bunker. When Loskov arrived, it looked like he had brought the whole population of New Dallas with him. Everyone looked about and gawked like tourists.

To be fair, there was plenty to gawk at. The first of many chambers was a literal parking lot, half filled with civilian vehicles belonging to the citizens of New Dallas. The other half was filled with ancient military vehicles and tanks, damaged from the fighting action of centuries ago. There were other chambers, also partially filled with vehicles and mechs and crates unopened since they came from the factory. The bunker's contents would have been the score of a lifetime in the Inner Sphere. What it meant for the people of New Dallas - or the ISA for that matter - was simply incalculable.

"Soldiers! Keep an eye on the civilians," Loskov ordered, "make sure they do not injure themselves on anything inside!" he pulled Vinogradov aside, "Is it safe to let them wander about?"

"Good luck trying to prevent them," snorted a finely dressed gent who was apparently following Wayne. Or at least he was dressed more richly than the crowd's average. "I may be a Boss, but even I know what I can and can't tell people to do."

"Nonsense, J. R," another richly dressed man said. "You just got to know how to talk to people and project authority."

"Yeah?" J. R. replied. "Is that why all your people make fun of you, Tycho?"

"Well, Major," Vinogradov replied as he ignored the byplay, "We have not been able to thoroughly sweep the bunker for traps, but we are fairly certain there are no more automated gun turrets ready to shoot on sight."

"Ooh, that sounds bad," J. R. said. He turned to the crowd and shouted. "NO ONE GO OFF ALONE! BUDDY RULES ARE IN EFFECT, PEOPLE!" That got a smattering of acknowledgements.

"Doctor, did you find it?" Loskov asked.

"Find what?" Tycho asked sharply.

"Yes, Major." Vinogradov replied. He motioned for them to follow, "Follow me."

It was a fine procession that Vinogradov led into the bunker's control room. In addition to Major Loskov, J.R, Tycho, a small escort of soldiers, and what seemed to be everyone even vaguely considered an authority figure on New Dallas had joined in to see what all the fuss was about. An open area at the front of the control room was filled with bodies laid out and covered with blankets. Over the corpses stood Bob and Luke, obviously trying to give last rites to the dead and making a hash of it.

"What…" someone began.

"These are the remains of command crew here," Vinogradov explained. "It looks like they died at their posts."

"We should give them a proper burial," J.R. said solemnly.

"That we should," Tycho said a little less respectfully. His eyes flicked over to Loskov, "but you boys came here for something, something specific, and I don't think it's the dead."

"Correct." Vinogradov confirmed. He walked over to what looked like a metal cabinet with a computer terminal built into it. The terminal was lit up and had a progress bar going. Next to the terminal were two neat stacks of cartridges. One pile had a note card labeled 'Empty'. The other, much smaller pile was labeled 'Done'. He placed a hand on the terminal.

"This." Vinogradov said in a hushed tone of awe, "This is what we came for."

"Er, what is it?" Tycho asked, puzzled. "It don't look all that impressive."

"What is it?" Vinogradov echoed, "It is-"

"Doctor…" Loskov warned.

"Major, we are not Nazis nor are we the NKVD." Vinogradov argued, "This is their home, and they need it as much as we do, if not more so."

Loskov glanced at the crowd of New Dallas leaders and came to a decision. He nodded to Vinogradov.

"What this is," Vinogradov patted the cabinet, "is possibly the most important thing on this planet, perhaps even the entire Inner Sphere. We call it a 'Memory Core' and what makes it so valuable is that it contains knowledge."

"How is that valuable?" Tycho asked, annoyed. He didn't seem to understand, but here and there, some of the others showed dawning comprehension.

"This holds everything the Star League knew," Vinogradov said. "Everything about fusion reactors, computers, space travel…"

"It contains everything you need to know on how to recreate civilization from scratch." Loskov interjected, "Mister Jefferson, I seem to recall that you told me your people needed to scavenge the ruins because none of you knew how to build it anymore."

"I seem to recall something to that effect," Tycho admitted.

"What this Memory Core allows is the knowledge of how to build it all." Loskov told him, "Not just one or two items, everything. What your ancestors knew, you will know."

"That's… that's…" J. R. began, obviously searching for words.

"That's fantastic!" squealed the woman at J. R's side.

"That's hor…good, yes, good," Tycho said, seemingly less than enthused. "Obviously, such knowledge needs to be carefully considered and in the hands of experts-"

"No."

"Excuse me, Doctor," Tycho said, turning to the speaker. "What was that?"

"No." Vinogradov repeated, "Knowledge is precious, but it does no good locked up and viewed only by a select few. I have lived that. The results were disastrous. For the Memory Core to do you any good, it needs to be accessible where anyone and everyone can access it. Keeping it locked up does no one any good except those holding the key. Do you really want to rebuild your civilization? Then let anyone who wants to know the contents know so they can fully contribute to the rebuilding."

"But, Doctor, there's only the one Memory Core," J. R. pointed out.

"This?" Vinogradov asked as he looked at the cabinet, "This is just a mainframe for holding and reading the core. There is a whole room full of spare mainframes and portable readers just down the hall, but the contents of the core can fit into one of these." He picked up a cartridge from the side table. This universe's processors were bulky and inefficient, but their storage technology rivaled any commercial hard drive produced on Earth. It was a certainly a worthy subject of study by the ISA to see if they could improve upon their own storage technology.

"We are making copies as fast as we can." Vinogradov stated, "Every town can have a copy."

"Wait a sec," Tycho said. "You're just giving this to us?"

"Why not?" Vinogradov shrugged, "We have transmitted copies to our superiors and have made a few copies for ourselves."

"Free?" Tycho continued. He had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept.

"There there, Tycho," J.R. said, patting the other man on the shoulder. "I know the idea's a might hard for you, but I'm sure you'll get ahold of it." He turned to Loskov. "Still, Tycho does have a point even if he don't know it. What do you folks get out of this anyway?"

"Besides the Memory Core?" Loskov stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Our orders were to establish a base here to support operations in the Inner Sphere. That would be a lot easier if we were friends and could trade for necessities like food. Now that I think about it, you able to make and sell any parts we need would be a tremendous boost."

"Sell?" Tycho said suddenly, perking up. "Did someone say 'sell'?"

"Of course, the Memory Core is of no use if you do not know the basics of the contents." Vinogradov mused aloud. He turned to Loskov, "Major, shall we ask our superiors about opening a university?"

ISA Foreign Legion Administration Building

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

31 November 3021/861 AS/2006

Major Staedele was bored. The last four weeks had been nothing but escort duty for the scavenging teams, standard garrison duty, and the continued training exercises with the new blood in the Foreign Legion. Between this, getting the salvaged artillery pieces working from the battlefield (in no small part thanks to the ISA Engineer Corps) and paperwork there was really nothing exciting happening. Many days came down to him sitting in his bare office filing paperwork.

Contact with Earth was frequent, which helped break the routine. He was able to see his family much more frequently than he ever thought possible. The conversations were real time, and they didn't pass through ComStar's HPG network, which blew his mind. He still wondered how they were able to do it. This real-time network also enabled him to manage Earth-side business. Two major arms manufacturers had been flooding him with calls, which filled up a good amount of his time.

His eyes wandered to his desk. Atop it sat a phone, a glass of water, and more paperwork. He took a drink of his water and looked over the first piece of paper. According to this, a few techs and a couple of his infantrymen had a bit too much to drink the day before and spent the night in the drunk after they had picked a fight with a few MPs. He sighed. Latrine duty and a one-shot pay reduction for the lot, he decided. First, he had to speak to their immediate superiors, see what-

BEEP

His train of thought was interrupted by his phone, "I thought I told everyone that I was busy for the next hour?" He asked himself. He picked up the phone.

"Major Staedele."

"Boss, it's Marc. Sorry for the interruption, but we have a ComStar Adept out here at the base entrance with a couple of messages for us. He says that due to the nature of a couple of them, he has to hand you the lot in person."

Staedele rubbed his temple, "He can't just hand them over to you?"

"I already tried that. Guy says he can't."

"Fine." Staedele shook his head, "I'm coming down. Tell him to wait for a couple of minutes." He hung up, grabbed his cover, and left.

Staedele re-entered with a folder emblazoned with the insignia of ComStar in his hand. Marc followed close behind.

"Well, at least he apologized for all the commotion." Marc said.

"Yeah. At least it broke up the monotony." Staedele sat behind his desk and motioned for Marc to sit in one of the empty chairs, "You seem busy." He said with dripping sarcasm.

"Oh yeah. Absolutely buried with work." Marc laughed, "Mind if I take a look at the mail too?"

"Be my guest." Staedele took a sip of water, "What do we have here… a notification from the MRB that they received our status update. The information in the board. What else… personal letters to our people. Send those to the triple-S and then deliver those among the men. Those people want to be sure of everything."

"Come on, why me?"

"You just seemed so occupied that I wanted to spice things up a bit." Staedele took a mouthful of water before reading the next letter. He choked and spat it on the ground, narrowly missing his desk.

"What?" Marc asked, "You okay, boss?"

Staedele coughed, "I dunno. I might be hallucinating. Lemme read this again." His eyes carefully examined the letterhead as he reread the opening lines of the letter. His shocked expression remained, his silence denoting the weight of the message.

"What the hell is so damn shocking?" Marc Johnson asked, now quite curious.

"I might as well read it aloud. Maybe I'll actually believe it."

To Major Staedele,

I hope this finds you well. We have received word on the treatment of your company from the official in charge of your last assignment with the AFFS, one Alexander Davion, and hereby express our deepest regrets at the actions of this man. Words alone cannot express how truly sorry we are for the way your unit was treated after returning to the Federated Suns. Rest assured that his actions were in no way authorized or condoned by his superiors in the AFFS and that he will face disciplinary measures regarding this matter.

Your unit went above and beyond the call of duty and the terms of your contract with the Federated Suns during the raid on Thestria. These actions have not gone unnoticed. As compensation for your ill treatment as well as your company's courageous actions, we have decided to transfer an appropriate bonus to your ComStar account.

While we are certain this cannot compensate you for the loss of life while on assignment, we do hope you will accept it as an apology for the slights against you by our immoral official. We sincerely hope that you will decide to work with us in the future and assure you that such immoral acts will not happen again.

Sincerely,

Hanse Davion

First Prince of the Federated Suns

The pair sat in silence for a moment as they let the words wash over them.

"Is that true?" Johnson asked.

"The next letter is a confirmation from ComStar." Staedele motioned to the next piece of paper, "Twenty-million C-Bills have been transferred to our account, direct from Hanse Davion himself."

They were in silence again. Staedele shook his head.

"I have to inform General Davis." He stood up, "Until then, this is between us. Don't spoil the surprise to anyone, understood?" Marc nodded. Staedele rushed from his office, again grabbing his cover.

Headquarters of the United Nations

New York City, United States of America

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

1 December 2006

"With that, the United Nations are no more. Like the League of Nations before it, the scope of the responsibilities of the organization is simply not enough to help propel us into this new modern era. In President Ryan's latest, and last, address to the General Assembly, along with the leaders of the People's Republic of China; the Russian Federation; Germany; the United Kingdom; and France they along with over one hundred other nations withdrew from the United Nations. They cited the inability of the UN to capably represent the needs of Earth given our new position in the galaxy at large."

"In its place, the Coalition of Sovereign Nations under the Independent Systems Alliance was officially recognized and inaugurated today mere minutes after the dissolution of the last General Assembly of the United Nations. It will take on many of the same responsibilities of the now defunct UN but will represent Earth in the ISA and on the galactic stage."

"Present were the First Councilor of the ISA Metzli Glass and Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow. They stated their pleasure at the smooth transition of power and reaffirmed their dedication to Earth and its nations. With all member-states of the CSN as members of the ISA, that solved the major legal issues surrounding the hiring of off-world military contractors as such an event had never occurred in Earth's history."

"Critics point out that the CSN has little to no power over the internal affairs of the member nations, but the First Councilor has assured that crises facing our world right now will not be ignored, and that aid will be readily available to the nations and people that need it."

"I'm Barry Wise of CNN. Back to the studio."

Draconis Combine Embassy

Port Kirin

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

17 December 3021/2006

Shanti Taro Kurita was a middle-aged woman who had long served the Pescht District in their internal negotiations with other provinces. This post was an excellent boost to her career, long that she feared had dead ended. Even though the ISA was a small periphery state, it carried with it the air of a Great House. It was an improvement in her fortunes.

At the moment, she and the ISA Ambassador had agreed to a small break in the day's negotiations. She reclined in a private room with her military advisor, Sho-sa Alicia Kurita whom she had replaced as the lead diplomat. This was something for which the younger Kurita held no grudge, being far more comfortable in a BattleMech than at a negotiation table.

"This Charles Smith is indeed an expert wordsmith." Alicia said as she took a sip of water. "I think he is more appreciative of your presence over mine."

"Now then, cousin, he is a good diplomat. I'm sure he recognized that you were temporary and sought to maintain a level of decorum more suited to you than to I." The elder woman tried poured some sugar into a cup of tea that was gifted to her by Ambassador Smith upon her arrival at her post. He called it 'Earl Grey' and she found it to her taste after sweetening.

"I know, Ambassador, but it felt wrong for me to be in that position, and I cannot help but wonder if I insulted him with my fumbled attempts at your duties."

"Sho-sa, he is a professional, not like the Davion dogs. He would not take offence to you no more than I would to any military officer put into your position."

"Very well, but I still felt inadequate to my duties, and that bothers me." Alicia finished her water and waited while Shanti did the same.

"Do not worry over that, cousin. Rather, see it as you are being given the opportunity to expand your bounds in the service of the Dragon."

Alicia stood, and Shanti did the same. "That may be true, Ambassador, and I will reflect upon your words. But now, I believe it is time to return to the meeting room. Perhaps we will be there before the ISA ambassador this time."

Shanti smiled and nodded as she rose. "Let us be off then." They quickly left the room and walked down the hall towards the meeting room. The faint smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air, though both ignored it.

They entered the designated room. They found Charles Smith seated there, reviewing the contents of a folder marked with the symbol of the ISA. He stood as they entered the room and bowed as was his custom. It wasn't a proper Combine greeting, but the sentiment was there so the two women returned the gesture. Taking to their seats, Shanti consulted some of her own papers, noting that the guards from both the ISA and the Combine seemed relaxed. That was good.

Ambassador Kurita raised her head from her papers to speak, only to find the stare of Smith coming at her. The mental pressure put on her by this gaze made her sympathize with the Sho-sa, and she did her best to dismiss it as the trick that it was.

"Ambassador Smith," Shanti began, "we only have a couple more points left to address this day before we retire. The first is the return of Kuritan citizens still held as prisoners on your world."

"Quite." Smith squared up his papers, "Ambassador Kurita, as I know you are aware, we would certainly repatriate your citizens but there are two major issues that stay our hand in that matter. First is that the Kuritans currently held on Earth are there because they took part in acts of war against our world. The attempted invasion by the former administrator of Port Kirin is a grave matter. They simply cannot be set free without due legal process."

Shanti recognized a prepared response when she heard one, and the Motherloder delivered it perfectly. Fortune smiled upon her, as she too had a response ready.

