Foreword:
First of all, thank you all very much for reading the story so far. I admit that I'm really not used to how this site handles things like updating readers, responses, etc. I would rather not put this in the actual story document, but it seems I either do that or I release an 'update' chapter, and that just doesn't gel with me.
I wanted to put forth an update on the state of the story. As you can see, we've gotten through two years, which is a very long way off from the Fourth Succession War. I've written a lot, but have only gotten so far in the timeline and my detail-oriented self is finding it somewhat difficult to progress at a faster pace. If the pace has slowed in comparison to earlier updates, it is because I had a lot more material prepared beforehand. Rewriting 'Entry with a Bang' has been an experience and I've been trying to include a decent amount of material, incorporate it with my own, and progress the timeline at a decent clip. For those familiar, we are reaching the end of written material and I think this is where it can pick up.
Rest assured, we're not ending this thing on some dream sequence. To be honest, I don't quite know where this whole thing will end.
Once again, thank you all for reading and look forward to future updates.
If you don't like the way the table is set…
Malakitona State Industries Research and Development Facility
Cradle
Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
5 September 862 AS/2007/3022
The ISA spent little time with the production of their own BattleMech. The Kartikeya design first fielded on Antallos was the result of decades of tinkering in the background of inter-universal travel and the final push for the need for a 'mech design on the battlefield right now. Many of its design characteristics considered 'revolutionary' by Inner Sphere standards were common practice in MSI design philosophy: tactical flexibility and platform stability. The 'omni' nature of the 'mechs systems (as was called in the Source Material) was something deemed necessary in all ISA equipment. Despite the initial successes of the Kartikeya design, some problems had emerged.
The weight of the 'mech was currently at the absolute edge of the jump jets installed on the model. This limited their usage in the field. The limb joints were prone to damage due to exposure in the desert environment, requiring more maintenance. The Radar Absorbent Armor Hybrid was also a problem in the desert, also increasing maintenance requirements. The original material composite was rushed into limited production in time for the Antallos invasion and for the first Kartikeya battalion to hit the field, but now was the time to improve it. The recoil compensation systems on the rotary rail gun were good, but not good enough to allow for burst fire at long range. Those systems were also due for an overhaul.
The Memory Cores from Helm and New Dallas also provided new insights into materials and manufacturing methods. Ferro-Fibrous armor, Endo-Steel, Extralight engines, Extended Range energy weapons, Artemis Four fire control systems, the list went on. The manufacture of these materials would be fairly straightforward. MSI's scientists and engineers had no problem replicating the Star League's technology. The question was how do they improve it? How do they take Endo-Steel and resolve the volume increase and brittleness problems? How do they make Ferro-Fibrous armor up to ISA strength and stealth requirements while decreasing volume? Can Extralight engines take up even less space? Much of the research revolved around these revolutions in materials science as the implementation of these methods would allow for greater flexibility in existing and future designs.
Thus, as the scientists and engineers worked toward integrating ISA and Star League technology, new BattleMech designs were already on the drawing board. MSI wanted to create a family of 'mechs, from light to assault class, all based around the initial Kartikeya chassis. They took inspiration from the Clans, as the Timber Wolf had both a medium and assault variant with weapons to match. MSI wanted to take it one step further and develop a light variant to fill the reconnaissance and fast strike capability that the Kartikeya lacked. From this, the 'Gods of War' were devised: the Nergal light 'mech; the Bishamonten medium 'mech; the existing Kartikeya heavy 'mech; and the Inanna assault 'mech. All of these designs would be standardized, with as many shared parts as possible to reduce logistical strain. Each would be capable of being refit in the field as their missions required.
Events at MSI hadn't been exciting for decades, and with actual competition fueling them there would be a flurry of breakthroughs in scientific discovery.
15 September 862 AS/2007/3022
Chief Operations Officer Iva Bodrogi wandered the weapons research labs as she looked for a specific project. She had received word a few days ago of the arrival of some interesting pieces of kit salvaged from Antallos. A few pieces of Nighthawk Power Armor had been recovered from Antallos and were sent to Cradle and Earth for study. She knew of their initial purpose: special operations by highly trained soldiers. The ISA already fielded a much lighter and more mobile type of power armor, the PA-404 Susanoo-class Infiltration Armor. What she saw was the potential of mass production.
Infantry on the battlefields of the Inner Sphere were considered to be the lowest of the low, dedicated to dying below the heels of the 'almighty' BattleMech. There was some sense in this, as from what she took from the source material was the almost disposable nature of infantry in warfare, at least at this time in the Inner Sphere. The ISA and the nations of Earth took infantry training much more seriously, as a professional army was more effective and more operationally flexible. More resources, longer careers, and distinct evolutions in technology had transformed the standing armies in many of Earth's nations into true career professionals. The ISA was the same, perhaps even more dedicated to the training and equipment of their soldiers than Earth.
What Iva saw in the Nighthawk was standard issue power armor. Not something to hoarded by the special operations community, but standard equipment to be proliferated to the common soldier. What was more terrifying than a 'mech jumping into a position? Companies of armored infantry, each one a pilot of their own mini-mech. Each person stronger than even five soldiers, capable of withstanding withering fire from powerful weapons. Sure, they would be a bit bulkier than the sleek infiltration armor, but the purpose of the grunts on the ground was to be either hammer or anvil, not scalpel.
She walked over to an engineer, their head deep in the internals of a recovered Nighthawk.
"How's progress coming along, Doctor?" Iva leaned over their half prone figure.
The doctor peeked their head out of the chest cavity of the Nighthawk, head covered in an observation helmet, "Very well, ma'am." They pressed a button on the side of the helmet and revealed the face of Doctor Carina Brewer, head of the Power Armor division, "The systems within are fantastically simple. We can replicate the armor within the week, but that's not good enough. The armor itself is fragile by our standards, as are the limb joints. The jump jets are adequate, but unexciting. Honestly, these things are less capable versions of our own EVA suits."
"Yet I feel like there is a significant upside to this armor that you're just about to get to."
"Quite right, ma'am. The construction methods are simple yet refined. These suits were about to enter mass production after fifteen years of development and prototyping if the source material is to be believed. If we can replicate the methods used and implement our own technology, we can make a proper mass-produced power armor for our own forces."
Bodrogi smirked, "Excellent. Do you have a timetable?"
"We have to test the integration of our own technology into the design, produce some for field testing, commence actual testing, etcetera. I think we can tentatively say about a year and a half before we have a full-scale production line for our frontline soldiers. Probably another couple months afterwards for dissemination through the ranks, field trials notwithstanding."
Iva looked over Brewer's shoulder, "What's that over there?"
"Oh, this?" Brewer stepped over to the weapon laid on the table, "It was the rifle issued with the armor. Markings state it's a Mauser 960 Assault System. This weapon is fine, as far as handheld pulse laser weapons go, but it has far too much going on. The integrated grenade launcher is fine, but look what we found in the stock." Brewer pointed at the neatly laid out kit next to the rifle.
"Is that a survival kit?"
"Yes, it is. We found two emergency flares, a flashlight with two spare batteries, a signal radio with a switch between IR and visible spectrum for the attached light, an entrenching spade, and a medical kit. We haven't fired it yet, but we've already weighed the thing. Without the survival kit it comes in at just under ten kilos."
"How is a soldier supposed to wield that for any period of time?" Bodrogi asked.
"From what the Nighthawk is capable of, it would be of little consequence for the power armored soldier, but standard infantry? That's the weight of a squad support weapon, not an infantry rifle."
"Well, maybe something useful will come of it. I've never liked handheld laser weaponry myself. They're usually too complex and too fragile to be wielded for extended periods before maintenance."
"It'll be handed off to the weapons department. We'll see what they can do."
Five Bridges Factory Testing Site
Port Kirin, Antallos
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
18 September 3022/2007/862 AS
Six months. Six long months of two sabotage attempts, rechecked equipment, limited manufacture, bureaucratic hang-ups, and unexpected delays led to this moment. In spite of the roadblocks put in place to deny the fruition of this day, it still came. The first complete Jenner out of the Five Bridges Factory on Antallos, the culmination of the efforts of the Draconis Combine and the Independent Systems Alliance.
In the prototype hangar Tai-sa Ulysses Kurita was escorted to the top of the first full 'mech produced at the factory. Gone was the usual adornment of his station. In its place was one of the ISA plugsuits with his own armored coat over it. He wasn't used to the tightness involved but had seen the advantages of the cooling bodysuit. His granddaughter Alicia Kurita and Combine Ambassador Shanti Taro were in talks to purchase a few hundred of them and it seemed the talks went well. A shipment of twenty were on their way from the ISA homeworld.
He cleared his head of these errant thoughts and climbed into the cockpit of the Jenner with a spryness that belied his age. Engineers on the exterior performed final checks while he made sure all the controls were as he remembered.
The Jenner was armed and armored to standard JR7-D specifications: four medium lasers and a rack of four short-range missiles. The engine came courtesy of the ISA from a batch of prototype fusion engines apparently produced on Earth. It was rated larger than the original two-forty-five engine designated to the Jenner class (a two-eighty instead), but it somehow did not exceed the weight limit of the chassis. He wondered how they fit a larger engine in as he flicked on the main power of the brand new 'mech.
Outside the 'mech the gantry that held it was pulled away, leaving the machine to stand upright under its own power. This first success put a smile on his face.
"You're clear to exit the hanger, Tai-sa." The voice came over the radio built into the neurohelmet.
"Acknowledged. Jen-XEM-01, moving out." Kurita's response of the ISA's technical designation brought back memories of his youth, his first time in the seat of the family 'mech. He took a deep breath, gripped the controls tightly, and willed the machine forward.
The Jenner took one hesitant step as the gyro adapted to the movement for the first time. The second step was far easier, the third completely fluid. He stayed at a walking pace as he left the building behind into the open sunlight. The active armored glass polarized and darkened above him.
"We have confirmation of movement. No errors reported." The voice on the other end of the radio could barely restrain their glee, "Care to do some target practice, Tai-sa?"
"Indeed. Have the targets ready for me at the range."
Port Kirin Administration Building
The atmosphere of the conference room was relaxed. Word of the successful test of the first Jenner of the Five Bridges Factory line and the weapons tests of the day had those gathered in a good mood. ComStar's best efforts were for naught as the joint efforts of the ISA and the Draconis Combine were a black mark against that pseudo-religious organization. The remaining business of the day was also of a lighter note. The military and civilian representatives of the ISA discussed said business with well-earned relaxation.
"Are we sure we can sell these on the open market?" General Davis asked.
"First generation cooling suits pose no real risk to us," Bashar Serov shrugged, "besides, this will allow Mitsubishi to export a large stock of suits just taking up space in their warehouses. Also, we can't understate the diplomatic impact, right Ambassador?"
"Quite right." Ambassador Smith took a sip of earl grey, "Shanti and Alicia were quite excited to get their hands on these for the DCMS, and the price the Combine are paying per unit is... well, let's just say they put much more stock in the capabilities of these plugsuits than we do."
"Three times the going rate, right?" Serov smirked, "Thank the Gods they don't know how much it costs to produce."
Smith nodded, "Agreed, Thomas. Agreed. Oh, I've also received word from the Federated Suns on our inquiries into procuring energy weapons and fusion cores en masse."
"We are a bit lacking in our VTOL craft." Davis conceded, "Until the production lines on Earth and Cradle can get tooled up, it's our only feasible option to get enough VTOL craft to fill the gaps."
"It's the most economical option right now." Serov leaned back in his chair, "I know MSI is working on some VTOL designs right now, but that's not real high on their priority list. I don't know about the Earth-based companies, but it is a soft spot in our inventory."
"What are they offering, Charles?" Davis inquired.
"Small, medium, and large lasers from Achernar Defense Technologies along with a gamut of fusion cores rated from fifty to one-fifty." Smith handed across a folder to Davis, "All at a very reasonable cost."
"Do we have any platforms we can even put these in?"
"Never doubt the ingenuity of our engineers, General." Serov replied, "I understand there are already plans in place to refit various helicopter and VTOL platforms on Earth to accept to the new powerplants. The weapons, honestly, we can take them or leave them, but I like the idea of taking them for study."
"Not to mention the fact that the deal with the Combine almost entirely covers the cost of the deal from the Federated Suns." Smith added.
"Get back to Ambassador Davion and tell him we will accept the Federated Suns generous offer." Davis nodded.
There was a knock at the door.
"Enter, Fleet Captain." Serov called.
Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda entered the room and offered a crisp salute before she took her seat, "Good news on the city-state front, everyone." She brought up a holo-image of Hermantown in the center of the table, "We have confirmed a 'civil disturbance' in Hermantown thanks to the disappearance of Dreadlocks Dee and the severe kicking we gave them three months ago. Thanks to the efforts of Rainbow and the Foreign Legion, that city-state is in a state of civil war. With our efforts here in Port Kirin nearing their conclusion, I believe we can support the dissidents and liberate Hermantown to the ISA."
Colonel Kent Ashwood, co-head of the Engineers Corps on Antallos spoke up, "Expanding the grid to support the Azami has gone much smoother than we originally anticipated. They're nearly one-hundred percent supported in terms of plumbing, sewage, and power. I think if we were to incorporate the lessons learned here, we can get Hermantown up and running much sooner than we were able to here in Port Kirin, damage notwithstanding."
"I'll get a battleplan drawn up." Davis cracked his neck, "I think we'll let the Free Azami participate in this one, too. I know those folks are eager to join the fray ever since you stopped them three months ago."
"Coordinate with them, sure." Serov shook his head, "Remind them that we are in overall command. Chain of command needs to be clearly delineated if they're going to fight with us."
"Mullah Al Aznar understands what's at stake." Davis confirmed, "I'm sure the Free Azami won't be a problem."
"Shall I get the appropriate feelers out when our forces move on the city?" Smith asked.
"Of course, Ambassador. Maybe the other city-states will get the message this time around." Serov changed the holo-image to the city-state of Proctor, "When we move on Hermantown, Proctor will most certainly aim to strike during the chaos. I think we can extend our friends out there a red-carpet welcome into the ISA. What do you think?" Nods and general affirmation around the table, "Good. General, draw up the battleplans and send them down the chain. Let's be ready to welcome Hermantown and Proctor into the ISA. We'll make sure the Constabulary are ready to administer two more city-states. Include plans and procedures for the rest of them. Maybe by the end of the year, all of Antallos will be under control."
HPG Station
Port Kirin Outskirts
24 September 3022/2007/862 AS
Precentor Long looked out of the window of his office as the work proceeded on the upgrade of his HPG Station. He was notified a few months back that his station would be upgraded to a Class A facility, and final confirmation came two months prior. It was only recently that construction began when materials from Terra arrived. The ISA offered assistance in the form of labor and drone support from their veritable drone fleet that zipped about the city. These drones were a piece of lostech unknown to him and he saw the offer as an opportunity to observe and perhaps surreptitiously analyze the multifunctional machines. Blake would approve, and he thought discoveries from these devices would garner him support from Terra, perhaps even the Primus himself.
Unknown to Precentor Long, the drones were all programed to place surveillance devices all over the newly constructed zones of the HPG Station and all other areas that needed upgrades according to the specifications of the Precentor and the ComStar engineers. The Systems Security Service was eager to ensure that ComStar remained under the harshest scrutiny possible after the attempted sabotage of the Five Bridges Factory. In the words of Bashar Superior Thomas Serov, 'I want ComStar under a fucking microscope.' All of the ISA's human labor assets were trained Triple-S officers conducting the human side of intelligence gathering. They all understood the importance of watching what they considered to be the most dangerous organization in the Inner Sphere and to keep them at bay.
The ROM presence on Antallos remained minor, mainly due to travel time. The Antallos Station was set to receive a proper ROM contingent next month, but their lack of personnel planet-side was a boon for the ISA. They could essentially run their intelligence operations completely unsupervised by proper counterintelligence operatives, and by the time the first ROM agents arrived the electronic assets would be well and truly embedded all over the ComStar bastion with human resources placed close to many of the low and mid-level personnel.
Of course, Precentor Long was unaware of this. He was more concerned about the letter that lay on his desk. It was a handwritten letter, delivered by a member of the ISA ambassadorial staff just yesterday. It was from Lord Jack Ryan himself, although the leader of the ISA felt the title of 'Councilor' was less ostentatious and more appropriate to keep himself in power. It was not the place of Long to make such judgement calls.
He flipped through the handwritten pages, with a more official transcript attached but ignored. In Long's opinion it was a brilliant piece of political double-speak, on par with any of the House Lord communications that passed across his table. This Ryan was no stranger to the political process and the Precentor felt that some appreciation was in order. Motherlode would be well served by a leader who would be capable of navigating the political arena of the Inner Sphere.
The presence of the letter itself meant that Long had to do something that he hadn't done in many years. He had gone through the massive hardbound copy of the official policies and procedures issued to all HPG stations. The origin of this tome could be traced back to the Blessed Blake himself as a means to assure all HPG stations were held to the same rules and regulations. Normally, communications sent to ComStar itself were made at an HPG station and transmitted to Terra, at the minimum price of course. A physical letter delivered to the local Precentor was not without precedent, but over the past centuries the modern method settled into normalcy.
The most relevant information in the tome came from around the time of the First Succession War, when the Blessed Blake himself was still founding ComStar. Officially, a letter such as this had to be physically transported to the addressee, in this case the Primus himself on Terra. Unofficially, Long could transcribe the letter and send that via HPG to the Primus while the letter itself took the slow route and wound up in the ComStar archives, unopened.
That was all academic in the end. It was the contents of the letter itself that would cause the biggest stir inside the halls of Hilton Head. Even here on the edge of the Periphery, he could sense the building tension inside the hallowed order about how best to deal with this Star League remnant state.
What the letter on his desk boiled down to was the ISA graciously and politely declined ComStar's offer to operate their HPG stations. They did not deny having them but gave rather vague and various reasons for their decision. They preferred instead to continue official communication between the two organizations by HPG from Terra and then via Command Circuit from Antallos to Motherlode, which the ISA referred to as Earth in official documents.
Long knew he didn't have the mindset of ROM, but even he could see that this letter would only exacerbate the growing strain in ComStar. The schism between those who felt that the ISA were the long-promised return of Kerensky (obscuring their true allegiance until the time was right) and those who quietly argued that no matter the origin, the ISA needed the guiding hand of the Blessed Blake to protect them from the evils of the Inner Sphere would only grow.
Precentor Antallos shook his head and stared at the letter. It would not do to act in haste, no matter what happened or what could happen. The night crept forward as the lights of Port Kirin shown brighter through his window, a result of the ISA's public works projects. Precentor Long thought long and hard about which side he would support, should it ever come down to that.
Office of the Systems Security Service
First Combined Army Headquarters
29 September 862 AS/2007/3022
The efforts of the ISA's massive infiltration of the HPG station already borne fruit. The drones had implanted a myriad of sensors, cameras, and other surveillance devices about the ComStar facility. Triple-S officers were getting quite chummy with their ComStar marks, and a few of them even let down their guard with little snippets of information during work hours. Most of the initial information was drivel, benign conversations and innocent video capture. There was one gem in the coal mine: an official ROM contingent would be arrive in the coming months, followed closely by an assigned ComGuard garrison.
This was phenomenal news for the Triple-S. They had already suspected a severe lack of ROM personnel on Antallos, but this confirmed it. They would still proceed as procedure dictated, but this important line of data would allow them to expand surveillance of ComStar before their arrival. Every available nook and cranny would be revealed to them, perhaps even the vaunted local archives. Perhaps they could glean a more accurate record of the history of the Inner Sphere much sooner than they could have hoped for.
The ISA and Earth were still extremely dependent on the BattleTech Source Material for much of their predictions and intelligence. With a much more tangible grasp on the galaxy at large, they could see what was happening in the now rather than what would have happened given their absence. They still needed more sources on more worlds. The Triple-S wanted the far-reaching eyes and ears they were accustomed to, but this step was a massive one. With the importance of a Class-A HPG station, it would be near assured that priority information would be relayed from the First Circuit straight to Antallos. With access to an important vestibule in the ComStar chain of communication, they would only be stone's throw away from the central nervous system of the pseudo-religious organization.
Fleet Captain Maeda smiled in her office. ComStar may have fired the first shot, but now she felt like she held the weapon, the ammunition, even the shooter in the palm of her hand. Information was her currency, and she felt like she just struck it rich.
Buster's Busted Bar
Port Kirin
1 October 3022/2007/862 AS
Administrators came and went, regimes rose and fell, but Buster's endured. The arrival of the ISA and the reforms they implemented did very little to interrupt business. These days, the clientele now included a good number of ISA personnel. To the amusement of the staff, Buster's reputation had spread to Motherlode and attracted tourists along with the military personnel.
Among Buster's amenities were side rooms for private parties. To Jane Koltan's amusement, the one rented by Captain Burgess Hale happened to be the exact same room in which she had briefed 'Vorax's Army' on Motherlorde not two years ago. She and everyone else had thoroughly underestimated the resistance that they ran into. It still gave her shivers sometimes. It was a miracle that she had not only survived that day but prospered.
Then again, so had everyone else here.
"So, here we are." Hale began to the assembled former pirate band of the DropShip Drakon, "Two years ago, we were a down on our luck band of misfits barely making ends meet. Two years ago, we discovered what we thought was the biggest score of our lives. I guess it was, even if not quite the way we thought."
"Yeah, you're rich now Burg." Jane's husband Idron Koltan laughed, "You've got a title and everything. Should we call you 'milord' now?"
"Jesus, I thought we were done with this months ago." Hale rolled his eyes, "I've heard every joke under the suns about that."
"You want I tell a few, sir?" Jankowicz smiled. Another change Jane noticed. Two years ago, Jankowicz would have never called anyone 'sir.' 'Boss,' maybe, but never 'sir.' He looked better too. Military life seemed to suit him, "I'm sure I've heard a few you've missed."
"Don't you dare, Jankowicz." Hale growled. That drew a chuckle from the others, "So, what have you all been up to?"
"Me?" Dana Zumross pointed her fork at herself, "I've been elbows deep in RnD. I can't really talk specifics, but suffice it to say the First Combined Army is due for a few upgrades in the coming months."
"You already know what I've been up to." Jankowicz puffed out his chest, "Lieutenant Kenneth Jankowicz, First Battalion 'Mech Ace extraordinaire!"
"'Extraordinaire?'" Zumross echoed, "You been taking those correspondence courses, Ken?"
"What? I'm a great and mighty 'MechWarrior! I don't need no stinking…" Jankowicz collapsed under Zumross' gaze, "Yeah, I have…" he admitted sheepishly, "Don't tell anyone!"
"Good for you!" Dana pointed her now steak-laden fork approvingly at the young man.
"Huh, really?" Jankowicz was surprised, "So, uh, what are you up to later, Dana?"
"Meeting with my fiancé." Dana flashed the ring on her finger.
"You're getting married?" Jankowicz shook his head in disbelief.
"Idron, has your new company given you hell?" Hale turned away from the chatting pair toward the married couple.
"Some." Idron shrugged, "I don't know how you manage, Burg, whipping new blood into fighting shape."
"You learn and ask questions, man. Natalie and I are always available if you can't get a hold of Dansel."
"Thanks, Burg. Seriously."
"What about you, Jane?" Hale motioned to the ISA uniform Jane Koltan wore, "What do you do in the ISA?"
"Same old, same old." Jane punctuated with a wave of her hands, "I specialize in DropShip operations. ISA doctrine is different from that of the rest of the Inner Sphere, so I'm there to help bridge the gap. The ISA is having me cross-train with their Navy folks. They have these ships… the size of a DropShip but capable of jumping on their own. They're a hell of a thing, Hale. I think the ISA has a proper space-bound navy, and not just the few ships we've seen."
"That sounds like a hell of a job, Jane. Good on you." Hale shook his head, "Wait, by proper navy, are you talking…"
"I thought they only had a few of the large WarShips, but in the last few months Earth's seen a proper fleet. I'm talking at least a dozen ships, maybe more. Apparently, the ISA has even more."
"Well, I'm glad they're on our side then." Hale looked wistfully at the door, "I wish some of the others made it to see today."
