The Coming Storm

by Robert Merlow

3020. Eight years before the 4th Succession War. With the Inner Sphere on the precipice, a new player enters the great game. Two interlopers, united by hardship and displaced in a galaxy of perpetual war are set to completely up-end the balance and thrust the galaxy into a future that was once written. Based on the BattleTech roundtable "An Entry with a Bang" from spacebattles.

7. Part 6 - Setting the Table

Setting the Table

Office of the Systems Security Service

First Combined Army Headquarters

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

4 March 862 AS/2007

Eckart Borchardt was summoned to the office of Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda, head of the Systems Security Service on Antallos. She was working on something on her computer, so he sat down and waited in silence for her to finish. She did so just moments later, folded down her monitor, and looked at the German man.

"I appreciate the prompt response to the summons, Mister Borchardt. I apologize for pulling you away from your work, but this was a matter that we felt you needed to be brought up to speed on."

Borchardt nodded, "How can I be of service, Captain?"

Maeda brought up a holographic image of a man, "Chandrasekhar Kurita."

His internal alarms rang, "The Kuritan businessman whose parts we are installing into the factory. What of him?"

"He is a known figure from the source material and encountering him here has… shifted the landscape a bit. While we cannot totally trust the material, it has been fairly consistent in the depiction of the major players we have encountered."

"I must admit, Captain, I have not paid too much attention to the source material even after the invasion. What should I know of Chandy?" Maeda handed him a tablet. He began to read and examine the photos of the man. There was a recent photo and an apparent drawing of Chandrasekhar as he aged. He could see the resemblance.

"Chandrasekhar, after the Clan invasion, worked as an unofficial spymaster for the Draconis Combine to combat the Word of Blake. However, the material indicates that he was active before then, using his merchant connections and his considerable personal wealth to improve the Combine in various ways. I suggest you read all this material as soon as you can. We are concerned that he is using his position here to gain intelligence on our operations."

"So?"

Maeda cocked an eyebrow at the man, "We play the great game, Mister Borchardt. We treat him as a player."

"I don't quite understand, Captain. This information is at least thirty years before validity. How can we ascribe such characteristics to the man who is here now?"

"One does not emerge as a player in the game out of nowhere." Maeda countered, "It takes years of work and a skillset to match. We cannot discount he has already begun his work, given according to this he was able to stymie the Word of Blake for years."

"Why not send a spy to deal with him?"

"Oh, we have electronic assets in place, but given his position in the factory project it is difficult to get human assets into position. We are counting on you to be that asset, Mister Borchardt."

"I understand." Borchardt rose to leave, "I will be as I am, and treat him as he is."

"Hand me you watch." She ordered.

"What?" he was taken aback by the request.

"Hand me your watch." She repeated.

With some reluctance, he handed her his Rolex. She retrieved something from her desk and pressed it to the back of the timepiece.

"If anything comes up, you let us know." She told him as she returned the Rolex.

Borchardt nodded and left Maeda's office.

---

Five Bridges Factory

Port Kirin

Borchardt and Chandrasekhar Kurita shared a passion for work. They quickly developed a well-oiled professional relationship over the past few weeks since their introduction. Here, they were taking a break from the drudgery of paperwork and inspection to take a late lunch in the cafeteria.

"How's your salad, Chandy?" Borchardt had stumbled over the full name of his Kuritan counterpart for the first few days until the bemused merchant had given him permission to use his preferred shorthand.

"Not bad. A little bland for my taste." Kurita poked at the leafy greens. He missed the more opulent meals he would have been served back home.

"Company policy, I'm afraid." Borchardt kept his amusement to himself. He liked the idea of helping the other man shed a few unnecessary kilos.

"Speaking of companies, how go the talks with Federated Boeing?" Kurita mentioned the recent talks between the company from the lost Hegemony colony and the similarly named producer of DropShips in the Federated Suns.

"I've not heard much on that as I'm not privy to those conversations." Borchardt sidestepped the question. That was Boeing's problem, not BMW's.

Kurita switched tack, "I have been wondering, though: What sort of economy does your nation run?"

Borchardt paused as he attempted to frame a response. The history of Earth and its recent induction into the ISA made the situation complicated. There was also the assumption from the Combine that they were a monolithic nation.

"We have tried everything from barter to unrestricted free market over the course of history." A truthful answer, but not what Kurita was looking for, "I suppose you could best describe it at a free market economy with government regulations in place."

"Interesting." Kurita mulled over the answer, "I have seen many different means of exchange in my years." He didn't like being so blunt in his questions but had found the man across from him was for more receptive to direct and pragmatic queries. A far cry from the subtle machinations of the courts of the Combine, "I would have thought that your people would have stuck with a specific economic system."

"Well, that is a bit of a sensitive subject." Borchardt appeared lost in thought, "After the War, we had to rebuild our economy. So, we tried a model that encouraged cooperation at all levels of production, but some feel that it is now too restrictive.

Kurita's mind raced at the mention of war. Did that mean this ISA was not a unified people? Did they fight a war against other worlds under the same umbrella? Questions coursed through his mind, but were interrupted when a young attendant rushed beside Borchardt to whisper something.

A scowl crossed the German's face as he stood and left his food behind.

"We have a problem."

---

Borchardt rushed through the procedures to enter the clean room while Kurita has some trouble fitting himself into the anti-static smock. With some effort he managed and caught up with Borchardt who was talking with a pair of people over a piece of equipment he didn't recognize.

To Chandrasekhar, this spoke more of the ISA than any vague mention of war or their military capacity. This room was gleaming white with the faint smell of cleaner in the air. The Motherloders went through so much effort to keep this room clean where they used special equipment from their nation to examine the machinery that would be installed in the factory. Their examinations were thorough. Nothing was taken for granted. His initial impatience with the ISA for not simply putting everything back together and building 'mech frames had slowly given way to an appreciation for the meticulous methods Borchardt and his people worked.

When he first asked about the effort going into the examination Borchardt responded that the factory's history of problems concerned them. They wanted to examine whether the errors were human or machine, and they wanted to ensure that nothing was damaged in transit.

Kurita was insulted at the thought but a look at Borchardt showed that no insult was intended. To him it was simply standard operating procedure. Check and double check everything for any possible problems. It was an attitude inconceivable to the people of the Combine. Matters of honor gave a sense to accept what was before you. Not so the Motherloders.

Borchardt growled something incomprehensible but the tone was universal. He stalked over to a nearby phone installed on a support beam and punched in some numbers with unnecessary force. Chandrasekhar took the distraction to approach the two workers and inquire about the problem.

"It's the myomer extruder, sir." The lead technician replied, their features covered by the clean room getup, "The casing was pried open. When we checked inside, we found some damaged parts."

Kurita paused to process this. He had thought that all the examinations were external. This was… he wasn't sure how to reply to this information. His pause allowed the technician to continue.

"We thought that it was perhaps an accident, but further inspection revealed tool marks on the damaged component. If we tried using this as is, the myomer wouldn't set properly and would snap quickly. We called it in and…"

He tuned out the rest of the report. One thought dominated his thoughts and he knew the same was in Borchardt's. Sabotage.

The question was who.

---

Port Kirin Administration Building

6 March 862 AS/2007

"Nothing?" Bashar Superior Serov asked. He had been called in due to the severe implications of the sabotage attempt. Mechanically, it was simple to repair the damage. The part had been repaired and the technicians were keeping an eye on that component for future problems. The issue was who and why.

"No match, sir. We got clean fingerprints and some DNA samples. Ring, middle, and index from the left hand. We've already logged them for future reference. Problem is, we don't have a forensics database of non-ISA people here on Antallos. None of our people touched it, we checked." Fleet Captain Maeda was annoyed. She felt she had lost against the unknown party responsible for the damage.

"What of the Combine's people?" General Davis asked. He wanted to know more and quickly, just like the Bashar.

"That is more complicated, I'm afraid." Answered Ambassador Smith, "We cannot demand that their people submit to our analysis. We have already informed Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita, although it would appear that Chandrasekhar beat us to it."

"Let's put that aside for now." Maeda brought up a holo-image of her suspects, "Let's go down the list of organizations that could have done this. First, House Davion's Ministry of Information, Intelligence and Operations. They and Davion's Department of Military Intelligence would have ample reason to attempt sabotage any attempt by the Combine to expand their military capability. The Combine point their finger quite vigorously at them, predictably."

"I'm guessing the FedSun Ambassador refutes that claim." Serov shook his head.

"In fact, they pointed right back at the Combine's Internal Security Force." Smith rubbed his temples and drank from his glass of water.

Maeda nodded, "That's not unwarranted. There is quite a bit of factionalism in the Combine. Some may even be bold enough to go behind the back of the Coordinator."

"What about the Outworlds Alliance?" Davis asked.

"Given their current status in the sector, there is some concern there." Maeda thought, "Personally, I don't think they have the capability, but we shouldn't rule them out."

"I think we all know where the road leads to this one, though." Serov pointed to the unmentioned insignia, "ComStar."

"It stinks of ComStar logic, sir." Maeda spat the words, "ROM usually targets technology, and this fits just right. It would also bring instability, which ComStar uses to keep the rest of the galaxy tamped down."

"Without evidence, we can't make any accusations." Smith pointed out.

"Well, they fired the first shot people." Serov said as he leaned back, "I have some… ideas on how we deal with this. Charlie, approach ComStar about their upcoming expansion of their HPG station. I want local labor to help build their complex. Mari, get me a plan to get some of our people to 'help'. I want ComStar under a fucking microscope."

---

Cradle Civilian Administration Complex

Cradle

Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Space

8 March 862 AS/3022/2007

Ambassador Ferri paced back and forth across the common room set aside for his entourage. As head representative of the Draconis Combine in the delegation, his orders from the Coordinator were clear. He and his fellow lawyers, diplomats, and military attaches were to gather as much intelligence as possible on the Capitol of the ISA and report back once returned to Antallos.

What they had found was astonishing. They had approached on the nearest pirate point, and out the windows of the refitted Union-class DropShip had seen orbital structures reserved for Terra itself. Drydocks, orbital platforms, multiple space stations, and a large concentration of light on the planet's surface indicated this was no backwater world. He was reminded that this was not Motherlode, but another world entirely, the Capitol proper of the Independent Systems Alliance. If this was Cradle, what was the fabled Motherlode like?

They had landed on the outskirts of their largest population center, at a site called 'New Liberty Interstellar Port.' He made a note to himself to search for 'Liberty' in the Sphere when they returned. Perhaps that information would help them understand where these ISA people came from, politically, culturally, and physical origin. There, they were greeted by the local delegation and taken aboard a set of large ground vehicles to their Administration Complex. On the way, they were briefed about the legal situation as it stood. Like the Inner Sphere, Motherlode had different rules and regulations about the treatment of pirates and enemy combatants. The problems they faced was the blurred distinction between the two.

Vorax had invaded, no one argued that fact, but he had hired, coerced, or simply accepted pirates into his invasion force. Some, like the Buron Cavalry and the Dark Wing Mercenary Company, were legitimate companies forced to work under duress. For a great many others, the issue was much murkier. Months had been spent in political and legal deadlock trying to figure out what the exact crimes were as well as the political mess that arose from the different provincial laws. The ISA representatives expressed their own frustrations at the situation and hoped that the months of negotiation had paid off.

They had kept all their prisoners on Motherlode, which complicated things, but extradition allowed the ISA to bring Combine prisoners from the myriad of Motherlode's provinces to Cradle's massive penal facility. For the past few weeks, Ferri and the ISA staff sorted through all the paperwork involved and surreptitiously took notes while his people interviewed many of the captive invaders. In a stroke of luck, they had found an ISF operative who had been swept up in the invasion. That individual had been tagged for further interviews for information of the time spent on Motherlode.

It was about a week or so ago when he experienced his first panic attack.

The news came when one of his junior adjutants had crashed a meeting he was attending. He was trying to sort out the technicalities between the actual pirates and mercenary/military combatants in the service of Vorax. He was attempting to maximize the presence of Combine citizens in the latter.

The young adjutant rushed from the interview chambers into this meeting and forgot all senses of decorum and proper civility.

"They used NUKES!" they cried.

A few moments of confusion followed. Ferri demanded an explanation. On the side of the ISA, they contacted their superiors and received permission to explain truthfully.

It was true. Motherlode used nuclear arms to defend their world, launched from orbit to soften up the invasion and prevent a more costly ground war. It was emphasized that it was out of necessity. What horrified the Ambassador was the simple acceptance of the use of weapons banned by the Ares Conventions in the defense of their world.

The Coordinator had to be made aware of this fact. Ferri put it at the top of the list for his impending report on Antallos.

When pressed about how many more nuclear weapons they still had, the ISA remained silent.

---

First Combined Army Headquarters

Antallos

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

13 March 2007/3022/862 AS

"I'm sorry, why wasn't I informed of this?" Bashar Serov asked General Davis.

"Bashar, I didn't think it would bring this kind of response." Davis replied, exasperated.

Colonel Aladdin Al Azim sat in the office of General Davis and was stared down by both him and their superior Bashar Serov.

"Colonel," Serov took a breath, "We have Star Lord-class and Invader-class JumpShips in system carrying three Intruders, three Unions, one Leopard, one Triumph, and a Condor." Serov shook his head, "I also have reports of tens of thousands of civilians, all to see Mecca!?"

In the streets, the ISA were prepared to defend the city. No one knew what the newcomers would accept as proof of Mecca's existence and everyone wanted to be prepared if this sizable army decided to attack. Reporters were everywhere. They filmed everything and gathered what information they could. Especially annoying was Erika Adler, a person everyone in the ISA had learned to both respect and despise for her talent to be in the right place at the right time.

"Sir, if we deny the pilgrims access to Mecca, we are no better than Amaris. We could use their 'mechs to help in our defense and their JumpShips to increase civilian cargo capacity." Azim handed Serov a tablet, "I had the Triple-S and Saudi intelligence vet the message before I sent it. It gives away nothing relevant. I also have an invitation from King Ali of Saudi Arabia to whomever needs proof of the city. It's for up to ten people, no DropShips. The cause of the Hajj is supported by every single Muslim nation, as well as the Vatican and Israel." Azim knew the cause was just, unifying and winning the hearts and minds of the Muslim community.

What a community it was. Azim was still astounded by it. Religious traditions separated by countless lightyears in the Sphere were crammed together on the same planet, in the same region. It seemed unimaginable to him, and he had learned from it. There were conflicts, wars, between the faithful, but he had learned the reason for the Hajj. Tolerance. Peace for everyone undergoing the pilgrimage. Millions of people meeting in Mecca at the same time. It was difficult not to learn respect for your brothers and sisters in faith amongst them.

Serov allowed himself a sigh of minor relief, "No more than ten to Earth. Fine. There's still the question of the tens of thousands of-"

"We have to expect thousands of pilgrims annually, sir." Azim noted, "While this is negligible for the Hajj itself, it will put a strain on counterintelligence."

"The Triple-S can handle that." Davis replied, "There are already plans in place to get pilgrims rotated into Mecca in groups of a couple hundred at a time. The biggest problem we've run into is the fixed date of the Hajj."

"I've spoken to many scholars, judges, and other religious authorities on Earth." Azim began, "Some of my men still stationed there have been speaking to them about doctrinal changes and other shifts in Islam over the centuries. Send a request to Earth and they will send back priests, judges, and scholars of the faith that have learned from my men. The Ummah on Earth has prepared itself for this moment. I have seen the Kaaba and I will not accept some of the behavior on the part of my brethren that have not touched Earth even here. While I have concluded that both earthly and spheroid Islam can learn from one another, people in the Sphere went wrong centuries ago. I swear by God we will keep the mercenaries in the Hajj fleet civilized befitting the faithful. They are visitors of Earth. The ISA will make the rules and me and my men are more than happy to enforce them."

"That helps." Serov said simply, "Now, I was informed they may be aggressive. We could use this to our advantage, put them in the Foreign Legion. They'll require training to properly integrate them, but to look a gift horse in the mouth is foolish to say the least. You know better than I, what did our guests bring to the party?"

"Mullah Chalid informed me of the troops in this wave. They have two companies of 'mechs: two assaults; ten heavies; ten mediums; and two lights. In support are a full-strength infantry battalion and two more companies with twenty-eight light vehicles. A full battalion of heavy vehicles, mostly tanks and artillery. They also have Eight aerospace fighters, and another one-hundred-eleven infantry capable of being dropped by a pair of Mark VII landing craft. It's a small army, perfectly capable of landing in contested territory. Chalid even has a fairly standardized equipment set by Inner Sphere standards."

"Nothing the planetary carriers can't handle." Serov nodded, "What else?"

"The second mercenary force is a bit worse off. Understrength 'mech company: seven mediums; three heavies. In support they have three infantry platoons and eight aerospace fighters. They left two mercenary Invader-class JumpShips a jump behind. One of them holds two Leopards and a Union. They have four aerospace fighters and an understrength 'mech company of two lights, four mediums, and four heavies. The other Invader had two Unions and a Leopard. They have a slightly overstrength 'mech company of five lights, six mediums, and five heavies supported by another four aerospace fighters."

"A nice boon to the Foreign Legion, wouldn't you say?" Davis remarked.

"If they don't start firing as soon as they land." Serov noted grimly, "I'm concerned about bolstering the possible extremists on Earth and even exporting such views into the Inner Sphere. I really don't want to have to deploy troops against hostiles on Earth again if I don't have to, let alone orbital bombardment. What are the possibilities of that happening?"

"There is an old Arab saying, Bashar. 'Me and my brother against our cousin, and me and my cousin against the enemy.' For a long time, the 'West' was considered the enemy. Now most of the sane Islamic extremists on Earth consider it a cousin. I think the ISA's economic outreach programs have done wonders to bring the signatory nations up to your lofty living standards. From what the leaders on Earth say, it has more than helped sway many of these extremists away from Earth and to its defense."

Serov and Davis locked eyes turned back to Azim and nodded.