"Charles," she began, knowing the use of first names around the diplomatic table was another part of the game, "we certainly understand that. However, it is our concern that our citizens may be falsely dealt with under your laws. The Dragon himself is interested in the safety of his people, so we must ask that you either hold such trials here at Port Kirin where the Combine can observe or that you allow proper legal representation from the Draconis Combine to travel to Motherlode to represent and aid our citizens."

The ultimatum on the table, Smith leaned forward as he closed the folder before him.

"I must also raise the second issue, my dear Shanti Taro." He tapped the symbol on the folder, "The safety of my homeworld is in question here. Those persons currently detained on Earth are there because they may have information that could be disseminated to parties of ill repute who may think to attempt another ill-fated raid while they may think us defenseless. I am certain you can understand our desire to keep that information close from even our allies and friends until such time as we can be sure of the defense of our home."

Ambassador Kurita kept her face calm as she picked at the logic. He wasn't saying certain things, and she recognized the omissions were as valuable as his words.

"Perhaps," she began, "we can send representatives to your world on one of your JumpShips? That would maintain your security and help establish trust between our peoples."

Charles kept as good a poker face as Shanti took the unspoken offer. It was a calculated risk, one deliberated by those higher up the chain on Earth and Cradle for days and days on end. They had reached a conclusion, and that conclusion had been passed on to him. In the moment, however, he wanted to seem like he was the one making the decision, rather than simply passing along one made weeks ago.

"Very well." Smith carefully conceded, "It seems we have little choice in the matter. I can allow a small team of legal and diplomatic representatives to take an ISA JumpShip back to Cradle for this purpose."

"Excellent! I shall have my staff confer with yours about the details." She flipped the final page of her folder, "Now, for the last item."

"Yes. You have been quite guarded about this one, and I confess some curiosity."

"Indeed. When this message came down to me from Coordinator Kurita himself, I too was taken aback. You see…"

Port Kirin Administration Building

Office of the Basharate

Bashar Superior Serov looked deep into Smith's eyes and saw no duplicity in them.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"The Combine, as near as I can tell, are countering the FedSun's move towards our mercenary companies by offering us a mothballed 'mech parts factory." Smith said, "It's not one to build weapons but rather it was tooled to construct the internal structure and chassis of some of their light 'mechs, such as the Jenner. For our own purposes, we can provide the weapons and armor for export. We would be paid accordingly."

Serov leaned back in his chair, "That's a hell of a move. What did you say?"

"That I had to consult with you first. Although I was tempted to simply say 'yes' right then and there, I didn't want to appear too eager to take the offer. There are some strings attached."

"Those are?"

"It would be a lease, not a sale. We won't own the factory, but we would be responsible for it. Second, we'll be producing parts for the Combine and ourselves. Third, they would require the deployment of a 'mech battalion to guard their investment, both against us and the FedSuns. They are worried about us possibly backstabbing them, but it is nominally to guard against House Davion."

"A battalion, eh? How many 'mechs exactly?"

"They stated thirty-two to thirty-six, under the command of Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita."

"Ah, someone with a head on their shoulders. Good. He didn't try to take advantage of us while we were fighting the pirates and other City-States. He won't do anything stupid."

"So, do you agree with their proposal?"

"Hmm…" Serov mulled it over a bit, "Hell of a gamble. I don't like the idea of another nation's forces here, especially if they try to use the factory or vague threats to the factory as justification to attempt to deploy even more forces. There's also the FedSuns. Their reaction might be problematic."

Smith nodded in agreement, "This is true, but this will give our boffins better examples of working manufacturing techniques and how to apply them to our own designs. Also, this would help bankroll our endeavors further into the Inner Sphere."

"Our engineers would certainly thank us, as would whatever companies end up winning the bid to crew the factory. I don't think we can reject this offer without offending them but make it clear that the defense of the factory will be a joint effort. We take the chance and put our own conditions on the deal."

"Thank you, Bashar. I'll convey the updated terms to Ambassador Kurita and send a message back to Earth. We're going to need specialists and whoever they think prudent for this."

DropShip ISV Brer Rabbit

Low Sian Orbit

Sian System, Capellan Confederation Space

31 December 2006/861 AS/3021

David Jackson stretched his neck as he sat in his quarters/office on the DropShip. He was the civilian representative of John Deere attached to this mission. While most of the crew were spooks or military people, he had the job of signing contracts for trade deliveries and managing resources for the future plant on Helm. He was a former Company man, single, and no living relatives which made him ideal for this mission in addition to his business acumen.

Today he had signed a delivery contract with one of the Capellan state-controlled companies for the delivery of five-hundred units of farming equipment. Tractors, combines, sprayers, the works. Down in the cargo bay other employees as well as ISA personnel were already processing the order, preparing disassembled units for transport.

He reflected on the people assigned to this ship. They were either like him: former Company men and employees of the company who were single and therefore expendable; or members of the ISA's Systems Security Service learning their cover. Some of them were good at their cover jobs by now. Hell, one of his best sales folks was one of the lead spooks. He reckoned it had something to do with being in a profession where a glib tongue was a necessity.

Jackson shuffled some papers and reviewed his current resources on this expedition, finances included. With the generous assistance of the ISV Irulan's fabrication facilities and their resource gathering drones it was quite easy to maintain a large stock of material for their machine shop to keep churning out merchandise. They were well into the black on this trip: the simplicity of their products made it quite easy to move onto worlds with ease.

Privately, he reckoned that sales like these would make John Deere one of the largest companies in the history of mankind if it kept up, but he returned to the present. While the machine shop had most of the materials they needed to continue manufacture, he noted the reports of low rubber and trademarked green paint. He wrote a note up on his computer and sent it up to the Irulan to see if they could get the supplies before their next jump.

He shut down his computer and stood up. For now, work was at an end and it was time to prepare for the New Year's celebration coming up.

WarShip Alexander

Renren System, (Nominal) Lyran Commonwealth Space

Colonel Jamie Wolf paced back and forth in his ready room. Extenuating circumstances necessitated his temporary departure to the WarShip group to centralize the current intelligence findings and confirm or deny some suspicions. Their agent on Antallos had sent in several reports over the preceding months by way of their secure channels and he and the head of Wolfnet gathered to confer over the contents.

"We are sure there is no relation between the ISA and the Falcons?" Jamie asked. He had been worried from the start that there was some hidden influence from Clan Wolf's enemies in this new Periphery state. The vague similarity between the symbols of the Jade Falcons and the Independent Systems Alliance had raised many questions and it seemed there was an answer at last.

"None, Colonel. Our agent in place indicates while the ISA has access to quite advanced technology, none of it matches Falcon specifications."

"The Timber Wolf?"

"They call it a Mad Cat, sir. To them it was the logical addition of arms from what appears to be a Marauder to a Catapult chassis. The weapons armament is much heavier than typical Inner Sphere specifications. From what we have gathered so far, it may be able to match a native Timber Wolf in combat."

"A frankenmech has that level of sophistication? What of their overall weapons technology?"

"Severely outpaces the rest of the Inner Sphere. They show no qualms in utilizing the full brunt of their firepower in any engagement. Our agent noted the widespread use of what appeared to be gauss rifles and pulse lasers, along with orbital weapons fire."

"Explains their superiority on Antallos. According to this they hardly suffered any losses."

"Correct, Colonel."

"Mercenaries?"

"Most notable is the Buron Cavalry. Decent group that got a bad deal from the FedSuns. They have a smattering of other smaller companies, but the Cav is the largest and best organized." The head of Wolfnet handed across another sheet of paper, "Our man is asking for a few more agents to support him. The ISA are rapidly expanding on Antallos and he feels he needs backup to keep pace."

"Send them."

"Aff, Colonel. Any other matters you wish to discuss?"

Jamie pondered the question a moment, "What would you think if we cut our contract with Steiner short and moved to the Combine?"

"Do you really want to keep that close an eye on the situation on Antallos? It would not be a trivial thing, preparing our forces to move and deploying them again in Kuritan space."

"I think we should keep the option open. Also, what should we do if we approached by the ISA?"

"That is a good question, Colonel. Usually I would recommend we stick to the five houses, but if the ISA is as advanced as our agent says they are…"

"We need to know. Draft me some options. Dismissed."

Conference Room, ISV Paul Atredies

High Wolf 359-IV Orbit

Wolf 359 System, Periphery Space

1 January 862 AS/2007

Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow looked around the table at the gathered people and holo-images of this meeting. First Councilor Mezli Glass; recently elected Councilor of Earth Jack Ryan; Bashar Superior Thomas Serov; Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman; Siridar Bashar Tessa Testarossa; and General Don Davis. The past couple of years had shaken their people to their cores, and they had risen to the challenges of emerging in a hostile galaxy. Earth and Cradle now prospered, having established a thriving and bustling exchange of goods, people, and ideas. Earth was in the process of healing, as those formerly dispossessed were given the opportunity to live without fear of hunger, shelter, or oppression. Despite the complexities of Earth's political and economic situation, they were working together.

These points were not the matters of discussion for today's meeting.

"Okay, everyone," Merlow began, "It seems we've made quite the splash in the Inner Sphere since our arrival in the galaxy at large. The houses are whispering, the pirates are diving for cover, and here we are in the middle. Congratulations are in order, especially to you Jack. Unanimously elected Councilor of Earth, well done."

"Thank you, Robert." Ryan acknowledged, "It's an honor to say the least."

"Tom, you and Don have done a number on Antallos. That display of firepower has brought a lot of interesting parties to the fore. I understand that both the Combine and the FedSuns have sent diplomats and we're set to receive a factory from the Combine on Antallos?"

"We're leasing a factory." Serov confirmed, "Bids are underway to who will operate it, but it's quite the coup. The Combine is sending a 'mech battalion to oversee their investment, but we'll keep an eye on them."

"Antallos is set to be a member world in the next few years, but we'll get to that when it happens." Merlow conceded, "Marcus, I understand that you and your Earth contemporaries have begun counterintelligence work?"

"Yes." Scarman brought up an image of Antallos in the center of the table, "We've ruffled some feathers in ComStar it seems. From the taps we have in the Antallos HPG center, we are quite interesting to pretty much every major power in the Inner Sphere. Speculation from the second coming of Kerensky to a lost Hegemony colony. Our apparent technological prowess is disconcerting to the major powers, and ComStar may decide to make a move to try and co-opt us 'back into the fold' as it were."

There was a general murmur of discontent around the table.

"Information is not concrete as of now," Scarman emphasized, "but we should be ready in the event that they try to seize control of nonexistent HPG stations. I think our lack of HPG traffic is quite concerning to them."

"Should we utilize this network more than for external communication?" Councilor Glass asked, "If it will ease their fears, perhaps we should shoulder the risk?"

"Absolutely not." Scarman replied, "Forgive me, Councilor, but our operational security is more important than assuaging the fears of that particular organization."

"I agree with Marcus here." Merlow added, "We can't allow anyone to know where we are until we are quite well ready."

"That brings me to the Combine delegation set to arrive at Earth. Is that wise?" Scarman asked.

"We're not sending them to Earth." Merlow replied.

"We're not?" Serov was confused, "What, Cradle then?"

"Correct, Bashar." Ryan entered the conversation, "In terms of industrial development, we've got Cradle beat by at least ten-fold. In terms of security, Earth is not yet ready to ensure complete operational security in such matters. Metz and I arrived at the conclusion that Cradle will be the best place to send them to. It will also impress upon them the futility of attempting to attack one of our worlds, as Cradle has a fully functional orbital and system defense grid in place."

"Good." Scarman sighed in relief, "I was going to recommend we redirect them to Cradle. That means we're going to need the CSN representatives on Cradle for whatever address they decide to do."

"That won't be a problem." Glass confirmed, "We'll be ready for their arrival, as long as you have the appropriate JumpShips and DropShips in place for transit."

"Yes, about that," Testarossa interjected, "The existing captured JumpShips and DropShips are being stretched to their limits. We can spare one DropShip and JumpShip from their normal routes, but we really have to look at manufacturing our own. If we're going to maintain some semblance of cover for a while yet, we have to put our drydocks to use."

"We have the latest transmission from the Lady Jessica." Scarman replied, "We have our first memory core, and the data therein. We can begin manufacture as soon as we make the appropriate upgrades to the designs."

"Good." Tessa pressed a few buttons on her desk, pouring over a few pages of the information, "I'll run this past RnD. I just want to get rid of our reliance on these abysmal KF drives for our civilian vessels. We can only do so much with them."

"That bring us to money. Have we come up with a way to print our own C-Bills? It'd be nice to get some into circulation on Earth and Cradle without having to deal with ComStar." Merlow asked.

"Oh, we have something." Ryan replied with a smirk, "I think you'll be happy with the results."

Zurich

Switzerland

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

They were shuffled into the nondescript building. Some of them wondered if they were back in prison. Others were much more aware of their location. They were led past security that would put world leaders to shame, checked multiple times for their identity and arms through the myriad of systems.

As they filed into the room, many recognized one another. If not by face, then by reputation. They quietly took their seats around the circular table as the guards about the room remained stoic. Any attempts at speech were quickly quashed. They had all been warned that using real names here would be one of the worst offenses they could commit.

On the hour, a short man entered. Behind his back, they called him 'the Gnome.' To his face, he was 'Sir.' He had a nondescript black briefcase cuffed to his wrist. Those around the table squirmed uncomfortably.

"Ladies and Gentemen." The short man nodded at each in turn. He carefully placed the briefcase on the table. The guard next to him produced a key, which released the cuff from his wrist and unlocked the case. It opened with a snap. He rotated it to face the gathered throng.

"I have here ComStar Letters of Credit, commonly known as C-Bills, in denominations up to one hundred." He passed out a couple of stacks around the table. Those gathered examined them: touching, seeing, smelling, listening to the crinkle, even tasting. He cleared his throat.

"We have been asked to make more."

ComStar Central Headquarters

Hilton Head Complex, Terra

Sol System, ComStar Space

7 January 3022

The Primus of ComStar and his and Precentor ROM abstained from the normal office meeting for one far more secure. They took a walk into one of the large greenhouse gardens where the ambient noise made any sort of eavesdropping near impossible. Their being alone added another layer of security.

Julian Tiepolo, Primus, reclined on a bench as he thumbed through the briefing Precentor ROM Tojo Jarlath handed him.

"These ISA people have caused quite the stir." He noted as he read through.

"Yes, Primus." Jarlath replied, "One could certainly say that. The fact there was a very determined reporter at the Antallos HPG station during the battle enabled near real-time coverage and quick dissemination to be uploaded to the network. The news then took a life of its own."

"How much did we make for the repeater fees from the data transmission?" Tiepolo was trying to do quick math of what that five-second video clip transmission must have made.

"Not as much as we would have liked, sir." Jarlath shook his head, "Precentor Luthien Rashmi Patel authorized a mass transmission discount. He said he felt it the prudent thing to do, given the subject matter."

Tiepolo nodded. There was no reason to berate Precentor Luthien for his actions. It was good to make such offerings to the public from time to time. It kept trust in ComStar, and trust that they had their best interests at heart. Ultimately, according to ComStar, they did. He flipped back and forth between a few items as he compared notes that caught his interest, then moved on.

"Be at ease, Precentor." Tiepolo motioned for Jarlath to sit down, "From the way the public and some of the Houses are behaving, one would think that they are the second coming of Kerensky and his lost expedition."