"Yeah." Jane dipped her head solemnly, "Hugo Chin should have lived to see all this."
"Tony Denaro." Hale added, "Not a bad guy. Shame he didn't make it."
"I can think of more than a few people we lost when Mamoto lifted off with the Drakon's bay doors wide open." Idron scowled, "Death by enemy action is of the risks of the business. Death because people on your own side are idiots and cowards is personal." Idron's eye twitched.
"Whatever happened to our former DropShip captain, anyway?" Hale asked.
"Last I checked he was selling used cars in Los Angeles," Jane rolled her eyes, "and it looked like he was doing well, too!"
"I guess Mamoto's not doing too bad for himself." Hale mused, "At least he found a job better suited for his talents." He stood up and rang his glass, "Everyone I have something I'd like to say." Those gathered looked at him expectantly.
"Two years ago, we found a Periphery world off the beaten track that looked the answer to all our problems. In a way, it was. All it took was for us to get our asses kicked by the locals."
That drew a few laughs all around.
"So, I propose a toast." Hale raised his glass, "To getting our asses kicked! The best thing that ever happened to us!"
"TO GETTING OUR ASSES KICKED!"
Royal Palace
Tharkad
Tharkad System, Lyran Commonwealth Space
5 October 3022
Archon Katrina Steiner hated paperwork. She knew that only the most important documents crossed her desk, but it was an unfortunate truth that there were still a great many items that needed the personal attention of the Archon of the Lyran Commonwealth. Matters of grand strategy, economic forecasts, high-level diplomatic developments, and intelligence of great import made their way to her. Although she was quite averse to bureaucratic paper pushing, she understood its place.
It was late. Most of her staff were either just about to wrap up their own days or have left already. It was her against the paper work of the Commonwealth. She browsed over the most recent intelligence report from the Lyran Intelligence Corps. The Norns' reports were standard fare: overall situation with the Combine was tense but tenable; the Free Worlds League was as still reeling after the rebellion of Anton Marik seven years prior; cooperation was expanding with the Federated Suns in anticipation of the union between Hanse Davion and her daughter Melissa; and the Capellans were quiet after their failed support of the Marik rebellion.
The most interesting report was out of Antallos. The newly established Independent Systems Alliance has been making waves between the Combine and the Federated Suns. She was acutely aware of the reports of lostech in their midst. Their technology was so dizzyingly advanced that the entirety of the Inner Sphere placed them under intense scrutiny, only hampered by the distances of space itself. The Norns were in the process of obtaining more information. They only had one agent on the ground and the reports were not detailed enough to determine any usable data of interest.
As she browsed through the report on the ISA, an attached paper caught her attention. It had no sender but was marked as important. She read the addendum. The first two lines of text sent shivers of anger down her spine. She grabbed her office phone.
"Get me Simon. NOW!" She yelled through the line. It went dead, as the attendant went through with the order.
Her mind raced as she continued to read the paper. If the worst of this plot came to pass…
Ten minutes later, Simon Hauer, head of Lyran Intelligence, came through her door.
"Did you sign off on this?" She shoved the piece of paper in the man's face.
He read over the document. His eyes lit up in surprise, "No, Archon. I've only requested more agents be deployed to Antallos ahead of a formal diplomatic mission, nothing more."
Katrina took a breath and steadied herself, "Okay. Then what the hell are our LOKI agents thinking, putting forth an operation to destabilize this new nation? How will this benefit us at all?"
"I don't know." Simon shook his head, "I apologize for this oversight, Archon."
"If it gets out that we attempted to loosen their hold on Antallos…"
"I understand. I will inform our agents right away. I will also notify the ISA that-"
"No." Katrina stared intently at the man, "This is our mess. We clean this up ourselves. How will it look to the rest of the Houses if I can't keep my own house in order? What will Hanse Davion think? No, we solve our own problems. I trust you to find a way to have the people responsible… rewarded this this action."
Simon nodded deeply, "It will be done."
Port Kirin Interstellar Port
Antallos
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
7 October 3022/862 AS/2007
'Fumihiro Kitakawa' exited the DropShip and stepped into the harsh light of Port Kirin's tarmac. There was a ground vehicle waiting to take this latest batch of arrivals to the appropriate terminal. He arrived quickly at the arrivals terminal and waited in line with the rest his DropShip passengers to be processed by the port authority.
The questions fielded were routine: what is the purpose of your arrival; how long do you intend to stay; where will you be staying; what is your occupation; do you have anything to declare. He answered all the questions with flying colors with no further hassle from the port authority guards.
He walked from arrivals into the observation lounge on the way to baggage pickup. He noted the sleek, utilitarian design that the ISA put up in the spaceport. This was not the rundown, backwater world that Antallos was known as. No, this was a revitalized world that needed to be reminded of their place in the galaxy.
He wandered to an information kiosk for place to stay. He needed a place to hole up for the night while he established himself on-world. He also needed more permanent lodging and a job. The cash given to him would only last so long.
He received the knowledge he needed and hailed a for-hire vehicle into the city. He was the first of ten assigned to Antallos. They all had the same job, all in their twenties to thirties, and all stated arrivals from the Draconis Combine. The Independent Systems Alliance would know fear and be reminded that the galactic stage was for the Great Houses.
Coalition of Sovereign Nations Headquarters
New York City, United States of America
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
10 October 2007/862 AS/3022
It had taken some time but the effects of the implementation of some of the ISA's laws were beginning to be seen. Some of the poorest areas of Earth: Africa, Southeast Asia; South America; noted some of the most drastic transformations anyone had ever seen. Previously untapped resources were being exploited by their countries in areas considered too hazardous or impossible to reach in years past. Vast patches of detritus left unchecked to fester were gathered and recycled back into useful materials for their local communities. The economic mobility of the lowest in society was the highest in Earth's history with the poorest no longer having to worry about food, shelter, clean water, or even a source of income. The rapid application of universal basic income and the now famous 'Alliance Aid Packages' had united a world once divided. Shelter methods pioneered on Antallos were applied all over the world. Shipping container sales were at an all-time high. There would be time to celebrate these accomplishments, but not yet.
There was a threat that loomed over the whole world. It was not invasion by a foreign power, it was not infiltration or subversion. It was something far more primal and ancient: Nature. Natural disasters were always on the horizon. Even with the environmental safeguards passed at the last meeting of the Coalition, there would still be events that they could not control. Earthquakes, hurricanes, wildfires, destructive events that mother nature dictated needed a proper response. Hurricane Katrina two years ago showed that even the United States with all of its economic and industrial might shook under the weight of Katrina's wrath. The northwest of North America was notorious for wildfires, as was Australia and parts of Europe. Studies into how best to tackle such monumental events required groundwork and technology that none of these nations had two years ago.
The Independent Systems Alliance had a system in place for natural disasters. They called it the Early Nature-Defeating Response System, or ENDRS. When an impending natural disaster was detected by their comprehensive satellite system, a series of events launched that were designed to reduce harm to the populace and property, set up appropriate evacuation centers, and move the appropriate personnel into place to combat and reduce the damage done by the natural disaster. This was all well and good on a world completely integrated into the ISA's systems and procedures, but to one still as disparate as Earth this would be an immense undertaking. The long-term solutions were still years away from completion, and this system had to be in place in case something cataclysmic happened tomorrow.
Earth's foremost experts on disaster management were gathered here today to meet with the ISA's mission planners. Like many of the departments within the ISA, the ENDRS program was run by a military department advised by civilian specialists. When it came to rapid mobilization, no one could beat the ISA military machine, so they created a department to address this problem decades ago. The CSN's experts discussed the problems of the international nature of Earth: the conditions of infrastructure and how that would affect response time; the wide number of organizations that would want seniority for leading a relief operation; the resources available in the different regions of Earth; and so on. The ISA planners understood the problems of logistics and how to bring the appropriate resources into a disaster zone. They had done this thousands of times over hundreds of occasions. They presented a streamlined hierarchy for command and control to help assuage concerns of egos and dick-waving interfering with relief efforts. The sheer number of transports now available to Earth from their own assigned fleet would help decrease response time and increase the effectiveness of any relief efforts by sheer speed.
The CSN's people were concerned about funding. They understood that organizations like this cost money and material. To have such an expansive system on a planet or covering a star system did not come cheap. The ISA planners assured their Earth counterparts that they always have an adequate budget and material was a non-issue. The CSN experts thought they spoke hyperbolically, but they were then presented with the standard deployment equipment of a disaster relief team and were astounded. The ISA planners were much more concerned about having actionable procedures in place to cover as many disasters as possible. They also spoke of the long-term plans to help alleviate strain on any relief system. Prevention would come in the form of reversing Earth's course environmentally and hardening buildings against disaster. Those measures may be years away from completion, but it was important that they were already underway. Procedure would help those affected, evacuate disaster zones quickly, and begin the reparation process sooner so people could get back to their lives as soon as they could.
The discussions continued for hours, but the progress was clear. They had a solid foundation to build upon. Their efforts over the next few days would help them mitigate what would have been absolute cataclysms in the future.
International Training Center
Fort Irwin, California
15 October 3022/2007/862 AS
Major Andreas Staedele of the Buron Cavalry and Lieutenant Shizuka Banderas of the ISA guided a group of civilian contractors to the Cav's armory. They had spent the last couple of hours on the range demonstrating the effectiveness of their hybrid ISA-IS armor. The gaggle of contractors were interested to see the kind of economic field upgrades the Cavalry had done to their equipment on Antallos and on base. Technical assistance from the ISA was one thing, it was quite another to receive actual combat reports from units in the field. So, Major Staedele set aside some time to visit their armorer.
The group entered the Cav's equipment workshop. It was in a state of disarray: disassembled small arms; armor pieces; and even a few pieces of heavier weaponry were scattered about the workspace. The Cav's armorer Cardan Radics was hunched over a TK Assault Rifle, completely engrossed in his work. Staedele cleared his throat and jolted Radics out of his routine.
"Cardan, I got a few contractors over here." Staedele pointed to the people behind him, "Mind walking them through the modifications we've made to the equipment over the last few months?"
Radics glanced over the TK one last time, "Sure. This isn't that urgent anyway." He walked over to them and motioned to a table in the corner of the room.
"This is it, people. Let's do armor first. Now, the ISA's got some pretty slick armor. We were glad to have it issued before we deployed to Antallos. Given the standard Inner Sphere spec armor we're used to, we like to call this some bullet-proof bullshit. Light enough, it self-hardens, it's breathable, it's got a lot going for it. However, it does have some shortcomings. The self-hardening aspect of it doesn't do too well if what's under isn't padded a bit. So, we tinkered a bit and applied ISA self-hardening properties to IS-style armor. Now, it's heavier, but it's also cheaper as we applied the material to the exterior of our standard-spec armor. Given the entire outfit isn't completely self-hardening material, it does exactly what it needs to do while also providing padding to the important bits when hit."
"Now the M-7 Kindjal, this rifle is a beautiful piece of engineering. Whoever at MSI was the lead for this weapon deserves all the praise in the world. These ISA types are obsessed with rail guns, so much so that they took that concept and made it into an assault rifle. To scale that tech down into a one of the most reliable ARs I've ever seen it a hell of an accomplishment. The internals are a work of art. You just can't find anything like this in the Inner Sphere. Near unlimited ammo, the limiting factor is heat. It has a cooldown phase if you fire the thing sustained for too long. Not too big of a deal, as one of these things isn't meant to be a squad automatic weapon. If you do want to do sustained fire, you slot in what they call a heat mag. One of these boxes stores up the heat of sustained fire until its expended then you slap another one in and keep on firing. It's one of the finest weapons I've ever seen. Biggest problem is cost and ammo compatibility. No way in hell could you export these to the rest of the IS, and no one outside the ISA knows how to manufacture the ammo bars. That's why I was tinkering with the TK over there."
One of the Heckler and Koch reps approached the workbench and glanced at the TK, "What kind of ammunition does it take?"
"Three-millimeter caseless. It's the standard rifle of the Lyran Commonwealth. The Cav got a crate of 'em a couple decades back, haven't had a chance to use 'em really."
Another HK rep's eyes lit up, "Wait, did you say caseless?"
Radics cocked an eyebrow "…yes?"
The first rep rushed forward and got uncomfortably close to the Cav armorer, "Could we possibly convince you to come on board as a consultant on Inner Sphere rifle design?"
Radics took a step back and raised his hands, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there buddy. I'm not gonna leave the Cav."
"We're simply asking for your assistance in small arms design, Mister Radics." The other HK rep put a hand on his counterpart's shoulder, "A consultancy contract. You would work from here, stay with the Buron Cavalry, and we call you if we have any questions or need your assistance. I know that my associate here is quite excited by this caseless assault rifle, and I know that there would be more than a few engineers that would love to see the ammunition this rifle uses, but we understand the requirements of military life. All we ask is that you consider."
The armorer stroked his chin, "I'll give it some thought."
Staedele refocused the civilian contractors, "Alright, everyone, let's keep it moving. We have some more items here I'm sure you'd like to see, such as the Defiance A5L small laser over here. Now, Radics, can you tell them…"
The Splitting Head
Hermantown, Antallos
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
18 October 3022/862 AS/2007
The Splitting Head was one of the more reputable watering holes in Hermantown. Given the reputation of Antallos, that wasn't saying much. The floor was cleaned at least once a day and the bartender had glasses clean enough to contain the questionable liquid they considered alcohol. The glasses may have been weathered with age and chipped around the rims, but they did the job. The Splitting Head staff were even smart about who they let use the glass: if you looked like you'd start a brawl and didn't have a good rep or a tab, no glass for you.
The typical patrons of the Splitting Head were either Hermantown militia or stranded pirates as a result of the ISA's seizure of Port Kirin. Even with the recent chaos of the Hermantown civil war, the pub still saw business. The customers were more varied: pub crawlers who looked to drink the latest spat of violence away; locals who scrounged up enough money playing both sides only to throw it back up in the alley; 'soldiers' who fought for one side or another depending on where the Splitting Head was in the day's battle lines. The clientele, environment, and musk brought in and out were not what one wanted to contemplate.
Unfortunately for Carmella McFarland, contemplation was all she could do. She sat at her usual table, her back and side to a wall, a good view of the pub's exits, and swirled her half-filled mug of swill. She dreaded the thought of finishing the rest. The pub was uncomfortably warm, beads of sweat dripped from her forehead down her cheeks. The ravenous eyes of some of the patrons didn't help matters. These people did not meet her requirements for a good dalliance, and she was quite sure that these folks were not interested in mutual satisfaction. She was glad she had sufficient arms under her robes.
The topic of her contemplation: The Independent Systems Alliance. This new Periphery power had caused quite a stir planet-side. Port Kirin's seizure and subsequent revitalization. The death of Redjack Ryan. The destruction of the Hermantown Palace, the disappearance of Dreadlocks Dee, and the civil war that followed. The repeated repulsion of the other city-states despite what looked like outside help. Their access to what appeared to be lostech.
The lostech piqued her interest.
She had arrived on Antallos in search of lostech. Having arrived just after Vorax's doomed Motherlode expedition, she had set off into the deep wastes of Antallos in search of a rumored ancient Star League cache. There were rumors all over the Magistracy of such things, but this one was more credible than most: it had backing information from the University of Canopus. With that information at hand, her personal Atlas 'mech, and enough supplies for two years, she set off from the Magistracy to the southern wastes of Antallos.
The lonely trek in the southern wastes was punctuated by brief bits of excitement as she fended off zone gangs with blasts of laser fire. No zone ganger that wanted to stay among the living dared take an Atlas in combat, thus those bouts of ganger foolishness were followed by prolonged stretches of searching. She referenced ancient Star League-era maps of Antallos, spent large swaths of time in transit, played holovid games, exercised, followed sensor 'ghosts,' all for naught. The vague nature of the information combined with the already looted state of Antallos meant that her quest ended in a bust. Her supplies running low forced her to halt her search and begin the trek back to the Magistracy. That leg of her journey brought her to Hermantown, but the civil war in the city changed her itinerary.
Despite this, she had a duty to perform. She had to report back to Canopus.
Deep in her thoughts, she barely registered the gunfire outside. The cacophony of war was commonplace in the city over the past couple of months as the Hermantown Freedom Corps tangled with what was left of the city's militia. The Splitting Head was well within militia territory, but the gunfire and explosions grew closer by the day. Today, it felt as though it were mere blocks away.
The front doors to the Splitting Head burst open. In marched a man dressed in the rag-tag uniform of the Hermantown militia. He pushed through a table occupied by his fellow 'soldiers' and pulled himself on top, poised in a stance of importance and authority. McFarland had encountered him once before but couldn't remember his name. She just dubbed him Sergeant Someone in her mind. He stood on the table and made an announcement.
"Alright, militia, listen up! Those Freedom fucks are pushing hard a few blocks away! I need you all on the street and ready to fight! Generalissimo Davies wants all militiamen out in the fight!" The militia gathered around the table grumbled and began to saunter out the door, "All you 'freelancers,' we are accepting any and all assistance in bringing the fight to these Freedom fucks. I hope all of you appreciate the generous accommodations during the tenure of our most recent Emperor, but now we need you to do your part!"
McFarland read the lips of Sergeant Someone and rolled her eyes. The pretender honestly thought that he could gather support from this hive of outcasts just because a civil war was on. Sergeant Someone marched over to her with purpose.
"McFarland! We need your Atlas on the front line! Emperor Selas demands it!" Someone overemphasized.
"No." McFarland replied simply with a shake of her head.
"There will be consequences." Someone gestured to his sidearm before he planted a hand on the table
McFarland sighed. With a swift motion, she broke her mug of swill over his head and stabbed through his hand into the table with a concealed blade.
"I pay my dues to the 'Emperor.'" She explained loudly to the screaming man. This was one instance where she was glad she was deaf, "My answer is still no." She withdrew her blade from the man's hand and allowed him to drop writhing to the ground. The man lay moaning as he clutched his maimed hand to his chest.
She glanced about the Splitting Head and saw approving nods and smirks. This idiot honestly thought that he could press gang a bar full of pirates and outcasts into service and paid the price. She understood the rules of the wild Periphery: might makes right.
A couple of the pirates grabbed Sergeant Someone and dragged him to the door. They were clearly unimpressed with the bravado. When the pair reached the door, one of them pulled out their sidearm and spread Sergeant Someone's lack of mind all over the dusty street outside. The other simply kicked the body out the door into the militia awaiting the return of their fearless leader. She couldn't see the lips of pirates, but the scurry of the militia told the tale well enough.
It was barbaric, but that was the way of the lawless Periphery.
She pondered her next move. What avenues were available? How could she leave with her venerable Atlas without being picked off by the ISA's impressive planetary coverage? Would it be possible to slip away in the chaos of the fighting in the city? The questions swam in her head as the pirate who chucked the now-completely brainless Sergeant into the street sat across from her. She shot them a cold glare, but her eyes widened in astonishment as they signed to her.
The signs were unfamiliar, but there was the occasional recognized word or phrase. She studied the pirate in a different light. They looked in their mid-thirties, a slim build that looked perfect for flexibility and maneuver. They were dressed in a worn desert camouflage outfit with a loose robe perfect for concealing deadly intent. Their eyes were hardened with experience and cunning intelligence, denoting years of experience. This was no mere pirate.
"Sorry, I can only understand a third of what you're signing."
They put their index finger to their lips, "Shh." They withdrew a pad of a paper and a pen and began to write, "A pity. It makes sense, given the size of the IS and its diversity." They handed the pad and pen across to her.
"Why did you need to learn?" She wrote.
"Occupational necessity. I need to be able to speak to anyone and everyone no matter the scenario. I can tell from what little you have spoken you were able to hear once. Care to share?"
"Pirate raid gone wrong. Had to retire as a MechWarrior. Hard to be in a lance if you can't hear comms."
"Occupational hazard. Care to share why you're on Antallos?"
"Lostech prospecting that turned out to be a waste of time. Why all the questions?"
"Had to confirm you are who we think you are."
McFarland cocked an eyebrow when she read that line, "And who do you think I am?"
They smirked, "Carmella McFarland of the Magistracy of Canopus, stranded in a city-state enveloped by civil war. I'm sure you've noticed that the situation has grown more dire by the day, and the avenues of escape are drying up faster than open water in the free zones. The civil war has gotten more intense, Proctor is looking to muscle in, and to top it all off the ISA is only two steps away from intervening in this mess."
She paused a moment, "So, why approach me?"
"A Canopian noble who needs to get back to Port Kirin is of great use to the Magistracy and the ISA. First point of contact between a new Periphery power and the Magistracy could propel you to new heights."
"Why should I trust you?"
"Because we can get you and your 'mech out of the city. We can put you back in contact with Canopus proper. I'm sure you'd rather not be here when the fireworks truly go off."
McFarland considered their offer, "You accompany me to the 'mech berths and we can discuss this in more detail." She paused as she considered the next move, "You have a name?"
"Hannah Najjar, at your service."
Systems Security Service Safehouse
Hermantown, Antallos
"We have confirmation." Captain James McCann called to his team, "Najjar has made contact with the package. Time to move."
"David and Yemima are already in lockstep." Gunny Titus O'Neil replied, "They'll escort Najjar the rest of the way."
McCann began to equip his gear, "Fantastic. Come on. Youta already has eyes on the 'mech berth. We gotta meet him at the rendezvous point."
"How much longer until shit gets real hairy?" Lieutenant Sam Morgenstern asked as he slung his rifle on his shoulder.
"Hopefully we won't have to find out." McCann checked his omni-tool, "Let's go, people."
En Route to the 'Mech Berths
Najjar opened comms to Lieutenant Aaron David and Sergeant Netta Yemima, "You two have us covered?"
"Affirmative, Commander." Yemima replied from her vantage point on the buildings above, "No contacts for the next hundred meters. You're clear."
"Take the next left, Commander." David called, "There's some light contact after the hundred-meter mark."
"I see it, Lieutenant." Najjar confirmed.
Carmella McFarland kept her head on a swivel. While she followed at a fair distance behind Najjar, she had a feeling that they were being watched. Najjar kept writing 'we' in their previous exchange, so she figured that this faux-pirate had a team with her. Whether or not they would harm her was still to be seen, but she got the distinct impression that she wanted McFarland to live and make it Port Kirin. If she did try to kill her, then McFarland would at least ensure that Najjar would go down with her.
Najjar drew one of her sidearms and motioned McFarland to follow behind a wall. McFarland drew her own autopistol and pressed herself beside Najjar. Najjar handed her a pair of small devices and motioned to her ear. McFarland took the device with trepidation. Najjar tapped her ear again. McFarland hesitated a moment, then complied with the motioned request. One at a time, she pressed the devices into her ears.
For the first time in years, McFarland heard a painful ringing. For a moment she gripped her skull, trying to cope with the pain. The next, the ringing was gone and for the first time she could hear.
"How?" McFarland asked. She could hear her own voice outside her head and properly control her vocal modulation.
"Inner ear stimulation, McFarland." Najjar peeked around the corner and motioned them forward, "Come on. You're also patched into our audio comms."
"Commander," McCann's voice came over comms, "We've reached the HFC's FOB. Youta has cleared a route in the chaos and is keeping their heads down. You and McFarland are clear to the 'mech berths. Double time, yeah?"
"Thank you, Captain." Najjar began to run around the corner with McFarland close behind, "HFC FOB actions are at your discretion. Just keep that window open and we'll get to our extracts with good time."
McFarland was in a state of shock. For the first time in years she could hear, and with a clarity that she never imagined possible in her condition.
Who in the hell are these people? McFarland thought to herself, They've got to be ISA…
"Before you ask," Najjar began as they ran through the alleys of Hermantown, "yes, we are ISA and yes we are here to get you out, you and your Atlas."
"How do you people know who I am and how the hell can I hear?" McFarland glanced ahead of them, "How are the streets so clear, what-"
"Hold." Yemima ordered, "Contacts, two hundred meters ahead of you."
"We'll get 'em," David aimed down the optics of his rifle, "keep your heads down."
Carmella watched down the alleyway as two silhouettes fell following the distinct crack of suppressed supersonic fire.
"Let's go." Najjar broke from cover with McFarland trailing behind. They kicked up dust as the 'mech berth grew closer, "Yemima, David, follow us in. We breech, clear, then get the hell out of dodge."