"Colonel, inform Mullah Chalid he can land. He will be greeted by a battalion of our 'mechs and escorted down by our own aerospace fighter wings. I want him to understand that this is as much for his safety as it is for ours." Serov shook his head, "I really hope this goes the way you want it to, Colonel."

---

Designated Landing Zone

Port Kirin Interstellar Port

16 March 3022/2007/862 AS

Bashar Serov, Colonel Al Azim, Ambassador Smith, and a myriad of other officials waited at their end of the landing zone flanked by a battalion of Kartikeya Heavy 'Mechs. Serov took no chances and also had a pair of orbital platforms ready to fire at a moment's notice. A single Union-class landed upon a column of fire, flanked by two of its own heavy aerospace fighters and a wing of ISA fighters. Chalid was no fool and watched the footage of the Battle for Port Kirin. He understood the combat capability of the ISA, even if he didn't see its full extent.

Five other DropShips remained in low geosynchronous orbit, ready for a combat drop with their own aerospace fighters prepped for launch. The sentiment was clear: attack us, and we will respond in kind.

The engines of the Union cut out, and the vessel's massive ramp extended. The bay doors opened and revealed four Blackjack 'mechs in perfect order. They secured the area, ready to open fire with their massive cannons if necessary. The Kartikeya battalion kept their distance, but their own weapons were ready for battle.

A white-robed man emerged from the DropShip's entrance after his 'mechs had secured their landing zone. He walked down to the ISA delegation and greeted Al Azim.

"As-Salāmu `Alaykum, Mullah Al Azim." His scimitar gleamed in Antallos' harsh light.

"Wa `Alaykum as-Salaam, Mullah Chalid." Azim responded. Both men bowed, "I see you prefer it the personal way."

"Yes." The man responded, "Risking good men for things I can do myself would be a waste. We saw the battle of Port Kirin."

"May I introduce you to Bashar Superior Thomas Serov. He is the overall commander of the ISA here on Antallos and was in overall command of the battle."

Serov bowed. Chalid responded in kind.

"An ingenious way to fight, but not unbeatable." Chalid remarked.

"We have our ways, Mullah." Serov remarked with a smirk, "You just haven't seen all of them yet."

"Quite fair, Bashar."

Azim motioned to the other man with him, "Ambassador Smith of the ISA."

"As-Salāmu `Alaykum" Smith greeted with a bow.

"Wa `Alaykum as-Salaam." Chalid bowed, "You understand you'll have a problem if I decide your… 'Mecca' is a lie, ambassador."

"You will simply have to see for yourself, Mullah. There is nothing I can say otherwise." Smith responded.

"We are in agreement, then." Chalid looked at Al Azim "Tell me why you deserve to live, Mullah if this should prove to be yet another false hope for the faithful."

"Oh, this is simple, my friend, there are indeed already the faithful on that world. We are among brothers."

"You mean...?"

"I have an invitation from the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques." Azim handed the letter to Chalid. He opened skeptically and read it several times.

"Ali Al Saud, King of Saudi Arabia, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, Commander of the Saudi National Guard, Prime Minister of Saudi Arabia?" Chalid asked.

"That is his earthly title, yes."

Chalid folded the letter and handed it back. "You say that you may bring up to ten people to judge the truth... then so be it. When will your next ship leave?"

"Tomorrow. The JumpShip is waiting for us."

"I will be prepared." On Chalid's signal, the 'mechs stood down and the aerospace fighters came in to land. Orbital observers reported that the DropShips in reserve had closed their bay doors.

Professionals. Serov thought to himself. Nice to see for once.

---

Free Azami Army Compound

Outside Mecca

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

20 March 2007/3022

The Union DropShip lowered itself onto the landing pad, greeted by an honor guard of 'mechs. The passengers did not care. They stood at a large window and stared at the city thought lost forever. They couldn't believe it was real.

A few aircraft had landed near the 'mechs and a man clad in rich garments stood before them. There was a group of other men, none of them warriors. Mullah Chalid left the DropShip first and walked to the group of men.

The rich-clad man bowed, "Mullah Chalid, I greet you on Saudi Arabian ground. I am Ali Al Saud. Those men are the members of the Permanent Committee for Islamic Research and Fataawa. These men here are Sheikh Muhammad Sayyid Tantawy of the Al-Azhar University of Cairo, President Khalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan of the United Arab Emirates and President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono of Indonesia."

"Mullah Chalid of the Azami Brotherhood. I am escorted by five other Ulema, including my Mufti, as well as four simple warriors. I have to admit, I am a bit… astonished. I was told you had copied Mecca, but you could not have possibly terraformed a world to contain all of Africa, with the Sahara Desert in its proper place. Everything else… it fits. This… it cannot be!" he whispered hoarsely, "What is this place? What are you!?"

The King of Saudi Arabia smiled gently, "Just a man, sahib. Just a man. But Allah moves in mysterious ways. Let us discuss this while we go to see the Kaaba."

"Y-yes. That is a good plan."

---

Malakitona State Industries

Cradle

Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

25 March 862 AS

Malakitona State Industries, the beating heart of the Independent Systems Alliance military research and manufacturing. Named after an ancient city discovered by one of the founding nations of the ISA in one of their previous universes, MSI had its roots in ancient, advanced technology. The ISA recognized the need for a separate corporation free from the full control of the military to engage in research and development, thus MSI was born. They were responsible for the entirety of the ISA's current arsenal, from their weapons and armor to their sensors and stealth. In their current home, no one in the galaxy possessed the level of technological prowess and ingenuity that they commanded.

Despite their lead, they never stood still. They always anticipated a more powerful opponent, a more deadly weapon, a more capable shield. Any edge they found, they sought to exploit. It was this drive and principle that CEO Iago McGuire held dear. Every universe they had passed through had contributed to their development. Power generation techniques from zero-zero-one, shield generation development in zero-five-zero, stealth drive techniques from one-three-eight. Ideas and methods forged from the experiences of their people over the years. This new universe was no different.

He had a team on BattleMech development. The Kartikeya was a phenomenal first step, a 'mech to surpass any the Inner Sphere had ever wielded, but it was one design in one weight-class. It had its drawbacks, and their manufacturing techniques were still inefficient by their own standards. This was where the factory on Antallos came in. The Earth corporation consortium of Boeing, BMW, Sukhoi, Qinghai Huading, and Mitsubishi had won the contract, certainly. That was of no concern. Intelligence already sent back preliminary reports on the factory's equipment and methods. Then there was the Memory Core on New Dallas. Schematics, construction methods, a treasure trove of information. All of this was available to the companies on Earth as well. The ISA shared the information to spur research and development in the nations of their new allies. It was good to have competition. It had been decades since there was anyone to compete with MSI.

The door to his office opened. Through the frame emerged a familiar figure, one whom he hadn't seen since they arrived.

"About damn time they woke you up." He told the approaching figure as he rose from his desk.

"What've I missed?" asked Iva Bodrogi, his COO and close friend as she drew closer.

"C'mere!" McGuire rounded his desk and gave his friend a bear hug, "Gods, too damn long."

She returned the affection, "Still feels like yesterday to me, but cryostasis is a hell of a thing."

He released her and took a seat on his desk, "You been brought up to speed on the state of the galaxy?"

"First thing they did was download a nice concise primer on the universe." She replied as she tapped the side of her head, "From what I've seen, we've saved Earth and are working on the rest of the galaxy. Looks like we're in some sort of universe where an ancient Earth boardgame is real and it's like the middle ages with 'mechs?"

"Yep. We have a hell of a job ahead of us." He said with a smile, "Still, it's good to finally have you back."

"It's good to be back. What are the major projects right now?" She asked, taking a seat in one of the lush chairs.

"Civilian vessels, 'mechs, and integration of advanced Inner Sphere technology into our existing arsenal."

"Spicy. Do they want to get the rest of the fleet out of mothballs?" She leaned back and sent a command to the desk's fabricator for a cup of coffee.

"The Navy is already handling that one. They want us to help replace the mess of civilian vessels seized during the battle for Earth."

"What do you mean help?" Bodrogi was confused, "We're the sole provider of the ISA's hardware designs."

"Not anymore. Earth's companies are bidding for a chunk of the pie now. We've got competitors now, and they're all getting access to ISA-level technology."

"We've got competition…" She contemplated that fact, "We haven't had proper competition since we left our first universe."

"Oh yeah. We can't rest on our laurels anymore, my friend."

She scoffed, "We've never rested on our laurels."

"Still, it's exciting," McGuire allowed a shark-toothed smile, "to compete on the open market again, to answer competitors with superior positioning and technology…"

"Drive your opposition before you?" Bodrogi asked with a cocked eyebrow, "It's been near fifty years. You still have the drive to compete?"

"I wouldn't be CEO otherwise." He handed her a tablet, "Download all this. It should bring you up to speed to where we're at and where we need to go."

She took it and looked at the file size, "Hoo, that's a lot of data. I need all this?"

"Just get it in your brain when you sleep. We're gonna need you to know everything."

She took a sip of her coffee, "Sure, after I take a tour of our new facilities. I'm impressed by what we've been able to do in two years."

"Trade with Earth has helped a whole hell of a lot. They've helped jump-start our population capacity."

"I'm sure." She rose, coffee in hand, "I'm gonna take a look around. Care to come with?"

He hopped off his desk, "Of course. Our COO needs to know how we operate, after all."

He joined her at the door, and the pair left the room together.

---

Lockheed Martin Advanced Development Programs, "Skunk Works"

Palmdale, California

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

31 March 2007/862 AS

The discovery of the New Dallas Memory Core had spurred on some of the most frantic development on Earth to date. With existing models of 'mechs, aerospace fighters, DropShips, JumpShips, the data from the memory core and ISA technical assistance package helped companies from all over the world tackle the problems the ISA faced with mass production and expansion. The Lockheed Martin-led consortium was already working on a variety of projects related to both military and civilian applications. The most important deemed by the ISA was the JumpShip phase-out/refit project. Inner Sphere JumpShips captured during the Battle for Earth and the subsequent Liberation of Antallos were being stretched to their limit. The KF drives used by the Inner Sphere were also not up to the ISA's standards, much less efficient and terrible jump radius compared to the ISA's own naval vessels. DropShips, unable to jump on their own, were also not up to ISA standard. Even their fighters could jump if necessary.

Skunk Works had all sorts of projects in the hopper, but the most pressing was the Aerospace Fighter Project. Lockheed Martin and their corporate allies began their focus in the aerospace field, a realm they were well versed in and the examples of fighters along with ISA assistance helped them get up to speed. It had taken less than a month to get a working prototype of an aerospace fighter out to Groom Lake for testing. They had opted to forego the ISA-spec stealth drive in favor of stealth materials embedded in the armor. ISA-spec armor was a must. Being able to shrug off attacks from their Inner Sphere counterparts made it essential, along with the next generation shield technology refined after the fighting on Antallos. They had stuck with the ISA's Multi-Aspect Missile 'Tiger Shark' as the primary armament, with a pair of ISA-spec pulse lasers to back it up. They weren't fooling themselves, it was essentially a less capable copy of the Fedaykin, but it needed to be done to prove they could make something comparable. The results were promising, but more work needed to be done.

They had already purchased a place on the new SpaceX Orbital Manufacturing Station, to allow the reliable construction of new kinds of Endo Steel and other composite materials in a zero-G environment. They understood the value of speed, and Lockheed didn't want to be beaten to market again. First-generation materials were already coming back to Skunk Works, and the results were promising. Their first-generation aerospace fighter would have some of the most advanced technology that Earth had ever produced in its history. They found it fairly easy to adapt their stealth techniques to ISA armor, and that would help bring costs down. Weapons designs were even more promising, combining Star League tech with ISA tech might yield even more potent destructive potential, at least that's what the engineers hoped.

Those engineers that had worked on the F-35 Lightning were transferred to the Aerospace Fighter Project, their expertise on the modularity of the design proved essential to the project. They had an idea of where to take the design, but they had hit a bit of a wall. Achieving the modularity they desired introduced problems. They wanted to retain the internal weapons compliment so they wouldn't have to rely on stealth drives which would introduce additional cost and manufacturing time. The problem they had was holding all the different weapon types for any situation like the Fedaykin seemed to. They understood that the ISA had a dedicated bomber but had deigned to use it as no opponent had shown a need to deploy their powerful ground-pounder. They wanted to use an upgraded version of the AGM-154 Joint Standoff Weapon recently updated by Raytheon with an upgraded payload and much longer range, but had problems fitting it in the fuselage of the new design.

One of the engineers had an epiphany: what if they made the entire fuselage modular? The upgraded materials and propulsion systems from the ISA and the New Dallas Memory Core allowed for a much larger range of tolerances for weight and bulk than previously thought. With the right pieces, the right kind of modularity, they could make a single airframe that could fill a multitude of mission roles that the ISA and its signatory nations needed. They got to work on what parts of the airframe could be swapped out for various mission types and in what kind of time frame the crews on the ground would need to make such adjustments in adverse conditions.

The idea was solid, the engineering seemed sound. Now to put it into practice. Hopefully, in the coming months, the F/A-50 could become among Earth's first proper native aerospace fighters.

---

Mikoyan Company Headquarters

Moscow, Russia

1 April 2007/862 AS

Halfway across the globe, one of Lockheed Martin's allied corporations was working on the same kind of project. Aerospace fighters were in high demand from the ISA's signatory nations, and they wanted a piece of the pie. The legendary MiG manufacturer was already a step ahead of the game, with the rumored MiG-41 already under development when the invasion occurred. The new data from the memory core, the ISA, and access to both Lockheed Martin and Inner Sphere fighters seemed to signal a return to form. Their venerable platforms were already in use all over the world, but they had been thrashed by the Inner Sphere fighters they had encountered in the invasion. They had to surpass and overcome the Inner Sphere and now they had the resources to achieve that aim.

They used their existing MiG-41 designs to produce their first prototype airframe. Advanced materials and weapons bristled from the aircraft, it's sleek design originally designed to counter the American stealth aircraft threat and now was pointed at the stars. The engineers at Mikoyan took a decidedly different approach to its design. They were not concerned about modularity, but simply achieving its intended mission: dominating the skies. They had already seen the capabilities of the ISA's F-11 Fedaykin, how with its existing weapons loadout they were able to switch from air superiority to close air support. They wanted to maintain that flexibility, but still rule the skies. Their tests were promising, but their capabilities against their ISA contemporaries were lacking. They wanted to match the battle-tested fighter turn for turn, and they were coming short.

They also wanted to keep the fighter as simple as possible to maintain. This aim would allow the craft to be fielded by militaries that may be lacking in the ability to maintain the aircraft for long periods of time. They wanted it to work, each and every time. They found it relatively simple to keep the systems as idiot-proof as possible. The electronics package, while capable, were easy to work on, as was the fusion powerplant barring any catastrophic failure. A variety of weapons systems could be fit on the craft, allowing flexibility without sacrificing its stealth capability.

The problem of matching the Fedaykin in a dogfight remained. How to overcome the impressive fighter in a turn? They came up with a solution borrowed from the British: VTOL. The Harrier, while not extensively utilizing its VTOL capabilities in the Falklands War, did manage to outmaneuver its opponents in emergency situations. Perhaps they could more effectively utilize this technique to allow their new aerospace fighter to decelerate and turn against opposing fighter craft. Perhaps this was exactly the last piece they needed to compete against the ISA's most proven fighter design.

They wouldn't know until they made the modifications and deployed a new prototype.

---

DropShip ISV Brer Rabbit

Bainsville III Nadir Jump Point

Bainsville System, Free Worlds League Space

4 April 2007/3022/862 AS

David Jackson looked around the table. Across from him was Fisher, his face impassive as ever. To his right was Alexander, who had excused himself from the bridge of the JumpShip to partake in the game. The third and fourth sat to his left. Vincent was the captain of the Union DropShip docked opposite to the Seeker, and Sasha had hired the Union and the JumpShip to take her lance to Solaris VII.

Currently, all wanted the small pile of chips and C-bills in the center of the table.

"Two." Jackson discarded a pair of useless cards. His wasn't the greatest of hands, but the pair of sixes could be built into something better. He kept the king, but it was functionally useless, unless he bluffed to the others he had a three-of-a-kind in hand.

Vincent tossed him the replacement cards. A pair of fours. With feigned hesitation he raised, throwing a few more chips in the pile.

Fisher and Vincent folded in short order, Sasha opted to replace a single card in her hand. With a grimace, Alexander gave up his bid, leaving only Jackson and Sasha up. Alexander glanced at the clock and made a motion to hurry it up. The modified KF drive would be finished charging in half an hour.

"All in." David pushed his remaining C-bills and chips into the pot.

Sasha smirked as she responded in kind, "Well? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

David revealed his two pair, "Sixes and fours." He smiled, "You? Anything worth my time?"

Her smirk spread into a wide smile, "Full house. Nines over threes." She raked in her winnings as her victims all displayed a variety of responses to their loss.

"Well. That was fun." Vincent shook his head as he gathered the cards, "I gotta ask though, Helm? Seriously? I landed there once and there was nothing at all."

Fisher nodded in agreement, "They do produce food for export, and my friend here has plans to build a factory down there for farming equipment." A cheeky smirk broke across his face, "He thinks he can make money there by improving agriculture and selling it for profit!"

Vincent laughed while Jackson rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"Ah, but you forget the best part of my scheme to make me richer than the House Lords." Jackson leaned over the table, "You're coming too."

Both Sasha and Vincent exploded jovially as everyone headed for their jump stations.

---

Bridge, ISV Irulan

In Transit to Helm

Helm System, Free Worlds League Space

5 April 2007/862 AS

Bashar Lucas Anderson reviewed the latest report from the Brer Rabbit. They were en route to Helm and their JumpShip, the Spirit of the Raven, was headed to New Dallas to confirm the findings of the New Dallas team with a few travel contracts in tow. He knew the procedure from here forward. His teams were prepped and ready to depart planet-side to begin searching for the Helm Memory Core. Orbital Platforms would conduct constant scans of the planet's surface to determine the location of the core, while ground teams would secure any viable locations found. Nothing could escape their watchful eye for long, even if it was buried under a mountain fortress. Secrecy was key, and he hoped the stealth drives of his transports would be enough to elude the detection capabilities of the local population.