"I still don't like it." Jarlath sat across from his superior, "This information is woefully inadequate. They are as hard to penetrate as the Dragoons despite their apparent size. To your previous point, many agencies have tackled that assertion and quite firmly deny any connection. We have no reason to doubt their denials as of yet, although there did appear to be some confusion from the reports when they were sent. Some indicate this ISA is a deep ancient Hegemony colony, while others believe they date back to the First Exodus."

"This. This I do not like." Tiepolo tapped the page before him. It was a copy of a notebook that was transmitted from Antallos, annotations done by a MIIO analyst. "This looks like early Terra. What do you people make of this?"

"Primus, our analysts are still working on that. At first, we discounted the images as part of an elaborate disinformation campaign, but this image appears to have been taken by a personal device. We cannot be certain until we know more."

"Hmm…" the Primus thought for a moment, "Send out some feelers on Antallos. See if we can get a more complete picture of the world."

"Already done, sir."

The Primus proceeded further in the documents "Ah, it seems that the Combine is offering the ISA a minor 'mech parts factory."

"That is correct, Primus. It is for light 'mech chassis and internal structures. We have some reports that the ISA is feeling out offers to the Federated Suns and the Outworlds Alliance. They seem to be interested in fusion reactors and weapons technology."

"I don't like the idea of yet another faction seeking weapons of warfare." The Primus nodded sagely, "I recall some mention that the factory in question was closed due to violence. I do hope that there was no sabotage to the more delicate machinery. It would be such a blow to their relations."

Jarlath took the blunt hint. He had already made arrangements for such an operation, but also recognized that the Primus was less delicate in such matters than he preferred.

"Two more things: Send a message to Precentor Antallos. Inform him we are upgrading his station to Class A."

Precentor ROM made a mental note. He had a few prime candidates of who would be optimally deployed to Antallos. He wanted to send Precentor Mulligan Fox, but he was recently transferred out of ROM and into Precentor Atreus' personal staff. He made another note to investigate that transfer.

"Second?" Jarlath asked.

"Send a message to this Third Earth. Ask them if they would allow us to take control of their HPG station, politely of course. It would allow them to properly interface with the rest of the network."

Jarlath had some serious reservations about that, and still had to investigate a few leads before entertaining such a command. He attempted to forestall his superior.

"Primus, if I may be blunt, it would require substantial investment to interface their node with the rest of the HPG network. If they are out of the fifty-lightyear radius of normal HPG communications, we would need to construct at least one new station to serve this Periphery world. Also, what if there are more worlds under their care? We would run the risk of trying to seize a network already in place."

"Star League colony or not, we need to bring them back into the fold." The Primus stated with finality, "It will be worth the expense. Dismissed." Tiepolo watched his Precentor ROM retreat from his vision and from the greenhouse. He allowed himself a few moments of quiet contemplation before he returned to his duties. He wanted to know what Tojo Jarlath was hiding from him.

New Samarkand Metals Regional Headquarters

Chirala

Chirala System, Draconis Combine Space

10 January 3022

Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita drank deeply of the offered tea. He was officially overseeing the packaging of the promised 'mech factory to the ISA and its loading onto the DropShips. Across from him sat his host Chandrasekhar Kurita, perusing the necessary paperwork.

"I like this blend," Ulysses noted, "but I cannot recall having partaken of it before."

"I procured this blend from the recent ISA trade mission on Antallos." Chandrasekhar replied as he partook of sip himself. The twenty-seven-year-old businessman was unlike many other members of their extended family. He had quite a keen business sense, not the traditional instincts of a warrior. There were rumors that the Coordinator was getting fed up with the antics of 'Uncle Chandy' and was prepared to exile him from court, "I felt the purchase would help me in some manner. I'm not quite so sure now."

Ulysses nodded. It was a fairly bland blend, but he had already committed to finishing the cup. He did so and deigned to ask for a refill.

"How much longer do you think the loading will take?" he asked.

"Another week or so." Chandrasekhar replied, "We wish to maximize the packing, as well and ensure that your 'mech is available to walk right off the DropShips on Antallos."

"Excellent." Ulysses leaned in slightly, "I presume you will be accompanying us to oversee the business finery of this deal?"

"Of course, cousin. I wish to meet these ISA types myself."

"The journey will be a long one. Four jumps before we reach Antallos. A month's travel to our destination."

"Plenty of time to learn more about them."

Warlord Meeting Room

Imperial Palace, Luthien

Luthien System, Draconis Combine Space

14 January 3022

Warlord Grieg Samsonov paced about the room as Warlord Kester Hsuin Chi sat, Samsonov's face contorted in anger.

"This is unacceptable!" Samsonov railed, "Antallos borders the Galedon District! I have forces on New Samarkand!"

"The Coordinator has heard your complaints, Warlord." Came Chi's measured reply, "I even apologized for the breech of etiquette my actions in pursuing Redjack Ryan caused." He was far more composed than his nominal equal. Samsonov was only recently promoted to his current position as Warlord of the Galedon District a scant three years ago.

"I will take this battle to them myself!" Samsonov continued, barely registering Chi's protests, "I can bring forces to bear on these ISA dogs and take them to heel within a week!" In his head swam dreams of taking the hidden secrets of the ISA and using them to further his own power.

Chi glared at him, "Compose yourself, Warlord! Listen to your words! Dare you defy the Coordinator so openly, in his palace? He would have your head for the attempt!"

Samsonov spat on the floor, stopped in front of Chi, and sat before him, "Has he lost his edge?" his voice was hushed, "Have his teeth worn away? We are in a prime position to take that world and add it to the glorious Combine!"

Chi shook his head, "There is a time and place for such things, Grieg, but now is not that time. I shall remind you: When we first became aware of the Independent Systems Alliance, do you recall what they were doing? They were fighting, quite successfully, against the forces of Redjack Ryan. This scum sacked worlds across the Combine in his vain search for glory and lostech. What did he get for his troubles? One of the most complete deaths in the history of the Inner Sphere. The ISA then proceeded to exterminate the rest of the scum and villains that pursued thereafter and with that gained the attention of the entirety of the Inner Sphere. Now, you would propose to attack them, to take from them a world they liberated and by all accounts are transforming away from a festering hole of humanity?"

"Of course! Whatever they have done, we can do! I am a Warlord, and I will show them the proper might of the Dragon!" Samsonov exclaimed.

"Then you would fail." Chi's voice transformed to steel, "Do you know who leads their forces on Antallos?"

Samsonov paused, "Bashar Thomas Serov." He was curious at what Chi was getting at.

"His immediate second?"

"General Don Davis."

"His third?"

"Tony Dansel." It made sense to Samsonov for their best MechWarrior to be a leader among men.

Chi stared incredulously at Samsonov, "NO, you fool!" his booming voice nearly caught the attention of some wandering attendants, "KURITA! Tai-sa Chou Kurita! He is third in command among the ISA! You would attack a member of the Dragon's family, even one long separated!? One whom our beloved Coordinator has invited for a personal audience? KNOW YOUR PLACE!"

Kester Hsuin Chi looked ready to strike his equal but refrained from such action. There were limits to be recognized. Samsonov was stunned into temporary silence, and Chi rallied to give his nominal equal no chance to defend his actions.

"They are loved by the common people for what they've done. Piracy is down over fifty percent in your district alone, although I suppose you never considered that. If we attack them, we will seem no better than any of the other barbaric houses. They would gladly croon to their own people about how we attacked such a valorous nation, to our own dishonor. Thus, the Coordinator, in his wisdom, is extending the velvet glove of friendship and peaceful coexistence with this Periphery power. We offer our aid, and we gain access to their lostech. Eventually, they will see the benefits of joining the Combine of their own volition and will do so willingly. We in turn will accept them with open arms." He paused and drilled his eyes into the skull of Samsonov, "Do. You. Understand?"

"Yes, Warlord Chi." Samsonov gave the outward appearance of a humbled man but in his mind, he had consigned the ISA to the same level as mercenaries. They had insulted him and must be laughing for what they though his foolishness. He would return the favor. Not yet, that would be far too soon, but their time would come.

75 Kilometers Northwest of Port Kirin

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

17 January 3022/862 AS/2007

Remus Lupin felt for the poor infantry. He was safe and comfortable in the cockpit of Bob's vintage Carbine IndustrialMech while the engineers and other workers were out in the sands placing markers and taking measurements.

They were salvaging off an ancient battlefield, one with kilotons of 'mechs in various states of disrepair: from legs blown off completely to at least two instances of a fusion reactor cascade event. For some reason the ISA infantry referred to such instances as a 'stackpole.' He did not yet have the chance to ask of the source of that particular colloquialism.

The foreman waved at Remus and he set his 'mech into motion, moving to the line drawn in the sand and lowering the lifting arms. The figures below scrambled about, setting clamps to the vague shape of the BattleMech still buried under the sand.

Another signal, the foreman repeated the order over the radio for the record, and Remus began to lift the 'mech from its battlefield burial site. His 'mech groaned under the weight, the internal combustion engine roared in appreciation of the challenge. For a moment, the balance between forces was held, but the works of man proved superior to nature here.

"Oh, Great Father…" Remus whispered in awe as a shape began to emerge. A quick glance showed that his radio was not transmitting. The ISA had the remarkable capability to eavesdrop on other communications while keeping theirs hidden.

The blocky shape of the humanoid 'mech was revealed by the shifting sands to be a venerable Orion BattleMech. He lifted the 'mech clear of the dunes, the gentle breeze erased the weight of ages.

His eyes caught sight of something through the shattered remains of the cockpit. He slammed the emergency shutdown button of his mech, cutting the engine and raising the ire of his foreman.

"Remus, what happened!?" The voice of Joseph Riggs came from his radio as Remus punched the transmitter.

"There's a body in the 'mech." He replied as the sand was wiped away, revealing to his eyes the Star of Cameron emblazoned on the chest of the Orion.

Sergeant Ryan Opel stood on the chest of the BattleMech, careful to sidestep the Star in respect, as an engineer and Lupin pried open the shattered cockpit. He had been summoned when the report of a body came in and now, he stood back while access was gained. Remus and Riggs worked in silence as they found the latches to pop open the damaged section of the 'mech and worked quickly to do so.

A slosh of sand fell out and Sergeant Opel gestured a medic forward while a Marine chaplain attached to his unit waited for confirmation. The medic instructed the two civilian contractors to shovel out the sand with gloved hands and a small trowel.

The desiccated remains of the MechWarrior emerged from beneath the sands. The medic nodded to the chaplain and from behind the Sergeant last rites were read aloud.

Remus shook in apprehension, his eyes cast towards the symbol of the Star League that shone at him like a beacon. Thoughts of the Great Father, Alexander Kerensky, and his favored 'mech made him feel slightly sacrilegious at his actions, but logic countered that this was an old battlefield. He and Riggs, under the direction of the medic, moved the body from the cockpit to a waiting stretcher. He considered the horror of dying where no one would ever know.

No, he thought, it wasn't a bad thing. It was their duty.

He, Riggs, the medic and the Sergeant each took a corner of the stretcher. They carefully made their way down the length of the 'mech to the legs where they could better dismount. A ground car waited for them there, clearly emblazoned with the red cross that universally indicated a medical vehicle.

As they came down, Remus noticed that all work in the area had come to a stop and a small procession was lined on both sides with military and civilians who showed their respect to the unknown warrior.

He helped load the body into the waiting ground car and was about to return to work when the foreman tapped him on the shoulder.

"Go with them, Remus." Riggs said somberly, "They've a couple questions for you. I'll handle it until you get back."

Remus nodded and got into the vehicle. As they drove back to the ISA outpost, Remus watched as the medic began processing the body. They removed sand and debris, speaking into one of those lostech devices as they did so. Once they asked him to help move the body so they could get underneath it, but soon the ride was over, and Remus was taken to see one of the ISA overseers. He was asked a battery of mundane questions, nothing out of the ordinary. At the end, he was asked if he had his own questions. He did.

"What's going to happen with the body?" He asked of the Lieutenant in charge.

"ISA policy is in cases where we do recover a body, we attempt to return it to the nation they represented." They replied, understanding the weight of the question, "Given the previous history of the Combine's actions on this world, we've returned at least five soldiers to their care in the last couple months. For the unknown soldier you helped recover, the situation is less clear. The Terran Hegemony no longer exists, and ComStar isn't their true successor state. We don't have an ID on them yet, and likely never will, so the option of returning them to their family or homeworld is closed off to us." The Lieutenant paused to gather their breath, "Therefore, once all other options are exhausted, we treat them as one of our own. Full honors and all."

Remus was at a loss. That the ISA would go through such lengths for a soldier was above and beyond the call. Everything that he knew, an unknown body would be buried on the planet unless special arrangements were made. For these people to actively try to return a warrior…

His personal and professional opinion of this ISA… improved.

Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters

Low Earth Orbit

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

25 January 862 AS/2007

General David Mathews looked over the latest reports from Antallos, Earth, and now the Moon. While reading, he reflected upon the last couple of years. It had become a much more normal routine, his incredible daily commute from Earth to orbit quickly settled into normalcy. The current iteration of the Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters had been completed, it now was the defense station both Earth and the ISA wanted it to be. The orbital defense network was finally near completion, as were the orbital clean-up efforts. New civilian satellites were being launched in a cleaner orbital environment than Earth had ever had since the beginning of the space race. International fighter squadrons had been assigned to the station, their pilots all veterans of the Invasion War. As the station expanded, too did their responsibilities. Coordinating the ever-increasingly crowded orbital and JumpShip traffic fell into their purview for the time being.

He was told that the new Lunar Defense Station/Colony would take over those responsibilities as soon as they were able, but that was a ways off. Base Luna and its accompanying colony were still well under construction, with DropShips, transports, and drones constantly moving to and from Earth and the Asteroid Belt to provide the facility with the appropriate resources for its construction. He figured that if there were any problems, they would simply come to him for assistance.

Antallos was a source of constant news, with it being the ISA's point of contact with the greater galaxy. Trade goods from Earth and Cradle were recently introduced and various groups around the Inner Sphere were quite interested in what they had to offer. Industrial and commercial concerns from the ISA's two worlds were already working on expanding into Antallos to inject much-needed capacity and capital into the planet. The military had already begun its work expanding the initial orbital defense network on the old trade world, relying on secrecy and advanced stealth technology to evade the notice of the close scrutiny of the powers of the rest of the galaxy.

He touched the report on Earth on his tablet. Earth was being brought up to spec quickly. The recent discoveries of the New Dallas Memory Core were being integrated with the already impressive technological and scientific data that the ISA provided. Industries all over Earth were being revolutionized, employment planet-wide was the highest it had ever been. Sweeping declarations from the nascent CSN and aid packages from the ISA were making their effects known all over the world. Countries that initially refused to join the CSN and fall under the umbrella of the ISA had begun to flock to gain the benefits of the partnership. Even the more belligerent nations of the world were forced to see the advantages. The most notable event in recent memory was the recent military coup in North Korea. Kim Jong-il was overthrown after the successful combat actions on Antallos. For the first time in decades, the Thirty-Eighth Parallel was open, and the ISA were able to see the full extent of the rule of that regime. It probably helped that the current military leadership in North Korea was reminded of the fact that they could be struck by the extensive orbital defense network if they decided to make any hostile actions against them. Talks were already underway to see about the reunification of Korea under the careful watch of the CSN and the ISA.