Former Hermantown Militia Base, now FOB Novgorod
Outskirts of Hermantown, Antallos
It was an obvious strongpoint, the wrecked militia base ravaged by the ISA Foreign Legion four months prior, but it was undeniable that it was the perfect staging point for the assault on Hermantown. With the chaos in the city, seizing the base was trivial for the lead elements of the First Combined Army. The token defenders were cleared out in the early evening as the sun set on Hermantown, and just two hours later it was swarming with more soldiers, vehicles, and 'mechs poised to liberate the city-state.
The ISA's covert operations group in town had done a phenomenal job in keeping the city in a state of disarray ahead of the main force for the past few months, but now it was time for the regular army and the Free Azami to begin the process of fighting for the city proper.
In the distance swarms of Azami and ISA aerospace craft kept the skies clear of what remained of the Hermantown militia's air force. Lines of BattleMechs and vehicles prepared for the inevitable Proctor attack. Baliset transports set off to the other city-states with their own aerospace compliments, preparing their deployments against the other hostile cities.
The lead element of the First Combined Army set up a defensive line facing the city. They expected at least some token resistance, but chaos within Hermantown prevented the militia from mounting any semblance of counterattack. The Free Azami were keen to show their prowess on the field of battle and leapfrogged their ISA allies. They probed Hermantown's edge and sussed out potential militia positions. They took their fair share of enemy kills in exchange for what the ISA considered unnecessary losses.
Major Tony Dansel watched the action unfold in the cockpit of his Battlemaster. He shook his head at the actions of the Free Azami but understood their desire to prove their worth to their ISA allies. The Foreign Legion was assigned as a reserve unit for this action to let the fresher elements of the First Combined Army get some combat experience under their belts. He was perfectly fine with the arrangement; besides, the ISA like the US Army did not like to risk their field grade officers on frontline actions, especially if one was considered a 'hero.' He scoffed at the notion.
"Sir, we have an incoming transmission from General Davis." His copilot and adjutant Lieutenant Jaron Abe called over comms.
"Put him through." General Davis' image appeared in the corner of his HUD, "Yes, General?"
"Son, we got word from our operators in Hermantown. They're gonna need a path opened up to get to their extract point."
Dansel shrugged, "And you want us to carve it out for them. Sure, we can do that. Small wetwork team, right? We can fit them in an IFV and get them out of dodge."
"They're gonna need a Baliset, son."
Dansel cocked an eyebrow, "What, did they steal a 'mech?" he asked, voice bathed in sarcasm.
Davis gave him a deadpan look, "Not just any, 'mech, Major…"
'Mech Berths
"Gods damn them!" Najjar screamed as she fired from behind cover, "This place was supposed to be empty!"
"What did you say earlier?" McFarland half mocked as she watched another militiaman fall from her autopistol, "'Occupational hazard?'"
"Bad news," Yemima chimed in as she claimed another with her rifle, "They're trying to cut us off from our way out of here."
McFarland could see the situation grow more dire as the seconds passed. Even if every pull of their triggers resulted in the elimination of another threat, three more seemed to take their place.
"Windows closing." Najjar breathed to herself between shots, "Okay, it's time we stopped playing around. I'm authorizing full tac gear. On me! We're riding this Atlas out of the city!" In a blink of an eye, she discarded her robes. Revealed beneath were the form-fitted and extremely functional matte-black infiltration armor of the Independent Systems Alliance. No clear indication of origin save the lone red eagle crest emblazoned inconspicuously over the right breast. A second later her head was completely engulfed in an armored helmet.
McFarland was stunned at the sudden transformation of her companion. Just what the hell kind of technology do these people have?
Najjar didn't give her time to think as she dispatched another three assailants, "McFarland, let's move! Now's our chance!"
McFarland wasted not a second and ran for the next piece of cover within the berths. Rounds pinged off the steel behind her as Najjar covered her advance. A militia solider just meters in front of her stepped out from behind the leg of a docked Trebuchet. McFarland raised her weapon to meet the new threat, only for them to drop from a well-placed burst to the chest. She paid little heed as she replaced the fallen soldier's place at the foot of the 'mech. A quick glance from behind her new cover revealed her prize: Her Atlas AS-7. It was only thirty meters or so away, but that distance was covered by more soldiers than anticipated. The civil war should have thinned out the numbers significantly, but it seemed fate had other plans.
Najjar advanced in front of her to the other leg as more gunfire came from their support outside. Yemima and David laid down accurate lethal fire into the 'mech berth, scattering the remaining soldiers deeper into the facility.
"We'll keep their head down, Commander." David stated as he landed just inside, "You two worry about reaching the 'mech."
"Do it." Najjar ordered, "I'll pop smoke. McFarland, stay glued to me. We're gonna make a break for your Atlas as soon as it fills the room."
McFarland nodded.
"On my mark." Najjar drew a smoke grenade from her belt and threw it around their cover. The signature pop and hiss signaled the grenade's activation. She counted down, "Three. Two. One." She turned the corner and fired a few rounds, "GO!"
Baliset Transport Big Papa
Outskirts of Hermantown
It was inexplicable. From their sensors and the satellite uplink, they could see a significant shift in forces from the middle of the city to the 'mech berths in the west. Whatever hornet's nest their black bag team had kicked swarmed towards them as the transport approached.
Captain Natalie Rosswood checked her data feed one last time. Whoever this team picked up was a big fish and Hermantown was very much unwilling to let them go.
Lieutenant Commander Jacob Morgan cracked his neck in the copilot's seat, "This looks like it'll be a hairy one."
"Drop plan is right on top of the 'mech berth." Rosswood sighed, "Yeah, it'll be hairy as shit."
"Incoming from the Major." Morgan said.
"Patch him through." Dansel's face appeared on her HUD, "Got a sitrep for me, sir?"
"That black bag team's wreaked all sorts of havoc across Hermantown. Whole city's in chaos. Save for this spike in organized behavior, the rest of the city should fall within the day." Dansel confirmed.
"That's in a day." Rosswood shook her head, "We're dropping my company into the maw of this shit to extract some sort of VIP. How the hell are we gonna make it out with infantry surrounding us?"
"Your fighter escort will be available for CAS and that black bag team will help you root out resistance in the buildings."
"Sure. Four assault 'mechs in the middle of a city. What could possibly go wrong." She rolled her eyes.
"A whole hell of a lot, I know. Get your asses out of there alive and drinks are on me."
"We'll see what we can do."
"Good. Dansel out." The Major's image disappeared.
"Oh hell." Morgan piped in, "More trouble."
"What now?" Rosswood asked incredulously.
"Heavy fire coming out of the berths." Morgan punched up the details on the HUD, "Oh shit. Huge contact coming out of there. Can't tell exactly yet, but it's massive."
'Mech Berths
Bullets rang off the head of the massive hundred-ton 'mech as it emerged from the large steel double-doors. In the past year, the large cockpit of Carmela's Atlas had become what she considered her small mobile home. The interior of the notorious 'Death's Head' was large enough to fit: the various controls; the chair; a mattress; portable cooker; holovid player; and even some shelving to accompany the numerous photos of home stuck to all the empty surfaces. Once again here she was fighting in and for her home.
Najjar, David, and Yemima didn't have time to cram themselves into the already cramped cockpit and given the hostile nature of the outside world deigned to remain outside, firmly clamped to the surface of the 'mech with their currently magnetized armored boots. The three took it in turn to pick off any enemy they could detect to clear the way to their extraction point. McFarland remained focused on the task at hand, willing the hundred-ton behemoth away from the 'mech berths before any pilots could shoot her from behind. The ISA trio were doing a good job to prevent that, but it was only a matter of time before a lucky pilot would escape their accurate eyes and begin pursuit.
Before them a massive cloud of smoke and dust pierced the building that were once there. McFarland adjusted her sensors to try and make out what was in front of them. Moments before a clear reading was given, laser beams and missiles emerged from the cloud and struck whatever was behind them. A voice piped in over her comms.
"This is Commander Morgan to Atlas, what's your status, over?" the voice asked.
"McFarland to Morgan, what in the hell? Are you in the dust in front of us?"
"Yes, they are." Najjar interjected, still firing her rifle behind them, "Get our asses into the cloud so we can get the hell out of here!"
"You heard her, McFarland." Morgan stated plainly, "We gotta move."
McFarland shook her head. This wasn't what she was planning to do when she woke up today, but trouble found her anyway, "Fine. Then, you people have to tell me what the hell is going on here."
"You won't hear an argument from me." Another volley of lasers and missiles followed, along with the crack of some kind of cannon pierced past her Atlas, "Now, let's go!"
Forward Operating Base Novgorod
19 October 3022/862 AS/2007
Carmela McFarland sat down in the common area of the barracks in the FOB. Her mind raced as it tried to put together the events of the past day. She was allowed to observe a feed from the DropShip that carried them away from Hermantown what the ISA did to the city-state. Their maneuvers were precise, calculated, and adapted to what the battlefield threw at them. Companies of 'mechs advanced, supported by artillery, vehicles, and infantry into carefully plotted points in the city. Those points were held by anti-militia combatants that were in favor of the ISA taking control of their beleaguered land, to give them a chance to live like those in Port Kirin. From what little combat she witnessed while still in the city, the Hermantown Freedom Corps were much better armed and trained than standard militia. It only made sense that the ISA were the ones who bankrolled such an endeavor.
The city fell mere hours after they landed in Novgorod. The fighting over the preceding months had whittled down the militia, and the lack of leadership from the new Emperor (especially since the palace was destroyed months earlier) meant that organized resistance was nearly absent. There were still hardened pockets that the ISA had to weed out, but the city was effectively under ISA control when the sun came up. She allowed herself a breath to steady herself. She hadn't anticipated that a small periphery nation could conduct their military operations so effectively. Such people as these must have had centuries to build their prowess given their ability on the battlefield and to remain hidden from the galaxy at large. She looked around the common area. For a place so recently occupied these ISA types established a rather lavish place. A canteen, holovid projector, air conditioning, all the comforts of home in a combat zone. If this was a very minor forward base, what did Port Kirin look like after a year under their administration?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure who walked to the seat opposite her. They sat down with two trays of food and a concerned expression on their face.
"You know, food's probably a good idea." Lieutenant Commander Hanna Najjar pushed the second tray towards her, "We haven't eaten since we got back. I for one am starving."
McFarland smirked, "Thanks." She took a bite of rice. It was slightly spiced, "Huh. I wasn't expecting good flavor when it came to field rations."
"Scientists in the ISA call it 'The Mélange.'" Najjar had a bit of her own, "The fabricators can give us any sort of food and flavor we want. The science-types are really into old sci-fi, so they name their projects after all sorts of things. Apparently, this activated spice stuff is named after a thing in one of those books."
"Interesting." Carmela drifted back into her own thoughts as she ate the meal before her. 'Interesting' was a severe understatement when it came to the ISA. During the battle, she witnessed surgical precision and ruthless tactical prowess. What few 'mechs Hermantown was able to rush to the field were cut down with withering efficiency. After immediate hostilities ceased, the pilots of those same 'mechs were treated with not only respect but with benevolence unseen in the Inner Sphere. The enemy wounded were treated as well as their own soldiers, given the same level of care. In victory, they acted with honor and remorse. They gave those enemies who fell proper burials unfitting for the bandits they were, but they received all the same.
"What's on your mind?" Najjar reeled her back to reality, her fork pointed in McFarland's face, "You seem distracted."
"What will happen to Hermantown?" Carmela asked, looking her companion in the eyes.
"Same thing as what happened to Port Kirin." Najjar shrugged, "Military occupation until we establish a proper civilian administration. We'll rebuild the shattered infrastructure, root out the worst elements of the status quo, ensure the safety and prosperity of the people here. Then, elections. We incorporate them into the ISA's umbrella, and they become another nation-state in the Alliance."
She blinked at the word 'elections.' The Independent Systems Alliance was a democratic power? That was quite interesting. The Magistracy was always ruled by a Magestrix, whom was always a woman from the Centrella family, but there were many democratic organs of her government. The People's Councils, the Central Committee, drawn from popularly elected representatives from each planet of the Canopian systems. The Canopian Electors, who were elected to decide who would next receive the title of Magestrix. It boded well for future relations with this budding periphery nation.
"The governance of local affairs belongs to the people who live here. We're just here to clean up the mess."
"What of the other city-states?"
"What, you think we just left them alone? This was the spearhead in a coordinated campaign against the rest of the nearby city-states. We've hit Proctor, Konkrite, Resortland, Digger's Stop, and Malice Fist after we began with Hermantown."
"All six!?"
"Oh yeah. We and the Azami struck back. We got tired of simply allowing this status quo to stand. The massacre in Hermantown, attempts to destabilize and terrorize Port Kirin, it all came to a head after the latest attempt to attack the Port. That was the last straw. They needed to learn a lesson on who exactly they were messing with."
Camela pondered the implication of the ISA's mobilization, "…are you attempting to unify the city-states?"
"Slowly but surely, that's the plan. We know that there are more city-states along with small communities isolated from the wider universe. We just want this world to prosper, to regain what was lost in the Succession Wars. The people here have suffered enough." Hannah shrugged as she took another bite, "Unification, prosperity, and proper representation for each planet under our jurisdiction. It's what we're aiming for."
McFarland nodded in understanding. The ISA seemed like a promising ally indeed.
Port Kirin Interstellar Port
Port Kirin, Antallos
21 October 3022/862 AS/2007
Carmela shouldered her large bag of necessities after having arranged a place for her Atlas in the Port Kirin Private 'Mech Bay and the necessary maintenance. The atmosphere about her was in complete contrast to what she experienced in Hermantown. While Hermantown was a nest of despair, Port Kirin radiated an aura of hope. There was a clear vision of a bright future. When she first landed last year, Carmela didn't have the opportunity to observe Port Kirin in detail under the rule of the previous administration, but it was clear that the ISA's approach to governance inspired the doomed protestors in Hermantown that there was a better way, a better life.
The most immediate difference she noted between the old and new administration was the spaceport as she was processed through. The place was completely rebuilt: new flooring; new windows; new walls and paint; small shops which sold a variety of goods; working commodes; helpful signage to direct the flow of foot traffic and guide people to where they needed to go. She was also required to submit a form on a very sleek computer monitor which asked a variety of questions (name, age, nationality, world of origin, purpose of visit, etc.)
She was helped along by a fresh-faced ISA Marine Second Lieutenant assigned to her in recognition of her status as an important foreign national. Lieutenant Emily Duran looked as if she came straight from Officer's School, but the young woman was very helpful in efficiently filling out her forms for immigration, 'mech repair, and 'mech berth assignment.
Another interesting renovation was the presence of a holovid news service. Holoprojectors were mounted throughout the spaceport and showed reports from around Port Kirin and the ongoing combat against the city-states. Combat footage was interspersed in the broadcast from reporters embedded with ISA combat troops.
Insanity, she thought to herself. She attempted to imagine a reporter skulking about the First Canopian Light Horse. The thought was preposterous. She noted that the broadcasts were helpfully transcribed with rolling text that seemed to keep up with the mouth of the announcer on screen. She wondered if that was purposefully there for the deaf or just to allow those in noise-riddled environs to understand what was said even at a distance. Either way, it was quite convenient. She made a mental note to inquire with Lieutenant Duran about the deaf in the ISA and their treatment.
"…the office of General Davis announced that today marked the end of major combat operations in Hermantown after successfully rooting out the Emperor Selas and the last bastions of his militia forces. Selas was thought to have seized tenuous control of Hermantown after the disappearance of Generalissimo Dreadlocks Dee four months ago. Selas and his most loyal soldiers were reported to have been apprehended whilst trying to escape under the ruins of the former palace. This marks the second city to be liberated by the Independent Systems Alliance since they began their offensive just days ago. The cities of Proctor and Konkrite have put up stiffer resistance, but the ISA with the assistance of the Free Azami…"
The news cast looped every fifteen minutes. She noted that. The holovid wasn't live but simply a recording loaded into the spaceport's projector network.
When she stepped onto the streets, they were filled to the brim with people and activity. The atmosphere was serious yet jovial. Faces serious, understandable given a war was on, but smiles and pleasant banter still dotted about the place. The sheer amount of construction work told her whomever is involved in that industry must be prospering.
There was some difficulty in finding accommodation for herself. The ISA had a dedicated allotment of housing for VIPs and others considered important, but that allotment was already filled. She found that the Draconis Combine's and Federated Suns' respective diplomatic staves had taken all available residences. To rectify this, the ISA granted her a housing stipend to find housing until more VIP accommodations were built. She found a sixty square meter apartment in the heart of downtown, in the hustle and bustle of Port Kirin. Her self-imposed personal budget also gave her enough to furnish it appropriately to her liking. Depending on what happened after she sent off her letter to her parents and great aunt on Canopus IV, she had the freedom to leave the apartment as soon as she needed.
She had been composing those letters in mind ever since she learned of the shift of status quo on Antallos. News of the ISA's emergence onto the galactic stage had surely reached the Magistracy by now, but they had not received an onsite report from a loyal Canopian citizen, not with the distances involved and the fact that she assumed in the eyes of the Magistracy there were more important use of resources than to send diplomats, MIM agents, and doctors on a half-year journey well over eight-hundred light years to Antallos.
What she had seen while behind the lines of battle told her otherwise.
Carmela recalled a miraculous event on board an ISA dropship, the Smooth Operator. A critically injured soldier had taken a turn for the worse as he was carried from an Infantry Fighting Vehicle. The military physicians put him down right in the 'mech bay as he was writhing and shaking to work to save his life. Doctors tried everything in their large medkits to stabilize the man, but it looked grim. From the other end of the 'mech bay another doctor emerged with a syringe and plunged it straight through the man's chest into his heart. In but moments the man stopped writhing and his breathing stabilized. The doctors looked at one another, relieved that they saved a life. When she looked back at the man, syringe still in his chest, she noted how the bleeding stopped and the wounds he sustained healed at an alarming rate. The doctors pressed some buttons on their wrist-mounted computers and shook hands.
The medical skill and technology on display impressed her. She followed one of the doctors and found herself in the medbay. She came up with a plausible tale, a complaint of a headache. She was given a mild analgesic in yellow pill form.
The Magistracy traded in medical skill in the form of doctors that were but a shadow of what their ancestors were capable of before the Reunification and Succession Wars. Even then, they were still much better than the non-existent medical care on some planets of the neighboring Free Worlds League, the more distant Aurigan Coalition, and most of the Inner Sphere save major House worlds. The medical technology on display in that med bay were quite impressive: sixteen beds filled with patients surrounded by screens displaying all manner of information to the doctors and nurses; stocked pharmacy; laboratory; dental station; even a large device that she couldn't decipher its use from a glance.
There was an opportunity here for the Magistracy to regain what was once lost, and perhaps even exceed it. It was quite the exciting idea.
White Sands Launch Complex 16
White Sands Missile Base
Earth, Independent Systems Alliance Space
27 October 2007/862 AS/3022
The work had gone on for three months. Technicians and scientists swarmed all over the facility to begin the day's test on their newest device. An experienced 'mech technician would recognize the device as a standard Inner Sphere medium laser, a Defiance Industries B3M to be exact. There were some key differences, however: The focusing array was different, and the power output maximum was dramatically increased.
Upon examination of numerous lasers salvaged and retrieved from Antallos, scientists from the ISA and Earth, with the assistance of the thawed-out Star League engineers, noted that the focusing array was not nearly as precisely cut as they should be. Discussion with their Star League counterparts confirmed this: standard laser focusing arrays often went to the lowest bidder, thereby 'excusing' the poor quality. The purpose of today's test would be to determine if improving the focusing array had any discernable effect, to see if they could pump more power into a standard laser without effecting its service life, and to determine if this could be a cost-effective way to upgrade Inner Sphere lasers.
An alarm sounded, a signal to everyone to get to their designated positions.
"Improved Medium Laser Test shot one. Firing in three. Two. One." A beam of hyper concentrated light lanced out and impacted the cubic meter block of IS-grade armor at nine-hundred meters, the absolute maximum effective range of IS medium lasers on armor.
"Impact confirmed. Wait for the results…" A camera and multitude of sensors focused on the target and recorded everything.
"Confirmed. Clean burn, consistent with a standard medium laser burn at optimal range. No increase to heat output from the laser. Increasing distance to target."
One of the Earth-born scientists turned to their Star League colleague, "Did the Star League ever do this kind of thing?"
They shook their head, "Not really. From what I recall, we usually just rebuilt the laser to accept more power. Roughly the same results we're seeing here, but with near double the heat output…" They rubbed their chin, "If a better focusing array can increase the effective range without out increased heat output, if we increased the power…"
An ISA scientist smiled, "Oh, it's not a question of 'if' we can. It's a question of if the laser can take it."
Another shot fired from the laser into the armor, this time at a kilometer and a half, camera and sensors dedicated to their data collection.
"Holy hell. We did it. We've created the first Extended Range Medium Laser in the Inner Sphere in centuries…" The Earth-born scientist bore a wide grin, "Next shot, Doctor?" they asked the ISA scientist.
"By all means. Increase power by one hundred percent and maintain distance. Let's see if IS tech can handle the heat."
"Improved Medium Laser Power Test shot one. Firing in thee. Two. One." An even more intense burst of light came from the laser and carved into its target.
"Results?" the Star League engineer asked.
"Double the heat output, but… double the damage. No noticeable effect on the laser. Damage greater than an Inner Sphere Large Laser. My God…"
"Fantastic!" the ISA scientist clapped their hands together, "Now, swap this kit out with another Medium Laser, different manufacturer. I think we just might have a refit kit on our hands."
Foreign Legion Workshop
First Combined Army Headquarters
Antallos, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
5 November 3022/862 AS/2007
Captain Natalie Rosswood stepped carefully over the mess of parts, half-assembled weapons, and general organized chaos that characterized her good friend Danielle 'Dani' MacShuibhne's workspace. Dani was clearly deep into her work on something or another, the corner of the workshop illuminated periodically with the harsh glow of a plasma torch.
The air smelled of burnt ozone, sweat, and melted plastic. Natalie had to restrain her gag reflex. Dani always worked or something or another, but she was afraid that it would lead to a premature death down the line. Another plasma glow. Natalie could make out the slender silhouette of her friend. Natalie walked closer, Dani's figure dressed in a blue technician's jumpsuit and welding mask over her face hunched over her workbench.
"Dani?" Natalie cocked her head.
Dani looked up, pushed the welding mask up, and turned to face her, her grease-stained face revealed, "Hey, Nat! How's it?"
"Good, actually. What're ya workin' on?" Natalie peered at the workbench. It was a grey box with thick black pipes coming off it. Refrigerator of some kind, personal maybe? Perhaps. She and Dani were known to indulge from time to time, but only recreationally.
"Oh, this? Freezer, or it will be when I'm done."
"For?"
"Heatsinks. It's supposed to help with efficiency. After working on your Battlemaster for so long, I think I got the gist of how it works."
"Why…?" Natalie cocked her head again and sat down on a nearby folding chair.
"Request from the ISA. They got all sorts of techs, but I'm the one with the most experience with Star League-era tech. They wanted to see a proof of concept for something called a coolant pod, and I think this'll work."
"Huh. Something like this was in my ride the whole time?"
"Not exactly like this." Dani lifted the box up, the pipes dangled on the right and left, "Yours is bulkier and doesn't have all the cool ISA toys inside."
As Natalie was about to continue the conversation, Major Tony Dansel and Lieutenant Commander Jacob Morgan entered. Dansel loudly banged his foot on a half-disassembled small laser.
"SHIT!" Dansel clutched his leg in agony, "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"
Morgan shrugged, shook his head, and continued forward without his commanding officer. Morgan and Natalie saluted one another with wry grins on their faces.
"Dani, Nat." Jacob finished his salute.
"Jacob. Major." Nat returned the gesture. She was certainly settled in as a military officer.
Dansel took a couple deep breaths and caught up with Morgan, "Heya Natalie, Danielle. Sorry about the mess."
"You should really look where you're going, Major," Jacob gave Dansel a side eye, "Might actually break something one of these days."