"Sir," his comms officer called, "they're ready for their briefing."

"I'll do it in my ready room." Anderson walked to his ready room to begin the last briefing before the Brer Rabbit touched down. He activated the holo-link as soon as he was behind his desk, revealing four men sitting around their own table.

"Alright, gents, I'll be brief." Anderson began, "Before you land, there are some things I want to clarify. You will not be hunting for the Memory Core, not right away. The source material indicates that its buried under a mountain about one-hundred kilometers away from Freeport. That city was bombed during the Succession Wars, so you're headed for Helmdown instead. We are already deploying transports and orbital platforms to look for the complex. You folks are to maintain your cover and establish the factory as soon as you can."

"Wait," Jackson interrupted, "you're deploying troops?"

"Stealth transports, Mister Jackson. Undetectable on sensors and make a tiny entry signature as long as no one is looking right at them. We need to secure sites planet-side to conduct ground operations. Now, there are a few individuals to look out for while you're down there. First, ComStar Precentor Rachan: former aide of Primus Tiepolo and the one who tried to get the Grey Death Legion killed while attempting to recover or destroy the Helm Memory Core. If he's down there, be on your guard. They'll likely try to organize a way to kill you if they catch wind of your intentions. Also, Grayson 'Death' Carlyle, founder of the Grey Death Legion. Now, it's highly unlikely you'll find him down there, given the Grey Death have yet to be formed and he's not supposed to discover the core for another five or six years, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"So, establish the factory and await orders." Fisher clarified, "I think we can do that, no problem."

"I've already begun talks to purchasing an AgroMech factory planet-side." Jackson noted, "If all goes well, John Deere will be the first Earth-based company with a factory off Earth."

"You have your assignments, gents." Anderson nodded, "Get to it."

The four men nodded, and the holo-link went dead.

---

Free Worlds AgroMechs Regional Headquarters

Helmdown

8 April 2007/3022

"I'm sorry, say that again?"

"No one's got any orders, so why bother making them?"

David Jackson barely contained his indignation as he glared down at the person in charge of the AgroMech factory. The facility was producing exactly zero 'mechs of any kind, and its current administrator was very content to keep it that way. Jackson knew that this bumbling jackass only needed to work when he was being watched. It angered Jackson to no end. This kind of stagnant behavior was unacceptable to him.

"So, there's no way to get a timely response about by offer." Jackson stated.

"Nope." The lazy administrator responded, "It'll take at least a week, if ComStar moves fast." The man was planning to just sit on his ass and not deal with Jackson's offer. He obviously intended to ensure it never made it to his superiors just to keep his plush job, "You may leave."

Jackson stormed out of the office and met Sam Fisher just on the other side.

"He didn't take, did he?" Fisher asked, anticipating the answer.

"Lazy bastard. Just wants to keep his cushy no work job." Jackson grumbled as the pair left the building.

"We can solve the problem." Fisher offered.

"I don't want to kill 'im. Just need the damn factory."

"Oh, that wasn't in the cards, Mister Jackson. I understand the need for the factory, just the same as you. I'm just offering a solution."

Jackson understood what Fisher was getting at, "Handle it, Fisher."

---

Bridge, ISV Irulan

Helm Lagrange Point 5

11 April 862 AS/2007

"We have our first-pass data, Bashar." Sensors reported.

"Fantastic. Let me take a look." Bashar Lucas Anderson looked over the data on his command chair. He noted the tell-tale railway tracks into the mountains from Freeport, "Wow, they really didn't hide it all that well, did they?"

"Not in the slightest, sir."

"Shall we send our transports to the location?" Comms asked.

"Do it. Have our troops set up a defensive perimeter. If this is a Castle Brian, I want to study the layout. The Star League knew how to build defenses, and if we have to break one, I want to know how."

"Done. Oh, looks like we have a transmission from Jackson, sir."

"Put him through." David Jackson's holo-image appeared on his bridge, "Mister Jackson, tell me you have good news."

"I do, Anderson. Through some persuasion, we were able to secure the purchase of the AgroMech factory."

"Fantastic. I take it it's gonna take some time to get it properly tooled up."

"Some, but not too long. Our farming equipment is real simple."

"Good. We've located a potential location on the Cache. You concern yourself with establishing the factory and getting your orders filled. When Fisher's free, tell him to call me. We have work to do."

"Of course. Anything else you need?" Jackson asked.

"No. Just keep on working, Mister Jackson. Anderson out."

---

93 Kilometers North of Freeport Ruins

Helm

15 April 862 AS/2007

"This is a hell of a door." Sam Fisher noted as he gazed at the imposing massive gate built into the side of a mountain.

"I should hope so." Anderson responded, "If you need to keep out unwanted guests, I would make the doors communicate 'keep out' quite clearly."

The pair stared up, flanked by a pair of Vernius IFVs and squads of infantry. A young marine sergeant approached.

"Sirs, I suggest you stand clear. We're going to begin cutting the doors open." They reported.

"Begin as soon as we're clear." Anderson ordered as he and Fisher walked behind the IFVs, "I want to see what's beyond those doors."

"Yes, sir." The sergeant nodded to another soldier as soon as they were clear. The lasers began their work, slowly slicing through the centuries-old blast door.

---

International Training Center

Fort Irwin, California

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

18 April 3022/2007/862 AS

Major Staedele moved his Warhammer down another street of the mock city that formed the Urban Operations course. He observed his surroundings and the platoon of candidates for his infantry that were supporting him in this live-fire exercise. A mock-up tank appeared at the end of the road, struck immediately by a low-powered particle cannon blast. The candidates surged forward to engage the 'enemy infantry.' From his lofty position, the Major could see they were doing their job just fine.

The candidates advanced at a steady pace. They employed suppressive fire and rooted out enemy positions with grenade launchers and missiles while his Warhammer supported them from behind. He fired occasionally at more hardened positions designated from the infantry. His response was instinctual, which freed up mental bandwidth to gauge the candidates. Their movements and teamwork were a bit robotic, missing the instinctual teamwork he was used to from his regulars, but he understood that took time. For greenhorns, they were doing alright.

He reached the end of the street, his current objective. Staedele went for his comms.

"First Element to Command, we've reached Nav Gamma. Light resistance, light damage to my 'mech. Over."

"Command to First Element," responded Captain Nedeljko, overall commander of the exercise, "well done. Advance to Nav Delta and link up with the other elements for the final phase. Over."

"Roger, Command. Status of the others, over?"

"Third Element had a few problems, nothing serious. Fifth is doing well and-"

"Abort! Abort! Abort!" the voice of MechWarrior Miller interrupted over comms, "Medic to Element Four! Blue on blue!"

---

Staedele climbed out of his 'mech and walked toward the small gathering of candidates. The crowd parted to let him through. At the center of the commotion, a man was lying on the ground, a medic working on him, while Johnson, Miller, and another candidate with one of the M-7 Kindjal rifles they had issued for the exercise stood next to them.

"What happened?" Staedele asked those gathered.

Johnson answered, "Candidate Wilson here saw movement through the windows of the building there." He pointed, "He opened fire without checking his target. Mendez was hit. His squad was clearing the building at the time."

Staedele pierced the candidate with a death glare, "We'll discuss this later."

He kneeled to check on Mendez, ready to ask the medic about his condition. Mendez headed the question off.

"Don't worry, sir. Just a scratch."

Staedele gave the medic a confused look.

"He's right, sir. Shot shattered the shoulder armor, but the round grazed his arm." The medic motioned to Mendez' shoulder, "He's damn lucky. Another centimeter to the right, he'd have to apply for an ISA prosthetic. Already cleaned and dressed the wound. From what I can see, he's gonna get away with a patch and a hell of a bruise in the morning. If not for the shattered shoulder armor, I'd say he'd still be in the fight. That being said, I'd still like to take him to the infirmary and have the doc check him thoroughly."

Staedele breathed a sigh of relief. The Kindjal rifles that replaced their old weapons had already proven their worth as a battle rifle. At least he wouldn't have a write a letter to this guy's family about losing an arm.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Mendez protested, "I'm gonna miss the football game!"

Staedele and the others barely restrained their laughter, "Sorry, Mendez." Staedele apologized through a giggle, "Doc's orders." He stood and faced the assembled crowd, "Alright, you heard 'em. Mendez'll be fine. Wilson, accompany him to the infirmary. We'll talk later. The rest of you, back to your positions. The exercise continues."

---

21 April 3022/2007

"Ladies and Gentlemen, with your last signature, you are now officially enlisted in the Buron Cavalry. Each of you passed your training with flying colors. Each of you earned your positions in our unit. As a welcome gift, you all have a week of leave, starting tomorrow. The rest of the day is yours." Staedele waved the gathered recruits off, "That's an order. Dismissed!"

The crowd of recruits cheered on cue. Many were already headed to the nearest pub to celebrate the serious business of joining the Cav. Major Staedele couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm.

"Nice, boss." Nedeljko quipped at him as he got off the stage, "You certainly spoil them. A week of leave?"

"Yeah. I think they deserve it. Not like they'll have much free time once we get rotated back to Antallos."

Nedeljko shook his head, "Yeah. Early next year, right? What are we doing until then?"

Staedele lead them across the hanger floor, "We continue playing OPFOR and doing side-jobs, the usual. That can wait. You down for a drink?"

"As long as you're buying."

---

Buron Cavalry Administration Facility

22 April 3022/2007/862 AS

Captain Johnson joined Major Staedele and ISA Adjutant Lieutenant Shizuka Banderas. The three of them sat around his desk to discuss the matters of the day.

"It looks like we got ourselves a gig." Staedele began, "Things have cooled down in Afghanistan and Pakistan. With the attack on Mecca during the invasion, hostilities have settled in the region. They're preparing a small summit between the two governments, the Taliban, and your people." He nodded to Banderas, "They don't trust the US or the two governments, and they don't know you guys well enough, so someone up the chain thought it best to hire us to run security at the conference. The pay is good. They think that more radical elements of the Taliban could still try and attack the thing. Not all of them are very happy about this whole peace thing."

"Why us?" Johnson asked, "Aren't there enough PMCs around, like those Blackwater guys? They'd jump at the chance and the publicity."

"They're not trusted by the Taliban." Banderas interjected, "They worked with the US and the Afghani government, and neither side really trusts them all that much. So, the Basharate thought it proper to have our most capable and most a-political mercenary group handle it. Mister Prince isn't happy about it, but if I may, sir: Fuck 'em. Their track record is piss poor and Bashar Serov doesn't trust 'em worth a damn."

"Well, thank the good Bashar for us, will you Lieutenant?" Staedele asked with a smile, "Given what they tried to pull with their stupid smear campaign, they can go rot in a hole."

"You never told me what happened there, boss." Johnson took a glass of water from the desk, "Wasn't it from that conference in Washington?"

"Yeah, in between training and launching for Antallos." Staedele shook his head, "I was invited to an informal PMC thing. It stank of some sort of fundraising event. There were other corporations, big players in the PMC space here on Earth, and in the center of it all was Erik Prince. I was glad there were some ISA folks there. I think Bashar Scarman was in attendance, probably to get a feel for these guys." He reached for one of the glasses and took a sip, "Anyways, we get funneled into some hotel conference room, where Prince started going on about cornering the market in the Inner Sphere and promoting Earth and the US' interests abroad. He never said 'crusade,' but goddamn if the overtones weren't there."

"I remember reading a report on this." Banderas said, "You two got into a shouting match. You called him out on his shortsighted bullshit and pointed out the immense shortcomings in Earth's PMCs. None of them had ever operated as a fully independent unit, completely detatched from host nation support. That's before we even get into interstellar and interplanetary combat. Bashar Scarman deigned to join in, but rest assured he was not impressed. I don't know if you're aware, but Bashar Serov was a mercenary before he became military, and reports of their conduct made their way to his eyes. If I remember his words exactly, 'These fuckin' guys want to tangle with proper mercs? My old wing would blast 'em from the sky before they made planet-fall, just to make sure we don't get shot in the back.' He knows what reputation means in your business Major, and he trusts your company and you."

"I know, Lieutenant. The PR campaign that Blackwater tried to wage after the conference didn't go well for them. If they want to try and get an ISA contract, they can certainly try, but I don't think you folks are too receptive to his offers."

"Not in the slightest, sir. Anyway, you have an idea of your force composition for the contract?"

"I was going to recommend three companies, boss." Johnson rejoined the conversation, "We can work out the specifics, but mostly inf with a single 'mech company to scare off potential attackers."

"That sounds fine." Staedele finished his water, "We can hammer out the details: who to send, what equipment we'll need, etcetera. Now, you two are dismissed. I have paperwork to finish and then I gotta pick up Esther from school."

---

Malakitona State Industries Orbital Drydock 3

High Cradle Orbit

Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

1 May 862 AS

"ISV Kitsune to Cradle Command Station. Request permission to disembark."

"Cradle Command to ISV Kitsune, you are clear to disembark on the transmitted heading. Good luck."

Malakitona State Industries first 'civilian' spec JumpShip, the ISV Kitsune, left her drydock for the first shakedown run. MSI's extensive shipbuilding expertise helped get a functional experimental JumpShip built and space worthy in short order. The proposed Trickster-class of JumpShip was a bit larger than the Inner Sphere's largest JumpShips and was much more heavily armed. MSI had deemed it pragmatic to give the vessel enough firepower to fend off a small pirate fleet by itself. A variety of mass drivers, missile launchers, anti-capitol ship torpedoes, and pulse lasers were fitted to cover the vessel from all angles. Advances in rail gun design pioneered on Earth were upscaled to the mass drivers on the broadsides of the Trickster-class. Artificial Gravity fields were installed to provide sure footing to its passengers, crew, and cargo. A spinally mounted large driver was deemed unnecessary in a 'civilian' vessel, as modularity was more important. Most importantly, the primitive Kearny-Fuchida drive was ditched for the ISA's own proven inter-universal design. Over Inner Sphere design, range for the vessel in a single jump over tripled and charge times reduced by seventy-five percent. Of course, this was all in theory, but they were confident in its success.

"We've already told Earth we're coming, right?" MSI CEO Iago McGuire asked the comms officer from the command seat. He wanted to be in command for the ship's shakedown run.

"Earth Defense Headquarters has been informed." Comms replied, "Estimated emergence point has been transmitted. They're expecting us in the next week."

"Helm take us out. Comms, let them know to expect us in three days. We're just as quick as a naval vessel when it comes to jumps."

The crew carried out their orders. Beside him, a holo-image of his COO materialized.

"Why do you insist on commanding the shakedown cruise of every new vessel?" Iva Bodrogi was clearly annoyed, "The navy is more than capable of conducting these runs."

"I put my money where my mouth is, love." McGuire responded with a wink, "Can't trust anyone else with this, except you of course."

She rolled her eyes, "You're gonna end up killed one of these days."

"Hasn't happened yet." He knocked on the wood paneling on his command chair.

"Yet being the key word."

"We'll be fine, don't worry."

"Well, I do take over the company if you croak, so…"

"Hey." He gave her a sideways look, "I'm not dead, nor am I going to die."

"Just try not to, yeah?" Her image disappeared from the bridge.

He sighed and looked to his view screen. The jump point was closing…

---

Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters

Low Earth Orbit

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

4 May 2007/862 AS

"You have an eye on their jump point?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're due to arrive any minute."

Captain Tyra Croft watched the sensors station closely. The ISV Kitsune was due to arrive soon, and they wanted to be sure they survived the trip. As she was used to, MSI was quick to produce a JumpShip for testing. Their experience in spaceborne ship manufacture put them far ahead of any of Earth's companies, some of whom had just laid the keels of their own experimental vessels. Representatives from Lockheed Martin, BAE Systems, and Mikoyan were among a few of the companies closely watching this event. They wanted to see what the ISA's most skilled shipbuilders were capable of.

The next moment, the sensors officer jumped from their seat.

"Ma'am! We have a jump signature! Sol point, just off axis!" they called.

"Is it them?" she asked.

"Hold on, we're cleaning up the EM interference." The holographic image of the ship was fuzzy for a couple seconds before it cleared up, "Is that thing a civilian ship?"

"Knowing McGuire, it's multipurpose." She looked to comms, "Open a channel."

"Earth Orbital HQ, this is the ISV Kitsune." A familiar voice called, "We have arrived. Charging for secondary test. Over."

"Confirmed, ISV Kitsune." The Comms officer responded, "You're clear to proceed. Over."

"Secondary test?" The Lockheed Martin rep asked, "What secondary test?"

"Hold on." Croft silenced them, "They're about to-"

The Kitsune disappeared off sensors, only to reappear not a moment later in high Earth orbit.

"Der'mo…" the Mikoyan rep breathed.

"Kitsune to Earth Orbital HQ." McGuire's voice full of smugness, "Second test complete. We're here."

"Earth Orbital HQ to ISV Kitsune. Confirmed. You're clear to dock at Docking Collar five. Over."

"Roger that, Earth Orbital HQ. ISV Kitsune over and out." McGuire's voice disappeared from the airwaves.

"He loves to show off." Croft smiled as she shook her head, "Hasn't changed a damn bit."

"We have to compete with that?" the BAE rep asked.

"You've spurred on McGuire's competitive spirit." Croft replied, "I wish you good luck, everyone. You're going to need it."

---

Forward Operating Base Tripoli

Sea of Despair

Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space

18 May 3022/2007/862 AS

"Welcome to FOB Tripoli." Bob announced as he and 'Remus Lupin' hopped out of his company's flatbed truck.