Mathews smiled a moment before he continued into the civilian news realm. All the major news networks and publications had just recently expanded their coverage into Cradle and Antallos with civilian JumpShip traffic increased thanks to many of the military responsibilities taken up by the ISA's Merchant Marine. Most interesting of the current news stories were the developments in the environmental and energy sectors. Many of the old juggernauts of the old energy corporations were seeing increased regulations imposed by the ISA and the expanding clean energy sector eat significantly into their market share. Environmentalists were impressed by the new regulations and some groups even invested in some of the heaviest hitters in the clean energy game. Companies like Tesla, GE Energy, Siemens, and NextEra Energy took to the open-source fusion power schematics to great aplomb, expanding their reach across the globe and even displacing the older companies in some regions.

Captain Tyra Croft, his ISA liaison, interrupted his review as she entered his office. She gave him a crisp salute.

"General." She greeted.

"Captain." He motioned for her to sit, "What do have for me today?"

"Well, General," she began, "I wanted to be the first to inform you of the results of the first test run of Earth's first space elevator."

"That was quick." He mused, "They finished initial construction, what, two weeks ago?"

"Correct, sir." She transmitted a signal to his tablet, "First run was a success. Cargo capacity is fairly meager right now, but that should increase over the coming months as they finish construction."

He reviewed the report, "A civilian company conducted the first test? SpaceX?"

"Yes, sir. They provided a majority of the funding for the project, so they wanted to test it themselves. This will be the first of many, General. Companies and governments around the world are already scrambling to begin construction of their own. It helps when we provided the methods to build them free of charge."

"Who's next?" he asked.

"Your government, the United States, is beginning construction on Cape Canaveral. Councilor Ryan approved the bill funding its construction yesterday. The European Union is right behind, approving finding of the construction today on their facility in Kourou."

"Councilor Ryan…" Mathews mused with a chuckle, "What the hell should I call him these days? President or Councilor?"

"I believe that rests with the Councilor, sir. It's a unique situation we in the ISA haven't faced in decades. We don't have a precedent set for the head of a nation-state being elected to the position of Councilor in our history, so we'll leave it to the politicians to iron that out."

"Anything else?"

"There is a matter from Supreme Bashar Merlow about the scheduled deployment of more ships."

"How many of these ships do you have in mothballs?"

"Quite a few." Croft checked her tablet, "We're scheduled to receive… a Corrino-class Dreadnaught and three Harkonnen-class cruisers with command staff to match. After they're considered combat capable, we're set to receive twelve Sadaukar-class destroyers which the Basharate wants commanded by native Earth forces. It's enough to have a Strike Group."

Mathews whistled, "That's some combat capability. When are they set to arrive?"

"Next month."

"Something to look forward to, then."

ComStar Central Headquarters

Hilton Head Complex, Terra

Sol System, ComStar Space

1 February 3022

Precentor Dieron Myndo Waterly and Precentor Atreus Demona Aziz met in one of the Hilton Head's many greenhouse gardens. Waterly was recently released from her 'house arrest' imposed by Primus Julian Tiepolo since her fiery outburst during the last meeting of the First Circuit. Waterly advocated the use of the ComGuard against the upstart ISA in order to bring them to heel and seize the lostech they possessed. She expected excommunication but was fortunate to receive a much lighter sentence. Aziz could not support her friend public in her endeavor for fear of similar reprisal, but she held the same views as Waterly when it came to the dissemination of the Word of Blake and bringing about enlightenment to the Inner Sphere.

"How are you?" Aziz asked her friend, concerned for her treatment while under house arrest.

"Fine." Was Waterly's short reply, "It is over now. The Primus thinks I have reflected on my words and will follow his will."

"You should have held your tongue. You know what the Primus thinks of your ideas."

Waterly scoffed, "'Too extreme, it will upset the balance of power, it is not the vision of the Blessed Blake.'" She spat on the ground before her, "We cannot bring about the Vision of Blake without breaking a few eggs."

"I understand," Aziz soothed, "but a majority on the First Circuit do not. We must resort to more covert means to bring Blake's Vision to light."

"What have you done on that front?" Waterly asked.

"The analysis from Precentor Fox have been fruitful."

"Wait, you believe that unstable ROM lackey, and you made him a Precentor?" Waterly was in disbelief.

"I did, yes. He reports straight to me now, and his insights into the ISA have been illuminating." Aziz responded with satisfaction.

"Let me see."

Aziz handed across a folder with a condensed report of what Precentor Mulligan Fox was able to assemble with all of the information available from Antallos. Waterly's eyes widened.

"Is even half of this true?" Waterly asked in disbelief.

"I cannot verify the veracity of his claims on all subjects, but most of this report is plausible. The most worrying item is their FTL communications. They do not use our HPG network, yet they seem to be able communicate with their 'Motherlode' with great efficiency."

"That could simply be efficiency of the ISA command circuit, or perhaps proximity to Antallos." Waterly's eyes wandered further through the papers, "What is this I see?" she turned to face the paper towards Aziz.

"Some sort of weapons countermeasure from what we were able to determine. A barrier of some kind is able to absorb weapons damage in combat."

"Impossible…" Waterly breathed, "A Periphery backwater has access to such technology?"

"MIIO has taken great interest in this as well. This still from a video captured by one of their aerospace fighters during the battle on Antallos."

Waterly delved deeper, "Suspicions of WarShips? Surely, this is just fantasy."

"Precentor Fox does pose a point that their DropShips arrived in system with no JumpShips attached. That kind of action suggests either the DropShips have KF drives aboard, which seems impossible, or they have WarShips that can escape detection."

"How can you hide a WarShip, especially among the arrival of three different military forces arriving in quick succession all with their own sensors? It has to be their DropShips."

"I would agree except for the presence of orbital weapons fire during the battle. All of their DropShips were grounded during the course of battle." Aziz leaned back on her bench, allowing her friend to read even further.

"…This is all extremely distressing, Demona."

"That is why I brought it to you. I have resources in the Free Worlds League, but you are Precentor Dieron. You have access to resources in the Combine, much closer to Antallos than I."

"The best resources we have for this are ROM, and Jarlath is firmly in the Primus' pocket."

Aziz had another idea, "What about the Explorer Corps? You have some supporters there, and they would be more than willing to listen to you if you helped fund some of their exploration efforts."

Waterly pondered this a moment, "That is not a bad idea. I'll see about getting our Spinward Operations Area some additional resources. Let's see if we can find 'Motherlode' and maybe outmaneuver the Primus…"

MIIO Headquarters

Avalon City, New Avalon

New Avalon System, Federated Suns Space

3 February 3022

"So, you've completed the research project I assigned you?" Head of the Federated Suns Ministry of Information, Intelligence, and Operations Quintus Allard asked one of his newest recruits.

"Yes, sir." Kym Sorenson replied. She was young, intelligent, beautiful, and from nobility. In short, she was a near perfect recruit for the MIIO, full of promise and youthful enthusiasm. The project assigned to her was ostensibly her 'final project' and certainly not an analysis of a potential enemy. It would not do to have people, especially political enemies, thinking that he was taking rumors and hearsay seriously.

"How did you find it?" He asked the young recruit.

"It was fascinating, but not exactly what I was expecting when I signed up."

"Miss Sorenson, one must learn to deal with the unexpected at all times. I am glad you enjoyed the work. It won't always be the case."

"Of course, sir."

"Now, why don't you present your findings?"

"Yes, sir." She opened her backpack and retrieved a pair of thick binders and dropped them on Allard's desk with a heavy *thunk*. Each binder was stuffed with papers, amounting to an estimated five to seven centimeters each, "My report, sir. A full analysis of the political, technological, and military situation of early twenty-first century Terra."

"Good Lord!" Quintus exclaimed as he flipped open each binder and browsed the tables of contents.

"I'll admit that I may have gone a little overboard," Sorenson noted nervously, "but I did have almost five months in both the New Avalon Institute of Science and the Ministry's own archives. I thought it prudent to do as thorough a job as I could given the time constraint."

"Yes, yes. Well done." Allard reassured her. His mind searched for the names of analysts to examine this document. So much content, so little time, "Could you give me a summary of what is contained within?"

"Of, of course, sir." She relaxed a bit, her posture loosened in her seat, "Please bear in mind that most of the documents we have in the archives are second and third hand sources that often refer to older texts that we don't have. Some of them even show an obvious bias by the writers but reading between the lines I think I managed to get an accurate picture of the time period."

"In our business sources may not always be reliable," Allard observed, "please, continue."

"A thousand years ago, humanity was all confined to one planet. Fusion power was being pioneered and space travel was done by expending copious amounts of chemical fuel to toss ships on ballistic trajectories to other worlds. For much of the century prior, Terra was dominated by two rival power blocs instead of the five we have today." She looked wistful for a moment, "In some ways, this era was more a Golden Age than the Star League."

"How so, Miss Sorenson?"

"I know the general consensus is that the Star League was the pinnacle of human development, and in many ways it was, but the early twenty-first century was when humanity broke free from the shackles of a single world into the stars. It was a time of dizzying change. Technological development proceeded at a pace that is was unmatched even by the Star League. Every technology perfected by the League was pioneered during this period of history. Holographic imagers, neural computing, fusion power, KF drives, even the IndustrialMechs that would later evolve into the modern BattleMech. My research was as extensive as I could do and I don't think our archives of the time do more than hint at what it was truly like."

"What of the political situation?"

"Hard to say, sir. The early years of the twenty-first century were a time of major political upheaval. The Cold War ended with the Soviet Civil War that eventually drew in the Western Alliance. In twenty-fourteen, the Western Alliance emerged victorious and would be the dominant political power until James McKenna created the Terran Hegemony in twenty-three-fifteen. Until then, it was a democratic system, and the Western Alliance made democracy work, at least for a couple of centuries. Of course, the reason it worked was because it was still predominantly confined to a single world where modern communication lag and bottlenecks were non-existent. To note, it worked for a world more populous than any world in the Inner Sphere today." Sorenson paused to allow her superior to absorb the information.

"Continue, please." Allard insisted after a few moments.

"In any case, the Western Alliance emerged victorious and became the single most powerful government humanity had seen to date. The next century was largely peaceful barring the need to incorporate the 'Third World,' the era's version of the Periphery powers, and raise them to the Western Alliance's standard of living."

"Militarily, what were their capabilities?"

"Absurd, if the archives are correct. The nations of the time fielded massive armies in relation to their population sizes. Each of the major nations of the Cold War could each field armies to rival any of the modern House militaries in terms of sheer numbers. Keep in mind, that was during peacetime. The Soviet Civil War alone saw internecine conflict between forces with millions of troops originally intended to be used against the Western Alliance." She shook her head, "That was before the Western Alliance threw in their millions of troops to restore order. At the end of it all, the Western Alliance had a military force that could have given Aleksandr Kerensky's Star League Defense Force trouble."

"Surely that is an exaggeration. Given the technological differences, the Star League would have no trouble."

"I wish it were, sir. Their equipment was primitive by Star League or even modern standards, but they weren't too far behind either. In their time, it was artillery that was king of the battlefield. From what I've read their artillery was far more accurate than any artillery since, and the general principles of artillery haven't changed that much in the intervening centuries." She paused a moment for a thought, "Of course, it helped that they were confined to one planet and didn't have to deal with things like variant surface gravity and planetary rotational speed. The literature seems to indicate that you need to take those into account to get accurate artillery fire, and each unit carried around a small library of books just to deal with all the variables."

"Allow me to present a hypothetical scenario:" Allard said, "Suppose through some magical or natural phenomenon, early twenty-first century Terra was displaced in time to the present day. How much force would be needed to take it?"

"Take it?" Sorenson replied with skepticism, "Sir, I don't think that's possible. The armies of the time were composed of citizen soldiers. The civilian populations were loyal to their governments and willing to fight through amazing hardship. Even assuming you could defeat the regular militaries, no guarantee there short of stripping the entire Inner Sphere of all their military forces and the JumpShips and DropShips to move them, you would be presented with guerilla fighting on a planetary scale. I'm sorry, but it would be completely impractical to conquer any such world. You could try with orbital bombardment, but we don't have anything that could do that short of breaking out the nuclear weapon stockpiles. Honestly, I don't think that would work either."

"Explain."

"The Western Alliance would have nuclear weapons too, and a lot more of them. During the height of the Cold War, there were enough nuclear weapons on Terra to render any ten worlds inhospitable, with the missiles to match. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if my estimate is low. Luckily, they were never used, otherwise you and I wouldn't be speaking today."

"Well, then I'm glad that it's impossible for whole planets to time travel."

"Of course, sir." Sorenson replied with a laugh, "Still, it shows how far we've fallen when even a 'primitive' Terra can outgun a Successor State."

"Well done." Allard congratulated the young recruit. Now, if his little fact-finding mission he had dispatched had found nothing he could go back to living in a relatively sane universe that didn't have time travelling planets in them. He stared a moment at Sorenson, "Miss Sorenson, how would you like an assignment on Antallos? This ISA have a penchant for using obscure historical references and I'm sure the ambassadorial staff could use an analyst of your caliber."

Bridge, FSJS Leonardo da Vinci

Unknown Star Orbit

Unknown System, Periphery Space

"How is any of this at all possible!?" Donna Madigan, navigator of the da Vinci, exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" asked William Duvall, the JumpShip's captain.

"I'll tell you what's wrong," she snarled, "the damn stars aren't where they're supposed to be!"

"Well, the old Star League survey charts we're using are centuries old…" Duvall began.

"By this much? None of the stars in the direction we want to go match up to the charts at all. Not their positions, their, spectrographic signatures, nothing!"

"Maybe the Star League faked the original survey data to hide something?" Duvall suggested. He recalled his orders for this mission, the very secret orders that he couldn't speak to his crew unless absolutely necessary. When the head of MIIO handed you orders, you followed them to the letter.

"Yeah, that crossed my mind, but the actual stars I'm looking at look like fakes, not the survey data."

"How so?"

"I'm getting a match for them, alright, but they're a match for stars around Terra." Madigan shook her head, "The thing is, we didn't misjump into the center of the Inner Sphere because I can still see the star we're at is nowhere near there!"

"Huh." Duvall was floored. When he was briefed for this assignment neither he nor the man who briefed him expected to find something like this, but his instructions did cover such a find and were very explicit, "Alright, Donna, start plotting more jumps, say three or four. I want to do a survey of the cluster and see how much of it matches the core of the Inner Sphere. Just one thing."

"Yes?"

"Avoid Terra, at least this cluster's version of it, and any other potentially inhabited systems. Once that's done, we're going home."

Spinward Operations Headquarters

Baliggora

Baliggora System, Outwards Alliance Space

5 February 3022

"Damnit." Precentor Margaret Grey cursed to herself as she read another negative report. The First Circuit back on Terra had been slowly turning up the pressure to find this 'Motherlode' or 'Third Earth' or whoever these new Periphery upstarts were. Unfortunately, she had only so many JumpShips that could only recharge their KF drives so fast, even using their fusion reactors fed by their expansive fuel tanks. Grey had emphasized this to the First Circuit. She had yet to hear back from them about it.

The current report on the screen before her was on the last former Outworlds Alliance planet on a checklist. The ravages of the Succession Wars had shrunk the Alliance, forcing them to pull back and abandon their outer Periphery holdings in order to stave off their neighbors. This particular planet was the last of those holdings to be surveyed. It had turned out to be inhabited by people who regressed to barely steam-age levels of technology. It certainly was not 'Motherlode.' The theory that the supposed home world of the ISA was an ex-Alliance world would have to be thrown in the bin. It also meant that Grey needed to formulate a new search strategy.