"I haven't opted in for those fancy implants yet, Jacob. I'll get to it eventually, just don't like needles."
Natalie rolled her eyes, "You're still afraid of needles? You've been in some of the most intense combat I've ever seen in my 'mech career and you're still hung up on needles?"
"Not you too! Look, I'll get to it eventually." Dansel shook his head, "Look, I'm here to get your company those drinks I owe you. Can you lay off the insults, please?"
"Right, sorry sir." Nat blinked, "Wait, what the hell implants are you talking about, Jacob?"
"That is to be discussed over a good drink." Jacob looked over at Dani, "I know this is probably not my… best idea, but given you're already here would you care to join us, Dani?"
Dani smirked, "Oh, I would be delighted to come. You don't mind, do you Nat?"
"Why would I?" Natalie sighed as she stood up and took a step towards Jacob, "I hope you know what you're unleashing again." She whispered to him
"Well aware. Just give me a hand, please?" Morgan whisper-pleaded in reply.
"You know how I get too. No promises." She winked.
"Fuck." Morgan whispered through gritted teeth.
"Oh, Natalie, quick question for you." Dansel straightened out his uniform.
"Sir?" Rosswood asked.
"How would you feel about a permanent commission in the ISA?"
Buster's Busted Bar
Natalie sat at the bar and got her beer. She mulled over Dansel's proposal. A permanent commission… the jump from mercenary to military woman seemed like a chasm from where she sat. She was the 'Black Widow,' the self-styled queen with a lostech Battlemaster that could outgun anything the sphere could throw at her. She had seen some of the darkest, most vile aspects of humanity during her relatively short career and was quite convinced that she would die on some unknown world for some low-life scum. The ISA changed that. Jacob worming his way into her life saved her from nuclear oblivion, and the people of Earth and the ISA hiring her ensured financial security she never thought possible, but that contract would end.
Danielle and Jacob sat on either side of her, drinks in hand.
"Hell of a thing to mull over, eh?" Morgan noted.
"Yeah." Natalie took a sip of her beer, "Never considered I'd stay with you guys forever."
"Why not?" Dani asked.
"I'm a mercenary mechwarrrior. I'm used to hopping from hotspot to hotspot, fueling and putting out fires for paying customers. It's what we do. To stick around… I honestly dunno…"
"I echo Dani here: Why not?" Morgan asked.
"Just… It's all I know. After drifting from world to world, hoping to get a break, you just get used to it." Natalie shrugged.
"The eternal dream, to forge one's own destiny." Jacob smiled wistfully, "There is an air of romanticism about it, certainly."
"Yeah, but reality sucks that out the airlock real quick. Scrounging from planet to planet, always on the razor's edge of bankruptcy, pushing through battlefields for some kind of backwards-ass objective."
"No need to remind me." Dani took a long sip of her beer, "Still, better than what Antallos used to be."
"What about Antallos now?" Morgan sipped his own, "How'd we do?"
"More than I could have ever hoped." Dani gave Morgan a very serious look, "So much has changed, it's amazing."
"What are you talking about?" Natalie looked incredulously at her longtime friend, "Not that much has changed here."
"Look around the sphere, Nat. In the rest of successor states, what do they do? They fight forever, but nothing changes. If anything, it just gets worse as we keep smashing tech that can't be replaced just to keep it out of someone else's hands. You know that the Star League used to have thousands of Battlemasters just like yours? Top of the line assault 'mechs, decked to the nines in weapons and gear. Guess what happened. The factories were smashed and all the spares disappeared as they kept getting destroyed over the years."
"But-"
"The ISA have manufactured 'mechs that no one has ever seen before, and according to them this is the first time they've even tried their hand at it. Have you seen the Kartikeya? The design is something the Inner Sphere has never seen before. Brand new, incorporating new technologies and design philosophies either never seen or haven't been seen in centuries. The drones you see flying everywhere, they've rebuilt Port Kirin from a festering hole into a beacon of the periphery. For the first time ever, I'm proud to have come from Antallos."
"Dani…"
"I grew up here. The changes compared to even two years ago…"
"They would have been impossible." Jacob finished her sentence, "Hell, even I can't believe what we've done in such a short amount of time.
"Exactly." Dani drank deep from her pint, "I was convinced, absolutely convinced, that nothing would ever change." Her voice broke for a moment, "I resigned myself to the idea that my only chance to escape was being the fucktoy of some two-bit pirate to get away from this rock. So, I signed on with you, Nat. I never imagined that things could change here. I thought my only chance was a life sailing the stars." She fought back tears, her breathing grew a bit more ragged.
Natalie and Jacob put their arms around her, "Hey," Natalie looked in her eyes, "it wasn't that bad, was it? We had good times, right?"
"Nat, you never lived here. You're a 'mechwarrior, with a fuck-off huge 'mech. You never saw how it was for the little people. If you don't have the power to defend yourself, you were nothing here."
"But we changed that." Jacob reassured her as he had his arm around her, "We turned this hellhole around."
"Yeah." Dani sniffed, "Yeah you all did. You guys are the first I've ever seen that have a plan, a real plan, for the future. I just have to look around and see what that looks like."
Natalie sighed, "You have a point."
Dansel approached the trio from behind, "So, whaddya think, Natalie? Care to sign on after the contract expires?"
Natalie glanced over her shoulder as Jacob comforted Dani. They gave her a lot to think about. She was pretty well integrated with the Foreign Legion at this point. Her 'mech company was mixed with pilots from the Cav, ISA, and Foreign Legion recruits. She didn't have to worry about logistics, management, whether or not her merc company had enough money to scrape by after each engagement. Before they hit Motherlode, her company was already circling the drain. The most she really had to worry about was her after action reports and keeping her weapons pointed to the enemy. She also considered the moral fiber of the ISA, her own repressed from her years combing the stars for contracts. The ISA legitimately gave people something to believe in, something to work towards. The hope for a better tomorrow was a real motivating factor, and even she wasn't blind to the effects that the ISA had on Antallos.
There were downsides. She would lose that sense of freedom that came from mercenary work. She would no longer be in charge of what fights to take when, but realistically finances determined what contracts her company took. The pay wouldn't be as good but given that she would no longer worry about operational expenses, it might be a net gain. Her cons were drying up real quick.
The biggest pro of all was being given more opportunities to be around Jacob Morgan. Their relationship had blossomed as well as any plant under the Antallos sun, which is to say not all that well without great effort and assistance. Their divergent schedules meant that they hardly had any chance to interact outside of combat missions. Maybe, just maybe, if she officially signed on a relationship might have a chance.
Now there was only one real question in her mind: how would the rest of her company react? Dani was very much on board. She was enraptured by the potential the ISA provided. Brox? That man had gained much as these folks gave him a real voice again. He was most likely on board. El Nix. Despite his flamboyant nature and flair for the dramatic, he was a pragmatist first and foremost. He would be easy to convince. The rest of her company would follow her, given they looked up to her like a big sister.
Natalie turned around to face Major Dansel, "Alright, Dansel. You win."
"That was faster than I expected." Dansel took a sip of his beer, "I thought I'd need at least a day to try to convince you."
"What?" Natalie was confused.
"You were the last holdout of your company, Captain."
"Wait, what-" She turned incredulously to Dani who was comfortably nestled against Morgan, "When did you agree to sign on?"
"Few days ago. I just wanted to make sure you signed on." Dani gave her a warm smile, "Glad to see I don't have to leave my best friend behind."
Natalie shook her head with a smile. They got her, hook line and sinker, but she wasn't mad about it. She had to admit to herself that this was probably one of the best things that could happen to her.
Port Kirin Downtown Hub
8 November 3022/2007/862 AS
Dear Carmela,
It was with great relief and joy that I received your letter. We knew you would be out of contact for an extended period of time, but with Antallos' reputation and especially with the recent conflict on the world, the family had feared the worst for the past year. However, I had faith in you, in your abilities and training. I had to remind your parents that it would take more than some backwater pirate scum to kill a McFarland. Their worries have eased since your letter, yet they would like nothing more than to see you return. No doubt they have expressed such in their holovid message to you.
I too would like nothing more than to see you again, but I am afraid that our duty to the Magistracy must come first. You are in a unique position there and as you have communicated your willingness to serve in whatever role the Magistracy requires, it would be foolish to ask you to return home.
Before I get to that, I must say that I appreciate your thorough report on the situation there, and on the emergent Independent Systems Alliance. This new periphery power is of great interest to the MIM and the Magistracy. As your report stated: the potential for trade, despite the relative distance between our nations, is an attractive proposition. Therefore, we need to establish diplomatic relations with the ISA.
Unfortunately, distance is still a major issue. Assembling a proper diplomatic mission is currently unfeasible with our assets engaged elsewhere. We must sidestep this problem. Sending a new and inexperienced ambassador is out of the question, therefore we are attempting to coax our retiring FedSuns Ambassador to remain in the diplomatic corps and join you in establishing an embassy to the ISA. Even if the Magestrix succeeds in convincing her cousin, it will take some time for her replacement to arrive and only then can she make the four-month journey from New Avalon.
Consequently, the Magestrix has ordered that you be appointed Temporary Ambassador to the ISA. You will find your credentials and access to a new ambassadorial expense account attached to this letter. Congratulations, Carmela. I realize that you are not a wordsmith, but it is what the Magistracy requires of you. I know you and I trust that you will represent our nation to the best of your ability and further its interests.
With respect to beginning a mutual exchange of medical skill and knowledge, the closest Magistracy Doctor who can readily join you is currently stationed on Kinkaid II in the Outworlds Alliance. He recently indicated his wish to move on to a new assignment. I have attached his dossier which will tell you all you will need to know. Orders have already been sent for him to settle his affairs and catch the first available transport to Antallos.
The Magestrix has also sent an official communique to Ambassador Smith of the ISA, along with your current address in Port Kirin.
As time goes on, I will keep an eye out for more support that can be sent your way.
Yours Sincerely,
Estelle McFarland
425
Carmela rested the letter from her aunt and gazed out her apartment window. Her abode had an astonishing view overlooking the city and expansive lake that reflected the planet's star.
Temporary Ambassador?
It seemed that it might be a touch more temporary if Elizabeth Centrella, cousin to Magestrix Kyalla Centrella, couldn't be convinced to remain in the diplomatic corps. The woman was in her late fifties and had twenty-five years of ambassadorship to the FedSuns under her belt. She would be looking forward to a six-month journey through space back to Canopus IV and retirement from government service to spend time with her family. Carmela was tempted to write a letter back to tell her aunt not to rush to find a replacement and that she would be glad to accept her new role as Ambassador.
That would not go over well, however. That she was bestowed this honor by order of the Magestrix was enough. It would be another prick in egos of the Frones, at least. She wished she could see the looks on their stuck-up faces when this circulated about court. The McFarland family had long been part of the Girin, the newest class of nobility in the Magistracy. They were those who had, in the past or present, performed exceptionally in service to the state in civil and military matters. It all started with her grandfather: He was a Command Sergeant in the First Canopian Light Horse who became a double ace as a 'mechwarrior against a Marik incursion. With the family's entry into Girin nobility, Carmela's father became a diplomat. Her mother would choose to marry him as she herself was a Durachi noble whose family earned its title through merchant wealth.
Carmela looked over the letter again and seated herself on the couch in the small living room of her apartment. She picked up a recently acquired quality mechanical pencil from her coffee table and opened a manila envelope. She retrieved the one-time encryption pad, referenced the number 425, and began to decode the letter. It was tedious work, but ten minutes later her task was complete.
From Director Foreign Affairs,
Negotiate purchase of any ISA tech made available. Opportunity to enhance MAF.
Reinstated. Promoted to Commander for actions in BOH. More to follow.
Congrats.
She sighed, "No rest for the weary."
She turned her attention to the dossier of the physician assigned to her.
Doctor Edwin Gale Richard. Forty-two, born on Luxen, graduated fourth in his class from University of Canopus. Eight years practicing medicine on Lindenmarie and Fanadir. Assigned to the FedSuns on New Avalon before most recent assignment in the Outworlds Alliance.
He seemed to be competent and experienced on paper. This certainly seemed like a good candidate for a medical exchange.
She wondered how long it would take for Ambassador Smith to get in contact with her. It would probably be a good idea to get her old uniform out and see about alterations to her Ensign's diamonds to reflect her new rank.
Lieutenant Commander Hannah Najjar leaned against the wall beside the door to apartment 1512 in the newest apartment high-rise in the Downtown Hub. She noted that McFarland managed to snag a corner apartment as she looked out the window beside her. A view of the glistening lake that persisted through the Succession Wars greeted her. For all Antallos' faults, this planet managed to stun her somehow. She brushed the sleeve of her dress uniform, one she had not once worn since her arrival on world over a year ago. The deep black uniform, crimson highlights, and golden epaulets were in stark contrast to her work, and it made her feel somewhat exposed. Better to be in her civilian-type getup, but the brass wanted to make a good impression, especially after the slight kerfuffle from earlier this morning.
It all began when the newly appointed Canopian Ambassador answered the door that morning to receive her summons from Lieutenant Duran. When that door opened, she noted in her own words that McFarland was 'in her birthday suit. Holy hell, I've never seen someone so… gorgeous.' Najjar knew of the Lieutenant's personal preferences, and she was inclined to believe her, but that wouldn't distract her from the task at hand.
She knocked on McFarland's door and stood at the ready. She figured that her presence would be the last thing the new Ambassador would expect.
"Good afternoon… Najjar? I wasn't expecting you."
Najjar let the moment breathe a bit, "I know. You were expecting some Captain from the Marine Army, but they decided to send me." She extended her hand.
McFarland grasped her hand and gave it a warm shake. Her dark blue dress uniform was similar to her own. Najjar noted the two hollow diamonds on her collar and the golden collars and cuffs. McFarland motioned behind her to the two large cases of luggage sat in the middle of her living room.
"Would you be so kind?" McFarland asked with a smirk.
"What, you expect me to carry those?" Najjar snapped her fingers. From down the hall, a pair of small drones flew down to the door and hovered behind her, "We're a civilized nation. We have machines for that." The two black-red drones flew behind McFarland, retrieved the luggage, and set themselves ready to follow, "If you'll follow me, Ambassador."
McFarland shrugged and followed behind Najjar as she led them to the elevator and toward their destination. The elevator brought them to the subterranean ground vehicle park where a nondescript civilian-looking vehicle awaited. It resembled a large ground car, but with slightly more bulk. The vehicle itself was black and its windows were completely opaque. The drones loaded the luggage into the rear of the vehicle then folded themselves into the roof, completely blending into the rest of the vehicle. A rear door opened before Najjar, who motioned for McFarland to enter. She nodded and climbed into the ground car. Najjar followed her in and closed the door behind them. The vehicle pulled forward and proceeded to the exit of the vehicle park to the street.
"Small footprint for an escort. Not expecting trouble, I see." McFarland noted.
"We always expect trouble, McFarland. We're just good at blending in." Najjar replied.
"I see." She looked out the window to the people on the street. Despite the relative speed of their travel, she could see the streets were calm. That air of hope and peace she experienced when she first arrived was undampened, even with recent reports of insurgent attacks against ISA soldiers and checkpoints. She was surprised to be transported in a civilian vehicle.
"What happens if we encounter trouble, Najjar?" McFarland asked.
"While the likelihood of getting attacked is quite low, we have contingency plans. Not to mention, short of an AC-20, nothing is penetrating this vehicle. Hell, that thing would need to shoot twice anyways."
McFarland stared at her, mouth agape before slowly drawing it closed. That level of confidence could get you killed, but given what she'd seen in battle this car could back up that claim.
It took a scant fifteen uneventful minutes for their car to arrive at the main gates of the Port Kirin Administration Building. It was different from what she remembered: walls looked new, garden flourished, a new fountain was installed, the former palace had been completely refurbished. The guard at the gate waved them through after they checked their credentials, the visible blockades and advanced turret systems withdrawn into hidden ground compartments. The ground car pulled up to the end of a traditional red carpet, flanked by an honor guard of ISA Marines, outfitted in their dress blacks and parade rifles. Ambassador Smith awaited them at the head of the red carpet, ready to open the door. When McFarland emerged, the brass band on the lawn began to play the Canopian national anthem. It was the first time McFarland had heard it with her own ears in years, and as soon as she heard the first measure she began to tear up. Smith smiled as they reached the end of the red carpet, turned around, and listened to the rest of the Canopian national anthem, followed by the Independent Systems Alliance national anthem. When the last song played, the two Ambassadors turned about and entered the Administration Building.
Gunnery Sergeant Titus O'Neil, their driver for this outing, turned back towards Commander Najjar.
"Hey, we gonna be bodyguards from now on?"
"Gods, I hope not. I can understand what brass was thinking, assigning us for this. We did rescue her from Hermantown and we are the most familiar faces in the ISA she has." Najjar shook her head, "I hope that this assignment isn't a permanent one."
Conference Hall, Diplomatic Wing
Port Kirin Administration Building
Carmela sat down on what could be mistaken on any other world as a throne, its cushions seemed to adapt to form and felt like she sat upon a cloud. The comfort was so relaxing that she closed her eyes a moment and enjoyed being sat among the sky. She opened her eyes and regarded a room that looked from the heyday of the Star League, the completely opposite of the dingy conference room in Hermantown before the palace there was destroyed. The floors soft, pristine carpet; pleasant lighting; a fine wooden table polished to a mirror sheen; artwork from what looked to be ancient Terra; the room was an example of the wealth of the Independent Systems Alliance. Directly across from her sat Ambassador Charles Smith with a large diplomatic folder before him. He was bemused by her enjoyment of the chair.
"If this is what your office chair is like, Ambassador Smith, it's a wonder you get any work done."
Smith smirked, "Herman Miller makes phenomenal chairs. While I admit my personal office chair isn't as fine as these, there is a reason offices across Earth opt for their brand. Oh, before we begin," he motioned to the fine china and carafe on a silver tray between them, "may I offer some coffee before we begin?"
She nodded eagerly. Motherlode coffee was a delicacy in Port Kirin. The treasured beans sold out so fast that there were long queues outside the supply stores when a Motherlode DropShip landed the day before. She managed to purchase a tin of a brand called 'Jacobs' and saved every cup she made of it.
She popped the lid off the carafe and savored the smell of hot coffee that wafted from the open vessel. She poured herself a cup, added sugar, and took a sip.
"Oh goodness." She could hardly restrain her delight, "This is absolutely divine, Ambassador. What type of coffee is this?"
"Jamaican Blue Mountain. It is the most expensive coffee in the CSN." He took a sip of his own cup, "I do wish they would let us indulge more often, but there is only so much of it that grows at this specific grade."
She sighed in delight, "I can taste why." She forced herself to refocus on the purpose of the day, "I must take this opportunity to congratulate your government on its recent victories against the six hostile city-states."
"Thank you." Smith nodded.
"Speaking on behalf of the Magistracy, we are delighted to see another nation that despises slavery and guarantees the personal liberties of its people. I am glad to see the ISA actively promote this platform."
"The Independent Systems Alliance is dedicated to the protection and dissemination of its values. We appreciate the difficulties of maintaining such a system, but we have the infrastructure in place to commit to these goals."
Carmela took a moment to parse Smith's statement as she took another sip, "Now, shall we proceed to the agenda of the day?"
"Of course." Smith opened his folder. Carmela did the same.
"The Magistracy of Canopus wishes to pursue a relationship with the Independent Systems Alliance that would see an exchange of knowledge and in time trade."
"What does the Magistracy offer?" Smith knew the answer already, but they both understood the motions of politics.
"Sometime in January next year a Magistracy physician will arrive on Antallos. He will take up residence in the new Embassy but will open a clinic in Port Kirin, perhaps even seek to work in the new hospital in the downtown core. Our physicians have practical medical experience and knowledge that date back to the Star League. Most of them travel with small libraries of books and holodisks with that medical knowledge. Much of it assumes the availability of medical technology that no longer exists in the Inner Sphere. That which still does only resides on Canopus IV. The ability to produce such technology has been lost save for those production lines we've preserved. Unfortunately, we have lost the technical expertise to work these factories. What we propose is in exchange for this medical knowledge, the ISA send technicians to Canopus to aid in rebuilding and restarting these production lines. We also have Aerospace and BattleMech factories that would benefit from refit, repair, and education. It would benefit Canopian security to be able to product more military assets every year and rely less on mercenary companies to hold the line against intrusion. The resulting goods from the production lines would then be offered to the ISA first at a favorable rate."
"We certainly appreciate the need." Smith mused aloud, "I personally understand what a massive godsend this medical knowledge would be to the ISA. While our own medical technology is impressive, there are holes in our knowledge. We have historical records of what your ancestors were capable of: Genetic mastery to the point of engineering a viable mermaid; Implants capable of all manner of feats; artificial organs with zero rejection from the patient. It is impressive if the record is to be believed."
"The mermaid is an extreme example and from our own records it was only achieved once. We don't know what happened to her. Stories tell of a heroic 'mechwarrior who spirited her away in a tank and released her into one of the oceans of Eleusis before House Marik seized that world from us. It's more likely that she was killed in the attack on the planet."
Smith allowed himself a somber nod, "To return to the proposed exchange, the ISA is concerned that if we assist with the refurbishment of your military factories it may provoke your neighbors."
Carmela held back the urge to snap back in a very undiplomatic fashion. She remembered an anecdote from her father, 'If you were angry and the meeting was headed in a direction contrary to our principles, politely excuse yourself and leave the room.' She took a slightly more aggressive sip of coffee and formulated a response.
"Let the Magistracy worry about that."
Smith nodded with understanding, "Very well. Another issue would be the safety of our technicians and engineers."
"They would be conferred the utmost consideration and protection the Magistracy can provide. We could even see about hiring a protection detail to accompany them on the journey."
"That is a bit too overt for our liking."
"You think word would spread and someone may try to abduct them.
Smith's passive face belied the answer.
"Which House?" Carmela narrowed her gaze.
"Why would you assume a Successor State?"
"Surely each of them would love to divine your technological prowess through one of your people."
"That may be the case. However, there is little chance for success here on Antallos."
"So, if we can assure secrecy-"
"In transit that would be a minor concern. It is when they are assigned to the factories in question where we harbor reservations."
"Someone may try to stop them from completing their assignments planetside…"
Smith's silence spoke volumes.
"What do you base this belief on?"
"Forgive my indiscretion, but it would be folly to believe that potential adversaries would leave those factories unobserved. These… detractors may take exception to their restitution and take regrettable actions. You must understand our hesitation for putting valuable people in harm's way."
"I see." She mulled over the potential adversaries: The Capellan Confederation with their Maskirovka and the Free Worlds League with SAFE. Both nations had the resources and capability to attempt such acts. "How about this: the ISA technical teams would work in secret, amongst the Canopian staff. If there are sleepers in our factories, we will root them out."
"If this proposal were to be ratified, then I believe inter-organizational cooperation is a must. Our intelligence services would have to cooperate to ensure that the factories could be repaired without incident."
"The Magistracy Intelligence Ministry has a long operational history." Carmela explained to Smith, "It has been our eyes and dagger since before the Reunification War. We fought the SLDF, House Marik, House Liao, and the Taurian Concordat. Our nation still stands."
"You misunderstand my statement. I am not implying the incompetence of MIM, but the need for our countries to work together towards a common goal."
McFarland took a breath to steady herself, "I shall communicate this to the Magistracy."
"Thank you very much. Now, onto the next agenda item," He handed across a map from his folder, "There are a number of buildings around the Administration Building that are available for the Magistracy's embassy."
McFarland examined the map and the potential buildings. She noted two multistory structures across the street from one another: one emblazoned with House Davion's blazing sun and sword covered in yellow; the other emblazoned with House Kurita's stylized black dragon draped in red. She scoffed to herself. It made sense that both of these 'Great Houses' would festoon their embassies so. A three-story building caught her eye. An appropriate size, recently renovated, interior just needed to be properly furnished, it would fit the purposes of the Magistracy nicely.
"Before I forget, I must thank your people, Ambassador." McFarland noted as she looked up from the map.
"Oh?" Smith was genuinely curious.