"Fob Tripoli?" Remus repeated inquisitively to his nominal boss as he looked around. The ISA built a new base right in the middle of the desert not too far from Port Kirin. Despite its relatively recent construction, it looked already weathered from the wind and sand. It was centered around a prominent rocky peak that poked above the desert sand. They had built a hardened structure on top covered in some kind of communications gear, surrounded by more hardened structures and hidden fighting positions. It even had its own fence line. Practically a base within the base.

It was an interesting setup. It drew Remus'… curiosity.

"FOB stands for 'Forward Opera Base' or something like that," Bob answered. He may have been a greedy sack of scum, but he proved to be a font of information to Remus, "'Tripoli' is the name of some historical victory against some pirates or something. Does it matter?"

"I guess not." Remus shrugged, "But what are we doing here? I thought we were going to dig up more 'mechs?"

"Right." Bob nodded sagely, "You haven't been on one of these digs out yonder. Okay, these ISA dicks got all these rules and regulations, right? Anyway, they like to run all the dig teams through a central checkpoint to make sure everyone's on the up and up. It's like they don't trust us not to nick stuff. Can you believe that?"

Remus could, but it would be impolitic to say so. Instead of reply, he opted to look around some more. In the parking complex, he noted several trucks and 'mech escorts from rival salvage operations present on the field.

"They run everyone through here?"

"Yeah." Bob shielded his eyes from the harsh light, "Sometimes, like now, they like to pull everyone in at once, give everyone a location to dig, then send us on our merry way. Then we call come back and show them what we dug up. If they see anything they like, they tag it and pay us to fix it up. If they see something they really like, they'll take it off our hands then and there and pay us a finder's fee with no dicking about."

"So, we're heading in there?" Remus pointed at the base in the base.

"Nah. ISA people only. Don't know what they do in there. Don't care much either."

"Huh." Remus mused. The location of this base didn't make much sense for supporting salvage operations. What were the ISA hiding in there?

---

"Ma'am, we've found one."

"One what?"

"A black box. This is a black box."

"Wait. A black box? An FTL transceiver?"

"Yes."

"This was tagged as a fax machine. Are you sure?"

"As a heart attack. We managed to find the user's manual for the thing. What kind of fax machine needs the full output of a small fusion reactor?"

"I'll be. Add that to the HPG and Nighthawk armor we've found. This base is turning out to be a hell of a find."

---

Office of the Systems Security Service

First Combined Army Headquarters

22 May 862 AS/2007

"How recent is this?" Fleet Captain Maeda asked.

"Hours old, Captain."

"Gods…" She breathed as she read over the report. Hundreds of civilians gunned down in Hermantown with more examples to be made as their new dictator refused the latest proposed aid packages, sending their people further into destitution. She glanced up at the officer who brought her the news.

"You're dismissed." The young officer gave a snappy salute and left in haste. She gave a mental command to her office. Her door locked and her shades went down. The holo-imagers jumped to light and before her appeared Bashar Superior Thomas Serov. He stood before her, his back to her.

"Bashar, I assume you've seen the report." She stated.

"Oh yeah, Mari. This is some grade-A horseshit these fucks are shoveling down our throats." Serov turned to face her holding a tablet, "I've just sent Davis the news, and I'm sure our good Supreme Bashar will know sooner rather than later."

"We have to respond, sir."

"There will be a response, a hell of a response. They're already probing our outer defenses, looking for weaknesses." Serov sat and stroked his chin, "I wasn't planning on working on the other City-States for another few months. Port Kirin is just barely livable by our standards. The people have food and shelter, but that's goddamn bare minimum. Our Urban Renewal projects aren't even close to done!"

"I know, sir." Maeda nodded, "Still, we can't sit idly by while massacres occur against civilians on what will be our planet. What will our response be?"

"We play it smart, Mari. We have some solid wetwork teams we can use to destabilize the regimes of the City-States, but that won't be enough. We have the troops, but I don't think we have the bandwidth to properly police six cities in such a short amount of time."

"We let them come to us." Maeda tapped on her computer and brought up an image of the skirmish zones, "These places are where they attempted to attack us. We've repulsed them, but it took a little more effort than we would have liked. I say we feign weakness and let them come to us."

"Whittle 'em down…" Serov smirked, "I like it. They're spreading themselves out now to try to neutralize our orbital advantage, but that won't be enough." His smirk turned to an evil grin, "I think we break out the bombers."

"Will that be necessary?"

"Necessary? Maybe not. A massive show of force? Hell yeah. They've been massing ne'er do wells for the past few months. I think we cut 'em down and let them know that the kid gloves are off."

"Are we paving parking lots, sir?"

"Wholesale, Fleet Captain."

---

Forward Operating Base Gladstone

Sea of Despair

10 June 2007/3022/862 AS

In medias res was the perfect place for a reporter. Barry Wise, recently transferred to Antallos, stood a good distance away from the dunes that marked the battlefield. He already had plenty of experience from the Invasion of Earth of the destructive capability of the BattleTech universe and the ISA's own weaponry. His cameraman was struggling to capture all the explosions, movement, and sizzling air from his vantage point, but the display was dazzling. The forces attacking Port Kirin were stronger than the forces which attempted to combat the ISA months previous. They were better organized, better equipped, and much more aware of the capabilities of their opponent. Despite this, the ISA's battlefield superiority was being shown off in overwhelming displays of firepower. The clear skies signaled death for those below, as missiles and other ordinance came from orbit and the aerospace fighters and bombers that roamed the air for targets. The desert was the perfect place to show off the improved 'running battle' capabilities of the ISA's armor, their tanks and vehicles taking shots while at full speed.

The enemy on the field, while taking withering fire, were still up and moving forward. Inner Sphere 'mechs were still resilient, and their better understanding of the ISA's methods of warfare allowed them to survive better than their predecessors. His cameraman zoomed in on a towering assault 'mech taking multiple shots from the ISA's Ix tanks, vehicles flanking it to defend from any closing opponents. The next thing the camera saw was a shower of gunfire from a gunship kilometers away, burying the 'mech in a mountain of metal and explosions.

Barry turned to the camera as it swung back to him, "We still don't know which of the other city-states sent these forces, but they are apparently moving steadily under the constant fire of the ISA's guns. We are here with the ISA's First Combined Army to witness their attempt to repulse these attackers. If we look here," the camera swung to white streaks in the sky, "the skies are still contested, and the unknown force is attempting to spread themselves out to avoid the effective massed firepower of the ISA. They are trying to probe the perimeter, looking for a way into the city."

"Hey!" shouted someone from out of frame. The camera swung to an ISA soldier, their battle-dressed body closing on the pair, "We need you to get back!"

"We're not giving away data, Sergeant." Wise responded, "This is a pre-tape segment."

"Don't matter. We're pulling the media back. This place is about to heat up."

Wise nodded and gasped as he looked at what approached from the ISA lines. He motioned for his cameraman to swing around. Sixteen BattleMechs approached, spread out over a kilometer. Behind them maneuvered an armored battalion, their tanks and IFVs maneuvered to the flanks. The massive quad-legged 'mechs marched forward with purpose, their massive shoulder-mounted cannons fired on the enemy kilometers away. The ISA's 'mech order of battle were very similar to their vehicle tactics: mobile fire platforms that also had the added benefit of drawing fire. One of the quad-legged 'mech jumped forward, it's jump jets carried it into the sky for a moment before it landed a couple hundred meters away.

"Viewers, this is our first look at the Kartikeya BattleMech, the ISA's first manufactured 'mechs." Wise narrated as his camera followed their advance, "Four legs, jump jets, these beasts of battle first proved themselves in the initial liberation of Port Kirin, and now a full battalion of them are closing on the enemies of the ISA." The camera continued to follow the action. An enemy Catapult attempted to backpedal away from the advancing Kartikeyas, it fired its sixty LRMs to try and deter the seemingly inevitable advance. The arm-mounted pulse lasers reached out to the offending explosives, many fell harmlessly from the sky as they were intercepted by the blue photons. Supporting Valkyries and Vindicators let loose their own volleys to slow them but found similar results. A few LRMs managed to make it through the photonic cloud, only to explode harmlessly against the invisible barriers of the Kartikeyas. For their trouble, each enemy 'mech was greeted with multiple rail gun slugs, disabling or destroying each of the offenders in short order.

His camera swung back to him. Wise took a breath to steady himself.

"Over the past few months, a massive number of pilgrims, mercenaries, and merchants have been flooding Antallos. Raids, sabotage, and insurgent activity have risen steadily across the planet, save Port Kirin itself. This conflict is one that many deemed inevitable, right from the moment the ISA wrested control of Port Kirin away from its former Administrator Vorax. It is only in recent days that open warfare returned to the planet. Many have speculated the exact spark that set the planet alight once again, but most point to the Hermantown Massacre. Slaves and the destitute took to the streets of Hermantown to urge the city's despot to accept the ISA's aid. They were gunned down by the hundreds, their families executed as an example to the rest of the city-state. In the words of Hermantown's new Generalissimo 'Dreadlocks' Dee, and I quote, 'Now there's food enough for everyone.' It was shortly thereafter that skirmishes between ISA patrols and unknown assailants lit up the desert. While it's unknown who fired the first shot or where it happened, it is clear now that the ISA can no longer afford to ignore the mounting threat of the city-states once again."

The camera zoomed in on an explosion in the sky before it settled back on Wise's face, "All across Antallos, the other city-states are putting up fierce resistance, with an unexpected reserve of men and fighting machines. While they don't understand the sheer industrial capacity of the worlds they are opposing, it is clear that the ISA wants to achieve a quick victory here to avoid getting bogged down in a quagmire on a planetary scale. Will the clear advantages of the ISA's military and technological might win the day, or will the city-states drag this on and draw the ISA into a costly war? One thing's for certain, this will be not be the last battle we see on Antallos. For CNN, I'm Barry Wise. Back to the studio."

---

Bridge, ISV Stilgar

Low Antallos Orbit

"Fucking parking lots." Serov muttered to himself as he watched the holo-image of the battle in real time. His authorization to unleash the bombers had a terrifying effect on the enemy. Any slight concentration of enemy force was shattered with aerospace power. Massive ordinance not used in years had been authorized to bring the City-States to heel, and their effect was immediate. Formations that were once 'mechs and vehicles were reduced to scrap. Single bombs would eradicate any poor soul that was caught in the blast. His eyes darted to the aerial battle, where swarms of Fedaykins swatted down their Inner Sphere counterparts with terrifying efficiency. His eyes wandered back to his own forces as the first full Kartikeya battalion pressed forward into the enemy's advance, harvesting the opposing 'mechs and vehicles in an impressive display of firepower.

He understood that this was day one of this battle, and like the others it would not be an easy one. The enemy would run to ground and attempt more covert means of attack: torching fields and killing civilians within the walls of Port Kirin itself. The Triple-S would handle that bit of business. Dozens of would-be saboteurs were captured in the preceding weeks, and many ratted out their compatriots after exposure to the ISA isolation chambers. Advanced mental interrogation techniques were only employed under the most extreme circumstances, but a potential insurgency required the use of such methods to break the back of their enemy.

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from the Free Azami. They wish to enter the fray." His comms officer reported.

"No." Serov responded simply, "I'm not going to have a military force not under our command to enter combat."

"Sending the response." Comms glanced at their display, "Sir, transmission from Bashars Nagato and Norrington."

"Put them through." Serov nodded. Nagato Yuki and James Norrington appeared on his bridge.

"Tommy, boy, we're putting a right thrashing on them." Norrington noted with a cup of tea, "Shall we try rounding some of them up?"

"The City-States must understand we mean business." Serov shook his head, "We continue the battle as is, no deep deployments."

"Serov," Nagato glanced at him, "we have the opportunity to gather more intelligence about the composition of their forces."

"I know, Yuki, but I want day one to send them a message: We're not fucking around anymore."

"I don't think that total annihilation will be conducive to our ultimate goal." Nagato motioned to the view screen which displayed Antallos, "We need to know what we're dealing with. They've obviously managed to amass a large force in a short amount of time right under our noses."

"I see your point, but we need to make sure our message is heard loud and clear." Serov sighed, "I'll permit some deep deployments to nab some important folks. Maybe try and behead Hermantown, given they're the goddamn spark in this tinder pile."

"Thank you, Bashar." Nagato nodded, "Excuse me, but I must coordinate with Davis and his First Battalion." She gave a short bow and disappeared from Serov's bridge.

Norrington looked at the spot Nagato occupied a moment before, "She made a good point, Tommy." He pointed with his tea.

"Her glare should be a classified as a goddamn super weapon." Serov turned his attention back to the holo-image of the battle, "I'm still going to pave some parking lots, Jimmy."

"I know. We'll keep them on the back foot, old friend."

---

First Battalion 'Mech Hanger

First Combined Army Complex

13 June 862 AS/2007/3022

Day three of the battle. City-State forces predictably ran to ground after their attempts at open warfare against the ISA. Open fighting in the desert turned to pop-up engagements around hardened terrain. The bombing campaign carried out in the first two days delivered hundreds of souls from the realm of the living to the glassed sand 'parking lots' that dotted the battlefield. Now the enemy limited their exposure to minutes of fire from prepared positions. The message from Serov's relentless bombing sorties was clear: If you're in the open, you've never existed.

The evolution of the battle to these short engagements was what Bashar Nagato Yuki foresaw. She thought that Serov was impulsive to unleash the bombers, but it did have a favorable effect on the enemy. They were on the run and off balance. Nagato had some questions for the architects of this aggression, and this was what she was planet-side for today.

This mission was already discussed with General Davis and was cleared by Bashar Serov. All that was needed was her personal touch and assurance that the team selected knew what they were doing.

In the hanger she stood alone as she waited for the team to arrive. She had not yet a chance to formally meet some of the Inner Sphere and Earth-born members of the ISA and she wanted to measure them up and ensure they were up for the task.

The first to arrive were the leaders of two of the most accomplished BattleMech companies: Captain Natalie Rosswood and Captain Burgess Hale. Both had been promoted after their company leader Major Tony Dansel had been promoted up to a battalion command. With his promotion, the pilots in his company were deemed ready for their own commands. Burgess Hale managed to achieve his old rank as Captain and was granted his own company. Captain Natalie Rosswood was granted her own company as well, with her co-pilot Lieutenant Commander Jacob Morgan operating as a liaison for both companies with the ISA.

In followed the rest of the pilots of Able and Bravo companies, most notable their seconds in command: First Lieutenants Brox and Lee Jankowicz. With the expansion of the Foreign Legion 'Mech Battalion, both companies needed experienced 'mech pilots to help train the new blood and maintain order within the relatively new battalion. Their new pilots all came with ISA-assigned copilots, and their training over the past few months had been extensive and grueling. Commander Simeonov of the First Combined Army's Heavy Metal Battalion had helped Dansel train the new pilots and weed out the chaff. Now the Legion was one of their most potent 'mech forces on the planet.

Able and Bravo companies saluted Nagato as they arrived before her. She returned the salute and motioned for them to be at ease.

"Everyone, to the holo-table, please." Nagato motioned to a nearby table. It was alight with the orbital image of Hermantown, marked with relevant points from previous reconnaissance missions from their operators in the initial invasion, "Before we get started, I would like to introduce myself to those who may have not met me before. I am Bashar Nagato Yuki, Commanding Officer of the ISV Chani and your immediate superior on this mission. I don't need to emphasize the importance of this sortie, but we need to know who is coordinating the City-States against Port Kirin and how much more they have in terms of resources. The ultimate objective is the capture of Generalissimo 'Dreadlocks' Dee and any information in their care."

The holo-image zoomed in on the Hermantown Palace.

"This is where we think Dee has cooped themselves up. This palace is the most defensible point in the city, built into the side of a small mountain. We think it is a former fortress from the Star League era and we anticipate hardened defense points and an experienced personal guard. This is where you come in."

The map shifted to a complex on the edge of Hermantown.

"Your target: A hardened militia compound on the outskirts of the city. Your Battlemasters will have the task of breaking this and drawing as much attention as possible. We will deploy you here, five kilometers outside the compound. You, in concert with air support and orbital platforms, will seize this location and pave the way for a small detachment of vehicles and infantry to seize the location. After the seizure of the base, you will hold until we confirm that Dee has been captured and then you will withdraw."

"Wait," Jankowicz was confused, "why aren't we breaking the doors down and capturing the boss?"

"You are equipped with eighty-five-ton BattleMechs, not the optimal vehicles for urban combat." Nagato replied, "Seizure of the target and relevant information in the palace will be handled by Rainbow."

"Who the hell is-"

"That's us, mano." Behind Jankowicz and the other members of Able and Bravo emerged the troopers of Rainbow Six, Earth's premier counterterrorist team. Colonel Domingo 'Ding' Chavez lead his men to the holo-table, dispersing themselves between the members of Able and Bravo, "Sorry, Bashar. We got held up by Davis. Wrapped that up five minutes ago. We miss anything critical?"

"Nothing you don't already know, Colonel." Nagato shook her head, "Your kit sorted?"

"Of course, ma'am. We're ready for an aerial insertion." Chavez replied.

"Able, Bravo companies, pay attention. In the event you need to breech the city and provide support to Rainbow, you'll need to know their mission plan." Nagato nodded to Chavez.

"Okay, listen up people." Chavez zoomed the image in on the palace, "We're dropping in two Baliset transports. Team One will drop Sam and Mike on this tower with Pete and Freddy for support. Team Two will drop Dieter and Homer on this tower with Vega and Eddie for support. With sniper fire and heavy weapons, they'll secure the courtyard and provide fire support for the duration of the deployment. Louis and I will lead the rest of Teams One and Two into the palace itself. We'll take the roof, and Louis takes the ground. We clear the building of hostiles and retrieve the target. They should be here, in the 'throne room.'"

Chavez paused a moment and looked at the MechWarriors around him.

"Now, if shit gets a little hairier than we think we can handle, we'll call for your people to provide some support. Hopefully a couple of you guys can load up into one of your Balisets and drop in here, outside the walls. We'll have some explosives set to make a hole for you if we need it. We will have gunners in the Balisets to call on, but that might draw a bit of unwanted attention. We want to be as quick and quiet as possible. You guys keep their eyes on you, and we'll handle the rest."