"Precentor?" Grey's secretary called, interrupting her thoughts, "We've just received word from Precentor Dieron's office about the transferal of JumpShips from other Explorer Corps areas. The Far Horizon, Frontiersman, and the Outbound Light have been ordered to our command with more following when more JumpShips check in. They should be arriving in eight months."

"Thank you, Adams." Grey acknowledged, "We're going to have to expand our logistical capacity. Start putting together a preliminary list of resources we'll need. I want 'bare minimum' to 'operationally optimal.'"

"Yes, Precentor."

Grey returned to her thoughts as Adams retreated from her sight. The old Alliance territories were a bust. It was time to expand her search pattern. There was the Moore Nebula with its plenty of hiding spots. The Nantucket sector had little more than a cursory survey done. The Grantville Cluster…

The Grantville Cluster had been thoroughly surveyed by the Explorer Corps just sixty years prior and they found nothing of significance. The head of Spinward Operations at the time had been convinced there was a hidden Star League facility there but found nothing. No habitable worlds, no results of note. She deemed it better to look elsewhere.

Cerun Military Academy

Cradle

Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

7 February 862 AS/2007/3022

"Any questions?" Colonel Antoine Sanders asked of the assembled officers in the lecture hall. The silence was his answer, "Alright, you're dismissed. I want that paper on Inner Sphere unit tactics in next week." The lecture hall emptied out, the ISA officers in his class filtering out to their next classes.

Sanders was getting used to his new post as a military instructor. After the Battle of Earth, he and his unit were held for questioning by the Earth forces for a few months. Their interrogations were thorough but non-invasive. He expected to be executed as an example, but that day never came. After the interrogation period, he was reunited with his unit and his family. He knew in any other nation in the Inner Sphere, he would have been killed and his family left destitute. Instead, they were all offered positions in the recently completed military academy on the world of 'Cradle.' How could he refuse? These people spared his life, the lives of his people, and offered him a job. It was a far cry from the battlefields of the Inner Sphere, and even the crowded stockades he was held in on Earth.

He recognized a people forged from conflict and necessity. The buildings of Cradle were elegant, utilitarian, and extremely hardened. The extensive orbital and system defense network he was aware of detailed lessons of past conflicts. Even the layout of the streets denoted areas of tactical importance that defenders could hold from near indefinitely. His years of mercenary work admired the extent of preparedness this planet displayed.

Sanders sat at his desk and looked over the previous assignments of his students. These ISA officers were well versed in battlefield operations, that much was apparent, but many of them still had a hard time grasping the tactical importance of 'mechs in combat. He was also learning from them how they fought their previous wars. 'Combined Arms' was the term bandied about the campus. Their forces were interlinked, interdependent, and each branch worked in harmony with the other to achieve their goals. Flexibility from the tactical to strategic level was emphasized and he was adapting his new curriculum accordingly. Even if there was an independent tactical unit on their battlefield, they had the ability to call for support at any time.

"Having fun, Colonel?" asked a voice at the door. Sanders thought were interrupted by Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow. Sanders bolted out of his seat and gave the man a salute. Merlow grinned, "At ease, Colonel." Merlow entered the room and sat at one of the empty desks, "How goes your new teaching career?"

Sanders sat back down, "It goes, sir. Your officers are sharp."

"I would hope so. We try to recruit the best."

"I have a question for you, Bashar." Sanders flicked on the room's holographic projector, revealing a crisp image of an Atlas BattleMech, "In all your history, your people have never encountered BattleMechs?"

"No. We toyed with the idea for a bit but determined that our existing vehicles filled the roles for the 'mech just fine."

"Then why are you constructing your own now?" Sanders asked.

Merlow cocked an eyebrow, "I'm sorry, Colonel?"

"Why are you constructing your own BattleMechs if your vehicles fill those roles?" Sanders persisted.

"Heh." Merlow rose from the desk and approached Sanders, "Simply put, shock and awe."

"How so?"

Merlow issued a mental command and shut the lecture hall's doors, "Colonel, the Inner Sphere revolves around 'mech combat, and I wrong in that assessment?"

"No."

"Then, it must be impressed upon those who wish us harm that we are willing to meet them in said combat." Merlow stood before Sanders, "There was a large piece of information that we were lacking before the Battle of Earth: the potential flexibility of a 'mech force. We rely on transports to quickly deploy our forces to the battlefield, but even they are exposed during the disembarkation process. BattleMechs are like the paratroopers of old, potentially dropping straight from the DropShip into a battlefield."

"I see." Sanders backed his chair up a hair, "Still, the old adage 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it' still applies. Why incorporate a brand-new force into your military?"

Merlow smiled, "That's your job, Colonel. Show us the merits of these beasts in combat." He turned to exit the room, "Oh, be sure to keep your skills sharp. We're going to want to test your lessons soon enough."

"Sir." Sanders watched as the Supreme Bashar left his lecture hall. 'Skills sharp', he thought to himself, I'm getting back in the harness soon…

His thoughts were again interrupted, this time by a student. In rushed a young lieutenant, out of breath from having run across campus.

"I-I'm sorry, Colonel!" they barely coughed out, "I got held up for your office hours, and your door was locked-"

Sanders put up his hand to interrupt them, "Not a problem, Lieutenant. Now, what was bothering you?"

"See, this part on 'mech versus 'mech combat. I was confused…"

DropShip ISV Brer Rabbit

Low Sian Orbit

Sian System, Capellan Confederation Space

9 February 2007/862 AS/3022

David Jackson shook awake with the sounds of rockets roaring in his skull. He was still tipsy from the party last night. This carried over as he promptly fell from his bunk to the carpet below. Groggily, he pulled himself back up and found himself face to glass with a bottle of water and ibuprofen.

He realized that the rockets were external, not internal, and they must have taken off already. A glance at the clock indicated that he had somehow managed to sleep through liftoff some three hours ago. He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, clumsily extracted a couple of pills, and downed that with a hearty gulp of water to help fight the building hangover.

The John Deere representative pulled on some clothes, trying to keep some semblance of cohesion to his person before he stepped out of his room. Now that they were off-world, his current workload decreased dramatically as they headed for their JumpShip. He proceeded to the ship's mess hall and dropped the empty bottle with the other dirty dishes before grabbing a plate and getting himself some leftover breakfast.

Looking around, he saw Sam Fisher, the officer in charge of their ground operations sitting by himself. Jackson invited himself to sit across from the CIA man.

"Morning." Jackson grumbled.

"Afternoon." Fisher corrected, "Sleep well?"

"I'll tell you when I wake up." Juice from a fruit he had never heard of before had made its way into his glass. He chugged it down. The shock of flavor snapped to the back of his head, his forehead stopping just short of the table in front of him.

"Hell of a kick, isn't it?" Fisher smirked smugly, "Perfect for curing a hangover."

"I'll let you know after it stops killing me."

Fisher laughed, "Well, just be glad you're alive, eh?" Fisher refilled Jackson's glass, "We're meeting up with the Spirit of the Raven and a passenger DropShip. They're paying us to take them closer to the Free Worlds League, so lockdown on the JumpShip is in effect."

Jackson groaned, "Keep my stuff in my quarters, don't go blabbing about Earth, all non-IS tech stays under wraps, and we don't get ArtGrav." He slowly blinked, "Did you get my memo yesterday?"

"Nope. Haven't since yesterday afternoon. Anything important?"

Jackson took a much lighter sip of the juice, "You didn't check your mail this morning? I thought you didn't party at all?"

"Oh, God no." Fisher laughed, "Last night was letting loose and partying on. I can't work twenty-four-seven, David. Even I have to relax."

"That… doesn't seem like you."

"We have three years, Mister Jackson. Three years to get to know one another. I'm sure we'll be well acquainted by the time we get back home."

Port Kirin Administration Building

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

11 February 2007/862 AS/3022

Bashar Superior Thomas Serov examined the gathered people for this meeting. General Don Davis, his head of ground forces on Antallos and provisional military governor. Colonel Chou Kurita, Davis' second in command and the man responsible for cleaning up the bureaucratic mess that existed directly after the ISA took control of Port Kirin. Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda, head of the local Systems Security Service office and one of the finest intelligence officers he had ever seen. Finally, Ambassador Charles Smith, the one who brokered the deal to lease a factory from the Draconis Combine and send their first delegation to an ISA world. The meeting today was an important one as in a matter of days, the Combine delegation would make planetfall and then be carted to Cradle under the watchful eye of one of their newly recommissioned stealth cruisers. It was their last stealth cruiser, as only four were made specifically for long-range infiltration and reconnaissance missions. There was never a thought that perhaps in their next universal destination they would need to obscure their naval power so actively.

"Anyone like some coffee or tea before we begin?" Serov asked those assembled. Maeda and Kurita each opted for a cup of green tea from the caddy beside the table. Davis poured himself a mug of black coffee. Smith opted for his usual earl grey. Serov himself dumped a healthy dose of cream and sugar into his coffee and sat himself back at the table, "So, we all know what's happening in a few days. The Combine delegation will be landing and we've gotta be ready for them. Smith, I understand your modified Union arrived yesterday along with its accompanying JumpShip. You manage to take a look at both to see if they're up to snuff?"

"Yes, Bashar." The Brit replied, "The modifications made on Earth are quite adequate. Luxurious, extravagant, fit for a diplomatic mission. The high-quality holo-imagers are going to blow them away." Smith paused a moment as he took a drink, "I'm curious, are you going to authorize the use of ArtGrav during transit?"

"I don't see why not. Let them wonder how their feet are staying glued to the floor." Serov took a sip of his sweet coffee.

"I must object, sir." Maeda said with conviction, "I see no reason to provoke the Combine with more suspicion. They'll want to know how we do it."

"Eh, a minor concern Captain. We've already ruffled the feathers of the Inner Sphere with our military force. I say we let them wonder."

"Also," Maeda took an aggressive sip of tea. "with the arrival of the DropShip came the technical groups from Europe, the United States, Russia, China, and Japan: BMW, Boeing, Sukhoi, Qinghai Huading, and Mitsubishi respectively. They have their equipment and are ready to build that factory."

"Colonel, you have a site for that factory?" Serov asked Kurita.

"Grounds are ready, buildings are prepared." Kurita nodded, "We have five-hundred-thousand square meters, with the potential to expand according to the factory's needs. Housing for our companies has already been arranged, and we're working on where to put the Combine's military contingent that's not too close to the factory."

"Good to hear. I love drone construction. When it comes to the military folks, I want to keep a good eye on them. Close enough to our base should suffice in case they get squirrelly." Serov noted with a smirk. He turned to Davis, "General, we recently had the Buron Cav rotate back to Earth for some R 'n R. Will that be a problem for ongoing operations?"

"Not in the slightest." Davis leaned back in his chair, "They've done a fine job training the Foreign Legion and the replacements from Earth. Those newcomers are going out for their first patrols deeper into the free zones. I want to probe the other city-states, see if they're in any state to fight after the beating we gave them a few months back."

"Good plan. It'd be nice not to look over our shoulders to see if their marauders are ever present. Smith, you have proposals on the books when we're able to bring them to the table?"

"Of course. I'm a professional, Serov."

"Fantastic, Ambassador. I apologize, but I believe your part in this particular meeting is done." Serov nodded to Smith.

"I understand. Military matters." Smith stood, bowed to the table, and left the room.

"Bashar, the matter of all of the foreign intelligence assets on the planet is concerning." Maeda emphasized, "I don't like having so many eyes on us here. Alphabet soup is only tasty when there's one flavor, sir."

"I understand, Captain," Serov sighed, "and I've already told Marcus about it. We can only watch them as closely as possible and make sure they're not doing or saying anything too silly to their superiors. Oh, good work on tapping the HPG by the way."

"That has been a boon of information," Davis agreed, "The postman thinks the letters are all safe, but on the contrary…"

"Agreed," noted Kurita, "but even we recognize that we can't see all the nuance that passes through the post."

"Oh, on that note, ComStar has sent us a 'request' to administer our HPG stations." Maeda chuckled, "We said we'd pass along word back to Earth and Cradle and we would hear back in about six weeks. Precentor Long seemed satisfied with the answer. He also noted that there would be some disruptions in local HPG communications when the facility is upgraded in the next few months."

"They're upgrading it to a Class-A?" Serov asked, "Oh, we must have really ruffled some feathers."

"That's the least of it." Kurita handed the Bashar a folder, "We anticipate an increase in ROM presence and even a small ComGuard garrison. Class A Stations are no joke, sir."

"More players to keep an eye on." Davis rubbed his temple, "Kinda messy, wouldn't you say?"

"It's going to get messier, I can assure you." Maeda took another sip of tea, "If we have the eyes of the entire Inner Sphere upon us, it only makes sense that WolfNet already has an agent on the ground. We've heard no word through the HPG tap or any local traffic, but I can assure you they're out there."

"They're supposed to be ghosts, according to the sourcebooks. Wait, maybe with the HPG Station being upgraded to Class A, we could get the Dragoons out here…" Serov stroked his chin.

"How?" Davis asked, "Their mission is supposed to be examining the five houses for the Clans. How can an 'upstart Periphery state' garner their attention?"

"We have the 'lostech.'" Serov thought, "They would have heard of our exploits by now. I think we may be able to hire them and learn a bit about the Clans in the process…"

"We could get them training the Foreign Legion, perhaps doing some patrols in the free zones." Kurita suggested, "It would save them the beating that Grieg Samsonov might inflict upon them."

"I'd like to see a potential contract for the Dragoons in place." Serov said with finality, "See if we can woo them and save them some trouble." He thought on the Samsonov name, "Will this Samsonov be a problem with potential relations between us and the Combine?"

"Probably." Kurita replied, "When it does, we'll be ready. We may even be able to use the Dragoons against them."

"Is there anything else?" Serov asked.

"Well, we're receiving reports from Earth of potential colonization targets. The initial surveys done by your patrols combined with targeted surveys from our JumpShips have given us…"

Observation Lounge

Port Kirin Interstellar Port

14 February 3022/2007/862 AS

Every planet with any kind of regular DropShip traffic had its DropShip watchers, people who made it a hobby watching the coming and going of the huge spacecraft. Their reasons were varied. There were the children fascinated by the light, noise, and the wonder of far off worlds. There were the old ones, ex-travelers who for whatever reason no longer wandered the stars and came for the memories of better times. Then there were people who came for special occasions when something more than the usual freight came in or out.

Whatever their reasons, some of the busier spaceports set aside floorspace so that interested observers could watch out of the elements. Port Kirin had such a space, but it had long been neglected as an unnecessary luxury in the wake of the Star League's collapse and the Succession Wars. Sometimes, an Administrator would clean the place up for special occasions but never for its original purpose. In any case, they would inevitably let it lapse into neglect again.

Then the ISA come in, taken over, cleaned up the place, and opened it to the public. Any interested party could come in, be they noble, common, ex-slave, or mercenary soldier. The ISA didn't care. Quite the contrary, they enforced an egalitarian standard and didn't tolerate anyone forcing anyone else to leave due to their social status.