"I'm sure your file on me noted my deafness. Thanks to those who escorted me today and helped retrieve me from Hermantown, I can hear. For that, I cannot express my gratitude enough." She bowed her head in respect.
"Thank them, Ambassador. They are the ones who deserve your recognition."
Office of the Systems Security Service
First Combined Army Headquarters
10 November 862 AS/2007/3022
First brief of the day lay on her desk. Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda pushed the touchscreen button and activated her neural link and holoprojector. The data, while useful directly downloaded, still needed the more human touch of observation from without. It was something that was greatly emphasized by herself and Bashar Marcus Scarman in any form of intelligence operation. The first items of the day were from their daily ComStar intercept. Reports of a dropship's destruction in a far-off world called Coromodir as a result of a coup in a nation called the Aurigan Coalition, now called the Aurigan Directorate. The dropship apparently carried the newly coronated High Lady Kamea Arano and was destroyed by Directorate forces.
News of this nature was not uncommon, but their lack of knowledge of a periphery nation shook her. She knew there would be gaps in the sourcebooks, but to leave out an entire nation? How was that possible? She delved into her internal database for the contact routing to the ISA Deep Archives. An image of a secretary virtual intelligence interface appeared before her.
"Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda, requesting access to ISA Deep Archives."
The VI's image shuddered for a moment, "Authorization confirmed, access grated. Please state search query."
"Search archives for all material related to the BattleTech fictional universe. Compile information and upload to Antallos node and personal database."
"Confirmed. Searching." An estimated time counter appeared in front of the VI's image, "Estimated time until task completion: thirty minutes."
"Thank you. Set auditory ping when task completes."
"Confirmed." The holographic image of the virtual intelligence disappeared, replaced by more news from around the galaxy. News of conflicts between the Houses, pirate raids, all a part of the normal news cycle. One item stood out from the ComStar roundup: a pirate raid on Bad News, a border world along the FedSun-Combine border. The raid itself was not significant, it was how it was conducted: Reports of five 'mech companies operating in efficient tandem with one another; Combine officers and personnel missing in action; 'mechs were walked off the battlefield intact. This was a signature mentioned in one particular intelligence report…
"Computer," Maeda ordered, "bring up the file on the Black Lightning Raiders. Highlight suspected modus operandi and cross reference with this news report."
"Executing." Her personal VI brought up relevant parts of the interviews from US prisoner interrogations in Guantanamo Bay and highlighted the parts of the news report that lined up with the footage.
"We just might have a hit here… Computer, open a secure channel with Bashar Scarman."
"Confirmed." The VI's image emerged from her holoprojector, displacing the news reports and prisoner footage, "Connection secure. Channel open." The VI disappeared and Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman's image stood before her in her office.
"Sir," Maeda stood and saluted.
"At ease, Captain. What do you have for me?" Marcus' image sat down in one of her chairs.
"Information regarding the Black Lightning Raiders and hopefully more relevant intelligence from our own historical archives." Maeda sat back down and transmitted the information she had.
Scarman examined the holoprojector's information, "Well, given the Deep Archive isn't done yet, let's start with the Raiders."
"Sir." She brought up the news report from today, "This pirate raid seems to match the suspected MO of the Black Lightning Raiders, at least according to prisoner reports from Guantanamo Bay. The raid was on the world of Bad News, reportedly from about three weeks ago. It wasn't considered pressing by ComStar, so we didn't receive word of it until now."
Scarman examined the information, "Quite interesting. I thought we hit a dead end after that interrogation session. Ayatori doesn't appear in any sourcebook, even among the clans. If this is the first raid in months, then maybe we can finally build a trail."
"I'm hoping so as well. If we could spare a Gesserit-class to tail these sightings-"
"We can't spare such a valuable asset for a ghost, at least not yet. You're going to have to work with what you have."
Maeda nodded, "Understood, sir."
"Now what was that about information from the Deep Archive?"
"Well, as you can see from this other report, there is a nation in the periphery known as the Aurigan Coalition that has recently fallen to internal strife. What troubles me is that there is nothing in Earth's sourcebooks mentioning this nation. It may be a young nation from what I could gather but given the fact that much of the information from the sourcebooks has been relatively sound it disturbs me that there is no mention of it in the current source material."
"So, you think mention of it may be in our own historical database?"
"It's worth a shot. To them the year is two-thousand-seven. It stands to reason that the BattleTech franchise developed more in subsequent years."
"We'll see, Captain."
"Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda," her VI announced, "information query downloaded and parsed for your perusal."
"I'll download a copy as well," Scarman said, his eyes rolled back into their sockets for a moment.
Maeda closed her eyes and reviewed the data sent from the Deep Archive, "Oh, here we are. A sourcebook from twenty-nineteen. Based on a video game… wait, they retconned this nation in?"
"Gods." Scarman opened his eyes, "The absurdity of it all. If this is true, then in three years Kamea Arano will conduct a campaign to retake the Aurigan Reach with a mercenary company as the tip of the spear. Oh, wait, there's data here from the video game…"
"I see it too, Bashar. In the Artru system: Castle Nautilus. A trove of intact technology, perhaps even another memory core."
"According to this, there are quite a few intact Star League-era 'mechs. These would serve well as research items and foreign aid after our people are done with them." Scarman stroked his chin, "Perhaps while the situation in the Reach is in flux, we could spare a Gesserit out there. I think a delay on infiltrating the First Circuit on Dieron would be fine for the Gaius Helen Mohiam."
"If I may point out a possible benefit, sir: If the game and sourcebook is the be believed, then Kamea Arano is alive and will be working to consolidate enough power to retake the Reach. If we can tip the scales, perhaps using the Magistracy as an intermediary, then we could have a valuable buffer state that could draw attention away from us on the other side of known space while ensuring a much more intact Aurigan Coalition at the end of the civil war."
"I'll bring this up during the next meeting of the Basharate and Civilian Council." Scarman gave Maeda a smile, "Good work, Captain."
"Thank you, sir." Maeda grinned, "It's what you put me here for."
DropShip Blazing Cat
Nadir Jump Point
Santiago System, Unclaimed Space
12 November 3022
"NO!"
Star Captain Anya Rosse awoke with a start. She gulped down lung-fulls of recycled air in an attempt to wrest control of her body. Her heart felt as though it would leap free from her chest. She blinked hard to free herself from the confines of the dream world, to refocus herself in the present. She felt the tepid sweat on her skin and in her bedding, encouraging her to rise. Hands trembling, she fumbled with the buckles and restraints that held her in her bed-rack whilst in zero-g. After a minute of clumsily fumbling with the locks, she was free of her mattress. She pushed away from her bedding and began one of the calming exercises learned in her sibko. Rosse slowly steadied her breathing, her rapid heartrate eased.
Far too real. She thought to herself with a frown, her winkles and worry lines tightened, Another sign sent to keep me upon the true path.
She pushed off a wall and floated into her fresher. Rosse turned on the lights within and stared at her reflection above the zero-g sink. Her deep green eyes stared back at her, belying the experience of her years. The rigors of combat, the burdens she carried, the strength and determination earned over her time in the universe. She ran a hand through her raven hair, specked with strands of white. In a few months she would turn forty-six, an age where, despite her Bloodname, would see the beginning of the end as a warrior amongst the Clans. However, within Clan Nova Cat she would still be valued as a warrior much longer. Her skills had yet to dull and she was one of few warriors to hold the gift of multiple visions and dreams.
Such a path would have required me to have not been branded a criminal and sentenced to death. She shamelessly reflected as she tucked a foot under a restraint bar to stop her body from floating away.
She pressed her other foot on the water flow pedal and guided small blobs of water into her waiting hands. With delicate precision, as to not lose the water in her cabin, she brought the water to her face. The soothing coolness of the water wicked away the warm, sweaty, sticky sensations left from his vision. She opened her eyes ever so slightly to find the vacuum hose next to the sink. She flicked it on and brought it up to what water remained on her body. To waste was intolerable, and potable water in space was as precious as the recycled air she breathed and the germanium that were the heart of KF Drives. She replaced the hose in its cradle and debated whether to rinse the rest of the film of sweat from her body in the shower of her fresher. Her decision made, she stripped the skin-tight synthetic two-piece romper, floated into the shower, and ran the water. Scars from old wounds dotted her olive skin. Despite her age, she maintained her body to the same rigorous standards that had been drilled into her back in her sibko. She was still a warrior and held herself to the standards that gained her the Bloodname Rosse, a name she still believed in.
Even if I've been abjured. Rosse thought to herself as she touched the scar that crossed her lower abdomen. She survived the attempts of those who wished her death after she refused to accept her banishment, stripping of her Bloodname and status as a warrior and member of Clan Nova Cat.
They shall not take what I earned through rightful victory.
Memories of shame surfaced as she cleansed her body. Memories of what she found fell upon deaf ears who refused to hear. Memories of crimes she did not commit. False charges from those who were willfully blind, who could not see the truth for what it was. Those who though her not only mad but a traitor to the Ways of Kerensky and marked her as chalcas - someone not only outside acceptable Clan culture but openly challenged it.
"Savashi fools!" Rosse pounded a fist on the side of the shower that sent water flying every which way, "If we do not recognize the truth of our past, then we will not survive to see the future."
She thought back on her own history. She earned her Bloodname twenty-two years ago, considered a ristar amidst the warriors of Clan Nova Cat. That all changed when she undertook her third Rite of Vision soon after she earned her Bloodname. Unlike her previous two rites which ended in failure (after her Trial of Position to become a warrior and Star Commander; and just before her Trial of Bloodright for the Rosse name), this attempt yielded a vision. It was this vision that her life began to turn away from the path of her fellow Nova Cats and the rest of the Clans.
Her vision led her to make a discovery both fascinating and terrifying in its implications. This discovery called into question the Way of the Clans. When she presented this to the Oathmaster, it was deemed blasphemous against not only Sandra Rosse and Philip Drummond, but against the Great Father and Nicholas Kerensky himself. It marked her when she attempted to circumvent the Oathmaster and appeal directly to the Clan Council with her findings. She thought that she had gathered enough evidence, as disturbing as it was, to properly present it to the Council and argue it so the Council could act appropriately upon learning the truth. The fact that the Council had held a secret session to declare her chalcas and declare a sentence of death proved just how wrong she was and how willingly deaf her peers were to the truth she received.
She shook her head to clear her thoughts as well as expel excess water before she activated the vacuum hose again. She did not gain clarity, but the return of the images she saw minutes ago in her dream. She gritted her teeth as she removed the soapy water from her body, the frustration of such ambiguous visions weighed upon her with the mass of an assault 'mech. Rosse holstered the hose again and reached over to the audio com unit set into the wall of the fresher. It would not do well to put off analysis of the portents shown in her vision. She pressed the button on the unit.
"Bridge communication here, Star Captain." Responded the tinny voice of a technician.
She took a breath to steady herself, "Contact the Pallas' Spear. I need to speak with Star Commander Khatib."
"Star Commander Khatib is here, Star Captain." The answer was prompt, "She arrived from the Spear an hour ago."
Anya ignored the dull ache behind her eyes and focused on the wall-mounted chronometer. It read 0130 hours. She realized it was a mere two and a half hours before the briefing she scheduled with her officers and only four until their next jump to their next raid. Star Commander Eva Khatib was early, but it was not surprising that she would be so to conduct an impromptu inspection of the Blazing Cat's bridge. Khatib was not only the commander of Rosse's aerospace assets, but she was also a meticulous taskmaster, moreso than even the most stringent sibko instructor. In charge of the operational aspects of the flight crews of the Fortress-class Blazing Cat, the Leopard-class Pallas' Spear, along with the two freeborn pirate DropShips attached to the Tramp-class Cheshire, Khatib had a habit of conducting unexpected inspections when the crews were the least prepared. Such fastidiousness and dedication had always proven beneficial to Rosse.
"Put her through on a secure channel." She ordered.
She reviewed her dream as she waited for her subordinate to come on the line. Of all the visions she had seen, this was the third to have featured the Golden Eagle, a symbol she was just beginning to understand its true meaning. It was the first to feature a knight, however, let alone a black one wearing armor akin to a devil.
"Khatib here, Star Captain." Khatib's voice broke Rosse from her ruminations, "What do you require of me before I continue my inspection?"
Rosse paused, "Eva… I… I have had another vision."
Silence followed. Rosse was not surprised. Eva Khatib was an experienced aerospace pilot of Clan Cloud Cobra. A member of the Rossei Cloister, an ecumenical-political group within Cloud Cobra dedicated to the same spiritualism in Nova Cat, Eva was familiar with visions. Eva herself received her own vision, one of the reasons why she was on this venture with Anya instead of stationed on Homer or Babylon. Eva was the closest person available to an Oathmaster since Anya fled her Clan, as such Khatib had been privy to all of Anya's visions and dreams. A report of a vision was always a matter of great import.
"I shall be in your quarters shortly." Khatib confirmed, "I will rouse Star Commander Djerassi and-"
Anya heard the chime from her main door and interrupted Khatib, "No need. Adar is already here."
A slight pause, "His foresight is quite eerie, quiaff?"
"Aff." Rosse responded as she heard her cabin door slide open. She killed the com link and pulled herself out of the refresher unit, remembering to turn off the light on the way out. She grabbed a towel from a storage cupboard and noticed the glow from candles that Adar had lit on his way in. The smell of incense in the air, she looked upon the figure of the warrior from Clan Goliath Scorpion concealed in his traditional uniform. His face was concealed in a headscarf and cloth mask, he stood attached to the floor by his magnetized boots amidst the dim lighting. Spherical containers that held the candles and incense were spread throughout her cabin, rooted firmly against its surface by the magnets in their bases.
"You have experienced another vision." Star Commander Adar Djerassi stated as a matter of course.
"Aff." Rosse confirmed as she guided herself to her closet. She retrieved a loose grey jumpsuit and clothed herself. It was not out of shame: she was a trueborn Clan warrior, not some lowly freebirth adolescent. Her comrades had seen her bare form before, as she had seen theirs. She, Adar, and Eva have bedded with each other on many occasions, not to mention the simple necessities of combat. She noted the lack of verbal response from Djerassi on her confirmation of another vision. Given his nature, it was not a surprise.
Djerassi was perhaps the only trueborn warrior in Rosse's group that could one day return to the Clans. Unlike herself and Eva, chalcas criminals in their society, he had joined her in pursuit of his duty to his Clan. He was a Seeker, a position of great honor among Goliath Scorpion. A Seeker was charged with the duty of finding relics of the Star League throughout Clan space, to return them to the Temple of the Nine Muses in Spiderholm Fortress. It was the most sacred place of Clan Goliath Scorpion outside of their genetic repository, guarded by a full galaxy of frontline warriors. It was Adar's quest for relics that drove him to render his aid. His retinue of lower caste personnel and warriors gave her the means to successfully pursue what she saw in her visions despite her condemnation from her fellow Nova Cats.
"Your foresight serves you well." Anya noted as she floated, foregoing the boots.
Djerassi simply nodded as he deactivated his boots' magnets, his amber eyes caught the glow of the candles. The nonverbal response did not surprise her. Djerassi was an exemplar of his Clan, though his willingness to assist her was perhaps an exception. Like all Goliath Scorpion warriors, he spoke with few words and only when necessary. One had to be adept in body language to understand his intent at times, made more difficult by the standard uniform of his headscarf and cloth mask. Despite his stoicism, he had proven to be quite the boon. An excellent warrior both in and out of a 'mech cockpit, he brought his personal retinue of thirty lower castemen and four freeborn warriors. His greatest asset to her were his skills as a Seeker. He had an almost obsessive desire for knowledge, and as a result he was quite adept at gathering information from any source. It was he who guided them to the world of Ayatori and the ancient Star League depot hidden within. It was the site where the Exodus Fleet had been forced to strip itself of broken and unneeded equipment before they continued their trek into the unknown. If not for the material found there, Rosse doubted that she would have been able to properly outfit her followers on this quest.
The slide of her cabin door heralded the arrival of Eva Khatib. With her two fellow Bloodnamed warriors, her most trusted confidants, present she decided to begin. Before she spoke, she reached back into her closet and retrieved a leather pouch. This pouch contained her vineers, one of the greatest possessions of a Nova Cat warrior. Touchstones of the past cataloguing the events and deeds that affected the warrior in their life. Hers told of her rise and fall.
"As you are both aware, I have had another vision." Rosse folded her legs to assume the same lotus position as Djerassi, "Like several of my past visions, this one came not when I sought it but rather when I did not."
"Your dreams are becoming almost routine, quiaff?" Eva grinned wryly, "Perhaps you should cultivate the desire to avoid them in order to experience more and thus gain further clarity upon the path we travel?"
"It would be better to know the details of the vision before making such a suggestion, quiaff?" Djerassi interjected calmly as he floated, seemingly in meditation.
Anya took a breath to steady herself, then began, "In my dream, I was adrift among the stars. To my front, I could see the symbols of the Scavenger Lords. Behind, I saw the totems of the Clans. In between the symbols of House Kurita, House Davion, and just beyond the symbol of House Avellar, I once again beheld the Golden Eagle. It was tall, proud. Its gold radiant and pristine whereas the symbols of the Scavenger Lords were tarnished and dirty. The Eagle was searching for something: its gaze swept across the Inner Sphere as if it were the master of all it surveyed. I felt the gaze of the Eagle fall upon me, around me. It felt as if it saw through me. From the Eagle emerged a knight, whose armor was deep black and bore the make of a devil. This... this devil knight then appeared to my front. In its hands was a terrible sword which it raised above its head, staring down at me with eyes of crimson flame. When the sword fell, I cried out… only to awaken."
Rosse awaited her comrade's response. Despite the calming atmosphere the candles and incense were supposed to provide, she felt uneasy. A new cold sweat formed on her body as she spoke of what she had seen. The same sense of unease had come when she recounted the dream she received on Antallos: Brilliant flashes of light that destroyed all it touched, then a Golden Eagle streaked out of the void of space to cradle Antallos in its wings. It crushed snakes, rats, and other vermin as it did so.
"The Golden Eagle…" Eva ran a hand through her short white hair, "The same one you saw in the vision that guided us towards the worlds near the Outworlds Alliance, the same one you saw in the dream the prompted us to leave Antallos before this unknown force calling itself the ISA arrived to conquer it. That you see it again even though we are only a jump away from our raid on Sinope… This could not be coincidence, quineg?"
"Neg, I do not believe it to be coincidence, but I do not feel it has anything to do with the raid we have planned on Sinope." Rosse felt no apprehension when she thought of the Sinope system.
"Our raid on Sinope is to determine if there have been any more developments regarding this ISA since we raided Bad News about a month ago." Eva closed her eyes in thought, "Do you feel that this was a warning against such an action? Does a trap lay before us quiaff?"
"Neg." Rosse rubbed the rough leather of her vineer pouch, "Unlike the vision of the Red Hunter, I do not feel that this is a warning against our planned raid on Sinope."
Her Star Commanders raised inquisitive eyebrows. The dream that Rosse received that warned them of the Red Hunter had been full of blood and death: arrows mercilessly fell upon a scorpion, a cloud cobra, and a nova cat before the figure of a hunter clad in red ground the three totem animals beneath his heel. Anya did not feel that same immediacy, the same dread of annihilation. This vision seemed to point to a further future, possibly an event unforeseen on either side.
"The Eagle was searching." Adar opened his eyes.
"Perhaps…" Eva opened her eyes and glanced at Anya, "From your description, the Eagle does seem to be searching for something. If it is indeed representative of this ISA as we have been led to believe, then perhaps it is those of the ISA or their masters who search for something."
"You." Adar's voice rumbled in its calming, deep tone, "The Eagle searches for you, for us."
Rosse frowned. The Eagle searching for them was not comforting considering her past visions, though to be fair only the second vision of the Eagle struck true dread into her heart. Her first vision of the Eagle had led them toward the Outworlds Alliance and to Antallos. She had seen the Eagle then: emergent from a place beyond; strong; proud; eyes which belied a wisdom unknown. From this vision she also saw numerous symbols of the Star League and the Terran Hegemony. Such symbols had filled her with hope that she may have finally found what was needed to fulfill her quest and vindicate herself in the eyes of her fellow Nova Cats and the rest of the Clans. She did not see exactly where the Eagle made its nest, just that it was somewhere near the Outworlds Alliance. It was this vision that prompted her to move her group away from the Lyran-Combine border.
A raid on the Combine-Davion border, on the world of Kesai IV, was carried out on Adar's direction. It was hoped that the old SLDF depot there would provide clues on the exact whereabouts of the Eagle. Upon that barren desert world, she found not answers but further perversions of the Scavenger Lords as they fought over scraps of the Star League. From a man captured by some of her savashri hirelings she learned that the Federated Suns and the Draconis Combine had found the depot long ago and used it to fuel their new constant feud. They had already stripped everything of value left behind by the Exodus Fleet and fought over the remains of the factories and maintenance facilities there. She led a successful enough attack against rear guard elements of the 11th Avalon Hussars RCT, but the main facility was guarded by battle-hardened frontline warriors. With barely a cluster of troops under her command, most of them poorly trained and armed pirate savashri, she was forced to contract like some lowlife mercenary. She decided that whatever information the depot once held would have been lost over the centuries and a pointless battle with a proper enemy foe would gain them little.
After the aborted raid on Kesai IV, they proceeded to Antallos. She hoped to resupply, and barter materials captured that was of little use to her cause. The second vision of the Eagle on Antallos was not filled with the hope of the first. The second, the Eagle was filled with a furious anger, a vengeance-filled avatar of rage that screamed toward Antallos. The Golden Eagle's visage made Anya feel something almost completely alien to a Clan warrior: fear. Terrible, spirit shattering fear.
"If the Eagle searches for us, perhaps we should oblige?" Eva tilted her head in contemplation, "We withdrew from Antallos before learning much. If we had stayed, then we may have been able to pry information from that surat Vorax, information that would have helped guide us toward our goal. Returning to Antallos and confronting this ISA could provide us with the answers we seek, quiaff?"
Rosse considered Khatib's query. She wanted answers about the Eagle and the ISA it seemed to represent, as well as answers and truth that would help her understand how she was supposed to save her people. She just was not sure that confrontation would gain her such, at least not yet. There were still too many unanswered questions and she was not yet sure what role the Eagle played, if any, in regard to the first two visions she had back in Clan space. All she knew was that the Eagle was linked to those original visions and the truth she discovered about the history of her Clan and the Clans as a whole, for good or ill. Until she had a better idea of how the Eagle fit with those original visions, she was reluctant to confront it and the group it seemed to represent.
"This black knight with armor in the make of a devil," Djerassi interjected, "that is not something you have beheld in your past visions, quiaff?"
"Aff." Anya confirmed, "This devil knight is something new. Like many of the things I've seen, I do not have much context with which to place and identify it. All I know from the vision is that it seemed to come forth from the Eagle, with fire in its eyes and armed with a terrible sword."
"Hmm… Until this symbol is identified and the role of the Eagle and its ISA become clearer, I advise that we do nothing."
"Nothing?" Rosse was puzzled.
Eva was not so accommodating, "You would have us avoid these ISA altogether, to run and hide like bandits!? Such a thing reeks of cowardice-"
"I do not suggest that." Adar remained cool in the face of such a verbal assault, "I said that we should do nothing. My intent is that we do not purposefully confront the Eagle and those associated with it. Neither should we purposefully avoid it. Should we come across the Eagle or one of its associates, then it would be a fateful encounter. We would then act as the situation dictates. However, until we have a better understand of the Eagle, this ISA, and this black devil, it would be foolish to confront the unknown. If we do not properly prepare then our efforts will be for naught and the destruction of the Clans will be assured by the enemy you have foreseen, Anya."
Rosse nodded in affirmation of Djerassi's words. Her face paled as she recalled her second vision in Clan space. It came to her after she was declared chalcas and escaped the execution of her death sentence. In that vision, she saw horrors that she never thought to imagine…
Adar continued and shifted his gaze to Khatib, "Bandits… I suggest you choose your words more carefully, Eva. Remember the position you were in when we found you. Remember who it was that gave you comfort and shelter when your fellow Cobras adjured you and remember who it is that you fight alongside even now. Do not allow yourself to regress into the close-mindedness that marks those who have yet to understand the truth."