"Any questions?" Nagato looked over the assembled soldiers for a raised hand. One emerged from the back.

"Ma'am, close air support. What are we looking at?" one of the newer members of Able company asked.

"Eagle Squadron will be assigned to your airspace. Your comms will have the relevant frequencies preprogramed before you deploy." Nagato replied.

"We get a double ace?" Chavez noted, "Jesus Christ, the air'll be clearer than the Rockies."

"That is the idea, Colonel." Nagato nodded "Before you all deploy, Eagle will be there to clear the airspace and ensure air superiority. If they launch aerospace craft to try and interdict, they will handle them."

"What of the infantry and vehicle support?" Lieutenant Brox asked, his velvety voice carried through the hanger, "How long after we engage can we expect them?"

"Moments, Brox." Nagato zoomed the table back on the complex on the edge of town, "When you engage, they will deploy a kilometer behind your position. You can expect plenty of fire support." Nagato looked around, "Any more questions?" Smattered shakes of heads were the response, "Study the mission plan, get your equipment prepared. You sortie tomorrow."

---

First Combined Army Headquarters

Serov was called planet-side to help defuse a potential situation with the Free Azami Army and his own forces on the ground. From what he understood, his refusal to include them in the opening moments of the City-States attack did not go over well.

"You are mock us?" Captain Qabil bin Murwon, leader of the Tepseet Terrors Mercenary Company and member of the Free Azami Army stared incredulously at the Bashar.

"Captain," Serov began, "armed conflict on Antallos and any other territory governed by the Independent Systems Alliance goes through us. I am in overall command, and I said no."

The young Azami snarled and motioned for his sword. Serov had his pistol drawn under the desk. A calm hand on Murwon's shoulders held him back.

"Cowardice." Murwon spat, "You have more than enough forces to seize this planet entirely. If you're incapable of protecting yourselves from mere criminal scum, then we will cleanse this filth for you."

"Let me ask you something, Qabil bin Murwon." Serov surreptitiously holstered his side arm, "Do you have a plan for how to administer multiple cities? How do you feed them all? How do you get them all clean water? How will you provide power to the population? How do you move their literal shit to clean it? How will you police such a large swath of land? Our own efforts here in Port Kirin are already taking a while. I have estimates of sufficient capacity for food, water, power, and sewage within the year for Port Kirin. We've managed to stamp out most major crime in the city, and we've kept the population safe. We don't rule through fear, Murwon. We believe in the essential right of freedom for all people. If you are trying to simply replace one regime of fear and oppression with another, we're going to have a problem. We'd end up having to fight you in the end and trust me, you don't want that."

"Might be interesting to see you try." Murwon bared his teeth.

"Have you fought an interstellar war before, Captain? I have. The ISA has. Don't overstep, son. We've been at this for a while."

"Enough." Mullah Hajji Chalid Al Aznar held up his hand, "Bashar Serov, these other cities will prove little trouble. We have experience in these things. Shortage of people for defense and management is not a problem. I have already sent word for more volunteers. Trust me, they will come."

"Those cities don't have the infrastructure to support even more people, Mullah." Serov shook his head. He felt like he spoke to a wall, "We're not gonna displace folks. That's not an option. Infrastructure takes time, and if we grab all of the City-States at once, we're going to have an administrative nightmare. We were lucky with Port Kirin. We could build off an existing sewage and water system left since the Star League era. We've rebuilt and repurposed at least fifty-percent of the city to make it harder for smugglers and other ne'er do wells to conduct their business. We have six months until all major projects are complete. The other cities would take less time if Port Kirin is fully operational. If we take them now, that timetable balloons to years. You tell me, Mullah, you want to deal with that shit?"

Al Aznar stroked his beard, "You make very compelling points, Bashar. What if we hold off our offensive until the projects in Port Kirin are complete? You said six months, correct?"

"Yep. Until then, you and your people are more than welcome to remain in Port Kirin. Hell, we'd be willing to help you build a new section of the city for your expanding population."

"Would we get access to the same utilities as the rest of Port Kirin?" Al Aznar asked.

"Without question. As long as you abide by the laws of the ISA, provide a majority of the labor, and coordinate with the Civilian Administration Office, we would have no problems hooking you into the grid."

"Then it is agreed." Mullah Al Aznar clapped his hands together, "We will provide our forces for the eventual expulsion of the tyrannical City-States in six months, and you will provide the infrastructure for our population to live in the city."

"We work together, we thrive together." Serov extended his hand, "In time, Earth will be open to you and the Hajj can be done by all of your faith."

Al Aznar shook his hand, "I look forward to the day, Bashar."

---

Fifty Kilometers Outside Hermantown

Free Zones

14 June 3022/2007/862 AS

Brox checked his equipment one more time. He had grown to know every bit of his Battlemaster since the initial invasion of Port Kirin. The rotary rail gun was probably his favorite modification the ISA made to the 'mech. He had used it to great effect to reach out and touch his enemies in the way only a gauss-type rifle could. He had seen the effectiveness of gauss rifles during his training with his Ghost Bear sibko, but his time in the Inner Sphere had somewhat dampened his memory of the destructive capabilities of the weapon. With the ISA, the memories came flooding back as he used the rail gun on the battlefield. He checked the ammo feed system, then moved on to the pulse lasers in the chest. These were just as deadly as he remembered. They sliced through armor with more efficiency than any Inner Sphere laser could hope to match. Last, he checked the missile pod. The ISA's missiles were more deadly than even the Clans were able to produce. Their improved guidance packages allowed for much longer-range engagements and flexibility, able to switch to close range fighting on the fly.

His copilot, Second Lieutenant Alice Deniaud, watched him as he checked the last pieces: the shield emitter and the target designator. She was recently assigned to Brox as a copilot, one of the Foreign Legion who looked to sign up with an outfit that didn't swindle its soldiers and actually gave a shit. She knew her superior was a stickler for detail, but she appreciated that. The Lieutenant knew the 'mech inside and out, and she made sure to study the man to try and emulate his prowess in battle. Up until now, she had only been in simulated combat, but now was her first real mission and she was determined to show him and the rest of the ISA that she was worth the investment they put into her.

"Deniaud," Brox called her over, "did you check the information cluster?"

"Yes, sir." She climbed into the exposed copilot's seat, "All systems optimal, and we've got a clean feed from the CIC."

"Good." Brox climbed into the pilot's seat above her, "We will be dropping soon. Remember your training, and you will be fine."

"Yes, sir." She nodded as the armored cockpit closed around them. She sat in silence as the cockpit began its start-up sequence. She stared at her screen as more systems came online. Her eyes darted around the operations area, the real-time feed from the recon drones and the orbital platforms showed the activity of the base they were about to assault. The specs on the screen milled about from post to post, unaware of the violence to be inflicted upon them.

"Able and Bravo companies," a voice came over their comms, "prepare to drop. T-minus five minutes."

"Confirmed, Command." Brox acknowledged, "Bravo Company, status."

"Bravo Five, Second Platoon up."

"Bravo Nine, Third Platoon up."

"Bravo Thirteen, Fourth Platoon up."

"Bravo One, First Platoon up." Brox checked his instrumentation, "Alright, company, form up on me when we are on the ground. Advance in a standard fire support pattern and check your targets. Good luck."

---

Hermantown Militia Base

A militia soldier took a drag of his cigarette as he gazed into the desert night. He was lucky, he didn't get sent out to fight against Port Kirin like some of his comrades. Generalissimo Dee had been adamant about 'sticking it to those pompous fucks' and attacked with the support of the other City-States. He saw it as another in a long line of battles Antallos had experienced over the years, but this one, just the same as the attempted attack earlier in the year, was different. Their enemy had completely overwhelmed them in the opening days, and now they were stuck playing guerilla against a much superior opponent.

He didn't really care. He knew it would be over soon, and they would go back to the relative normal of enslavement and smuggling Antallos was infamous for. He flicked his cigarette out of the bunker's firing slit, its cheap tobacco spent. His eyes saw a faint shimmer just over the night's horizon. He nudged his bunker-mate, the other man napped as he kept watch. The other man barely shook himself into consciousness when the first round cracked through the makeshift concrete and erased both men from existence.

Fire rained from the skies as every hardened position in the base found itself bathed in an explosive firestorm. Guns from the ground were joined by steel and particles from above. In the base, militia soldiers rushed to any defensible position and what vehicles remained to try and fight off the invaders. A tank crew managed to get to their Brutus tank and even started the engines only to be quickly dispatched by a shot from the ground. A Cicada ran forward to meet the enemy. They were quickly cut down, a leg blown clean off by another weapon round. As their enemy drew closer, the militia saw what they fought: eight Battlemaster 'mechs with vehicles close behind. They called Hermantown for air support. They hoped that their aerospace fighters would help them hold the base against the invaders.

A tank company emerged from their depot. A Manticore, Marsden, Demolisher, and Bulldog drove clear of the depot right before another shot from the skies demolished their departure point. The tank crews willed their vehicles forward to meet the enemy, their weapons fired as the Battlemasters closed the distance. The Manticore managed to fire its particle cannon and long-range missiles, the weapons finding their mark in the nearest 'mech. To the crew's horror, the Battlemaster shrugged off its weapons and responded with their own. Rounds and lasers bit into the Manticore, armor stripped off until the Battlemaster's missiles detonated in the exposed structure and took the Manticore out of the fight. The Marsden took cover behind the broken husk of the Manticore and opened up with its AC5. The gunner kept their sights locked on the lead Battlemaster and hammered it steadily while its shots impacted uselessly on the dilapidated Manticore. For their trouble, missiles came from the skies to silence the Marsden.

The Demolisher and Bulldog maneuvered around the base and took what shots they could behind what cover was left. Militia infantry attempted support the tanks with their anti-armor weapons, but it was no use. Coordinated, accurate fire cut down any infantry that launched an AT weapon. The Demolisher managed to get in close enough to one of the 'mechs to fire its massive dual AC20 cannons. Both shots were true and exploded on the Battlemaster. To its dismay, the Demolisher's target stepped through the smoke and savaged the tank with its array of weapons. Not out of the fight yet, the Demolisher unleashed one more volley on the approaching 'mech, the Bulldog supported it with its laser and missiles. The Battlemaster took the fire all across its armor and scarred it, but it kept upright. It advanced menacingly forward, dispatching the wounded Demolisher in a hail of lasers and missiles, while the last tank in the company attempted to beat a hasty retreat. The vehicles flanking the 'mechs didn't let it get far, and the last effective resistance of the base was silenced for good.

In a matter of a couple of hours, the last bastions of resistance fell silent, and the Militia base was seized by the enemy.

---

Above Hermantown Palace

Rainbow Six, also known as Colonel Domingo Chavez, watched the satellite feed of the battle, if it could even be called that. It was more watching an NFL team crash headfirst into Pop Warner kids. It was a slaughter, but in favor of the good guys and by God could he live with that. The assault on the base drove the entire city into high alert, with whatever spare men and machinery roused from their slumber into the fray. His eyes tracked what looked like men and vehicles being loaded up in the Palace courtyard and sent to repel the attackers. That was his cue.

In his transport, he did one last equipment check and nodded to his men.

"Time to drop."

Team One prepared themselves in the drop doors, weapons slung, comms clear. Their helmet's heads-up-displays rendered all sorts of relevant information, most important the countdown to their drop.

Five.

"Sam, Mike, you're on point."

Four.

"Pete, Freddy, mow 'em down."

Three.

"Louis, you be ready to kick in the front door."

Two.

"Let's kick some ass, guys."

One.

The doors below them opened, and Team One of Rainbow dropped to their pre-determined points. From a thousand meters up, each man fell to the surface, guided by their HUD waypoints and shifted back and forth by wind and their jump jets. Ding felt like Iron Man, encased in armor and guided to the ground with jump jets. All he needed was an arc reactor and laser beams in his hands and it would be complete. Below, more militia and vehicles rushed to the seized base which cleared the way for their assault on the palace.

Moments later, the first elements of Rainbow landed on the Palace walls. Quickly and quietly, what sentries remained on the walls were dispatched. Ding and Louis' elements landed on the roof and in the courtyard respectively. Louis' element silenced the last of the apparent defenders with the steady puff of suppressed weapons fire.

"Wall site Alpha clear."

"Wall site Bravo clear."

"Courtyard clear."

"Roger." Ding confirmed, "Wall elements, hold position and take targets as they come. Louis, sync on me. We breech on my go."

"D'accord, Chavez." Louis confirmed.

Ding motioned for his element to hook in their rappelling gear. Each man complied and hooked into solid parts of the roof edge. With quiet efficiency, two troopers set an explosive charge around one of the windows. Ding positioned himself above, ready to repel within.

"Team One, Team Two, GO!"

The window below him disappeared into the room within in a loud bang. Ding swung himself into the hole, weapon ready, senses tense. He landed gracefully as he leveled his rifle at the nearest conscious person. They had their hands up, huddled in a corner. He swept the room then slung his rifle and quickly bound them with restraints.

"Clear!" Ding yelled over comms.

The rest of his element came through the window, and he heard the distinct sounds of weapons fire from downstairs.

"Let's go, guys. By the numbers, room by room."

---

Generalissimo Dreadlocks Dee had their desk turned over and their pistol leveled at the door. Someone was breaking in, probably to kill them. They knew now that the attack on the base was simply a diversion, a smokescreen to obscure the real objective of killing them in their palace. The biggest question in their mind was who. The ISA was the most obvious choice, they had helped organize the attack on Port Kirin, but that would be far too difficult. To cross so much terrain on such short notice would be near impossible, and even the new big wigs in Port Kirin knew not to spread themselves too thin else the other despots think it's open again.

Then again, the ISA had displayed an impressive ability to do things that were thought impossible. Spooky fighters, spooky DropShips, spooky 'mechs, reports from the field made it seem like they were fighting ghosts. Even when they saw them, they couldn't get any solid sensor readings on their equipment. The only thing they knew for sure was that these people at Port Kirin could do the impossible and the forces of the city states paid the price. Again.

They heard bangs and screaming outside. Dee knew that whoever came for them was close. The militia left in the palace were few, and it was only a matter of time before they barged through the door. Another bang. Closer.

Shit. They're not gonna get me before I take a few of 'em with me!

Bang. This time accompanied by weapons fire.

Suppressed weapons. Fuckin' assholes wanna be ghosts? I'll send 'em to hell where they belong!

Bang. A man's yell accompanied by a snap to silence. They listened close, maybe they could hear the footfalls of these people as they got to the door. They gripped their pistol tighter.

The crack of an explosion broke the silence and sent their door flying into the room. They were deafened, but they began to unload their magazine into the doorway. As they yelled and fired, Dee noticed an object fly into the room. It landed right in front of their desk.

In that moment, their whole world turned white.

---

"Go! Go! Go!" Chavez and his team stormed the room. He jumped over the desk, kicked the pistol away from the prone figure, and quickly restrained them. They had their target.

"Six to Rainbow. Package secure." Chavez called.

"Nearly done with the basement, Six." Louis responded, "What do we do with the civilians?"

"Take 'em to the courtyard. Paddy, get your charges prepped. When we leave, I want this palace to be rubble. Rest of Rainbow, sweep the building for equipment and intel."

Element One dispersed to collect information in the compound. Chavez lifted the desk back upright and searched the scattered papers. Anything with the most remote chance of being crucial was coming with his team, so he just started bagging paperwork. The rest of Rainbow did similarly, only a few carried bound civilians out to the courtyard. It was clean, no noncombatant casualties, but these people were scared out of their minds. Men in black armor coming from the skies and destroyed all that stood before them. Unlike the missions in cities on Earth, there wasn't a crowd of grateful police and civilians waiting in the wings. In their place was distant combat from beyond the city and terrified people bound by monsters from the sky.

His team bagged papers upon papers, heavy electronics, weapons, everything that was of possible operational value. In the courtyard, there was just enough space to land a Baliset, so one did. Rainbow loaded up their pilfered gains into the transport, sideyed by the wary bound civilians. Computers, relics from foregone eras, were the first aboard, stowed and secured in the multitude of racks on each side of the spacious cargo bay. Bags of papers soon followed, along with seized weapons. Louis Loiselle, leader of Team Two, oversaw the troopers who carried out their duties. Some of them attended to the civilians, gave them some water as they waited for these men in black to finish their work.

It took some time, but in a matter of a couple of hours their work was complete. The palace was barren of everything they thought important and the site was prepped to blow. Rainbow troopers took the civilians and placed them within the walls of the palace to shield them from the blast. They left behind some of their former oppressors' weapons, knives, food, and water. They had a feeling that the militia were going to be vengeful on the way back, and it felt wrong to leave them with no way to defend themselves. With no fanfare, the men in black left the palace in their transport. Just moments after they lifted off, the palace erupted in a series of explosions. What was once the governing building of the City-State of Hermantown was a reduced to rubble, an ashen funeral pyre for those foolish enough to attack the Independent Systems Alliance.

---

Systems Security Service Internment Facility

First Combined Army Headquarters

16 June 3022/862 AS/2007

Former Generalissimo 'Dreadlocks' Dee was led into a nondescript room, bag over their head. A decidedly low-tech method to isolate them from their surroundings, but effective nonetheless. They felt themselves ushered to sit. They complied, knowing full well what noncompliance in the Inner Sphere brought. They were ready for torture, it was not unfamiliar to them, but this particular situation was. They had never faced an opponent so capable in their time on Antallos. No pirate, mercenary, Periphery or even House power had dared flex such might so precisely. They were soundly defeated, and now they awaited their fate.

The bag was removed from Dee's head and their restraints were removed. Their eyes took a moment to adjust to see the person before them. A young woman sat across from them, her hazel eyes pierced their soul. She pushed a cup of liquid towards them.

"Please, drink." She said as she took a sip of her own cup.