They also rented the space for gift shops. Some of these shops even made products made on Cradle and 'Earth,' although 'Motherlode' was still the more popular name despite it not being official in any way. Cradle's products were high quality consumer goods, lostech products sold at reasonable prices. Earth products tended to run the gamut of laughably primitive to absurdly cheap lostech knickknacks. Paradoxically, it was a strange combination of both in many cases.

The man known as Remus Lupin examined the small camera he had just purchased. It was expensive given his official income, but hardly bank breaking. At first glance it didn't look like much. The manufacturer, Kodak, had decided to save some production cost by not putting the camera inside packaging but actually made the camera apart of the packaging. The cheap, primitive appearance belied the advanced interior which 2D images and stored them digitally. While not unheard of in the Inner Sphere, such systems were usually much heavier and bulkier than what Remus held in his hand, not to mention much more expensive than what he paid for the tiny thing.

Of course, the camera had come with a warning that the digital format used by the camera wasn't compatible with any Inner Sphere made reader. That was okay because there was a kiosk where camera buyers could print out hardcopies of the pictures they had taken… for a small fee of course.

"Alicia! You look as lovely and radiant as ever."

"Davion dog! How dare you speak to me!"

"Now, now, Alicia. If you keep going on like that, people might think we were married or something."

Remus's attention was drawn over to where Carlos Davion and Alicia Kurita were. Both had been initially set up as provisional ambassadors for their respective nations until actual ambassadors arrived. The relations between the two had become rather infamous in short order. Carlos was something of a rake and womanizer with a taste for pretty women. "Pretty" didn't do Alicia justice, and half the words that came out of her mouth involved either putting Davion down or fending off a specific Davion's advances. Some of the people Remus worked with on Antallos were taking bets on when the two would wind up in bed together. Remus, of course, was above such things.

He snapped a picture of the pair anyway.

Moving on, Remus made his way through the throng of people. It was more crowded today than usual, what with a large number of high-ranking and high-status people present. ISA DropShips were landing today, already had in fact, but it wasn't the usual shipment of supplies and personnel coming in. It had been officially announced that a BattleMech battalion and Armored battalion were due to arrive.

"…concerned that the Combine or the Suns might view this buildup as an alarm?" The reporter Erika Adler asked the ISA General when Remus drifted within earshot.

"Not at all, Miss Adler." General Davis replied, "The ISA First Combined Army has been a bit understrength in terms of armor and 'mechs since the Battle of Port Kirin despite replacement personnel and equipment sent to us. The new battalion is also bringing in a newer generation of tanks that have been designed with modern weapons and technology in mind. I'm given to understand that they're more survivable than some of our older generation of tanks we have planet side.

"More survivable in what way, General?"

"Now, you understand I can't get into the details…"

Remus snapped a picture of them and moved on.

"Hey, look!" a child at the window announced, "They're coming out!"

Indeed, a parade of vehicles and BattleMechs began to exit the series of ISA DropShips of unknown design. They were pretty distant, but the kiosks here also happened to sell binoculars and telescopes. Remus didn't have one, but even so he could make out a few details despite the distance.

Like the ISA's old tanks, these new ones seemed to be armed with a single large weapon and a single smaller one for anti-personnel use. He knew there were more weapons available to them if the reports from the battle for the planet a few months back were accurate. The BattleMechs were of an unknown design. They were quad-legged with a large cannon mounted over the right torso. He couldn't make out the rest of the armament, but this design was completely foreign to him. The ISA had the ability to manufacture 'mechs of an unknown design and in large quantities.

He snapped some more pictures.

Lockheed Martin Headquarters

Bethesda, Maryland

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

17 February 2007/862 AS

Brian Kirkpatrick silently stood in thought as he looked out through one of large reflective, one-way windows that covered the outside wall of the Lockheed Martin executive board room. The evening lights of Bethesda began to twinkle softly as the evening set in early as it was prone to do this time of year. Watching the lights come on helped to ease his unease. This wasn't the first time he had been in this room. No, he had been here on numerous occasions beforehand to present projects and brief on them. However, this was the first time he had ever been in this room with so many people who were not only from outside of the company, but who had been direct competitors and enemies when he had begun working for Lockheed back in 1981.

"Brian," Robert Stevens, the current CEO of Lockheed Martin spoke up, "it seems we have everyone here. If you'd please…"

He nodded. Kirkpatrick wondered how he had gotten to this point. By all rights he should have been preparing for retirement in a few years, not engaging in the most ambitious project the company had ever conceived of. He had worked on the F-22 and that fighter's would-be successor, the F-35, but this would leave both of those planes well and truly behind.

"Everyone," Bob Stevens began as people found their seats around the large conference table or shifted to get more comfortable, "as you are all keenly aware, Boeing, BMW, Sukhoi, Qinghai Huading, and Mitsubishi won the contract for the 'mech factory that the Draconis Combine has leased to the ISA and moved in on Antallos. You are aware of this as all our companies attempted to win that contract for ourselves. This is the reason we're here today."

He looked around the room and saw the faces of people whom he had met at many an aerospace conference, business convention, and because Lockheed Martin had outbid them or been outbid by them for a contract. Each and every one of them internalized the fact they had lost the multi-billion-dollar contract offered to refurbish and run that factory. He was the only CEO present, something decided in order to keep the partnership between all their companies secret until they were ready to announce and because Lockheed had been the one to propose the venture. They had done most of the leg work. Despite this, each person at the table was important enough to make decisions for the companies they each represented.

"Hmmph, the people in legal were ready to start launching anti-trust suits and make accusations of corrupt business practices when those five won the contract." Mark Liktos, Northrop Grumman's representative, noted with a snort, "How exactly is this any different?"

"For that I turn you over to resident lawyer-in-chief." Bob replied with a smirk.

All eyes on at the table turned to look at the white-haired man with the wireframe spectacles and tweed suit. All of them knew who he was: Lord John Ashbury. A legend in international economics and law, he was a professor at Oxford, Harvard, Stanford and Cambridge on his subjects of expertise. He had also served on several advisory committees at the UN, the World Bank, and attended several G8 and G20 summits. He was one of the most knowledgeable people alive on the subject.

"Yes, well," the immensely British man cleared his throat, "the answer to your question is quite simple really. Just as Boeing, BMW, Sukhoi, Qinghai Huading and Mitsubishi have done, you will also do. All of you gathered here are still separate companies and corporations. This venture you are entering into is basically a joint venture and partnership, not a merger. You are also acting internationally. With this distinction, many of the domestic anti-trust laws cannot be properly applied. The nature of this venture allows you to slip through one of the larger loopholes in international trade agreements."

"Of course, should someone decide to target us," Hikio Natsura, the representative from Kawasaki Heavy Industries, noted, "you will be defending us in whatever court is requested, correct Ashbury-san?"

"That goes without saying." Ashbury returned with a grin, "You all will be paying me a considerable retainer for my expertise and abilities. It would be impolite and against my contract to simply advise you and not carry through on any potential legal concerns. Considering the political playing field at the moment, I doubt any major issues will be raised."

"Even if they are, it will likely be too late, and we will have already secured our position." Stevens commented.

"Yes, it does help when you have certain…connections," Andre Grapillon, the Dassault Group representative noted. Every company represented in the room had major ties with their home governments and had quite the fair stable of politicians to call upon when needed.

"Please." US Senator Diane Feinstein of California, a leading member of the Senate Intelligence Committee, interjected, "International security and the needs of our world facilitated this meeting."

"Indeed." Pierre Lefote, a leading member of the Palais Bourbon, added, "It was not easy making sure this meeting did not leak to the press. Can you imagine how your competitors would feel knowing that you are all here preparing to launch what is one of the greatest military proposals since the Manhattan Project?"

"You're not wrong." Bob hummed in agreement, "Now, I would like to focus our attention back to the matter at hand, the overall goal of this venture. Brian, if you would please?"

Brian Kirkpatrick rose and moved to the far wall as the projector fired into life, "As you are all aware, victory on the modern battlefield had been decided in the air. Dominance of the skies had led armies to victory as they were able to cut off enemy supplies and reinforcements as well as reduce whole troop formations into little more than fish in a barrel. To this end we have seen the development of some of the most fantastic airframes in order to secure and maintain air superiority and tactical flexibility."

The first slide flashed onto the wall. The images of the F-117 Nighthawk, the B-2 Spirit, the F-22 Raptor, and the F-35 JSF greeted them.

"These were among the greatest aircraft modern warfare had ever seen on this planet." Brian stated with a hint of pride, "They have the most sophisticated electronics packages, carry the best weapons, could outfly near everything else in the sky, and are near invisible to existing air detection systems. However."

The slide shifted. The images now shown were both familiar and yet alien in nature. The screen showed a Union-class DropShip, a Leopard-class DropShip, an Invader-class DropShip, a Baliset-class transport, a Seydlitz Aerospace fighter, a Sparrowhawk Aerospace fighter, and a Fedaykin-class Aerospace fighter.

"These are the new faces of power in the skies." Kirkpatrick highlighted and enlarged each image as he proceeded, "We have seen vessels capable of entering and leaving the atmosphere under their own power, doing so multiple times. These craft measure from multi-story giants to smaller craft that can run rings around many of our modern fighters. On top of that, these craft have superior firepower and armor. They can outlast anything we have in production."

"Pardon," David Crowley of BAE Systems interrupted, "correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't a number of our current fighters shoot down these 'superior' fighters during the invasion?"

Kirkpatrick replied sternly, "A majority of the kills were credited to the ISA's Fedaykin fighters. Our own craft shot down maybe thirty-percent of the enemy's fighter craft. That is not a true example of the capabilities of the enemies we will face in the future."

"Gentlemen, if I may?" Stevens interjected, "We have seen that our fighters can engage this new threat. However, it comes at a high cost. Our current fourth and fifth generation fighters that were sent against the pirate forces without the support the ISA's fighter wings suffered severely. Forty-seven percent casualty rates for our fourth-generation fighters in those engagements. Fifteen percent rates for the fifth-generation fighters deployed by the United States."

"Such numbers are… deceptive." Sergei Mischklov of Mikoyan added, "BattleTech aerospace fighters are far deadlier than the numbers suggest. Our pilots only encountered a dozen or so of these fighters, and they were dispersed across the globe, not concentrated."

"Yes sir." Kirkpatrick agreed as he steered the conversation back on track, "Had the pirates concentrated their fighters and had more of them, the casualties for our own fighters would have been much higher. If the pirates had been a well-equipped House unit or a ComStar unit with a dedicated fighter program, the casualty estimates are staggering for our native fighters."

"What are the estimates, Kirkpatrick-san?" Natsura inquired politely.

"If our current squadrons were to encounter their Inner Sphere counterparts without any ISA support where numbers were equal… it would be bad." Kirkpatrick replied solemnly, "Conservative estimates place the casualty rates for fourth-generation fighter squadrons at nearly seventy-eight percent while fifth-generation units would have a casualty rate of forty-six percent on day one. Inner Sphere units would suffer anywhere between thirty-two to fifty-six percent casualty rates. As time progresses, the numbers contin-"

"Excuse me," Ken Wilkerson of Daimler-Chrysler interrupted, "but why is there such a range on enemy casualty rates?"

"Unlike our military air forces," Stevens took the helm from Kirkpatrick, "the Inner Sphere has a far wider range of craft to choose from and with which to compose their units according to the source material. We could face anything from light fighters at twenty-tons to the heavy fighters at one-hundred. Each weight class has their own advantages and disadvantages in terms of speed, armor, and weapons. Our estimates are based on encountering a mixed aerospace fighter unit that has a variety of weight classes but focused on one or two particular classes as the heart of the squadron. Our saving grace here is the ISA's indominable F-11 Fedaykin fighter, which was able to engage and completely annihilate its enemies on contact with zero losses of their own. Still, even with our current weapons stockpiles of ISA-grade missiles that can easily handle BT-grade armor we would still see casualty rates as high as the initial estimates for our fighters. If the Inner Sphere sent a massed assault of their best aerospace fighters against us and we didn't have Fedaykin coverage in that zone, it would turn into a relative shooting gallery with our planes coming out on the losing end."

"There is some good news for our planes, however." Kirkpatrick wrested control back and zoomed in on F-22, "We hold the advantage in our stealth capabilities and in the capabilities of the electronics employed in our fighters. The F-22 in the pinnacle of this advantage, limited only in quantity. The older fourth-generation fighters do still have an advantage in their electronics packages."

"Such advantages are hardly enough," Mischklov said, "that is what you are saying, yes?"

"That is correct, sir." Kirkpatrick nodded, "This is where the F-11 Fedaykin comes into play." The slide zoomed into the image of the ISA's mainline fighter, "This aerospace fighter incorporates all of the ISA's technological prowess, their defensive capabilities, their resiliency, and their tactical flexibility all into a sleek package. BT fighters stand no chance against these, but the ISA isn't mass producing them as of now. They only have enough to supply their naval vessels, Earth Defense Orbital Headquarters, and a squadron for Antallos."

"This is why we're here." Stevens spoke up, "We are here to address the problem of expanding our air superiority from simply relying on the ISA's existing fighters to manufacturing new fighter designs for Earth, Antallos, and whatever our people need."

"Now, everyone, these are the spoils of war." Kirkpatrick changed the slide to a hanger with a number of craft within, "The ISA has shipped back every fighter recovered on Antallos as well as a list of the craft and pictures of each design. In total there are eight different designs of aerospace fighters, running the gamut of the Inner Sphere's weight-class system."

"Eight different designs and there are supposed to be more in service with Inner Sphere forces?" Wilkerson let out a low whistle, "We'll need to really play catch up to expand our air superiority umbrella."

"That won't be necessary," Kirkpatrick replied, "as any company that wins a bid for one of these fighters also gets the assistance of ISA RnD. They will provide the technical package on the Fedaykin so that any potential design will know what it's up against and will meet the ISA's requirements."

"Everyone," Stevens announced, "I believe by working together to present a united bid, we can gain access to a majority of these fighters if not all of them. From there we can test, tinker, and take apart these fighters in order to learn their secrets. With that and the ISA's assistance we ca-"

"We can begin producing our own fighters." Crowley finished with a wry grin, "Oh, that's good. That's very good old boy. We'll be able to dominate the fighter market for at least a decade if not longer should we all work together."

"Exactly." Stevens confirmed, "However, this is but a single part of our overall goal. Brian?"

Kirkpatrick changed the projector's image to that of a multitude of DropShips, "The ISA has also released a list of DropShips that were captured on Antallos. They are making available a number of Unions and Leopards, along with a few Buccaneers, a Leopard CV, several Mules, and a Fortress-class. All of these have been looked over by the ISA's RnD staff and are available for us to bid on."

"However," Stevens interjected, "due to their larger nature I believe we should limit the bid to only look at the Fortress, the Leopard CV, a few Mules, a few Leopards, and a few of the Buccaneers."

"Your reasoning being?" Natsura inquired.