"Adar is correct." Rosse headed off another heated argument with her intervention, "We are too few. Valor has its place, but if we fail in our task then it does not matter how valiantly we fought. The whole of the Clans will perish. We agreed from the beginning of this journey that we would set aside our personal honor for the needs of the mission, the survival of those left behind, and the awakening of our people to the truth. We accepted the truth when we came to know and those who would grant us aid despite the taboos and lies that were once ingrained in us. We cannot afford to fail, and if that requires patience so be it."
She looked in the eyes of her confidants. They responded with nods of understanding and affirmation, though Eva was more sluggish in her reply.
"What of our raid on Sinope?" Eva asked, "We will still carry forth, quiaff?"
"Aff." Anya confirmed, "The vision does not seem to be a portent against such actions, and we need to gather information. Sinope shall provide us the opportunity to see what has happened since we struck Bad News. However, after we have defeated their garrison and gathered what information we can from its people and its HPG, we shall head to the Outworlds Alliance to unload those who have contracted with us. I want your recommendations of whether we will harvest any from this latest group before we are within one jump of the Alliance. It is as you say, Adar. We must prepare, and that means we have need for more warriors and equipment. We cannot allow weakness and those who fight only for material gain to hinder us in our long-term goals."
"Aff, Star Captain." Khatib and Djerassi affirmed in unison.
"I believe there are two among them who may be worthy of such an honor, if they survive on Sinope." Eva stated as she reactivated her boot's magnets and turned toward the door.
Adar remained silent, but Anya trusted his judgement. His time in Goliath Scorpion's elite Heartvenom Cluster shaped his judgement, and his standards for those worthy to join their ranks reflected that level of quality.
"I shall join you for the briefing at 0400 hours." Rosse stated, "Alert Hector and Rodrigo that we shall head for the Outworlds Alliance after the raid and for them to pass their recommendations along as per usual."
"Aff, Star Captain." Their voices heralded in unison before the cabin door slid open and shut with their exit.
She breathed the remnants of the incense in before the recycler filtered out its calming scent. She opened her leather vineer pouch and withdrew a small plastic square. She rebound the pouch and pushed off a wall toward her work terminal. At the lip of the table, she pressed its recessed button. The holoprojector flared to life, light flashed and dimmed as it awaited instruction. She inserted the square into a small slot on the top of the table.
"Terminal zero-nine-five-B-C is online." The computer announced in its mechanical voice, "Vocal recognition required."
"Anya Rosse, Star Captain." Anya issued the command while she gathered her proper uniform for the briefing in two hours.
"Vocal pattern recognized. Working." The unmistakable sound of fan whir kicked on as the computer proceeded, "Password required."
"Lies shall stay their feet upon the false path." Rosse responded.
"Working. Password required."
Two-factor authentication was standard among high-ranking members of the Clans. To be captured and forced to give secrets to the enemy was unacceptable. Her terminal was no different.
"Mind no longer deluded, by false faith concluded. Speak truth so that I may listen."
"Identity verified. Welcome, Star Captain Rosse."
"Computer, open file Drummond Journal. Correlate data with contents of file Sandra-two-eight-two-three."
"Processing." The computer hitched a moment, "Process complete. Awaiting prompt."
"Command prompt: Override-eight-three-two-dot-e-x-e." She issued the command as she began to dress in her uniform. The computer spent a minute processing the command, the whir of fans joined the chorus of dropship noise. The holoprojector flared and revealed a man with sharp eyebrows, high cheek bones, and dark hair. The image that stared out of the holoprojector, dressed in the uniform of the Star League Defense Force Intelligence Command was Philip Drummond, the premier founder of Clan Nova Cat.
"I bid you welcome. May you glean wisdom from the retelling of the experiences of my life." The greeting was standard for every copy of Philip Drummond's journal, but for this interface it was the last layer of security to access the hidden contents of the journal.
"A person can only be loyal to someone they respect." Anya said aloud. It was the line Philip Drummond spoke to Aleksandr Kerensky he changed allegiance during the Amaris Civil War.
The young, dashing image of Drummond on the holoprojector was replaced by the aged, withered form of the man. His body in the twilight of its years, his mind still sharp. It was a visage that few Clansmen ever saw. He was one-hundred-twelve years old when he passed on: the oldest Khan of any Clan and the oldest survivor of Operation EXODUS and the foundation of the Clans.
"Whoever you may be, I must commend you for your perseverance in finding the data core and the keys to unlocking its contents. I cannot know for certain why it is you initially sought to find the core, nor can I know what you will do with it now that you are in possession of it and its secrets. I can only hope that you are someone who will be open minded enough to listen to what need to be told and courageous enough to take up the legacy that I leave behind in these passages. If you are not, if you do not wish to know the burden that comes with the knowledge herein, then I plead of you to return the core and all of the keys back to whence they came. Leave them hidden for the day when one is truly willing to take up the task may discover them."
There was a pause. Not the fault of the computer or projector, but a deliberate break by Drummond. If by enhanced age or by the weight of his words, he gave whoever came across this a chance to back away. Anya's first encounter left her hesitant to continue. She gave herself three days to make the decision to move forward in the recording and discover what lay within. Drummond continued.
"That you are hearing this means that you have chosen to proceed with discovering what lies in the heart of this core. I shall warn you again that what you will learn, should you continue, could be constructed as treason most high and blasphemy most foul. Remember, this is the truth as I have seen it. This-" his image hacked a cough, wet and aged, "this is my journal, a full recording of my life and the events around it that, in one way or another, I have been part of. I am well aware that, like every founding member of the Clans, compilations calling themselves our journals have already been produced and distributed as required reading by order of Nicholas Kerensky and those who have taken his mantle upon his demise. Such works are more pontifications of what Nicholas desired when creating his dogma than accurate accounts of our lives, deeds, and the events around them."
Another coughing fit took hold of the aged Drummond as Anya continued to dress herself.
"To hear me say such a thing must strike confusion and some horror upon you if you are of the Clans, unless I have grossly misjudged how the Clans will continue." Drummond's image allowed himself a chuckle and short cough before he continued, "I pray that I have, that my fears will not come to pass, even though all I have seen and borne witness to fills me with a certainty of what the future holds. Regardless of what you may be feeling at the moment, know that what you shall find here is the truth as I have perceived it during my life. Unlike what Nicholas and his successors have ordered be our journals, handpicked moments and abridged compilations, you will find no edits or changes here. What you will find are my exact words and thoughts as I originally recorded them. The only thing I have added to this, my original journal, is this message and the security measures that you have overcome to find this. Now, let my tale and history be told truly, the good and the ill, and let me be judged accordingly. The rest shall be naught but sound and fury that in the end, shall signify nothing. All that I ever strove to be is but a righteous man."
Anya had listened to nearly every entry in the data core at least once so far, something that had taken considerable time. Even now she still felt that there were more hidden meanings and secrets that lay in Drummond's words. Many entries were nothing more than mundane day-to-day accounts. Others were of much greater gravitas: the Exodus; the Foundation of the Clans; Operation KLONDIKE; the Not-Named Clan; the Dark Caste; even Nicholas Kerensky himself. The information of those events, the people involved, and the Great Father called into question many things that Anya and every other member of the Clans had long accepted as unquestionable fact. It was because of her first vision that she had located this core, this unviolated artifact of history that came from the founder of Clan Nova Cat.
She looked to the aged image of Philip Drummond, his warnings and explanation finished. She moved over to the computer and brought up a reference program she used to note the different details and facts from each entry to make it easier to find information and entries that were linked. She looked to the chronograph on her wall. 0215 hours. She had just under two hours until the briefing on Sinope. She would afford herself an hour to the entries. It would keep her mind off her latest vision for a little while at least.
Banquet Hall
Port Kirin Administration Building
Antallos, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
16 November 2007/862 AS/3022
"So, do you think it will be accepted?"
"There is no question, Ambassador Smith. The benefits to both our peoples are clear, but as the extreme delay in my arrival as Ambassador to you indicates," Matoskah replied with a rueful grin, "the Outworlds Alliance is not a body that reacts swiftly on a diplomatic level. Expect to be inundated with last minute amendments."
The Ambassador of the Outworlds Alliance took a bite out of his small plate of appetizers and washed it down with a glass of water. Ambassador Charles Smith took a sip of champagne as he considered that statement. He looked at the mingling diplomatic staffers and the occasional sight of three Bashars in attendance. The Federated Suns were keeping to themselves somewhat, as were the Combine representatives.
Smith was surprised that they would deign to breathe the same air as one another, but the importance of maintaining face was not lost to the Great Houses. The party was a semi-impromptu affair. Officially, it was to welcome the Ambassador of the Magistry of Canopus to Antallos. In actuality it was a celebration of the fall of the last hostile city-state and the transition to a more peacetime footing. It would do for some relaxation before the hard work of unification would begin anew.
"We'll make sure to plan for any contingency that falls within the realm of reality." Smith smiled.
"It is that which falls upon the imagination that causes the most trouble." Ambassador Matoskah stated sagely, "Speaking of which, is the Canopian Ambassador going to remain in our imagination?"
Smith didn't bother to scan the hall for Ambassador McFarland, "We have a phrase for this kind of thing on Earth: 'Fashionably Late.' I wonder if she adheres to it or if it's a trait of Canopian nobility."
Matoskah cocked an eyebrow, "Being late is a fashion?"
"It's to tell people that you are busy with other engagements that you can only arrive late, or to make an entrance. I suspect it's both in her case."
From behind Smith emerged the uniformed countenance of a certain Bashar Superior, "So, she coming Smith?"
Smith nearly jumped and turned to face the voice, "Bashar Serov, please. This is a diplomatic affair."
Bashar Superior Thomas Serov shrugged, "It's a party in her honor, Charlie. It's run for the past half hour. Would it kill her to show?"
The herald stationed at the door entered the room as if summoned by his statement, "Ladies and Gentlemen: Ambassador of the Magistracy of Canopus, Lady of the Girin, Carmela McFarland."
Smith felt his mouth dry on the spot and his thoughts vanish like open water in the Free Zones. His mind was far too occupied contemplating the vision that entered the hall. McFarland's dress left very little to the imagination and served to compliment her features far better than her dress uniform ever could.
He shook himself back to reality and walked to meet her as a proper host should.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Madam Ambassador." He greeted with a mild smile.
"And you, Ambassador Smith." She nodded as she surveyed the hall. It was festooned with traditional Canopian colors and bunting.
"Allow me to introduce you to the Ambassador of the Outworlds Alliance, Matoskah," Smith motioned to him.
"Pleasure." McFarland bowed.
"And Bashar Superior of the Independent Systems Alliance Marine Army, Thomas Serov."
"The pleasure is mine, Madam Ambassador." Serov leaned down and kissed her hand.
McFarland smiled at the gesture, "Bashar… I'm not familiar with the rank."
"Ah," Serov chuckled to himself, "the title was changed some decades ago after we unified the rank system of our naval, marine army, and aerospace branches. Think of it as 'General.'"
"Forgive me, but given the state of the sphere what kind of navy does your nation possess?" Matoskah asked, "You can't mean surface ships, can you?"
Serov chuckled as he tapped the side of his nose, "State secrets."
McFarland laughed, "Well, hopefully we won't have to find out in battle."
"You're military, McFarland. Join us for an exercise sometime. It may prove to be enlightening." Serov winked.
The sound of a conspicuously congested throat cut through the conversation, "Excuse me, Ambassadors."
"Ah, Bashar Norrington." Smith nodded to him, "Ambassadors McFarland and Matoskah, may I introduce Bashar James Norrington of the ISA Navy."
"Pardon the interruption, Ambassadors," Norrington bowed, "but there is a matter of import that the Bashar Superior must attend to. Excuse us." Norrington pulled on Serov's arm and nearly dragged him away from the trio.
"Quite a forward man, isn't he?" McFarland remarked of Serov.
"It is a strength and a weakness of his." Smith confirmed, "Bold to a fault."
"Now, since this is a party for me, what is there to eat?"
"Jimmy, what the hell?" Serov pulled his arm away out of earshot of the Ambassador trio.
"Hitting on an Ambassador old boy? Really?" Norrington's annoyed tone berated.
"Agreed." Piped in Bashar Yuki Nagato, returned with a fresh drink and a tray of appetizers, "Not the wisest play, Bashar Superior."
Serov steadied himself. The verbal backlash was not something he expected, not to this degree, "I was simply being friendly, okay?"
Nagato half smirked, "You call that display 'friendly,' sir? Uncomfortably intimate is more accurate."
Serov raised his hands in defeat, "Perhaps I overstepped. Still, she's probably the first foreign military attaché that we could reasonably expect to participate in sims. What kinds of tactics does the Magistracy employ, what are they capable of, what of their operational and strategic capabilities?"
"You do not do that by attempting to seduce them." Nagato retorted as she took a sip of her cocktail, "What's so great about them anyway?"
"What was that?" Serov asked, somewhat taken aback.
"You heard what I said, Serov." Nagato turned about and walked away.
Norrington facepalmed as Nagato cleared earshot, several meters away, "Well?"
"What?" Serov was visibly confused.
"For one of the smartest people I know, you can be dense as shit. Go after her, you idiot." Norrington shook his head.
Serov gave him a sheepish confused look and went after Nagato. Left alone to his own devices, Bashar Norrington found an empty chair, sat down, and continued to work on his cocktail. He spotted two members of the Davion delegation and the Kurita delegation as they began another one of their infamous public tirades against one another. He sighed and decided to intervene.
"…and that gives you the right to approach me, you filthy Davion dog!?"
"Come now, Alicia, don't be bashful."
"What seems to be the problem, people?" Norrington sighed again as he stepped between the two.
"This mutt decided to approach me. At a diplomatic function of all places!" Sho-sa Alicia Kurita exclaimed, exasperated at the advances of the Davion.
"I apologize, Mister Norrington, but I simply can't resist such a beauty before me." Explained Major Carlos Davion as he bowed deeply with an ostentatious flourish.
Norrington sighed yet again, "It's Bashar Norrington, Major. I would ask that if the opposite party is not receptive to your proposals, please withdraw them. I would prefer there not to be a diplomatic incident during this event."
"Oh-ho, Mister Norrington," Carlos Davion had a glimmer in his eye, "do you wish to fight for the honor of this fair beauty?"
Norrington's eye twitched, "Major, I ask that you stand down. Let's just all enjoy this party, eh?"
"I thought you ISA military-types had a sense of honor. I suppose I was mistaken." Davion waved dismissively.
"If you consider fighting over some self-perceived slight as 'honorable,' one has to question." Norrington shrugged as he took another sip.
"Question what?" Davion glared.
"See, where I come from, mate, you're just waving your dick about for everyone to see. I'm not interested, the Sho-sa here isn't interested, so I think you should just put it away."
"How dare you use such vulgar language-" Carlos was cut off.
"Listen," Norrington's face became serious, "you're a guest here. You are on our world by the graces of my government. We do not have a problem with the Federated Suns, nor with your Ambassador. You, on the other hand, have been a bit of a sex pest. Now, if you continue to behave like a bloody git, I will have no choice but to lodge a complaint to your Embassy and have you catch the next transport off world."
"Well." Carlos Davion tilted his head to the side and stormed away from the scene. He left the party in the most dramatic of fashions.
"God, what an insufferable asshole." Norrington's hand met his face.
"He is a mangy Davion dog in every sense of the word." Alicia Kurita glared at the back of the retreating Davion, "I can't stand the man."
"The other members of the delegation are delightful, but people are people. We simply aren't all cut out for human interaction." Norrington sighed, "Sho-sa, I do apologize for intervening on your behalf. You can more than stand on your own and I don't mean to presume-"
"Think nothing of it." Kurita waved her hand in front of her face, "I'm glad not to expend any more energy speaking to such a man."
"Oh, I see Ambassador Kurita along with Chandrasekhar. I've been meaning to ask them…"
The Amir's Café
18 November 3022/862 AS
Lieutenant Commander Shizuka Banderas took to her new post on Antallos with gusto. While she enjoyed her stint on Earth, being on the homeworld of humanity was more than a bit of a shock for everyone in the ISA, she was eager to return to the field. Her recent promotion came with the assignment. As an officer in the Systems Security Service, she had a very important job: gather information on the Port Kirin Liberation Front, a very recent terror organization seemingly dedicated to push the ISA out of Port Kirin and off Antallos. The constant electronic and drone surveillance helped prevent some attacks and minimize the damage from others, but their search for the perpetrators of the violence had come up with nothing. So, human intelligence had to take a more active role in this endeavor.
She left the busy streets of Port Kirin and escaped its merciless sun. She took in her surroundings as she entered. The Arabian-styled café was lavishly adorned despite its humble outer façade. The air conditioning worked, and the scent of fresh brewed coffee hung in the air. She took a table in a corner and ordered a cup of iced coffee as she waited for her law enforcement counterpart.
The café was nearly empty, so when her counterpart entered, he found it easy to spot her. He made his way over to her and sat across the table.
"Not a bad place," Banderas noted as the man sat down, "I'll have to remember it for later."
"Of course." Inspector Jenci Révész nodded to her, "The Amir's is a great local joint. Best coffee in town, especially since new beans have come in from Motherlode."
"Oh, this coffee is damn good." She took a sip, then set down her cup, "Now, what do you got for me?"
"We might actually have a lead on the PKLF."
"Really? Gleaned anything off the latest attack?"
He shook his head, "No, nothing there. Commissioner Garland is adamant that this is foreign action. Half a dozen attacks, more than double the thwarted attempts, and those arrested have given us nothing usable. All hirelings. However, today I found a message in my mail with a request for a meeting here concerning the PKLF signed by none other than Danilo Cremonesi."
She cocked an eyebrow, "Why are we dealing with a crime boss?"
"I'm impressed. You Triple-S folks know your shit."
Banderas began to sift through her internal database, "Fifty-one years old; wife, forty-nine; three children, two natural, one adopted, all teens or young adults. Parents unknown, died at an early age. Joined a gang on the south side at thirteen. Unclear information for the next two decades, but at thirty he became the boss of his own organization. Considered a rising star in the underworld, but never expressed a desire to become the top dog. Lives in an estate a few kilometers out of Port Kirin, untouched by the invasion thanks to a neutral stance. He runs a number of legal fronts, mostly construction and logistics. He had abandoned his protection rackets thanks to the ISA's increased security measures. Still a major information broker and maintains some weapons and general smuggling operations. He has a… measured violent response to drug dealers and slavers, at least according to the general violence of Antallos' underground scene."
"God, you Triple-S folks are something else." Révész remarked as he motioned for the server to bring him a coffee, "Okay, finish it off. I wanna see if you know the grittier details of the man."
Banderas smiled as she took another sip of coffee, "He has about two companies of infantry worth of professional manpower. More of a businessman than a warlord, which is why Garland hasn't pinned him to the wall. The one instance of flexing that firepower was six years ago against the Ristovksa Cartel. The Cartel murdered his second-in-command's wife and eldest daughter before cutting him open and having him bleed out. The scene was discovered by his youngest daughter."
Révész shuddered, "Yeah, I was given that case. Fuck, I wish I could forget the scene of that poor bastard and his family. We never got much together, mostly because Vorax had no interest in our success. Cremonesi adopted the man's remaining daughter. I met him at the funeral. When I asked if he knew anything about it, he simply told me to keep out of it in his signature friendly and polite fashion. The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice… good Lord I'd never seen a man like that before. A cold, brutal determination that I've not experienced again. I knew right there something bad was gonna happen, and I wanted to be far away when it did."
Banderas continued to recite the events, "According to your database, the Cartel simply continued to infringe on Cremonesi's territory. They grew bolder in their actions. Then, on the first of October thirty-seventeen, the hammer fell. The main Cartel barracks downtown, which also held four medium 'mechs, was hit by a tanker truck laden with explosives and incendiaries. The initial explosion, which blew a hole in the defenses, was followed up by a coordinated strike from what was estimated to be a full company of infantry. They left no survivors, requisitioned the 'mechs, and left the scene. Over the next four hours, Cartel strongholds were struck across the city. They left no survivors in their wake. The final strike against the Cartel's headquarters was backed up by two light 'mechs, one of which was a Firestarter. As soon as the Cartel retreated within, the 'mech lit the building up with everyone inside. All in all, there were an estimated two-hundred-fifty or so dead, not counting the more minor members of the organization. They were effectively destroyed on Antallos."
Révész shook his head, "You could say that again. Honestly surprised that all of that remained on the database. I remember what happened after that. Any remaining Cartel members were hunted down in Port Kirin. Some managed to escape, but he put a price on their head so high that if they ever stepped foot in the city again, they were dead. The rest of the crime lords, including Vorax, lost their collective shit. No one expected anything like this from the old man. He always had a bit of a rep as a laid-back guy averse to getting his hands dirty. This kind of shit, this one-sided slaughter, against a major player took everyone off guard."
"The events afterwards weren't in the database. What happened to the 'mechs and the men?"
He shrugged, "Unknown. Nobody ever saw them again. Rumor is that the old bastard still has them as an ace in case anyone ever tries to start a full-scale gang war with him. The men were a mix of hired guns and his own guys. That said, Cremonesi was always one of the most peaceful bosses in town. He's content with making his money and just tries not to piss people off. He seems to regard violence as costly and largely unnecessary, a play of last resort. He also runs a very good insurance fund for the families of his people and knows how to cover his ass. Hell, that October Massacre? Hundreds of witnesses testified that he was on the other end of town, shopping and eating out at some expensive joint with his family and bodyguards. Everyone knows it was him, but his shit don't stink. His people don't talk. Period."
"Well, according to what we know now his legal businesses are on an upswing. His smuggling and arms traffic are nonexistent."
"Yeah, it looks like he's gone completely legit. You can see why we put him low on the priority list."
"Understandable." Banderas knew the rules of the game. Sometimes, you had to get in bed with some nasty bedfellows to get to the real scum of the underworld. She knew of Assistant Commissioner Garland and her efforts to clean up Antallos. The fact that this Cremonesi shifted his operations to legitimate business made sense: Why put your people at risk when there was money to be made legitimately? The rest of the criminal element already felt the wrath of the Constabulary. Those who resisted with violence were put behind bars and put to work in the reconstruction efforts. They were also given a chance at education. Classes were a mandatory part of their admittedly cushy prison sentences. To know there were those who adapted to the new order as quickly as they did was satisfying.
"Okay, he's set to get here any minute now. Let me handle the talking." Révész took another sip of his coffee.
As if summoned, an older grey-haired man in a tan business suit appeared at the entrance flanked by two bodyguards. The older man strode toward the seated pair while the bodyguards took positions to cover the table.
Cremonesi shook their hands and sat down, "Hello Lieutenant. No, Inspector now, isn't it? Inspector Révész. It's always a pleasure. How is your daughter doing? I heard she's entering one of the schools our new management opened. Oh, your companion. I don't believe we've met, Ms.-"
"Banderas." She answered.
"She's from the new management." Révész quickly intervened, "She's here to assist with the rebuilding process. My daughter is doing quite well, thank you. I hope yours is as well?"
"Of course, Inspector." Cremonesi nodded, "My son just finished his private education and plans to attend one of the new colleges the ISA has under construction. He's always been a smart boy. Now, down to business."
"Yes. The Port Kirin Liberation Front."
"Oh yes. Inspector, I believe I have some information that you would find quite useful. You see, one of my foremen on one of my construction sites saw an employee of theirs at the last attack, quite close to that office building site that got hit. The next day, they talked with the man and asked why he was there. They got some creative lies as a response. I decided to conduct a little investigation and found some interesting little tidbits. Someone is operating out of a ruin at the edge of town. I thought they were just smugglers, but with new data coming in I think we've stumbled upon something… different."
"Very interesting." Révész nodded, "You don't happen to have that information, would you?"
"Oh, it's already done."
Banderas grew tired of her silence, "So, what do you have to gain in all this, Mr. Cremonesi?"
"Simple, Ms. Banderas: Stability. I am happy with how events have transpired and the work your government has done. This Port Kirin Liberation Front, they look to up end the status quo. Not only that, they look to do that without any regard to the existing dynamics in this city. Given my position, and the position of my fellows, it is only natural that I help along any effort to protect the current state of affairs and advance your position."