"The fuck you want with me?" Dee spat, refusing the liquid.

"I wanted to begin this process more diplomatically, Dee." She shook her head and took another sip, "What we want is information, Generalissimo. If what you provide is useful, you are free to live in relative comfort."

"If I refuse?"

"You will experience our isolation chambers."

"Fuckin' torture?" Dee laughed, "Bring it on, pussy! I won't break!" Dee grabbed the cup of liquid and hurled it at the woman's face. Impossibly, she caught the cup centimeters from her face. Dee was pissed. They lunged across the table. They were going to teach this bitch the meaning of messing with Dreadlocks Dee.

She deftly deflected the attempt, redirecting the gorilla's hands away from her face and slammed their head into the table. They tried to break free of her grip, but she wouldn't budge. A hand rested firmly on their head and their hands were effectively restrained by her other hand.

"Dee, you try that again and rest assured that you will spend much longer in an isolation chamber than your mind can take." She grabbed their head and threw them back in their chair.

"Fuck you!"

"An absolute savage." She shook her head and looked at the pair of soldiers in the room with them, "Give them an hour in an isolation chamber. Ensure they are properly restrained. Dee, I hope you will be more cooperative soon." With near impossible speed, she was behind them. Her arms locked them in a blood choke and before they knew it, the world disappeared once again.

---

Bashar Serov watched the whole altercation from his office in the First Combined Army Headquarters. He figured that 'Dreadlocks' wouldn't be amenable in their first interrogation, but it did allow him a reminder of what Yuki was physically capable of again. He smiled wide when she slammed that bastard tried to lunge at her. Everyone who's tried to engage her in unarmed combat had emerged on the clearly losing side, save for a few people and all of them were in the ISA.

He thought that an hour stint in an isolation chamber was a bit harsh, but he understood her methods. If they were reasonable, amenable, the isolation chamber wouldn't be necessary. The chamber had its risks. Extended periods within could break even the most stalwart of souls and transform a rabid pirate into a shriveled, sniveling mess. That is not what they wanted. They wanted to break down resistance enough that extended imprisonment in the chambers wouldn't be necessary.

He thought back to the creation of the isolation chamber technology. Technology seized in their campaign against a trans-universal force, it was originally designed as a torture device to ensure the loyalty of that depraved empire's soldiers. The ISA retooled and repurposed the technology for interrogation and only in the most extreme circumstances. With their advanced medical technology, the ISA were able to ensure that their methods did not go too far and leave the subject an incoherent, broken mess. Sensory isolation, directed neural pulses, and a proprietary mental temporal acceleration method helped keep the use of the chambers under control, but it was still a controversial method even within the ISA.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime from his door.

"Enter."

Nagato Yuki stepped into his office and greeted with a crisp salute. Serov nodded a motioned for her to take a seat.

"Congrats on a smooth op, Yuki." Serov gave a grin, "Surgical, and knowing you I expected nothing less."

"Of course." Yuki replied and sat down, "We removed the largest threat in that hole of villainy, and Hermantown will be licking its wounds for the next few months. The other City-States will be put on notice, much more than when you deployed the bombers to the battlefield."

Serov's eye twitched at that statement. He understood that the bombers were a bit of overkill, but he still sent a clear message. He shook off the jab.

"Now, the waiting game. An hour in an isolation chamber." He brought up a holographic image of the foiled saboteurs, "Each of these people only needed five to ten minutes in a chamber. Why did you put Dee in for an hour?"

"They are similar to the Brotherhood we fought against a decade ago." Nagato explained, "Violent, quick to anger, and used to winning. From previous analysis and experience of people like them, I thought it appropriate to expose them to an hour of a chamber. I do not know if they will remain loyal to whatever deluded cause they invented for themselves, but there is more than enough time for their self-reflection."

"Self-reflection to breed cooperation?" Serov asked as he changed the image to Dee's isolation chamber.

"The worst thing we could grant them is absolute solitude within their own mind for what seems to be an age. No need to simulate pain or relive a traumatic experience with all of their memories of the previous loops intact."

"Gods, Yuki, you can be awful cruel when you want to be."

"Considering what the Brotherhood did to us, I would say it is an equivalent exchange."

"They're not Brotherhood, Yuki." Serov reminded her, "New universe, new enemies. We're not fighting a monolithic threat, love."

"Don't call me that." Nagato glared at him.

Serov raised his hands in defeat, "Point taken. What else do you have?"

"More operations, this time against the other City-States." Yuki changed the holo-imager, "Rainbow proved their worth here, and their expertise…"

---

Dee awoke in the interrogation room with a start. The dream, if it could be called that, was sheer absolute terror. They were left floating in a void for what felt like an eternity. They were acutely aware of their body, but they could hear nothing, see nothing, and say nothing. For that eternity they were lost in their own thoughts. They tried to scream for hours and hours, but nothing. No sound, no light, they could only feel their body struggle, and that provided no relief. In the dream, they switched from screaming to simply counting the seconds as they passed. When they passed the eighty-six-thousand mark, they realized that they couldn't sleep. They had been conscious in the dream for at least a day. They couldn't control anything. All that was left was retreating within, into their own mind to pass the time. It was a hell that they had never experienced before.

After some time, they lost count of the days, they awoke in the interrogation room again. They struggled to refocus their eyes on their surroundings, having seen nothing for an era. Before them once again was that young woman, the one who had deftly put them back in their place and sent them to the hell they had just awoken from.

"Wh… at…" Dee struggled to form words.

"Welcome back." She greeted, "I hope the hour in the isolation chamber mellowed your mood."

That wasn't right. They had only been dreaming for an hour? How?

"Dee, I hope to come to an understanding. We can send you back in, locking you away in the blank void again, or you can start talking."

"I… I don't…" Dee refocused, "How the hell was I asleep for only an hour?"

"The isolation chamber, Dee. We can send you back for another two weeks in your own mind, locked away from sight and sound. That takes an hour of real time, so it is no real inconvenience to us."

Two weeks… they thought, I spent two weeks in that void…

She watched as Dee turned over the prospect of returning to the void.

"It is your choice. You can return to the void forevermore, unable to rest for whatever time remains for you in this mortal coil, or you can cooperate and provide us the information we seek and you will never have to see that void ever again." She pushed a cup of liquid towards them.

Dee looked at their hands. They were shaking. They took a breath to steady themselves, "What do you want to know?"

---

Office of the Systems Security Service

17 June 862 AS/2007/3022

Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda looked over the piles and piles of information seized from the Hermantown raid. The electronic information was easy enough to parse through, neatly categorized by their virtual intelligence systems. The papers were taking a little longer than she liked, but even their impressive computational capabilities were limited by the speed of scanning all the documents.

What they were able to glean from the current information was disturbing. Hermantown had received assistance from off-world, and whoever fronted the equipment hid their tracks very well. They managed to evade the watchful eye of the Orbital Network. The equipment provided was all relatively common Inner Sphere tech, except for a few items that stuck out to her. A Pillager assault 'mech, a Thunder Hawk assault 'mech, a Shadow Hawk land-air 'mech, and an Ostscout light 'mech. These 'mechs were delivered in mint condition and each City-State was delivered a similar package, all of them received an Ostscout.

This revelation disturbed Maeda. Dedicated recon assets were deployed, all with the intent to get information about the composition of the ISA forces. She knew immediately who would have the resources and capability to send out such 'care packages.'

Her office began to transform. Her blinds sealed, her door locked, her desk blinked incessantly at her until finally an audio clip played.

"Priority Transmission. Security Protocols Engaged."

She stood up as a holo-image of Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman appeared before her. She saluted as the man paced to the door and paced back.

"At ease, Maeda." Scarman instructed, "You've read the initial intelligence report, yes?"

"Yes, Bashar." Maeda nodded, "ComStar is moving faster than we anticipated."

"This is off, Captain. Very off. They should know our capabilities by now, and to have them send blatant military aid to these City-States? They're not idiots, they know these people don't stand a chance."

"It is their MO, Bashar. They prop up proxy wars in order to keep everyone at a suitable technology level to prepare for the rise of the Star League again."

Scarman shook his head, "They're giving these people pristine 'mechs to little or no avail. They can't think providing these miscreants equipment will hinder us in any meaningful way."

"Given the Ostscouts given to all the City-States, I'd say they want information." Maeda brought up an image of the Ostscout, "While giving 'mechs is a considerable investment, they still don't know how capable our technology is. They may have some suspicions of stealth technology, so in their position they would want to know if there was any way to detect us."

"Compelling point, Captain. Hmm…" Scarman lost himself in thought a moment. ComStar had to be behind this, but this wasn't quite right. Wasn't there a militant faction forming in the organization about this time?

"Bashar?" Maeda snapped him back to reality.

"Sorry, Captain. I just had a thought. What do you know about Precentor Myndo Waterly?"

"Precentor Dieron?" Maeda asked, "I know of her current position within the First Circuit and her eventual rise to Primus after the death of the current Primus Julian Tiepolo. Of course, with our presence in the timeline, events will change."

"Obviously, but would you consider it possible that Waterly shifted some resources to spark this brushfire on Antallos?"

"That's more in line with Waterly than Tiepolo…" A spark of intuition struck Maeda, "Wait, Waterly is considered a martyr by the Word of Blake. Oh shit."

"Our presence here has accelerated events. The Word may form much earlier than after the Clan invasion."

"We have advanced technology that ComStar would think a threat to galactic 'stability,' whatever stability still exists. Us as the center of attention may push Waterly into the Primus' seat sooner, triggering a much more militant ComStar…"

"Exactly." Scarman sat down, "We can outgun them for now, but there may come a time where the Com Guard decides to engage us in open warfare. We only have access to the tap the HPG on Antallos. If we could get access to Dieron, get access to the First Circuit proper, we could have a much better idea of what they're up to."

"Forgive me, sir, but aren't we already stretched thin in terms of intelligence operations?"

"Unfortunately." Scarman sighed, "The cruiser Gaius Helen Mohiam has recently returned, giving us options, but they are still assisting the former Star League folks in reacclimating to the universe at large."

"Well, may I make the obvious recommendation, sir?"

"Go ahead." Scarman leaned back.

"As soon as we can, we send the Mohiam to Dieron. We infiltrate the HPG facility, establish a presence on world to watch them and the Combine."

"I'll speak to the Supreme Bashar about this." Scarman stroked his chin, "I think we could make this move under a proper cover…"

---

Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters

Low Earth Orbit

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

23 June 3022/862 AS/2007

The once International Space Station bustled with life. Military personnel, civilian contractors, politicians, and now former Star League Defense Force members went about the station on their business. The former SLDF members were amazed by the orbital platform. Gravity without rotating rings, spacious living quarters, everything pointed to a highly advanced flourishing interstellar empire, a people not plagued by the strife of their era. Ai took notice of the presence of gravity, her mobile interface not reliant on the magnetic feet of the unit. Colonel Jason Carter was introduced to General David Mathews, commanding officer of the space station. Carter and his command staff were shown around and told the story of this planet, Earth. From what General Mathews divulged, this planet was recently thrust onto the galactic stage. With the assistance of the ISA and the technology obtained from the attacks on the world, this planet now projected its power across worlds. According to Mathews, Earth had not yet been brought up to the ISA's technological standard.

Ai, Major Zhi Hu, and Carter were astonished at what was accomplished in such a short amount of time. Just like Columbus, this planet bristled with defenses capable of halting even the most dedicated Star League fleet. Like the Star League, Earth and the ISA possessed a powerful navy capable of enforcing their policy across the stars. This station had a massive hanger bay that housed aerospace craft and DropShips they had seen on Columbus. Their level of standardization was unmatched even during the dizzying height of the Star League Defense Force. They had yet to see Earth and the apparent technological disparity between Earth and the station.

When their tour came to an end, they were left on the observation deck, its impressive windowed dome looked down the world below. They saw the planet covered in lights, teeming with life. The pale blue dot, Terra, a world they never thought they would ever see again, was once again below them. For some, it was the first time. Ai had never seen Terra during her creation. She only knew the world from her databanks. Carter remembered Terra, the jewel of the Star League. This planet, while not the Terra he remembered, was still a world worthy of them. Hu still held some reservations, but to see the world that was the center of humanity humbled them.

As they stared at Earth passing by at eight kilometers a second, a man came to greet them. He wore the signature black and red uniform of the Independent Systems Alliance, except with the red eagle of the ISA surrounded by gold stars. They knew immediately that this man was of great import.

"Well, good to see our new guests are settling in well." He greeted, "Nice to meet you all. Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow, ISA."

Carter saluted, "Colonel Jason Carter, Star League Defense Force."

"Major Zhi Hu, same." Hu followed his superior.

Ai bowed, "The Ark Interface. You may call me Ai."

Merlow reciprocated the salute, "Nice to finally meet some old SLDF in the flesh. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to meet genuine SLDF members, let alone a fully cognizant artificial intelligence." He motioned to the ever-passing Earth, "How are you finding Earth's first proper Orbital Defense Platform?"

"Impressive." Carter replied, "It reminds me of Terra the last time I was on one of its many orbital platforms. It was ten years before my deployment to Columbus. A remarkable similarity."

"Oh, I'm sure." Merlow smiled, "This may not be the world you remember, but I hope you find it agreeable. Welcome home."

"Forgive me, Supreme Bashar," Ai stepped forward, "but how is this even possible? According to all of my scans of this world, this is Terra, but... it seems out of time."

"Ah. Walk with me you three." Merlow motioned them to follow. Ai, Carter, and Hu fell in beside him, "Ever heard of 'Island in the Sea of Time?'"

"An ancient novel from Terra, if my database is correct." Ai replied.

"Well, for the people of Earth, it is not nearly so ancient. Anyways, the scenario they find themselves in is a very similar one: A world cast into another time, perhaps even another universe given the technological differences between yourselves and them."

"Impossible." Carter stated, "How can an entire world be moved without the inhabitants knowing?"

"Well, given we've moved ourselves between universes, what Earth has experienced isn't unfamiliar to us." Merlow shrugged.

"Did you do this?" Hu asked with suspicion.

"We have no reason to, nor do we have the means to do so. To transport early twenty-first century Earth to a war-torn universe in an unstable time makes no strategic sense, and we've looked into what would be required to move the area that was transported, and that is well out of our capabilities."

"Then… how do you know this even happened?" Carter asked.

"Simple mapping and comparing the existing background radiation to what the rest of the universe looks like. It's real telling when about sixty lightyears around Earth matches the area that's supposed to be around it and nothing else does."

"How did you map so many systems so quickly?" Ai questioned.

"Our jump capabilities far exceed that of the Inner Sphere, not to mention our sensors are far more sophisticated. We were able to map out the area around Earth in a matter of months."

"Fascinating." She remarked.

"Now, let's talk about your future work with us…"

---

Coalition of Sovereign Nations Headquarters

New York City, United States of America

27 June 2007/862 AS/3022

International Law. One of the most complex and prickly fields in any intergovernmental endeavor. Most recently, with the induction of almost the entirety of Earth into the Independent Systems Alliance, a new slew of laws and regulations were introduced to the signatory nations that all would have to follow in order to be participants in the ISA. Strict quality of life improvements for the population of all nations; fundamental bill of human rights; upgrades to infrastructure; standardization of military hardware and training; economic regulations; universal suffrage; universal healthcare; all of the laws that the ISA followed had to be adhered by the Coalition of Sovereign Nations within a ten year period. The military efforts were already well underway, as they were a high priority issue and would continue to be until the ISA deemed otherwise, but other laws were taking some time to be implemented.

The largest issue on the table was that of universal basic income and the economic pressures to the high-end of the tax bracket. In Earth's current economic climate, there was already a severe stratification between the 'haves' and the 'have-nots.' Unchecked economic growth coupled with the unbridled pursuit of wealth caused a massive economic gap between the richest and poorest on the planet. This measure would alleviate that, but lobbyists from some of the wealthiest companies on the planet opposed the law. First Councilor Metzli Glass and Earth's Councilor Jack Ryan spent a majority of their day trudging through the political quagmire of near two-hundred nations and their respective lobbyists and representatives to push the implementation of these laws through. These same lobbyists were also not happy with the new economic policies that were set to be implemented. Higher taxes on corporations in order to fund the innumerable infrastructure and quality of life improvements around the world. They were looking to have these laws struck down, threatening legal action among other things if they didn't have their way.

Glass had seen this all before, from the formation of the Independent Systems Alliance decades earlier. The thing they knew that these lobbyists didn't is that the ISA could easily thrive without these companies, these companies simply couldn't live without the ISA. It was a fact that a lawyer representing a consortium headed by Lockheed Martin just didn't comprehend.

"You simply cannot implement these laws as they stand!" He straightened his bowtie for emphasis.

Glass sighed, "We very much can, Mister Ashbury. All of these countries agreed to abide by the laws of the ISA as written, and that includes the companies that reside within."

"If you think this will pass without a fight-"

"Oh, you can try to take us to court, but I don't think that would color your companies in a favorable light when it comes time to license hardware designs."

Ashbury's eyes narrowed, "You think you can threaten us?"

"It's not a threat, it's a fact." Glass motioned to a couple of people behind them, "Iago McGuire and Iva Bodrogi, CEO and COO of Malakitona State Industries, respectively. They head the company that we draw all our designs from. Can Lockheed, BAE, Dassault, or any other company you represent provide better designs than them? If you refuse to play ball, we simply go with what works. MSI is proven to us, your companies have yet to prove anything that matches or exceeds what they already produce."

His eye twitched at that remark. Despite decades of legal experience, Ashbury knew Glass was right. Right now, none of the companies he represented could easily compete with MSI.

"Let me put this bluntly, Mister Ashbury: If your companies don't fight us on the implementation of these laws, laws that are quite fair and benefit everyone, your companies will continue to receive support from the ISA for research and development. Who knows, you may produce an economical design that we just might use in some capacity. If you oppose us, that support goes out the window. Your companies will be cut off from our technological expertise and left to fend for themselves against a juggernaut that has centuries on you. I trust you can relay that to your consortium."