"Each of those classes offers a far better a far better overview as well as a specific look at DropShip construction and use." Kirkpatrick answered, "The Mule-class is mainly a civilian freighter and carries little military value. The knowledge to build such a type of DropShip can be easily inferred from looking at the carrying capacity of the others. The Fortress-class is rather unique in that it is designed as a true ground assault craft. It is heavily armored, armed with a BT artillery piece, can carry twelve 'mechs, twelve armored vehicles of various weights and sizes, and three platoons of infantry. It is far better than the Union-class in both armor, armament, and carrying capacity. It also surpasses the larger Overlord-class in terms of armor and armament. The Leopard CV, on the other hand, is a dedicated aerospace fighter carrier and studying it would allow us insight into how to produce carrier DropShips of our own. The Buccaneers were originally going to be dismissed, but-"

"But in the course of the Battle for Port Kirin, the ISA made great use of the Leopards they had modified to supply close air support." Stevens interjected, itching to participate in the conversation, "However, reports from the crews of the Leopards reported it was somewhat difficult to keep the Leopards stable enough to provide the accurate fire needed to support the ground troops. Some of our engineers believe that the Buccaneer may offer a more stable platform as it has larger wings than the Leopard while mounting comparable armor."

"We were under the impression at Daimler-Chrysler that all the modified Leopards that were deployed on Antallos performed admirably," Wilkerson stated, "why would we want to change the platform if it performed so well?"

"Because we want to build a dedicated gun platform." Kirkpatrick replied, "We don't want to stick to a stop-gap solution. We want a permanent answer, something to succeed the AC-130 gunship with the stability the platform needs to perform each and every time on the battlefield. That, combined with new fighter designs, should give the ISA the reach it needs to defend all of our worlds as it sees fit, as well as take the fight to the enemy when that time comes."

"Interesting." Natsura remained polite and calm, "The ISA does require more equipment, and we are well positioned to put produce new designs for an equipment-hungry military force. What about a true spaceborne design, a WarShip as it is known in the literature?"

"With the designs of the DropShips and the assistance of the ISA, we should be able to begin production of our own jump-capable vessels." Kirkpatrick changed the slide to one of a sourcebook picture, "This, this is a pocket WarShip. While the ISA Navy has an impressive array of naval vessels, we need remove the dependency on them in order to give the ISA the flexibility it needs to respond to any threat. While there is only one faction in the galaxy currently able to field WarShips, with our presence it is only a matter of time until we garner the attention of forces that could wield them in far greater numbers. The pocket WarShip concept is our best bet at putting forth a design that is practical, flexible, and has the capacity to free up much needed vessels from local patrols to power projection. Now, when it comes to actual WarShips…"

"The data is forthcoming." Stevens finished, "From what we understand, the ISA has received schematics and technical data for the construction of these vessels. While building them would be a massive undertaking, I think we can agree that if we go in together, we would have the best shot of winning that contract when the time comes."

"How do you know this?" Liktos asked, "I mean, these constitute state secrets, and I don't want to hang for treason."

"It was deemed safe information to share with the relevant parties." Assured Senator Feinstein, "I can assure you, Mister Liktos, that you will not hang."

"How does that sound, Mark?" Stevens asked the man.

"Well, if I do end up in jail, I know whose opponent I'll fund in the next election cycle." Liktos said with a half-hearted smile.

"Everyone, you have heard the proposal and its goals. I have spoken personally with each and every one of your companies' CEOs. They assure me that each of you was sent here not only to evaluate but also formally sign on with the project if you thought it to be worthwhile to your companies. So, I ask you, will you work with us to make this proposal a reality?"

"We're in." Ken Wilkerson said on behalf of Daimler-Chrysler, "I know a good deal when I see one, and damn is there profit to be made."

"Your proposal has great merit, Stevens-san." Hikio Natsura of Kawasaki Heavy Industries noted, "Personally, I would simply love to see the faces of Mitsubishi when they realize what they have missed out on. Consider us partners."

"We will also join this venture." Ferdinant Stasel of SAAB commented.

"As shall we." Andre Grapillon of Dassalut agreed with a nod.

"Count us in." Mark Likos of Northrop Grumman answered, "To not would be insane."

"Sergei?" Stevens asked, "What do you think?"

"To produce aircraft that could outperform your vaunted F-22?" Sergei Mischklov of Mikoyan nodded, "How could I refuse?"

"Excellent." Stevens replied happily, "Lord Ashbury, if you would be so kind?"

Ashbury opened his briefcase and produced a large stack of papers, "These are the basic contract that will be needed in order to formalize this joint venture on behalf of your respective companies. Some of the details such as production and testing sites will need to be hammered out in more detail once you have all successful bid the proposed venture to the ISA but that has been noted already. I believe you all brought along legal teams of your own to look these over?"

"Of course, Ashbury-san," Natsura commented politely, "It is not that we don't trust you but…."

"Ah, no offense taken old boy," the old British expert on economics and international law stated with a laugh, "It is the nature of business. One can't be too careful."

"I assure you that you will find everything that has been discussed here in those documents and that there are no surprises lurking in them." Robert Stevens supplied as several young men and women clad in waiters attire walked into the room carrying bottles of champagne and fine crystal glasses. "We will all get what we desire by working together in this venture. We will defend our world, gain access to and produce the greatest technologies in the universe, and we will reap a great deal of profit in doing so." He raised his glass, "To our dominance of the sky!"

"To our dominance of the sky!"

Bridge, ISV Duncan Idaho

On Approach to Epsilon Pegasus IV

Epsilon Pegasus System, Periphery Space

18 February 862 AS/3022

"ISV Duncan Idaho, this is Columbus Station. We confirm your approach vector. You are clear to enter Columbus orbit. Over"

"Copy, Columbus Station. This is Duncan Idaho, over and out."

Siridar Bashar Tessa Testarossa nodded to her helmsman to bring them in. Their travel to the system had been held up by a supply run to Cradle to retrieve supplies for the newly established Columbus outpost. The decision to thaw out and begin the integration of the former Star League personnel had been approved by the Supreme Bashar to help them facilitate the reactivation of both Columbus Base and Columbus Station. Tessa was impressed. They had reactivated and reestablished Columbus in a record amount of time. From her intelligence briefings, the base was near fully operational and the personnel frozen were very welcoming of their forces after a meeting with their leaders.

Fleet Captain Kilgore Buchholz was doing a fine job with the resources he had, but it was clear that it was not going to be near enough if the ISA wanted to expand the base and perhaps even make it colony. Testarossa brought with her the entirety of Strike Force Bretonnia, one of the ISA's five operational flotillas. In another time, in another universe, this fleet would be proudly displayed guarding ISA space against unwanted intrusion and as a deterrent to any potential enemies. The necessities of their current situation forced them to hide their full naval capability, their fleets relegated to limited patrols and port actions. This was the first time in a long time that the ISA allowed a flotilla outside of the Grantville Cluster.

Tessa reviewed the sensor data and intelligence reports from the system. The satellites orbiting the planet were operational, restored and improved to provide an important data-link between the station and the base below. The drydock had just completed repairs on the Von Braun after months of work to get the facilities back up and running. The DropShips in dock were next in the queue, with the Mammoth-class first due to the… unique nature of its current inhabitant. A fully sentient AI was something considered by the ISA, but decades of war had shelved that project near indefinitely. With a living example of the technology before them, they had a chance to catch back up in their pursuit of artificial intelligence.

"Ma'am," her sensors officer called to her, "incoming transmission from Fleet Captain Buchholz."

"Route it to my ready room." Tessa rose from her command chair and walked into her ready room, the waiting holo-image of Buchholz greeted her with a crisp salute.

"Bashar," Buchholz greeted his superior, "welcome to Columbus."

"At ease." Tessa took her place behind her desk and sat down, "It's good to be here."

"Nice to see at least a small window into the rest of the galaxy?" Buchholz asked as he relaxed.

"Very much so, Captain. I understand that your efforts here are going well?"

"Yes, ma'am. The entirety of the planet side base has been secured. It's a sprawling complex, but it's safe."

"The station?" Tessa retrieved a small cup of tea from her desk's fabricator.

"There is still a good amount of debris in some of the sections, but it's operational. There's still a few things needed in order to get it back up to one-hundred-percent, but we can use it at least."

"Good." She took sip of her tea, "Now, Captain, about your ComStar prisoners…"

Prisoner Stockade

Columbus Base

"Ormus! You have a visitor!"

Imprisoned Precentor Gabriel Ormus was escorted from his cell by one of the guards assigned to the stockade. He had given up on escape. In the intervening months, the ComStar prisoners were meticulously interrogated by this ISA. Nothing invasive, but it was exhaustive. Some of the younger Adepts divulged what they knew, but not he. He would not betray the Blessed Blake or endanger His vision to these… people. He came to understand what they meant by 'visitor' by now. He would be interrogated again by their people for a few hours, he would divulge nothing, and then he would go back to his cell.

He glanced up at one of the drones watching him. These people used these machines extensively to watch over him and the rest of the Von Braun's former crew. He knew they were armed. During an escape attempt by one of the younger Adepts, one of these drones shot a device at them to instantly incapacitate the poor soul. No lasting effects, but they were brought down with little effort. With that one demonstration of their capability, the escape attempts stopped. There were no weaknesses in the walls, no lapses in their keepers' sight. They could only stand firm against these upstarts and give them nothing they could use.

Ormus was brought to one of the interrogation rooms and sat down. The one of the guards stood in the corner, while the other stood by the door. A familiar sight to him by now. He anticipated the next few minutes: through the door would appear one of their officers and the questioning would commence. He reached for the glass of water before him and took a sip. Any moment now…

Through the door appeared a young woman, her age no later than her late twenties. Her silver hair was bound in a braided ponytail over her shoulder. She was not one of the officers that had interrogated her in the past. The guards stood at attention, something he had not seen during any other interrogation. That denoted her importance, her rank. She motioned for them to be at ease and sat across the table from him.

"Precentor… Ormus was it?" she began as she made herself comfortable, "I see you're healthy. That's good."

"I will tell you nothing, successionist, so let us drop this charade and send me back to my cell." Ormus declared defiantly.

"Well hello to you too." She motioned to one of the guards, "Can you get us some tea?" The guard near the door nodded and left without question, "Now, Precentor, that's no way to start our relationship. We've known each other, what, two minutes?"

"I will tell you nothing." Ormus held, "This exercise is pointless."

"Fine." She waited in silence for the guard to return, and return they did. A pot of tea with two cups delivered on a simple metal tray. She poured two cups and pushed one of them before Ormus before taking a sip of her own.

The pair drank their tea in silence. Ormus noted the flavor. It was not a blend he had before, and he considered himself a bit of a connoisseur of tea.

"What kind of tea is this?" Ormus asked.

"A Kukicha blend I favor." She took another sip, "You like tea, Precentor?"

"I do." Ormus took a long sip, reading the subtle sweetness as it passed over his tongue, "It is not a bad blend."

"I would hope not." The young woman inhaled the aroma from the cup, "I can never tire of this." She produced a small device from her jacket pocket and began to read, "Precentor Gabriel Ormus, commander of the ComStar JumpShip Von Braun. A Magellan-class vessel. Four extended-range large lasers with four large pulse lasers, twelve anti-missile systems, paired long-range missile pods slaved to an Artemis-Four fire control system. Heavily armed and armored for exploration missions, in case you run into trouble. In this case, you weren't able to use those weapons to defend her, but that is neither here nor there." She pressed on her small tablet, "HPG-capable, lavishly equipped, ComGuard garrison, lithium-fusion battery for emergency jumps, really quite impressive. From what I understand, this is standard issue for the Explorer Corps. Have I missed anything out, Precentor?"

Ormus felt his eyebrow twitch. How did they know so much? His adepts did not have such in depth information on the specifications of his vessel, nor the fact that it was standard issue amongst the Explorer Corps.

"Where do you fall with the First Circuit, Precentor?" She asked as she took another sip, "Do you follow the words of Primus Tiepolo or do you side with Precentor Dieron Waterly?"

What did she mean? He wondered, The Primus' authority is absolute, but is there dissention in the First Circuit?

"Ah, I see you are unaware." She smirked, "I guess years in deep space with only the HPG network to rely on does delay news for you a bit." She looked at her tablet again, "What is your mission out here, Precentor?"

"I-I…" Ormus was lost for words. They knew so much of the capabilities of his JumpShip, and seemingly the inner workings of the First Circuit of Terra. What could they not know? "How do you know all of this? The technology of my ship hasn't been available in the Inner Sphere for-"

"Centuries, I am aware. You jealously guard it to 'keep the peace,' which given the history of the Inner Sphere makes sense to an extent, but due to your organization's hoarding the galaxy has suffered. Medical technology has fallen, where diseases and disorders that were once quite curable are now deadly. Infrastructure has collapsed on many worlds, leading to the political state of the galaxy at large. Your tight control of the only methods of FTL communication has isolated worlds that were once interconnected with the rest of humanity. If a world loses its HPG capability, you are the only ones capable of repairing and replacing it. So much control placed in the hands of a pseudo-religious organization. Some of you even believe your own rituals help the technology function. Science reduced to mysticism. A sad state for this universe." She shook her head.

"We do it to protect humanity from itself!" Ormus protested, "If not us, then who? Who is supposed to ensure that our species does not kill itself?"

"One must accept the risks that technological advance provides."

"At what cost? You know the history of the Succession Wars, you know how much humanity lost when it turned its weapons against itself." Ormus shut his eyes, "To pursue such things will bring ruin to us all."

"As much as I enjoy a good philosophical discussion, we have more important matters to discuss." She tapped on her tablet and brought up a holographic image in the center of the table, "We have a plan in place to bring your people back to Cradle. In what role will depend on your decisions today."

"I will tell you nothing." Ormus remained defiant.

"You do that, and you will remain a prisoner for the rest of your days. You cooperate, tell us what we need to know, you will know freedom little by little. Perhaps you could even visit Earth, but that all depends on you."

"Terra. You would let me see Terra again?" Ormus felt his resistance crack a bit.

"Not Terra. Earth is extremely similar, and I think you would find it most agreeable. You may even recognize more than a few sites on the planet. Again, it depends on you."

Ormus thought about it a moment. To see Terra, even a facsimile, would bring him great joy…

"What would you have me do?"

Bridge, DropShip Ark

Columbus Station Drydock

20 February 3022/862 AS

"Such progress in such a short amount of time. I am impressed."

"They're also good people. I mean, we haven't been mistreated once. They're damn good to us, even let us take a look at some of their tech."

"I agree. Everyone's awake, alive, and working. They've even brought more support here. They're gonna rotate us out. Bring us to Earth."

Three figures sat in familiar discussion on the bridge of the Ark: The Ark Interface, Ai; Colonel Jason Carter, former Commanding Officer of Columbus Base; and (recently promoted) Major Zhi Hu, Carter's Executive Officer. They were allowed more leeway since their original meeting with the ISA. Their working relationship with the organization had warmed considerably in the months since. Both sides trusted one another far more than before. Still, they had some lingering doubts of the veracity of their claims. Was there really another Terra out there? One untouched by the ravages of the Succession Wars? Would they take the risk and disembark with them to this fabled world? This was the subject to today's discussion.

"I say we take the jump." Colonel Carter began, "What do we have to lose? Our families are here, and Kerensky didn't bring us with him. This is the closest we're going to see of Terra again."

"Us. That's what we have to lose." Countered Major Hu, "We are all that's left of the Star League and surrendering that to the ISA seems like a defeat to me."

"How is that a defeat? We could teach these people the ideals of Lord Cameron's legacy, guide them in the noble ways of the Star League."

"Colonel, I must be frank, despite the months of cooperation between us we still don't know that much about them. To presume they'll have our best interests at heart would be very foolish."