"Really." She gave him the side eye.
"Let's just say this is a favor, and I may call in a favor in the future. The information I have described will arrive in the next couple hours by post." Cremonesi checked his wristwatch, "Oh, forgive me but I do have other appointments to attend today. It was a pleasure. Inspector. Ms. Banderas."
Cremonesi stood, shook their hands, and left promptly with his entourage in tow. Banderas and Révész looked at one another.
"Fascinating individual." Banderas noted as she drank the rest of her watered-down coffee, "He'd be a formidable adversary."
"I think you may have caught his interest, Commander." Révész smirked, "You see the ghost of a smile at the end of the conversation? You held your own well."
Banderas stood up, "Well, let's get to work, shall we? I'd like to prevent another attack."
Constabulary Division
Port Kirin Administration Center
25 November 862 AS/3022
"Jesus Christ, you guys have this place completely covered, don't you?" Révész gazed at the bank of holo-monitors in the office. The Systems Security Service had deployed a bevy of assets to surveil the ruined compound. They had recorded mostly foot traffic, but the occasional vehicle did pass into the premises, each one recorded and tagged upon exit. The patterns of the vehicles were telling: Port Kirin Administration Building; Interstellar Port; construction sites all over the city. They gathered materials and intelligence for something massive, but they didn't know the target just yet.
"The Triple-S doesn't mess about." Banderas nodded, arms crossed, "We've identified the man 'Fumihiro Kitakawa' as a potential leader in this cell, along with seven other members. Those others we don't have names yet, but we'll keep an eye on them for now."
"You don't wanna kick the door down?" Banderas asked.
"It's an age-old problem. Hasn't changed over the centuries. We can move in and risk them running to ground, or we keep observing and risk them executing a large op. We have so many damn eyes on the place they can't as much twitch without us knowing which eye did so."
Inspector Révész' personal phone rang in his pocket. He answered, "Hello. Yeah… wait, what? You're sure? Shit. Yeah, we're moving."
"What was that about?"
Révész grabbed his hat off the desk, "We have to go, now."
"Why?"
"A construction company Cremonesi owns just reported the theft of over half a ton of high explosives. MO looks exactly the same as the stolen chemicals the PKLF used in the attack on the outdoor market two weeks ago."
"Understood." Banderas opened a comm line with the Systems Security Office, "Banderas to Fleet Captain Maeda."
Maeda's image appeared on her HUD, "Go, Commander."
"We need some operators. You already have the coordinates."
"Rainbow is already mobilized. You'll have support there when you arrive."
"Confirmed. Banderas out." She returned her attention to the police Inspector, "We've got backup. Let's go."
Outskirts of Port Kirin
Like any solder, Domingo Chavez hated to wait. He hated it almost as much as being forced to sit back as his comrades walked into danger. It was times like these when he regretted his promotion to Rainbow Six, head of the eponymous counter-terror organization now folded into the Special Operations branch of the First Combined Army. He watched on his holo-monitors as his teams moved on the hideout of the Port Kirin Liberation Front.
He was anxious. Did he miss anything? All eight tangos were confirmed present in this building on the edge of the city. The Constabulary and the Triple-S had spent the last week with eyes on this building. The active scans of the place confirmed that the PKLF cell only used the ground floor and basement. The single-access stairwell to the upper floors of the old building had collapsed some time ago and rendered the upper floors near inaccessible, at least for their targets. Therefore, they had four entry avenues: a fire escape tunnel in the basement; two entrances on the ground floor; and from the roof. Their PA-404 Susanoo power armor, utilized to great effect in the raid on Hermantown, granted them more attack vectors than ever before along with its stealth and survivability. The rapid expansion of Rainbow mixed the veteran members of the organization with new blood from Earth, the ISA, and even some from the former Star League rescued from Columbus. They had practiced in recent months on mock missions, but the team from five months ago was much larger than it was before. There would be five six-person squads in the assault, with two more squads in reserve. The assault plan was such: an infiltration team would traverse through the trap-laden tunnels and work their way to the entrance of the first floor to cut off any means of escape; three teams would assault the ground floor, the snipers positioned to provide fire support and cut off the ground floor exits; the final team would take the roof by way of a low altitude Baliset drop, already positioned one-thousand meters above the building. A reserve squad was onboard that transport with the other on the ground in case the situation got hairier. They ruled out any ground floor windows or walls to blow through, as they were boarded up and far too reinforced for a standard load of explosives to penetrate.
The plan had gone off without complication thus far. All teams were in position, and there was nothing on sensors or sniper's eyes to indicate external guards. If they had to use the old heartbeat sensors, then the walls of the compound would have been impossible to see through and the position of their targets would have been unknown. Thanks to the ISA's incredible sensors, they were able to not only see their opponents but also if they had any surprises for them. Unfortunately, there were quite a few. The basement squad was forewarned about numerous booby traps, along with an inordinate amount of explosives stored in the basement. They had a wireless signal jammer over the building via the Baliset in case they planned to blow the joint, but that would do nothing if they had a hardwire backup. The doors on the ground floor were wired with an alarm, but there was nothing to be done about that. They just had to wire explosives on the doors carefully and blow them to signal their entrance.
For many under his command, this was their first real mission with Rainbow. Chavez shook his head.
Goddamnit, why did I let myself get promoted?
Like any soldier, 'Fumihiro Kitakawa' hated to wait. He had long accepted that much of his work was to simply sit and wait. Luckily it wouldn't be long now. The entire strike team was assembled. One (they never learned one another's names to protect their covers) held the final briefing. The preparations were complete. Transport was arranged in an abandoned garage a few blocks away. Everyone knew the plan of attack on the Port Kirin Administration Building down to the last detail. They had considered an attack on the ISA Army Headquarters just outside of the city, but that was out of the question. They had been unable to secure a route into the base, and the military planners had been meticulous in their rings of defense. The Administration Building was a much more realistic target. In two hours, just after midnight, they would mobilize into two team and position themselves to hit the target two hours before dawn. The plan called for an infiltration of the compound followed by a series of explosions. One team was to hit the Administration Building itself, the other the staff quarters. After the mission, the LOKI agents would disperse, run aground, and leave the planet over the span of a few months. If things went wrong, they had agents Nine and Ten whom none had been in direct contact with since their first meeting on Antallos and remained hidden. They would monitor the situation and report back to the Commonwealth, just in case.
A few minutes after the attack, their erstwhile hideout would be destroyed by the charges set shortly after their arrival. The countdown had begun. Six had proven himself to be an explosives whisperer as they were set up in a way that insured that evidence would remain. That evidence would point directly at the Draconis Combine as responsible for the terror campaign that would culminate in their final attack on the ISA government house.
He wondered whether he should attempt to fit a nap in after the briefing. One had rejected the idea of posting guards outside. The traps they had in place and the alarms on the ground level doors would draw less suspicion toward their base of operations, especially as the few rooms they used made sure that no light escaped to the outside. It was simply one of the many (dwindling) ruins on the outskirts of the city.
As he lay down to get some rest, his waning consciousness was rudely interrupted.
Staff Sergeant Paddy Connolly examined the closed door in the fire escape tunnel. His HUD indicated the presence of explosive material in the door frame, and more explosives beyond. He shook his head. There was no way to breech the tunnel without an eruption of violence. The last three booby traps were easy enough to disarm, but this was a completely different beast. He placed an explosive charge on the door along with the floor in front and signaled the team to pull back. As he retreated back five meters, he opened a channel to Chavez.
"Six this is Connolly, over." He said in the enclosed helmet of his power armor.
Chavez' image appeared on his HUD, "Connolly, this is Six. Go ahead, over."
"Ding, we can't make it through without a fiesta of fire down here, over."
"Roger. What are your options, over?"
"I got two charges, one on the door, one on the floor, over."
"Roger. Let me confirm with the other teams, wait - out." The line was silent for a few moments before Chavez' image reappeared, "Connolly, Six. The other teams will assault. Trigger the door explosive on my mark, over."
"Roger, Six. Connolly out." He looked to the rest of the squad.
Fellow Rainbow veteran Sergeant Mike Pierce was directly behind him and held a bead on the door. Behind Pierce were four newcomers to their special operations group: Sergeant Gang Ts'ao, former People's Liberation Army Special Operations Forces; Sergeant Mart Wieringa, former Royal Netherlands Army; Sergeant Parris Knežević, ISA; and Sergeant Stacy Shea, former Star League Defense Force. They were determined to get in the fight, but here they were relegated to defend the door. To be sat on the sidelines for this did not please the operators, but to dive headlong into explosive hell was not an appealing option. So, they sat and waited for their comrades to do their work.
For half a second, Kitakawa and his people were frozen upon the deafening explosions from the ground floor doors. Then, the room roused to action. Many of them were armed already as the remainder grabbed submachine guns and grenades. The explosions disoriented them as they rushed to defensive positions.
"Case Blue!" One yelled. The plan was in motion. The layout of the building favored them and funneled any attack from the ground floor entrances into a single axis of advance. There was the entrance from the second floor, but given the lack of stairs, it was a nonissue. The LOKI team had further reinforced this advantage and walled off several corridors. Case Blue called for a staggered retreat to the basement until they could assess the situation, and this funnel to the basement. The only potential flaw was the hole from the second floor.
Almost instinctively the group formed into two-man teams. Seven and Eight covered door intruders would have to enter while everyone else stormed into the stairwell access. Kitakawa lead the retreat, and as he reached the head of the stairs, he heard a clink by his feet.
Sergeant First Class George Tomlinson knelt at the hole on the second floor. The aerial insertion from Baliset went off without a hitch. He knew that the tunnel team couldn't advance, so it was up to him and his squad to halt these people and hopefully bring them in alive. He dropped a flashbang down the hole as he saw a gaggle of people in civilian clothing approach the stairwell. His fellow Rainbow vet Steve Lincoln did the same. They backed away from the hole and waited the seconds for the grenade to blind their targets.
Louis Loiselle blew open the door at the end of the hallway. He brought his rifle up, his sights on a stunned armed man and pulled the trigger twice. The offending party had no chance to react as two rounds found his chest and he fell with no ceremony. His counterpart Ecole Fallaci took down the other tango with his own two-shot group. They threw two more flashbangs down the hall and took cover.
Kitakawa pawed at his eyes with his free hand. He had fallen down the stairs as the flashbang exploded behind him. One was right behind him, but he was most certainly worse for wear. The flashbang had exploded near One's leg and while he lived, his leg was badly burnt. Whoever remained upstairs were probably done. He cursed silently to himself. They had left the second-floor hole completely exposed. Their defense strategy was sound, save that gaping flaw. He brought himself to his feet and shouldered his weapon. He had to help One to the fire escape tunnel. He would reset the timer on the explosives and give him and One just enough time to escape.
He dragged One to his feet and helped him walk to their next strongpoint. Maybe, just maybe, some of the team would make it down.
Tomlinson kicked the weapon away from the prone man, scattered to the floor by the flashbang. Tomlinson flipped the man on his back and bound him quickly. There were still tangos in the basement, and they needed to be dealt with. He threw a flashbang down the staircase and took cover.
The mission had collapsed.
Kitakawa dragged One to the entrance of the fire escape tunnel. He propped One against a structural beam and deactivated the trap on the door. If he didn't, his body would be covered in shrapnel and whatever remained incinerated by the forty-millimeter grenades mixed with inferno gel. Successful, he turned toward the basement stairs. His world turned white and his ears rang as a flashbang detonated a few meters away. He could hear and see nothing as the door to the fire escape blew open and people emerged from the tunnel. He felt two pairs of hands push him down as he was bound, helpless against whomever bested him. He was done. The operation was a failure, and even worse, he was captured.
Paddy Connolly rushed to what looked like a detonator. It was a simple device with a time readout on it. It counted down from two hours. It was already at one hour-thirty. He searched the box for a reset switch, and thankfully it was there. He knew they were lucky. This device was hardwired into the detonation line. If it was destroyed, there would have been no way to prevent the detonation. He sighed a breath of relief. His squad treated the wounded tango. It looked like he caught a flashbang to the leg. The results weren't pretty, but completely reversible. He looked around the basement. There was enough firepower in this room to outfit a company of infantry for war. Whoever these people were, they weren't some ragtag group of 'freedom fighters.' They looked like a proper black op.
Domingo Chavez was relieved. The Baliset transport had set down and Rainbow bagged the living PKLF operatives under guard. They prepared them for transport, black bags over their heads. The dead were transferred to a ground vehicle for transport to First Army Headquarters. The prisoners were headed the same way, just faster. It was clear as he toured the broken building that the Port Kirin Liberation Front was a professional outfit. This was funded by serious backers, and the markings on the equipment and crates made it apparent who the primary suspect was. For this discovery, he had a few wounded troopers to look after.
They were extremely lucky. The Susanoo power armor proved its weight in gold on this operation. He remembered the sensation: he felt like Iron Man in the suit. Tonight proved that it had the resiliency of that seemingly-fictional armor. The most damage was caused by explosives, traps unseen by the ground floor entry team. When they pushed down the corridor to the basement stairs, charges went off that sprayed Louis' team with shrapnel. Louis, Thorpe, and three others had bits and pieces embedded in their armor, some even nearly cracked through their visors. Five soldiers battered, but more than alive and without life-threatening wounds. Any rounds that connected with his team were simply shrugged off by the armor. They could hardly feel the impacts, and at worst they had welts on their bodies.
The explosives rigged in the building had been disarmed by Paddy and Thorpe, two of the in-field explosives experts. It was a terrible thought. If they had managed to set off the detonator, his people would be buried under tons of steel and concrete with nothing to show for it.
More soldiers and police arrived on the scene. He took a sip of his coffee as he observed the equipment. The ISA bagged everything, and it would all make it out to First Army Headquarters. The question in his mind was not why someone would do this. With this much equipment, it was easy to see that someone wanted them off world. No, the question was who. Who greenlit this operation?
First Combined Army Headquarters
30 November 2007/862 AS/3022
Chavez knocked on the door to the Triple-S office. The place had been abuzz with activity since the operation on the ruins days prior. A voice beckoned him inside. Fleet Captain Mariko Maeda and Lieutenant Commander Shizuka Banderas sat around a circular table, embedded in the center a holo-imager. Names, faces, data cycled through at an impossible rate.
"Colonel Chavez." Maeda nodded, "Please have a seat."
"Fleet Captain." He took a seat at the table, "So, what do you have?"
"We've sifted through all the materials, and the living prisoners' interviews. There were multiple attempts at self-termination: false teeth with poison and the like. Extremely well disciplined, but we were able to glean information from them along with everything captured from the ruin site."
"We agree with your initial assessment that the Port Kirin Liberation Front were not a local organization." Banderas nodded.
"I assume you have more detail than that." Chavez remarked.
Banderas continued, "Besides the four deceased combatants and their living comrades, we've uncovered a bevy of equipment: small arms and silencers to match; light body armor; night vision goggles; encrypted medium-range radios; military-grade explosives and incendiary devices. The explosives set to blow the ruins were high-quality civilian grade demolition charges. The most shocking were the documents. From a computer and a stack of papers we got a hold of their plans. Many were their attacks over the past several weeks, but they also included photographs and blueprints of the Port Kirin Administration Building and the surrounding structures."
"What?" Chavez stared at Banderas as the images appeared over the table, "How did they get the blueprints? What about the stolen explosives?"
"The Constabulary found the explosives with a smuggling group. Records on the captured computer confirm that the explosives were traded in exchange for Combine-spec weapons. The blueprints, one of the living prisoners was a new hire at the city archives. Records confirm they accessed the archives during their employment. We assume they made hardcopies there, but that is of little concern. The plans alongside those blueprints-"
"Those plans were a goddamn nightmare scenario." Maeda shook her head, "Your raid came just in time, Colonel. From what we've gathered, they planned their largest attack that night."
"How big?" Chavez was apprehensive.
"Massive. They planned on infiltrating the Administration Building and the surrounding structures and sowing the place with the explosives and incendiaries we found. Main targets were the Administration Building itself and the staff quarters, with all the embassies as secondary targets. They were going to hit during the security switch, which the MPs tell me would have given them more than enough time to execute. Conservative estimates put casualties in the mid to upper sixties, with less optimistic projections pushing casualties even higher. We're talking hundreds of dead, with the ambassadors of multiple nations caught in the blast not to mention the civilian casualties.
"Jesus Christo." Chavez muttered.
"You're not wrong, sir." Banderas sighed, "We dodged a railgun slug."
"Do we know who these guys worked for?" Chavez asked.
"That's unclear." Banderas shook her head, "What evidence we have points at the Draconis Combine. All the identified PKLF members arrived on Antallos over past few months. Three of them hailed from periphery worlds galactically north of us, and the other five from Combine worlds. The equipment is certainly Combine manufacture, but the last plan doesn't quite line up with that assessment."
"What do you mean?"
"The Combine Ambassador, her staff, and Tai-sa Kurita reside in the embassy. Why would you decapitate your military on world if you wanted to use your local forces to seize the planet? That doesn't add up. Yes, the equipment is Combine in manufacture, but it doesn't logically make sense. I would guess that the origin of the equipment and these operatives is a false flag and we're dealing with one of the four other major Inner Sphere powers."
"Christ. This looks like a shitshow." Chavez stared at the images and words that hovered over the table.
"The only piece of equipment that points strongly towards the Combine is the radio equipment used. That level of high-end electronics and the encryption at their disposal is usually reserved for Combine special operations or the Internal Security Force. Still, it wouldn't line up with the goals of the attack."
"This stinks of ComStar." Maeda nearly spat, "At every turn, it seems like they truly aim to keep the galaxy destabilized in their obsession to maintain a state of chaos that 'ensures humanity's survival.'"
"Ma'am, we can't know that without hard evidence." Banderas reminded her superior, "At this point, it could be Free Worlds, Commonwealth, Confederation or ComStar. None of these nations have put forth a formal diplomatic mission, and no periphery nation could muster such a professional group, save the Concordat. Even then, we don't pose a threat to the Concordat, so I think they could be pushed to the bottom of the list."
"Great." Chavez shook his head, "We're swimming in alphabet soup."
Department of Colonial Affairs
Cradle
Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
8 December 862 AS/2007
The building that held the once sleepy Department of Colonial Affairs bustled with life. They had been founded in anticipation for colonial expansion over the next few years by the ISA, but the desire to colonize was tempered by the need to secure their tenuous toehold in this universe. The discovery of Earth and the rather radical circumstances they found themselves in reignited the desire to expand, as did the influx of seven billion people into the Independent Systems Alliance. The reintegration of cryogenically hibernated ISA citizens had accelerated, with new homes and facilities under construction on Cradle. Earth's shipbuilding efforts were well underway, with multiple corporations and nations in competition to jumpstart a new kind of space-race.
In an effort to expand and help determine a sustainable colonization framework, the ISA had integrated many of Earth's civilian scientific arms into more centralized departments. Many ended up in the Department of Colonial Affairs. It was their job to pour over the data from the ISA's initial surveys and determine the best options for colonization. Scientists from across Earth interfaced with their ISA counterparts as they worked out colonization strategy. Their resources had expanded, but they were still a few years off their first colony.
In an extremely generous gesture, MSI CEO Iago McGuire had bestowed use of the ISV Kitsune and two prototype ISA-native 'civilian' DropShips. They were much more heavily armed than Earth's civilian scientists were used to, but their ISA analogues were insistent at the necessity. The galaxy was not kind, and to be caught unprepared was to die in the vacuum of space. This boon allowed them to conduct more detailed studies of the worlds in the Grantville cluster. Real-time data from their exploration team cross-referenced with the data from the Columbus Memory Core provided them with a plethora of information of the worlds first colonized by Terra in the initial expansion of the human race tempered with what was found by the sailors and researchers around those worlds.
Commander Kasey Sneijers massaged her temples. The head of Data Analysis for Habitable Worlds had their workload tripled over the past few weeks thanks to the efforts of the Kitsune and its crew. The potential for multiple worlds was considered, with all manner of factors measured. The more populous countries of Earth espoused the desire to push forward an accelerated timetable to settle a new world to help alleviate the stressors on their beleaguered infrastructure. Her office had to field calls from heads of state and other government officials to remind them that responsible, safe settlement efforts would be international and would take time. Generous estimates put initial groundbreaking within three years. More realistic projections held that proper settlement of a new world would be in five.
There was no shortage of habitable worlds. Far from it. The initial data from the ISA's first preliminary patrols of the Grantville Cluster yielded multiple planets. The data from the Columbus Memory Core and the Kitsune refined that list into a hierarchy: Stage One; Stage Two; and Stage Three worlds. The stages represented viability of settlement, with one the most immediately feasible. There were a few worlds that leapt off the page to Sneijers and her staff: Úlfur, in orbit in the Procyon System; Oz, in orbit in the Tau Ceti IV system; and Wonderland, in orbit in the Alpha Centauri system. Naming conventions were left to the crew of the Kitsune and its attached civilian advisors. Oz was the most promising, as it matched the data of New Earth from the Memory Cores and was the first settled world in the BattleTech universe. Úlfur was the wildcard, as no relevant data from the Cores matched that world, yet it was one of the most tantalizing in terms of the real-time data from the Kitsune.
Her work was interrupted as one of the scientists assigned to her department entered her office.
"Kasey," Doctor Lief Johansson greeted, "you've seen the most recent data, right?" He was a former National Geographic biologist from Iceland who volunteered to join the DCA when the call went out on Earth for the best and brightest scientific minds to help decipher the stars.
"In between the calls from China, India, Russia, and Brazil?" She sighed, "Yes I have."
"They're persistent, aren't they?" Johansson shrugged.
"None of them understand the procedures we have in place for settlement of a new world. Automated infrastructure has to be in place after a study before we can begin the settlement process."
"To be frank, I'm glad you guys have a book for this kind of thing. God, I can only imagine the administrative headache for building this all up from scratch."
"Processes built up over the centuries, refined by technologies discovered over the past few decades. We've had to settle and resettle so many times that we had no choice but to refine our methods."
"Understandable." He took a seat, "Well, I wanted to talk about Úlfur. Given the potential resources and the lack of data from the Memory Cores, it may be the best choice for the first colony."
"I've been thinking about that. The security is nice, the fact that not even ComStar would have a record of a settled world in the region would be a boon. The surveyors on the expedition stumbled upon how rich the world is on the first pass, and the habitability metrics look promising, if a bit less stable than we'd like."
"I know that industrial concerns have been salivating for the chance to start interstellar operations, especially mining companies."
"They should be much more focused on in-system material wealth first. The Sol System is chock full of raw material, and to be quite honest Earth itself is more than capable of supporting itself with the new recycling methods and the construction of on-world industrial fabricators. Hell, I've heard rumors of a proposed Dyson Cloud"
"Oh, I know. They're just eager."
"Unbridled greed brought about the state Earth is in. Gods know, my old home nation bore the brunt of what that kind of system yields." Sneijers shook her head, "It's our job to ensure that it doesn't happen again."
"I understand." Johansson noted that almost everyone from the ISA had a severe distaste for the more extreme capitalistic tendencies of the powerful of Earth, "Aside from the data on Úlfur, the Kitsune has found a few more habitable worlds. Wolf-359 is host…"
Office of the Precentor, HPG Station
Port Kirin Outskirts
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
31 December 3022
"Welcome to Port Kirin!" Precentor Long greeted ROM Precentor Style with a warm gesture that pushed the bounds of proper behavior, "I trust your trip from Terra was uneventful?"
Style froze a moment from the forward embrace, "It was quiet, Precentor Long. Thank you for your concern." Released, he recomposed himself, "I am afraid I must cut pleasantries short to address official business."
Long took a step back and nodded, "Please proceed, Precentor."
Style reached into his travel pouch and withdrew a letter, "The Primus and the First Circuit honor your work here over the past year. You have done a great service to ComStar and your diligence in this position has borne fruit. You are hereby promoted from Precentor VIII to Precentor XII, effective immediately."
He passed the handwritten letter to Long, who examined the words with shaking hands. Style took this opportunity to absorb his surroundings. The large window of Precentor Antallos' office looked toward Port Kirin's downtown. He was impressed with the development of this former nest of piracy. To one side of the window hung the traditional painted map of Terra while the Blessed Blake gazed on from the other. Both walls that flanked the window were lined with books.