Ashbury simply nodded, stood up, and left. Jack Ryan approached Glass from behind.

"Hell of a play there, Metz. It's like you've dealt with people like that for decades." Ryan smiled.

"It was like this when the ISA first formed, Jack." Glass nodded, "This time, we hold all the cards. It took years of effort, but it's always nice to be able to flex with tangible political and economic power."

Jack took Ashbury's vacated seat, "I suppose I have some learning to do from you."

"You have at least a decade to learn, Jack. Just follow my lead."

---

Guantanamo Bay Internment Facility

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba

6 July 2007/862 AS/3022

"Is my presence really necessary?" Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow asked his companion.

The military leader of the Independent Systems Alliance found himself following an FBI agent into the depths of United States' infamous internment facility, out of the view of the public and the rest of the international community. He held a grim understanding for such a place, out of the public eye to keep certain prisoners for interrogation. Enemy combatants that landed on Earth and refused to cooperate with native forces, those considered too violent and uncooperative were held here for 'enhanced interrogation techniques.' Crude methods: deprivation, water boarding, sonic bombardment, near torture. All of these techniques were used before the ISA's intervention in Earth's affairs, and Merlow was glad to intervene before any of this got out to the rest of the galaxy at large.

"We thought this prisoner seeing a VIP might loosen his lips. He's been less than cooperative, even after previous interrogation attempts." The Agent replied.

Merlow examined the man walking beside him. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, body dressed in a smart, well-fitted black suit. One-hundred-seventy some-odd centimeters tall, sporting a slicked back haircut brought to a widow's peak. FBI Agent Herman Smith, a man who oozed with danger. In another lifetime, perhaps even another universe, this man would have been an operative in a government or organization somewhere, tasked with subjecting enemies of those people to violence and death in order to maintain their hold on a society. In this universe, he was an FBI Agent who worked closely with the CIA and Interpol to bring justice to those who meant to do harm to the United States.

"Agent Smith, I hope none of those interrogations techniques were terribly scarring for the prisoner." Merlow shot him a sideways glance.

"From my knowledge, no Supreme Bashar." Smith replied, still in lockstep.

"Good." Merlow and Smith continued down the concrete hall in silence.

A few moments later, they reached their destination. A heavy steel door, a number plate above, and the obvious observation room just next door. Even as the centuries progressed, some things remained the same. Smith turned to Merlow.

"Now, to adhere to protocol," Smith began, "I have to remind you that everything that occurs in the interrogation room is recorded both visually and audibly. Any evidence recorded is admissible as evidence in a court of law. Also, as you well know, any intelligence we may wring out of him will be unreliable. I advise you cross-check any information we gather from him."

Merlow nodded silently as Smith opened the door to the interrogation room. Within, handcuffed to the steel table secured to the floor, was the prisoner in question. He was quite haggard and wore a bright orange jumpsuit with black numbering on his left chest. His wiry hair was parted slightly off center, and a few days of stubble covered his face. The most notable physical attribute was his lack of his left arm. Merlow thought back to this man's profile: he had lost the arm after a messy ejection in Los Angeles during the Battle for Earth.

"Mister Anderson." Smith greeted as he sat across from him, "I had hoped that our interactions would have ceased, but unfortunately for us both, that just won't be the case."

"Fuck you." Anderson spat back, "I got nothin' to say you assholes."

"The day is young." Smith motioned to Merlow, "I hope you don't mind, we have a visitor today. Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow, this is Thomas Anderson."

"The fuck're you?" Anderson squinted his eyes at Merlow.

"Leader of the Independent Systems Alliance, Mister Anderson." Merlow replied, "I hope you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never heard of you or your pissin' alliance. You can both fuck right off."

"Now now," Smith shook his head, "if you won't cooperate, we can introduce you to a new device our benefactors have given us."

"Fuck you!" Anderson snapped, "Nothin' you do can crack me!"

Merlow sighed, "Five minutes in a chamber, Smith."

"Just five minutes, Bashar?" Smith raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's better if we don't push it." Merlow motioned to the two soldiers who stood in the shadows, "Please escort Mister Anderson to an isolation chamber. Smith and I will remain here.

Thomas Anderson thrashed against the guards, desperate to release himself, but his efforts were in vain. He was dragged off, his voiced echoed down the hall as he continued to yell obscenities at his interviewers.

Smith glanced at Merlow, "What exactly do these new chambers… do?"

"The isolation chamber exposes the subject to… unpleasant stimulus without lasting consequences. We accelerate their mental timeframe and allow them to remain in that simulated state for as long as we deem necessary. A few minutes feel like hours to them, allowing us to gather information quickly."

Smith nodded, "Very interesting. Doesn't seem like the kind of technology that the ISA would invest significant resources into research."

"You're not wrong, Mister Smith. It's a technology we acquired in one of the many universes we've traveled. It was once used as a disciplinary tool by a depraved empire. We've adapted it for humane interrogation methods when the person in question is uncooperative."

Smith and Merlow sat in silence as they waited for their subject to return.

---

Thomas Andreyvich Anderson awoke on concrete. He struggled to his feet as he clutched his broken left arm. His vision was blurry, his stride unsteady. He thought back. What the hell just happened? Crazy-accurate fire from enemies farther away than should be possible forced him to eject from his Cicada. He remembered the intense explosive rattle as they pounded his 'mech over and over again. The ejection was messy: the hydraulics and electronics were mangled by intensity of the explosions. He was lucky he made it out with a busted arm.

He stumbled down a street, pain shooting from his broken arm. He unholstered his pistol. He was surrounded on an unknown world, in an unknown city.

This was supposed to be a fucking milk run! He screamed in his mind, How the hell were these people so goddamn well-armed!?

He wasn't paying attention. A couple of people snuck up on him and struck him from behind. He felt the dull thuds of blunt objects smashing into his body. He crumpled as whoever struck him hit again. His pistol fell uselessly from his good hand as they broke his knees. Anderson screamed. He looked up at his assailants. They were kids. Kids with baseball bats. One of them looked badly burned from head to toe. The other had shrapnel cut deep into their flesh. They hit him again, breaking his ribcage. Anderson tried to scream, but his lungs failed him. Another child joined the two savagely breaking his bones. He glanced in horror. In their small hands was a pair of pliers. That child went to work on his fingers, meticulously binding and breaking each one. He gasped for air, but his vision began to fade as his middle finger broke and the other two children beat his arms and legs. The last thing he remembered was the intense pain of his ring finger as it snapped…

Thomas Andrevich Anderson awoke on the concrete.

---

Merlow gently nudged Anderson's good shoulder as he stood behind him. Anderson screamed as he awoke back in the interrogation room. His head darted around, looking desperately for the children who attacked him for what felt like several lifetimes. Smith cracked a hint of a smile as he watched the panicked man squirm.

"Welcome back, Mister Anderson." Smith greeted nonchalantly, "We missed you."

"I hope you understand the extent of what we can do, Thomas." Merlow stated as he strode back to his seat, "I hope you don't mind if I call you Thomas. We can put you back into that chamber for eternity, and let the dead do what they want with your psyche."

What little color remained in Anderson's face drained away, "Y-ya... ya can't do that…"

"You are sitting before the military leader of the Independent Systems Alliance in a member state of said nation." Merlow motioned to Smith, "What you did to his nation, you did to the ISA. We dictate the terms of your incarceration. If you were a mercenary or military combatant, things may be different, but you are not. Even if you were, your actions in Los Angeles constitutes multiple war crimes and that I cannot abide by. Los Angeles wants your head, California wants your balls. The United States of America wants you as an example of what happens to savage terrorists on their soil. The ISA at large, we want information."

"Bashar Merlow is giving you a choice, Mister Anderson." Smith leaned forward. Anderson's gaunt face reflected off the Agent's sunglasses, "Give us the information we ask of you, and you will live the rest of your days here, never to revisit the isolation chamber ever again. You will even receive small comforts to make your sentence more livable. However, I will stress to you that this is all conditional upon you being completely honest and forthright with information we require and suspect you in possession of. If at any point lie or conceal information from us, then you will find what few comforts we provide stripped away and you will be locked away in an isolation chamber for as long as your psyche can until it is on the verge of snapping. When you stand on the precipice of mental collapse, we will extract you from that hell and throw you back in a barren cell until you are recovered enough to live through that experience again and again. Are we clear on that Mister Anderson?"

Anderson tried several times to swallow the lump that formed in his throat from seeming nothing until he nodded his head in compliance.

"Very good." Smith leaned back in his seat, "Bashar, I understand you have questions for Mister Anderson at this time?"

Merlow nodded, "Now, I understand you were a member of the Black Lightning Raiders, correct?"

"Yeh." Anderson answered tersely.

"I also understand during your tenure with the Raiders, you participated in the raid on Kesai IV. It was also noted that as you described the raid, you mentioned running into the Eighth Syrtis Fusiliers Auxiliary. I want to know how that engagement ended, what happened to the prisoners, and what the aftermath was."

Thomas Andreyvich did not immediately respond. He sat silent for several moments before he fidgeted ever so slightly.

Merlow had decades of human analysis under his belt. He understood body language. It was one of the many tools he had at his disposal to survive and thrive as the military leader of a former wandering nation. How Anderson fidgeted, how he avoided eye contact, the man had something to hide.

"How you spend your life here is entirely dependent on your cooperation." Smith interjected with neutral menace, "I suggest you tell us what you know and do so in a timely manner."

Anderson sat silent, his mind churned what Merlow wanted and balanced it against the life that awaited him after this.

"We're waiting." Merlow scratched his chin.

"Well…" Anderson began, "I was in the raid, like I told yas. Me and the Raiders dropped onto Kesai and we tore the place up." A hint of pride crept into his voice, "We ran into a battalion of them Fusiliers and whooped 'em good I tell ya. We hads 'em running every which way and-"

"I'm already aware of how that action proceeded." Merlow interrupted, "I want to know about the aftermath. What happened after the battle concluded?"

"Yeh, sure. Ye see, we whooped a lot of ass that day, walked a fair few number of 'mechs off that field. The Lady paid us well for the leaders we nabbed that day."

Merlow was confused. He understood that in this universe, the 'mechs were valued much higher than the people that piloted them. 'Save the Metal' was the phrase bandied about by nearly every pirate, mercenary, and even military that fought on the field of battle. Why would a pirate place such value on live enemy leadership?

"This 'Lady' paid you well for the officers captured?"

"Yeh." Anderson replied. He grinned just enough to show his teeth, "The Lady loves it when we get her prisoners. She paid us more for them than 'mechs, 'specially if they look like they might know things."

She paid more for prisoners than 'mechs? Merlow understood that was not how this universe worked. Here, life was cheap. 'Mechs weren't. No Inner Sphere leader would ever pay more for prisoners than for good salvage, except in extenuating circumstances. Some low-level officers in the Inner Sphere shouldn't amount for more than 'mechs.

"This... Lady," Smith interjected, "Who is she? Does she have a name, or is she simply called 'The Lady'?"

"Oh, she's got a name alright." Anderson's tone was somewhat pleased, "Star Captain Anya Rosse is what she goes by."

Merlow and Smith glanced at one another. That was a Clan rank.

"Captain Anya Rosse?" Smith asked, voice as measured as ever.

"Nah, Star Captain Anya Rosse." Anderson corrected the FBI Agent, "She ain't a captain, she's a Star Captain. She and her inner circle are quite insistent 'bout it. Weird, right? But, shit, I met people with weirder titles and shit… Met a guy out of Oberon once who called himself the High Exalted Grand Poobah of the Royal Water Buffalos. Compared to him and a few others, Star Captain is kinda normal. Though, Rosse is kinda crazy if you believe the stories."

"Stories?" Merlow was intrigued.

"Yeh, crazy shit." Anderson lowered his voice to a whisper with a huge grin on his face, "Apparently she has visions. At least, that's what I heard."

"Visions." Smith stated.

"Oh yeh. Heard from a bunch 'o guys who hooked up with the Raiders before me that she has these fuckin' insane visions and dreams. One of the best stories they told me was that the Raiders were all set to hit this world up on the Rasalhague District's border near the Lyrans. It was a sweet little mining world, barely any defenses, and according to the rumor mill the miners had dug up a whole asston of gold."

Humanity doesn't change. Merlow thought to himself. Precious metals and other valuables were always in demand, no matter the universe. Humanity's obsession with rare mineral resources only increase with technology that is reliant on them. It made perfect sense that this would be a prime target for pirates.

"Now, 'bout an hour before the jump, word comes down that the attack is cancelled, and the Raiders are gonna move to hit a Lyran world just over the border instead. Now this don't sit well with most of the Raiders and people start talkin' mutiny. 'Course, that don't last long once the Star Captain heard. She had a dozen of the would-be-mutineers spaced and that shut everybody up quick. Anyways, after this the Raiders hit the Lyran world instead and they make out like bandits, yadda yadda yadda. Now, couple months later they hear that the world the Raiders were supposed to hit, that one on the Drac side, got raided by one of the groups out of Oberon days after the Raiders turned away. At first everybody's pissed on account that some other fucks had gotten the gold. Turns out that some Combine big shot named Ricol had spread the rumor and had a fuckton of hardware and troops ready to kill whoever showed up. The guys out of Oberon got slaughtered, least that's what I heard."

Merlow nodded. It was a tried and true tactic, to lure out a threat then neutralize it not only to eliminate the danger but also to send a message to anyone that had a notion of hostility against you: We can and will destroy you. Ruthlessness, like anything else, was a tool to be utilized. The ISA just preferred other methods… most of the time.

"Okay, here's the weird part: After everyone heart 'bout that, someone overheard one of Rosse's main guys talkin'. Apparently, she gots this vision the night before where she saw folks gettin' killed by a bunch of red arrows and shit. From what I heard, this Ricol guy is called 'The Red Duke' and 'The Red Hunter' 'cause of his personal crest. It's this dude with a bow and arrow all red."

Predictive analytics? Merlow thought to himself, No, the images are too metaphorical. Actual psychic ability? Last time we encountered that was a legitimate alien race, and they were comically powerful…

Smith remained stoic, "Mister Anderson, you mean to tell us that this Star Captain Rosse called off the raid because she had this… vision? That she somehow foresaw the future?"

"Crazy shit, right?" Anderson replied matter-of-factly, "I thought so too, but then I wound up here."

"She predicted this outcome." Merlow stated flatly, "She had another metaphorical vision of destruction and steered clear."

"Right on the money." Anderson stretched out, "See, we were doin' all fine and dandy raidin' between the Lyrans, Dracs, and a couple of hits into Oberon. Next thing we know, she decides to pack up and ship us all out to the Drac-Outword-Fed Sun border. We had a good thing goin'. My best guess is that she had another vision and thought 'fuck, gotta head out.' This was all well and good, but when Vorax started recruitin' for the raid on Motherlode, she wanted no part in it. Is why you don't see more Black Lightning in your cells. Some of the guys said that she had this vision of dropships disappearin' in bright flashes and a red eagle flyin' outta nowhere."

Merlow leaned back and studied the man, his posture, his body language, how he spoke of his story. Despite the incredible tale, there was no indication that this man was lying. His ocular implants picked up no signs of increased perspiration or quickness of breath. All things pointed to Anderson telling them the truth as he knew it.

"So, why did you decide to participate?" Smith asked.

"Got greedy." Anderson shrugged sheepishly, "I'm not one of the Raider's vets, not by them. Only been with 'em a year. Guys who put stock in what I though bullshit were the vets, people who been 'round the block in the Raiders for couple years. Me and most the newer guys, we thought it was all bullshit. Kinda stuff you tell newbies to keep 'em in line, put the fear of God in 'em, that kinda thing. I didn't know that shit was true!"

"What happens with the prisoners?" Merlow cut back in, "Did she sell them off on Antallos or some other world, make some money off them as slaves?"

"Ha!" Anderson burst out a laugh, "Nah, that ain't the Star Captain's style. She don't sell slaves. Guys I ran with, we had a pool goin' on what she was gon' do with 'em, but we never bet on sale. Last time a few guys tried that, she had 'em executed in front of everybody. Wasn't pretty."

"So, she doesn't sell them. What does she do with them?" Merlow asked, "You can't keep them all on a ship, not for too long."

Anderson leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, "Rumor is she takes 'em all back to Ayatori."

Smith and Merlow paused, processing the information. Smith broke the silence.

"Ayatori? Is this a place or a person?"

"According to scuttlebutt it's the Star Captain's HQ."

---

White House Situation Room

Washington DC, United States of America

8 July 2007/862 AS

"So, where exactly is this place? Ayatori, was it?" President Jack Ryan rested his head in his hand as he leaned forward on the conference table.

"That's a damn good question, Jack." Merlow took a sip of coffee, "We have zero intel on a planet or base called Ayatori in your provided source material or in our own scouting of the galaxy at large."

"Makes things a bit difficult." Director of Central Intelligence Ed Foley interjected, "All we have is that this place is somewhere in the Periphery and that it's this Star Captain Anya Rosse's base of operations. Not much to go on."

"Rosse is a Clan name." The holographic image of Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman noted beside Merlow, "Blood name, one of Clan Nova Cat. Name of one of the Khans, if the source material is right."

"Not surprising that the Clans would have competing intelligence operations in the Inner Sphere." Merlow commented, "Competition and combat are their way of life."

"That's true, but the source material only noted Wolf's Dragoons as their Inner Sphere intelligence operation." Foley replied, "That operation is effectively dead, if the source books are to be believed."

"So, what, you think this is the Clan's second attempt?" Ryan asked.

"We don't have enough to go on to make any sort of reasonable analysis." Foley shrugged.

"From what Anderson said, the Black Lightning Raiders operate on a cell basis." Scarman noted, "The only ones who go to Ayatori are members of her inner circle and those permanently stationed on her DropShip, Blazing Cat, and her JumpShip, Cheshire. Names are a bit on the nose, but the Clans aren't known for their subtlety."