"Hu, they defrosted our people, took care of us, worked side-by-side with us, they even cured some of our people that had terminal illnesses. We can't turn a blind eye to that."

Ai raised her hand, "Please. If I may." She brought up a holographic image of the ship, "All my simulations involving a hostile force indicate with at least ninety-seven-percent accuracy that you would be dead or imprisoned and the facility would be strictly under their jurisdiction. I would have been forced to activate my self-destruct protocol to prevent my technology from falling into their hands. Instead, they have worked with me to study the inner workings of my construction and design. They have aided us and our people and have shown nothing but compassion."

"In the event they're not who they say they are, what will we do?" Hu asked.

"I will self-destruct and take as many of them with me." Ai responded simply. "A fusion reactor makes for a fantastic destructive device."

"Listen," said Carter, "if you're so paranoid, then we all ride in the Ark to Earth. If they are not the successors to the Star League I think they can be…"

"I can live with that compromise." Hu resolved with a sigh, "Work for you, Ai?"

"Satisfactory, Major Hu." Ai's construct sat in her command chair, "Shall we contact the flagship of the newly arrived fleet?"

"Yes." Carter answered, "I still don't think it'll be necessary to blow us all up."

Kuritan Landing Zone

Port Kirin Interstellar Port

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

21 February 3022/862 AS/2007

Eight dropships descended towards the spaceport in an impressive display of synchronization and fireworks. The Combine vessels were guided by beacons and air traffic control toward a secured section of the port where the welcoming committee was already waiting.

Colonel Kurita tugged at his collar in the heat. Tai-sa Ulysses had radioed ahead, requesting his presence. General Davis had no objections, as it gave him time to catch up on administrative duties. So, Colonel Chou Kurita was the ISA's military officer to greet the Draconis Combine.

Beside him were ISA Ambassador Charles Smith and Combine Ambassador Shanti Taro making small talk. The representative of the industrial interests of the five companies who won the bid for the factory stood stoic. He was a German, an Eckart Borchardt. He hid is emotions well. The initial construction of the factory had gone well, with a massive amount of equipment from the five companies simply awaiting the components from their Combine counterparts. Rounding out the party was Alicia Kurita. She couldn't wait to see her grandfather for the first time in months and looked forward to handing over command of the Combine forces on Antallos to him.

The DropShips landed, and they waited in silence while the heat from the engines dissipated. Chou glanced behind him at the 'honor guard' deployed to greet their guests: sixteen Kartikeya BattleMechs, all armed to the teeth. It was on the insistence of Bashar Serov. 'The Combine respect strength, so we shall bare our teeth as is expected' he said. Chou hoped that the Bashar was right. Of course, no one outside the ISA was aware of the artillery and orbital platforms aimed at the landing site in the event things went sideways.

They received an all clear from the tower. The Kartikeyas moved forward in a defensive formation around the lavish land vehicle the diplomatic team took to the base of the lead DropShip. As they approached, the ramp on the DropShip opened, allowing a lance of mismatched medium 'mechs to disembark and take up their own defensive positions.

There was a tense air of potential violence as the vehicle came to a stop. Neither side wanted to show the other any weakness. To any watching, it was obvious that the ISA took the Combine seriously, and vice-versa. The vehicle came to a stop, and the party disembarked to greet Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita who had come behind his 'mech entourage. Ambassador Taro and the young Kurita took the lead and quickly exchanged personal and official greetings. In a break from protocol, Ulysses hugged his granddaughter closely before releasing her.

Chou and Smith wondered who the well-dressed man behind Ulysses was. They both pegged him as a professional. His manners, his gait, his person took in the sights without condescension or becoming affected.

Ulysses separated from his daughter and strode to Chou, who saluted. The older man responded in kind and produced a scroll tied with velvet ribbon and sealed in wax. Ulysses handed it to Chou, confused by the action. The only identifying mark displayed was the dragon on the seal. He looked at Ulysses. The older man nodded. Chou gently broke the seal and unrolled the paper. Taro and Smith looked over his shoulders, curious as to its contents.

He read it. Paused. Read it again. Paused. He stared at the paper, his mouth agape.

To our beloved Cousin, Chou Kurita,

I, Takashi Kurita, do invite you to a personal audience with the Dragon upon the world of Luthien before the year is out. It is understood that your current commitments prevent a prompt presence before his august personage, and so you have been granted this period of grace. It is hoped that despite this, you will arrive soon.

Below the words was an ink stamp denoting the name 'Takashi Kurita' impressed in the paper.

Smith read it over and looked back up at the stunned Colonel.

"Well, my boy, it seems you need to get an appropriate present."

HPG Station

Port Kirin Outskirts

22 February 3022/2007/862 AS

The lines at the ComStar station were longer than usual, something to do with the recent construction on the station Remus supposed. He paid the Acolyte for the small slip of paper addressed to him and politely turned down the offer of a junior Acolyte to read it for him. While he had used such services in the past, his current assignment didn't require him to pose as illiterate.

He left the HPG station and shielded his eyes from the harsh noon day glare. It was one of his days off from Bob's shop. He tended to use these days to either catch up on his real work or relax. Today was a relaxation day. He had promised himself that much. The entire shop had pulled extra shifts when the ISA needed people to help build the new factory on the outskirts of town. Bob's shop was considered trustworthy enough for the job. With the factory done, everyone had their days off again. He turned down one of the roads and headed toward a unique feature that had emerged over the past couple of months.

Someone with deep pockets had purchased a full city block near the center of Port Kirin and demolished near all the buildings there. In their place was installed a park. Trees, grasses, and plants from Antallos and 'Motherlode' were planted to liven the place up, along with some recreational facilities and brilliant common areas. The greenery was in stark contrast to the dust and dirty buildings around and the population had taken quite a liking to the area.

Remus suspected the ISA were behind this as a part of the 'Urban Renewal' initiative but there was no evidence for or against that suspicion. He wandered in that direction and intended to take part in the relaxing atmosphere, perhaps cool his feet in one of the small ponds. As he walked, he noted the recently constructed shipping container apartments.

It was yet another novel idea from the 'Motherloders.' Shipping containers were ubiquitous about the Inner Sphere and even into Clan space, their convenient shape and size allowed for the easy transportation of goods. Even the ISA used the same dimensions, but that wasn't his focus. Here, they converted unused containers into homes, stacked like typical apartments for one or two people. These converted containers provided a huge improvement over the standards of living a mere year ago.

It offered an interesting view into the mindset of the Alliance. They wasted nothing and tried to find as many uses as possible for anything they came across. It wasn't a unique attitude when compared to the greater galaxy, but how they went about it was. To them, even if something was built for a specific purpose, they would find more uses. Those uses? Cargo containers became homes and clinics. Soldiers doubled as police. Vehicles of war helped civilians in peacetime.

If their world was truly the 'Motherlode' promised by Vorax, why were they so conscientious about recycling everything? Sure, their ubiquitous drone fleet made use of the raw materials found in the ruins of the ancient city but when possible, they would try to convert what was already there to suit their needs. Salvage had a part in that, but the more he thought about it the less it seemed they were simply salvaging. Few of the 'mechs and material recovered across Antallos were refurbished and returned to service.

It made sense that some 'mechs were too far gone to be restored, but what of all the material? The simplest answer was they returned it all to 'Motherlode,' but why? It was clear their worlds were far away, so why shift military assets off-world?

Too many questions, not enough answers. He wondered if he had done the right thing turning down the offer to join the ISA's Foreign Legion. He told the recruiter those weeks ago he liked for working for Bob, which wasn't a lie. Also, operating an IndustrialMech required different skills than piloting a BattleMech, also not a lie. Any other group in the Inner Sphere would have drafted or conscripted him into their military despite protests, but the recruitment officer simply nodded and accepted his reasons.

They did leave an open invitation should he ever change his mind. This was a frame of thought that boggled the Clansman. Back home, the caste system ensured everyone was in their place, with MechWarriors at the top of the hierarchy. In the Inner Sphere nobility ruled and people did as they were told. The ISA? They operated like a meritocracy. People were given the positions based on their proficiency and the individual's drive to achieve it. They didn't force it but allowed society to ebb and flow into what was needed.

He shook his head to clear his head of these errant thoughts. He wanted to relax, not think about work. Besides, there was only so much conjecture he could do alone. He entered the park, took a seat on one of the benches, and unfolded the message he received from the HPG station. It was from his 'mother.'

Dear Remus,

Thank you for your letter! Your description of a good life has convinced your sister Mary and her husband to pack up and try the life on Antallos!

There was more, but that was the important substance of the letter. There were two more agents en route to join him in the next three months, JumpShip times notwithstanding.

International Training Center

Fort Irwin, California

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

24 February 3022/2007/862 AS

Major Andreas Staedele examined the floor of the expanded hangar. When he and his company were rotated off Antallos and arrived at back on Earth, he found Fort Irwin had been expanded immensely. 'More training space, more units' he was told. More native Earth units were being trained for integrated operations, and that required real estate. More updated hardware required more training. Andreas understood completely. He would want the exact same thing.

The expansion of the base also included space for his unit. The Buron Cavalry had more space allocated during the initial base expansion, and that was what he saw. The hanger he stood in had room for a full battalion of BattleMechs, a far cry from the relatively cramped spaces he left. To fill the space, there were proposals in his office to purchase additional 'mechs, vehicles, and weapons from the ISA to expand the company. Options to purchase Kartikeyas from Cradle, with provisions for updates and upgrades as they come. Vehicles up to ISA spec, weapons the same. It was exciting. It truly looked as if their fortunes had turned.

In addition to the purchase options was a flood of applicants looking to join up. Hundreds of applications were sent to his office, all hopeful to join the ranks and see the universe. He figured many of these people had a romantic vision of the mercenary life, fueled by the rampant fiction that was on this planet. There was something to be said about the enthusiasm, but he and his inner circle agreed that the false notions in many of these people's heads needed to be quashed.

He conferred one last time with his inner circle: Nedeljko, Johnson, Hinze, his wife Marie and his aunt Hanna. They all exchanged notes and quietly discussed their game plan for this speech.

"Looks like it matches the number of applications in your office." Marie noted to Andreas as she looked across the sea of people.

"I didn't think they'd all show up." Nedeljko thought out loud, "You ready, boss?"

"Yeah. Let's not keep 'em waiting." Andreas lead them to the stage at one end of the hanger in front of the assembled hundreds of hopefuls. The building fell silent as they crossed before them. Andreas scanned the applicants as he approached. Men and women that covered the gamut of ages and ethnicities, though many appeared to be in their twenties/early thirties. He stopped before the microphone, cleared his throat, and retrieved a small piece of paper from his pocket. He began.

"Greetings, everyone. I am Andreas Staedele, Commanding Officer of the Buron Cavalry. All of you are here because you responded to the job ads on the internet after the ratification of the ISA Charter. You want to become members of our unit. In the next four weeks, we will put you all through a training program that will ensure that only the best of you become a part of our unit. Whether you applied to a member of the infantry, a technician, or a cannon cocker, you will all pass through this gauntlet." He paused and glanced down at his paper.

"Now, I know that some of you may have a romantic vision of what to expect as a mercenary. So, allow me to elucidate you: The career you are seeking is an arduous one. It will be hard, dangerous, and often unrewarding. You may spend years, perhaps decades, separated from your families and your homes. You might die on one of thousands of unnamed forsaken backwaters with little fanfare or ceremony. Another dead merc in the Inner Sphere." Some of the applicants shifted uncomfortably.

"It should also be noted that while certain aspects of discipline within a mercenary company may be considered lax compared to standard military units, there are others that we are even stricter. Don't think this'll be easy going. You will find that me and the other officers will have zero patience with any form of discrimination. That shit gets you killed on the battlefield. There is no place for bigots in my unit."

"By signing the contract that makes you a member of the unit, you will effectively sign away a great deal of personal rights and freedoms for the duration of the contract. You will be expected to carry out the orders of your superiors and you will always be subject to the laws and regulations of both the unit and our employer. You can also expect the following," Andreas' voice softened, "if you become a member of the unit, we will look after you. We will care. When you are a member of the Buron Cav, you're family. You have a problem, you will be able to go to the rest of the unit and we will help you the best we can. No one gets left behind or thrown under the bus as long as I draw breath. That's a promise."

"Now, many of you have had military training. Some of you haven't. This will not play a role in the upcoming training. For the first week, all of you will be subject to a series of physical tests and basic firearms handling. For the remaining three weeks, you will be trained in your respective application areas. This training will be difficult. We will bring you to the precipice of your capabilities and judge you accordingly. If anyone wants to quit, you are welcome to turn in to the nearest officer and declare it. In that event, you will pack your things, get a bus ticket back to LA from us, then be escorted to the gates of Fort Irwin."

"I hope you understand what is expected of you. All of you will now be escorted to the Cav Administration Building where you will sign your probationary contracts. You will then be given your basic gear and directions to the barracks. From there, you will under the care of Captain Johnson."

He paused to let his words sink in, "Welcome to the Cav. Dismissed."

Special Materials Research and Development

CERN, Meyrin, Switzerland

28 February 2007/862 AS

"This data is incredible."

"Endo Steel, Ferro-Fibrous Armor, Myomer Accelerator Signal Circuitry, Extralight Engines, Cellular Ammunition Storage Equipment, schematics for 'mechs from all over the sphere in that era, terraformation schematics, this is a damn infinite font of information!"

Doctor Staci Garnier and her team reviewed the data recovered from the team on New Dallas. The Memory Core yielded so much more than she could have ever imagined. Techniques for structure manufacture that were revolutionary even for the ISA's methods, terraformation devices that she could only dream of, even the groundwork for true artificial intelligence. It was so much to work with, so many advances to be made.

"Doctor Garnier!" one of her junior researchers exclaimed from their computer, "We can make use of some of this terraformation technology on Earth! These Storm Inhibitors look easy enough to construct and can help keep major weather systems under control."

"Doctor!" another researcher called, "With just a few adjustments to our existing manufacturing methods, we could get proper Endo Steel manufacture up and running!"

"One at a time, please." Garnier asked of her staff, "I understand that is very exciting, but we need to stay focused. There are researchers all over Earth and Cradle pouring over the data along with us. We are focused on civilian applications, so let's look at that first, shall we?" She turned to her lead terraformation researcher, "What exactly is this Storm Inhibitor?"

"In the most basic terms, it's a massive mirror complex deployed in orbit over a planet. Using the mirrors to create hotspots, it can effectively control the flow of weather systems by creating high pressure zones to direct them. It can also be used to warm regions, melt ice caps, the applications are vast."

"What about medical technology?" Garnier looked to her medical researcher, "Have you found anything of relevance?"

"There are a few items here, ma'am. There is a device here called the Eligus Diagnoser. It's a more refined version of our scanners we use on our omni-tools, but these are very cost efficient and would benefit many hospitals on both Earth and Cradle. With a little more time, we could probably get a version of the hardware running on our onmi-tools."

"Put a pin in that. I like that quite a bit. Anything else?"

"Ma'am," another researcher announced, "construction methods of the Star League. Water purification systems, power distribution, pretty much everything you need for civil engineers. There are also schematics for Castles Brian, but those-"

"Fall to the military researchers." Garnier finished, "Okay, I think we have an idea of what to focus on. Organize the information, get working on methods for immediate implementation and improvements to the technology. We don't settle for replicating the Star League. We surpass them."