"She's good." Mary Pat, Deputy Director of Operations interjected, "Keeps the players close and protected, while hiring any muscle she may need. She can keep her head down and absorb any losses handed out to her, keeping her operational integrity intact. Also, given the Inner Sphere's complete lack of knowledge on the Clans, the names of the vessels would simply be 'cat themed,' divorced of their association from Clan Nova Cat."

"What else have we learned?" Ryan asked.

"The questioning of Anderson and other former Black Lightning Raiders has proven decently fruitful in terms of operational capacity and some of the players involved." Mary Pat continued, "We've managed to get a rough picture of the Black Lightning Raiders' operational structure, military strength, members of the inner circle, and hardware used by said inner circle. From what we've gathered, the Raiders combat strength is estimated to be about a reinforced BT battalion, with a mishmash of 'mechs, vehicles, and aerospace craft. It's what we've come to expect from any typical Inner Sphere combat unit. Now the inner circle, that's where things get a little interesting."

The table's holo-imagers came alive and displayed a page in front of each person at the table.

"Before you are what we've compiled on the Black Lightning Raiders' inner circle. Now, keep in mind, this information is from a gaggle of imprisoned pirates, so it may be unreliable. However, given the new technologies, the prisoner's isolation from one another, and their corroborating stories, we have reason to believe that what we've compiled is as accurate as these people know. Now, from what we've gathered, the names of Rosse's four main lieutenants are as follows: a man named Rodrigo; a man named Hector; a woman named Eva Khatib; and a man named Adar Djerassi. All four are often referred to as 'Star Commander,' a Clan rank from the source books. The prisoners insist that Rodrigo and Hector were never referred to by last name, while Khatib and Djerassi are both blood names found in the source books. Khatib is a name found from Clan Cloud Cobra while Djerassi is from within Clan Goliath Scorpion. How Rosse's personal combat unit is organized also lines up with how the Clans would organize a unit: A Clan Trinary, composed of three Stars of 'mechs, totaling fifteen 'mechs."

Ed picked up where Mary Pat left off, "During a few of the interrogation session, we showed the former Raiders pictures, artistic renders, and game figures of various 'mechs." The holo-images in front of each of them changed to a series of models of 'mechs, "The good news is that they didn't identify any Clan 'mechs amongst the hardware Rosse is using."

"But?" Ryan sensed the bad news was coming.

"They identified several designs incredibly rare within the Inner Sphere." Ed concluded, "We conducted several interviews, mixing, matching, and randomizing the 'mechs shown during each session. Before each of us are models of the 'mechs repeatedly identified by the interviewees. Of the 'mechs identified, they got most of the names right, but they had issues with the weapon systems for each 'mech. This is understandable given that many of the systems deployed on these platforms are considered 'lostech' in the Inner Sphere."

"Give us a rundown." Merlow insisted.

"Rosse was said to pilot a Spartan." Mary Pat enlarged the image of the eighty-ton assault 'mech, "The other 'mechs of note are: the Shootist; the Hussar; the Exterminator; the Shogun; the Crockett; the Crab; the Firefly; and the Excalibur. Other 'mechs identified were more common designs. The rarity of these identified 'mechs raises concern. According to the source material, these models aren't prevalent outside of ComStar's hidden stockpiles. The exception are the Firefly and the Shogun, but that is even more concerning given that these designs weren't seen back in Inner Sphere space until the appearance of Wolf's Dragoons in 3005."

"Given the accuracy of the Source Material so far, it would seem prudent to trust it." Scarman noted, "We have found the Helm Memory Core and the New Dallas Memory Core following their guidance."

"What about ComStar or one of the Successor States?" Ryan stroked his chin, "Could they be behind the Raiders?"

"Given ComStar's MO, I don't think so." Ed replied, "What we've seen on Antallos is the exception, not the rule. ComStar utilizes their operatives to suppress scientific advance and keep the Houses at war with one another. From what the interviewees have given us, I would hazard that they wouldn't invest so extensively in a pirate group like this, not a roving band they would have serious problems controlling."

"If I may, Ed," Scarman interjected, "I disagree with you there. It may not be how the current Primus of ComStar operates, but a militant member of the organization would have fewer qualms about supporting a group like the Raiders. Myndo Waterly, currently Precentor Dieron, may have no problem propping up a pirate brand."

"One which utilizes Clan ranks and Clan military organization." Ed reminded him, "Also, the Raiders predate our arrival on the galactic stage. From what we know, ComStar hadn't conducted any operations like this until our arrival."

"So, what should we do?" Ryan asked.

"We gather more intel." Mary Pat replied, "We follow ComStar's news reports, just like we did with the Soviets in the Cold War. They have the most extensive news network in the Inner Sphere. Though most of it is ComStar propaganda and drivel, they still report on happenings in the Inner Sphere. If any reports of pirate attacks come in, we flag them. We keep our ears to the ground, and log what we hear."

"We are also working on a plan to keep a better eye on ComStar." Scarman noted, "We have a plan in place to get eyes on the First Circuit and see if we can get a handle on their strategic-level planning. We'll keep you in the loop, Councilor Ryan."

"Please do." Ryan leaned back, "What of the Successor States? Have we gotten a better read from the Combine diplomatic staff, are the FedSuns finalizing a diplomatic team, and what of the rest of the powers in the area?"

Scarman changed the holo-images to Combine diplomatic documents, "The Combine staff were 'appalled' by the use of nuclear weapons in defense of Earth. Not surprising, given the Ares Conventions. They have a proposal to establish a permanent embassy on Cradle. I think we can convince them to use our labor for the construction project, allowing us to get eyes and ears inside. The FedSuns have yet to finalize any sort of diplomatic overtures. I'm sure Hanse Davion has something up his sleeve, so we're keeping watch on that front. ComStar has sent messages to administer any HPG stations we have in our space. We have none, and we don't want any ComStar personnel on an ISA core world, so no regardless. There have been some rumblings about possible LOKI activity. The Lyrans have maintained good operational security, so we may not know what they have planned until they attempt execution."

The room was silent for a few moments. There had been some issue with the Draconis Combine having established the first diplomatic line with the ISA. The Civilian Council's decision to direct them to Cradle had been calculated. Earth was not quite ready to have outsiders on her soil, and Cradle despite its relative infancy was much better suited to watch the actions of the Combine ambassadorial team. Even now, with the Combine diplomatic team headed back to Antallos, they were under the watchful eye of the Systems Security Service. News of the use of nuclear weapons would reach the ears of the Coordinator, but that mattered little. What was of greater import would be word of Cradle, its impregnability, and that the ISA would not be swayed to the clutches of the Draconis Combine.

The Federated Suns were a more interesting concern. Despite the overt moves made by their mortal enemy to woo the ISA, there had been little word of a counter play. They understood that Hanse Davion was a bit more diplomatically savvy than Takashi Kurita and that any diplomatic overtures would be more calculated, more nuanced. The Combine sought to brute force their way into the ISA's good graces with a Jenner factory. Whatever House Davion had up its sleeve would not draw them into a bidding war for favor but would exercise the immense soft power the Federated Suns possessed.

The Lyrans were even harder to read. With no formal approaches from Tharkad, the SSS couldn't identify their interest in them. While distant, the Lyran Commonwealth could not ignore the rise of a new power in the Periphery. Whether they would pursue diplomacy or force remained to be seen.

ComStar, the ancient pseudo-religious order, had already made moves against the ISA. What they did not realize is the expertise of their new opponent. There was still an air of underestimation from how ComStar had conducted their previous operations, and the ISA planned to respond with precision unmatched in the Inner Sphere. Their reckoning was coming, it was only a matter of how and when the ISA would strike.

"If there's nothing else, I suggest we get underway." Merlow stated conclusively, "We have work to do."

---

Groom Lake Testing Grounds

Area 51, Nevada

1 August 2007/862 AS/3022

It was an auspicious day for Lockheed Martin and Mikoyan. For the first time in the history of Earth Mikoyan and Lockheed came together to reveal their initial aerospace fighter designs to the major governments of the CSN and the ISA at large. Everyone was eager to see exactly what these two juggernauts in their respective countries defense industries had created since their proclamation of cooperation between themselves and other major defense industry titans. These other companies all had development projects for their own aerospace fighter designs, but only Mikoyan and Lockheed were prepared for the first round of testing.

Gathered to witness the first tests of Earth's first native aerospace fighters were military and civilian representatives from all over the CSN and high-ranking members of the ISA's aerospace procurement office. Everyone was curious to see just how far Earth's companies have come in such a short amount of time.

From two adjacent hangers, a pair of fighters taxied out to the runway. In a control room a couple of kilometers away, the assembled representatives witnessed their first glimpse of these prototypes on the large holo-display. The Lockheed fighter, tentatively called the YF/A-50, took many cues from its predecessor, the F-22 fighters produced by Lockheed Martin and were the only active fifth-generation fighters on the planet. The Mikoyan fighter, tentatively called the MiG-45, looked quite similar to its American counterpart, save for the distinctive cylindrical twin-engine design from the previous MiG-35 and MiG-29. Both fighters looked formidable in their own rights, but the question of whether they could hope to match the venerable F-11 Fedaykin the ISA currently fielded remained to be seen. Behind the pair emerged a fabled Fedaykin, its matte black airframe a proven design over decades of aerospace combat.

The demonstration today was simple: Fly a predetermined course and match the Fedaykin in the air turn for turn. A time trial, pure and simple. Well, simple enough for the Fedaykin. The Y/FA and MiG had yet to test their current specs outside of simulators. The two Earth-made fighters taxied apart to allow the Fedaykin space to take off and set the time for the race. The powerful ISA fighter didn't bother with waiting for its dance partners to part. Massive fusion-jet engines lifted the black airframe above the two experimental craft, and it took off from a vertical take-off. The ISA pilot wanted to remind those gathered exactly what Earth had to live up to. Not to be outdone, both the Lockheed and Mikoyan fighters switched to their VTOL setting and took off after the battle-proven design. They were determined to prove that they had what it took to match their benefactors.

---

Chester W. Nimitz Fleet Drydock

Medium Earth Orbit

10 August 2007/862 AS

At the United States' first drydock, work was proceeding on another project of the Lockheed Consortium: Earth's first domestically produced JumpShip. Despite the impressive showing from Malakitona State Industries three months prior, the engineering minds from all these companies agreed that a smaller, more flexible design was more pragmatic than trying to first build a massive WarShip-sized behemoth. Their current design, tentatively called the United-class, was the size of Leviathan-class JumpShip introduced by the Inner Sphere's Lockheed Galactic six centuries prior. Unlike the Leviathan, the United would be designed for military use in mind. The whole nature of this decidedly hostile universe put forth the necessity of ease of maintenance, weapons capacity, armor, shields, and ample cargo space. Balancing all these factors proved to be more than a bit of a challenge, especially in a smaller hull. MSI's Kitsune-class verged on a WarShip, armed to the teeth and fit for actions in actively hostile space. The United-class was designed for more typical support roles: establishing supply lines and providing freight for both civilian and military customers.

They did have one distinct advantage over MSI's offering: application of new technologies revealed from the Memory Core transmissions from New Dallas and Helm. Endo-Steel was going to be the skeleton of the frame, allowing for more cargo space and less tonnage dedicated to the hull itself. Ferro-Fibrous methodology was being implemented with ISA-specifications for the same purpose. While the initial costs for early investment into this nascent technology was expensive, they hoped the end result would be a steady and reliable source for these materials thanks to the economy of scale. Weapons technology was handled by in-house designers. They were in the process of adapting ISA weaponry to Earth's production lines, and with a local source for their weapons they hoped that would be enough to drive the costs down even further. Transit drives, Earth's variant of the ISA's jump drives, would be at the core of the vessel. With the specifications met, it would jump just as well as the ISA's own ships and cut down travel time by at least two-thirds over existing Inner Sphere JumpShips.

The hull in the drydock was still a few months away from its first test run with drones and workers spread all over for construction, but the design had a lot going for it. The economics of the United-class looked solid, the cargo capacity exceeded that of the Leviathan, and it would be purpose-built to pair with any of the DropShip designs being constructed on Earth. All projections indicated that Earth's 'infantile' space industry would be able to exceed any major Periphery power and perhaps even a few of the Successor States in about two years. All they needed was that time, and for once it was on their side.

---

New Syrtis Shipyards

Medium New Syrtis Orbit

New Syrtis System, Federated Suns Space

21 August 3022

The alarm klaxons blared as the experimental Interconnectedness Unlimited JumpShip Lucretia built up enough charge to jump. Under normal circumstances, this would be of no particular concern. These were not normal circumstances. This jump was conducted in the middle of a shipyard away from any known jump point. The second alert blared after thirty seconds as the attempted jump failed all emergency shutdown procedures. The shipyard's defenses were spun up in an effort to disable or if absolutely necessary destroy the JumpShip to stop the impending disaster.

Moments after the defenses were ready, space twisted around the ship as the KF field attempted to form. The energy twisted and buckled nearby structures. They all gave away under the stresses and tore themselves apart, the debris pummeled the surrounding area. Of the ship that started the catastrophe, no trace remained.

---

Office of Precentor ROM

Hilton Head Complex, Terra

Sol System, ComStar Space

24 August 3022

"…and as near as we can tell, the entire research staff of IU was lost in the event along with their prototypes. The entire shipyard has been completely locked down to the extent that we can't get anyone inside as of yet, but visual observations and information gathered from the workers allowed on site points to generally catastrophic damage. We're specifically increasing our surveillance on NAIS and other likely boltholes in the event this is all a ruse, but my section's confidence is high that nothing of significance left the shipyard before the event." The Demi-Precentor concluded.

Precentor Tojo Jarlath stroked his chin, "While it's a shame we weren't able to recover any of their work, it's better than having the research available to others. A commendation will be entered into the files of your agents for the diligence of their efforts. Report to Demi-Precentor Martes for assignment within the New Earth project."

"Precentor, forgive me, but shouldn't we work to rule out any possibility of subterfuge?"

Jarlath sighed, "I have a missing Explorer Corps ship, an entirely unprecedented lost Periphery colony springing forth from nowhere, large numbers of cats paws to replace, and at least two Successor States that have drastically increased their internal security procedures in recent months. This is on top of the normal workload of seeing Blake's Will done. If the IU ship somehow survived the incident, it will have to acquire provisions in the near future along with significant repairs and our agents will be watching for them. We simply don't have the appropriate resources and I don't want your people running afoul of new security measures they've implemented when we can glean any needed information by means that don't leave us open to discovery. The Peace of Blake be with you."

With that, the Demi-Precentor was dismissed. Hopefully his last statement would help smooth any ruffled feathers. The last thing Jarlath needed was an internal meltdown under his supervision to draw the Primus' ire away from Waterly, especially when he had good news to report. All he needed was an appropriate way to frame the incident…

---

New Syrtis Shipyards, Military Control Zone

Medium New Syrtis Orbit

New Syrtis System, Federated Suns Space

28 August 3022

"Was all this subterfuge really necessary?" Count von Steffelbus asked the hologram.

"Come now my good Count. Playing dumb doesn't suit you. You clearly recognized the dangers associated with the kind of research being conducted in these trying times from the precautions you've already implemented. You even used the defenses of a military shipyard as an additional layer of security. We simply had advance warning of a plot and chose to preempt your own emergency escape plan. You'll be receiving an increase in funding and a guarantee of absolute security. Oh, no mention will be made of the fact that your planned escape would have cost billions in repairs along with countless lives."

---

War Room, Royal Palace

Avalon City, New Avalon

New Avalon System, Federated Suns Space

29 August 3022

"…so as of now we believe we've plugged the worst of the security holes we've been able to identify." Quintus Allard concluded.

"Thank you, Quintus." First Prince Hanse Davion looked about the table, "Now that we've set our own house in order, does anyone have any useful suggestions on how to catch up to the Combine in relation to our latest Periphery sensation?"

"To match a BattleMech factory?" Field Marshal Yvonne Davion shook her head, disgruntled, "There's no way we can hand over one of our own. All of ours are tasked to capacity, and we don't even have the spare capacity in the correct engine ratings to make good on what the Combine didn't hand over. Hell, we can't even find the right person to bribe to tell us what they do want!"

Ardan Sortek chuckled, "Hale turned you down again, didn't he?"

"I don't know what's wrong with the man! We've offered everything short of his own planet and Canopian Pleasure Circus to come back home. I've even tasked Major Davion with making a few more overtures, and it seems that it had the opposite of the desired outcome." A chuckle went around the table, "All right, I'll admit I'm glad to see him stick to his guns, but this new-found moral character isn't helping the Federated Suns at the moment."

Allard shook his head wistfully, "Unfortunately, Yvonne, I rather think that you're making approaches the wrong way and with entirely the wrong person. While I can't say I have any reservations about young Major Davion, his mannerisms and appearance are likely entirely too reminiscent of a certain recently deceased distant relative that Burgess Hale has no reason to remember fondly. However, it has come to my attention that he's been making substantial investments in the ongoing 'Urban Renewal' project. I've also gotten wind of certain items that Hale and the ISA are looking to acquire in quantity."

Yvonne shook her head with a smile, "That is why you're the head of MIIO and I look after the department of what to destroy."

"We each have our specialties. Anyways, Hale and the ISA have been shopping around, looking to bolster their existing armaments. First, they are looking for a reliable source of energy weapons. I've already directed intermediaries to help establish routes along the proper channels. Second is fusion reactors. While the larger cores needed for BattleMechs or tanks are of the highest priority for the ISA, they're also looking for smaller spec cores for their VTOL attack craft."

Hanse Davion's eyes lit up, "And the only working factories of combat reactors of the appropriate size are the Federated Suns and the Lyran Commonwealth. We cut Achernar a deal to sell their lasers at or below cost in the quantities needed by the ISA with an eventual eye towards establishing their own factory on Antallos. Meanwhile, we have NAIS hit the books to look for ways to build a new factory to the specs the ISA require."