Long read the letter twice. He placed it delicately on his desk, sat down, and motioned for Style to do the same. His face was a mask, unreadable even to the experienced ROM agent.
"Thank you." Long nodded to him with no trace of emotion, "With the construction of the new facilities done, how long until this facility is properly upgraded?"
"About a month, barring unexpected delays. The construction contracts you requested of the ISA and other local companies on-world have accelerated the timetable some, but we will need to conduct a thorough sweep of all work performed in order to ensure operational security."
"Such caution is prudent." Long agreed, "The ISA is not one to be taken lightly, if what we've seen in their combat operations are any indication of their overall capabilities."
"We do not. We have some leads on potential ISA intelligence operations in the Sphere." Style noted with hidden satisfaction.
"Well, is your official business concluded for the moment?" Long asked the younger man. Style nodded, "In that case, would you like a more in-depth tour of the facility? You can pick which office suits you, as long as it's not mine."
2 January 3022
"Again!?" The ROM technician nearly threw their mobile terminal in frustration, "TAG Alert? Still? I don't get it!"
The supervising Adept looked out the window, "No 'mechs, no drones, nothing is out there aiming at us. Calibration issue, maybe?"
"With what? The star? The only platforms I've ever seen carry a TAG are our 'mechs, and that range is fairly limited. The star is the only thing that could possibly give out false positives like this, and it's already programed to filter that out!"
"Well," the Adept sighed, "if we don't get this fixed by the end of the day, disable the warning and flag it as a hardware error. It's the only element that makes sense."
Forward Operating Base Freeport-One (Former Castle Brian)
Helm
Helm System, Free Worlds League Space
8 January 2008/863 AS/3023
Months of scouring the Freeport base had rendered the crew of the ISV Irulan and the international team incredible results. The memory core was found rather quickly: the large door to a rail compound that held the wealth of information they sought. What came in the months after was even more astounding. The rest of the military complex was a Castle Brian, one of the vaunted Star League-era fortresses that dotted the Inner Sphere. Exploration of the castle revealed equipment, fortifications, and technology untouched since the days of the Star League. It made sense since the planet was ruined hundreds of years ago in a hail of nuclear hellfire. While the memory core held the layout of the castle, it was another thing entirely to see the extent of the fortification firsthand. What would have been visible defenses were gone, paved over by the nukes and time itself, but the rest of the fortress endured. It was a testament to the capabilities of the Star League and the lengths they pursued to cling to power over the rest of the Inner Sphere.
Science teams combed over the numerous facilities as they examined everything from materials composition to every errant piece of technology. ISA Marines set about to recommission the castle and formally christened it Forward Operating Base Freeport-One. For the first time in nearly three centuries, the place brimmed with life. While ostensibly a Free Worlds League world, the lead elements of the Independent Systems Alliance took it upon themselves to occupy and activate the castle as their first outpost in the heart of the Inner Sphere.
Sam Fisher sat in the common room of the expansive base as he ate his meal. He was astounded at how everything remained in working condition despite the never-ending march of time. He was concerned that they reactivated the base prematurely, that officials from Helmsdown would become suspicious of any activity from this part of the planet. Bashar Lucas Anderson assured him that they took all necessary precautions and had hidden themselves as best they could against the feeble Free Worlds League garrison and its civilian population.
David Jackson's efforts after the acquisition the AgroMech factory had already drawn the attention needed away from any of their efforts. The new John Deere AgroMech Factory had already manufactured the tractors and other agricultural hardware to fulfill their original orders. The agrarian nature of Helm sold even more units, with more of the local populace hired to increase manufacturing capacity. Jackson's business may have been a front for an intelligence operation, but he'd be damned if it wasn't going to be profitable.
Fisher's thoughts were interrupted by Lieutenant Colonel Mayamiko Marek, head of the Marine battalion assigned to the Irulan. Since the establishment of FOB Freeport-One, their responsibilities shifted from an aggressive combat unit to a garrison. The battalion was hardly enough to occupy the castle, but they made do.
"Fisher." Marek greeted as they sat across the table from him, tray of food in hand.
"Colonel." Fisher replied with a nod, "I hope that your people aren't stretched too thin."
"Heh. Consider us lucky that we have drones, then. Sensors and weapons platforms are automated, so no need to constantly monitor them. The hardpoints around the base are still there, so personnel concentrations are there. Fortunately, we should see a deployment of a regiment to relieve us sooner rather than later. The Bashar thought it prudent to ensure we're not undermanned." Marek took a bite of their food.
"Well, as long as we can keep it under wraps, I think. Don't want the locals to get squirrelly on us."
Marek chuckled, "Well, they're bringing some gear to help ensure that doesn't happen. The last thing we want is ComStar getting word that a Castle Brian is active and crawling with troops."
"Oh yeah. I just hope we don't have to jump the gun when it comes to stopping the Word."
"I'm sure you'd agree that shit like that'll always find a way to interrupt even the most carefully laid plans. We are dealing with people, after all."
Fisher chuckled, "Ain't that the truth."
ComStar Central Headquarters
Hilton Head Complex, Terra
Sol System, ComStar Space
15 January 3022
Precentor Atreus Demona Aziz looked over the latest reports from Precentor Mulligan Fox since his deployment to Antallos. Precentor ROM Tojo Jarlath requested his reassignment to the newest hub of activity in the Periphery and she graciously obliged. She wanted to shift any sort of suspicion away from herself, lest she be subject to another of the Primus' punishments. Her record since that incident had been exemplary, but she wanted to play it safe all the same.
Fox's insights into the ISA had been illuminating despite her initial concerns about the veracity of his claims. These people had proven their prowess when they discovered and seized the 'mech assets that she had sent to Antallos in their attacks on the other city-states. While she made sure her people scrubbed the 'mechs of any trace of ComStar, if these people were half as clever as their technology then it would not take them long to realize that no power in the Inner Sphere could have provided them with hardware like those 'mechs. She quietly cursed them for their efficiency but understood that the potential for success was slimmer than she would have liked. She also ensured that there were enough intermediaries between her office and the hardware that no one internally could take advantage of the failure and hold it over her.
Fox's reports were interesting. The ISA's military transmissions were not only encrypted but seemed to travel radio bands. She had never heard of such a technique and marked it for further investigation by the Science and Research branch. Civilian transmissions were broadcast over open frequencies, but this was only for contractors to communicate with their ISA liaisons, not for important business. The ISA's Law Enforcement branch, what she learned was named the Constabulary, had remade Port Kirin's anarchic power structure to one more akin to a proper city. She noted that they used force in only the most extreme scenarios as most officers roamed the streets with no sidearm.
The report shed just a little more light on the military capability of the ISA. Fox noted that more of the unknown model of 'mechs were deployed on world, their numbers estimated to be at least three 'mech companies, possibly more. ISA news services boasted of a battalion, but she and Fox agreed that such a number would require such substantial industrial capability to deploy and field such a force would be near impossible. The report also noted that all medium and most heavy 'mechs were not seen on the battlefield which indicated they were rotated out in favor of these new 'mechs. Even if they didn't have the capability to deploy a battalion, they were confident enough to resort to using only these models for their frontline forces. The only 'standard' 'mechs fielded were Battlemasters heavily modified to match the capabilities of these unknown 'mechs.
Fox's last note was that the ROM team assigned to him had proven to be more than a tad difficult to work with, many of them did not take his analyses of the ISA seriously. This concerned but did not surprise her: many of the Adepts were skeptical of Fox's claims and a number of them resentful of his promotion to Precentor. If he could navigate a room full of naive Adepts, he could have a bright future in both ROM and under her employ. She hoped that the young man would prove to be an asset to Precentor Style and serve the word of Blake.
She read the rest of the report he made to Style: Project Masada. An ancient program from the height of the Star League, conceived by Lord Johnathan Cameron. It took the concept of the Castle Brian and expanded it to a planetary scale. It was intended to provide fanatically loyal troops to the Star League at a rate of a division a month. Fox's current theory hypothesized that Motherlode was one of these worlds, established and expanded over a century. Hundreds of millions, if not a billion, soldiers to seed a word completely loyal to the Star League to the last. If they had such numbers as a seed population, it stood to reason that they held multiple worlds in order to ease their population burden and have the industrial capacity to manufacture the weapons seen on Antallos. To have not borne witness first-hand to the destruction of the Succession Wars, to be at what appeared to be the forefront of technology in the Inner Sphere, it threatened ComStar's mission to protect the Inner Sphere. What would the Sphere look like if this technology spread, if the destructive capability of the ISA disseminated throughout the desiccated remains of the Successor States?
Aziz marked a message to be delivered to her close friend Precentor Dieron Myndo Waterly. The ISA had to be brought under the umbrella of ComStar, by any means necessary. The Primus would agree, she was sure of it.
Office of the Systems Security Service
First Combined Army Headquarters
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
"Who the hell is this Precentor Mulligan Fox?" Fleet Captain Maeda asked after she reviewed the captured footage of the ComStar brief.
"Recently promoted Adept transferred from Terra at the behest of ROM Precentor Style." Lieutenant Commander Banderas stated as she sat across from her superior.
"Gods, the source material doesn't mention anything about Project Masada. They think Earth is a Castle Brian on a planetary scale… imagine if those are out there…" Maeda shuddered.
"Regardless, Captain, it appears that this ROM contingent is taking us seriously." Banderas took a sip of her tea.
"Agreed. It's fortunate that we have the assets in place to surveil them at our leisure." Maeda rolled her shoulders, "Put a pin in this and make sure we have a manned team on them at all times."
"Already done."
"Good." Maeda sighed as she reviewed the rest of the day's intelligence briefing, "We're deploying a Gesserit to… Artru? Possible location of a Castle Brian brimming with technology… Very interesting."
"Bashar Scarman has already enclosed orders to Ambassador Smith to approach the Magistracy with an offer to assist High Lady Arano in her campaign to retake the Aurigan Reach." Banderas noted.
"Should take some heat off us. MIIO, SAFE, TMI and Maskirovka will probably watch that situation closely. I'm sure the four of them wouldn't want the others to have undue influence in such a strategic buffer state." Her eyes scanned further in the document, "Hold on, deployment of a regiment of Marines to Helm?"
"It's a Castle Brian, ma'am. Bashar Anderson's report indicates that it is currently undermanned and in order to maintain a sufficient presence on-world will require a regiment."
"That's five-thousand soldiers. Even with our cloaking technology, a presence like that will be hard to mask."
Banderas shrugged, "It's what was requested and approved. Scarman indicates here that the deployment is worth the risk."
Maeda rubbed her temples, "Gods, I think I need a break. We're accelerating our operations extremely quickly, and I don't think we'll be able to mask our full capabilities from the Inner Sphere for too much longer at this rate."
Banderas offered a smile and pushed a cup of tea to her superior, "Ma'am, if I may. Take a sip, please."
"Everything is moving so quickly. I haven't seen us mobilize and expand like this in decades." Maeda took a sip of tea, "If the source material is to be believed, this universe is on the brink of war and our presence just might fan the flames."
The pair were interrupted by the beeping console between them. It was urgent. The room locked itself down as security protocols engaged and the images of Supreme Bashar Merlow and Bashar Superior Scarman appeared seated at their table. Banderas and Maeda leapt to their feet at attention.
"At ease." Merlow nodded, "No time for pomp and circumstance. We've got a problem."
"What level of problem, sir?" Maeda asked as she sat back down.
"Inter-universal, Fleet Captain." Scarman replied, "Silverfish Station reported an unauthorized bubble entrance and exit. Something passed between universes and through our void-bubble."
Banderas took a breath, "Oh shit."
Scarman activated the imager in the center of the table. It revealed an old Liberty destroyer design, "We managed to get a scan of the vessel before it blinked away."
"An old Liberty IFF, one I didn't think I'd ever see again." Merlow stared at the imager, "They wouldn't have it on or disengage stealth protocol unless they wanted us to know it was them. That crew was much more careful than to announce themselves like that."
Maeda shook her head and blinked in disbelief, "That can't be right."
"You can't spoof that IFF." Scarman sighed, "I didn't think we'd ever see him again."
"I've never met them." Banderas chimed in, "I only know the records."
"Well, you better get to know him, then." Merlow changed the image to an old Liberty Navy file. The image was decades old and portrayed a man in his late fifties, "Along with everything else on our plate, it looks like he's returned. Fleet Admiral Cerun is back, and we have to know why."
ISA Simulation Farm
24 January 2008/863 AS/3023
"FIRE!"
"On the way!"
The cannon of the Ix roared as it sent a railgun slug to its target. The simulated mass of metal closed the gap only to fly above the shoulder of the Valkyrie as it began its descent from its jump. Another round had more luck and managed to find its target. The shields of the 'mech collapsed, and it disappeared behind a dune.
Captain Jakob Nordin, Commanding Officer of Second Company, Third Battalion, was an unhappy man indeed. He had arrived the week before from Earth, and this was the first exercise planet-side for him and his men. It was not going as planned. The objective was simple: advance through the sector against an enemy force which consisted of 'mechs and armor. That force was a good deal below strength compared to his company. That force also happened to be commanded by the Buron Cavalry, and he was eager to show his mettle.
That was before this simulation. A lance of light 'mechs utilized their jump jets and the broken ground that dominated the western part of the map to slow his advance to a crawl. Nordin had seen the layout of the area and knew that to try and follow his assailants into that mess would be folly. The west was a 'playground' of wadis, creeks, steep dunes, and uneven terrain that no sane tanker would ever want to drive over under the best of circumstances. With a lance of jump-capable 'mechs as his opponent, to chase would be suicide, even with Ix tanks. That ground was perfect for the hit-and-run attacks he and his men were on the receiving end of.
As he scanned for targets, another volley of LRMs from what seemed like every direction struck the lead tank of his third platoon.
"Gunfighter Three-One, damage report, over." Nordin commanded over comms.
"Minor armor damage. A few made it past the pulse laser, over."
He sighed to himself. The tank of his XO got knocked out almost immediately as this skirmish began. A volley of missiles tore apart the track of that Ix. Once the tank was immobilized, two Jenners and a Javelin descended upon the easy target. The upgrades made to the Buron Cav's 'mechs were more than enough to overwhelm the isolated target. His company nearly fell apart from the incident, but Nordin managed to recollect his tankers and regroup. His platoons fended off their attackers, but none scored kills. The constant game of whack-a-mole didn't interest him, so he made the decision to advance toward the objective area. If the Cav wanted to chase them into open ground, they were welcome to try.
"Three-One is down! I repeat Three-One is down!"
The call over the radio shook him out of his planned advance and geared his brain into overdrive. More missiles had disabled Three-One and overwhelmed the pulse laser system. The tactic of disabled treads and concentrated fire from the dunes decapitated a platoon and threw them into chaos. Platoon Three was pinned down and forced to pop chaff-smoke as the crew of Three-One abandoned their tank and retreated into the remaining vehicles of their platoon. Nordin's brain went into overdrive as he began to bark commands to his company.
"Second platoon, fall back to line Alpha and provide covering fire for third platoon! Fourth platoon, form up behind us! We're turning this into a running battle!" He switched to internal tank comms, "Driver, forward! Gunner, rail, 'mech, three o'clock, fifteen-hundred!"
"Identified!" His gunner responded.
"FIRE!"
"On the way!"
The Ix rumbled as it sent a rail gun slug careening downrange. The light 'mech popped back behind the dune as the slug sailed over it. He issued another command for missiles. Even if they couldn't see them, the onboard VI should be able to roughly predict its target's position. A volley of Tiger Shark missiles launched from his turret into the predicted location of the light 'mech. As the missiles were in the air, a quartet of shapes crested the dunes a few hundred meters further down. His confusion gave way to horror as four particle cannon shots and a bevy of missiles tore into the lead tank of second platoon. Their advance ground to a halt as more missiles exploded around his tanks and enveloped them in a blanket of smoke. He pressed the attack. He knew full well that he needed to get the situation under control…
Simulation Farm Briefing Room
Forty-five minutes later, Nordin entered the briefing room. Full of apprehension, he expected a full dressing down from his superiors. Upon his entrance, he spotted the holo-projector of the last simulation and was greeted by Captain Nicholas Cawthorn, CO of First Company and an old friend of his. Both saluted. Cawthorn ushered him to an open seat.
"I'll grab us some coffee. Nice job out there, Jakob. Major Heller'll be here in ten so we can start the debrief."
"Thanks." Nordin shook his head as he took a seat, "I'm so looking forward to the Major tearing into me for letting those mercs hand me my ass on a platter. Five dead light 'mechs, two dead tanks, another two disabled for my whole company? Major'll rip my head off."
"Nah, don't be so harsh on yourself."
"Harsh? My entire company was wiped out by a much of mercs at a ludicrous casualty rate!"
"You and just about every other tank CO that's an Earth native. We've been putting every new plant-side company through this scenario and only the ISA people managed to beat Captain Tavrel and his folks on the first try. You are yours are just the newest entry on a long list."
Nordin blinked, "Seriously?"
"Oh yeah. The scenario might have looked in your favor at first glance, but those guys know exactly how to play newcomers. Now, guess what the problems were. What went wrong?"
"First contact." Nordin shook his head, "Goddamn missiles came raining down on us. Made a real mess of coordination and they timed their attacks perfectly to make sure we couldn't coordinate effectively. I fucked up, lost control, and unit cohesion went up in smoke. How the hell did they manage to get their tanks through that mess of terrain on the western part of the map?"
"Good call, better than most, but not quite there. The missiles on their tanks fired in coordination with their light 'mechs. With the upgrades afforded, ISA-spec laser designators, and their timing, by the time your VI could notify you of a laser lock those missiles were already all around you. Your first mistake was a simpler one, one all of us trained on Earth are prone to make. You let a bunch of light 'mechs slow your company to a crawl and provoke you into a game of whack-a-mole with your tanks."
"What should I have done? Ignore them and let them rip my company apart from behind while we drive by?" Nordin asked.
"My point exactly. We were trained under the paradigm that a light force can quickly cripple or kill a tank given that kind of opportunity. It's just now we have armor and shields that allow us to take hits and keep going. With our old tech, you'd've been right. Now, simply driving on and continuing the advance has become a viable option. Hell, you saw that when you finally started to advance and fire on the move. It's just by the time you did, their tanks own tanks were already in a position to hit you in the flank. If you advanced the way you did earlier, they would have had to either give up or follow your company out in the open where you would've torn them apart. That, and your call at the end. Closing with and destroying the enemy was your primary objective, and your aggression was commendable, but charging through the smoke into a chaotic knife-fight was the worst thing you could've done short of sitting on your ass. The Ix is a monster, unlike any other tank we've ever fielded and better than anything the Inner Sphere has to offer, but those fights are where the Buron Cav shines. With the upgrades, their Manticore tanks are only a couple tiers below the Ix and messy engagements are where the Cav can exploit their experience."
Cawthorn handed Nordin a cup of coffee and sat next to him. Nordin took a sip and stared at the holo-projection.
"I've never seen the Ix fall as quickly ours did in any exercise."
"That's because you haven't faced people who actually know how to use the tools they have to their fullest." Cawthorn smirked, "Those Cav guys, they've been at this far longer than we have. They know the strengths and weaknesses of their equipment, and they've been using it for years. With the upgrades the ISA's afforded them, they're even more deadly. A coordinated, experienced Ix company can take this scenario, but that's because they have as much experience as the Cav guys, maybe even more so. That Manticore platoon you faced out there, it's almost as if they can read each other's minds. They've fought together for so long that they pretty much pre-empt one another. The same goes for the ISA tankers. You listen to their comms, Cav or ISA, and they hardly say anything to one another. Yet, it's like they're telepathic. The maneuvers they're able to pull off, you'd think it was impossible, but that's what decades of combat experience'll get you. So, don't feel bad man. You got your ass handed to you by guys who've been doing this shit since we were in basic."
Nordin took a long drink from his coffee, "Well. Shit."
Downtown Core Residential Block
31 January 3023
'Aren Questos' was left to pick up the shattered pieces of the botched LOKI operation. His orders before and during the mission was to simply observe and report back all relevant information back to Tharkad. He was unable to observe the operatives directly, but he was able to see the response of the ISA to the chaos. What he observed was a well-coordinated nation-state who dealt with intense turmoil with precision and grace. Any fires that 'Fumihiro Kitakawa' and his compatriots set were extinguished immediately, and any attempt to destabilize the nascent Independent Systems Alliance hold on Antallos was for naught. Even the last action of the LOKI team was handled with deftly as the entire team was either killed or captured.
There was nothing left for him now except to hold tight with his observations sent and his own task in the debacle complete. He was still in disbelief. The efficiency of the ISA's intelligence service was to be commended, even if it resulted in a complete mission failure for his compatriots. He had to respect such efficiency. LOKI did not underestimate this opponent. They had taken every precaution and executed their tasks to the letter. They had applied the appropriate amount of force. In this case, it just seemed that the ISA were able to adapt and overcome every obstacle that LOKI threw at them.
He kept up on the local news. There were no reports concerning who the ISA suspected was behind the attacks. Simply 'ongoing investigations.' That worked for and against them. The aim was, in the event of mission failure, blame would be cast on the Draconis Combine and strain the blossoming relationship between the two nations. With no official response from their government office, there was no way to determine what they thought. Attempts to fan the flames of discord had fallen on deaf ears as the news cycle had moved on to the combat operations against the six nearest city-states and their subsequent liberation. It was an unfortunate result of timing and interstellar communication.
The only real positive to result from this was the potential to increase the local intelligence budget and news of an official diplomatic mission in the coming months. He breathed a sigh of relief that perhaps he would no longer be alone on a shoestring budget against people with autonomous drone fleets and highly advanced technology. He knew that to increase his station in the Lyran Commonwealth, he needed to show results. Maybe, if he were able to capture a drone and get it into the hands of the Archon it would reflect favorably upon him.
He got back to his cover: baking. His thoughts swam with potential plans to increase his status and prove himself in the Archon's service. Even if this mission was a failure, it may prove to be an opportunity in disguise…
Office of the Head of Espionage
Lyran Intelligence Corps Central Headquarters
Tharkad System, Lyran Commonwealth Space
2 February 3023
Simon Hauer, head of Lyran Intelligence, looked over to the sealed folder of the final mission report from Antallos. He feared the worst from the LOKI fanatics. In their unwavering loyalty to the Commonwealth, their propensity for extreme violence was both a boon and bane to the nation. His hands hesitated, uncertain whether to know the result of the operation. The weather outside howled as though a warning against what was to come. He shook his head to clear himself of doubt and opened the folder.
Operative 'Aren Questos' report was concise, to the point. The entire operation went to shit. All LOKI participants were either killed or captured before the execution of their last mission. They had determined to help destabilize relations between the Combine and the ISA they would strike the former Governor's Palace and the surrounding Embassy Row. Previous operations included terror attacks against military personnel and civilian targets to drive a wedge between the populace and the interim government. The report indicated all attempts to fulfill the overarching objectives had resulted in abject failure. In fact, the terror attacks helped solidify the population's support of the ISA against outside interference. Simon cupped his face in his hands and sighed. For such expenditure of time and resources, the LOKI agents did very little. If there was any positive result, it was the fact that no evidence existed to link the Lyran Commonwealth to the attack.
Perhaps that would be the only thing that he could emphasize to the Archon. She would not be happy with the activities of LOKI against this brand-new nation-state, but he was determined to make the most of the pile of garbage handed to him. He had to have a plan to deal with intelligence operations on Antallos ahead of a formal diplomatic mission. He put the report aside and began to type on his personal computer. Agent lists, equipment needs, assets needed to expand on the former pirate haven. 'Questos' request for more agents and an expanded budget would be authorized. The Commonwealth needed to know more about this upstart Periphery power.
Conference Hall, Diplomatic Wing
Port Kirin Administration Building
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
10 February 863 AS/2008/3023
The atmosphere was tense. Representatives from the remaining free city-states of Antallos had arrived via ground vehicles the previous day. They had refused transport aboard ISA vessels, insistent on their own ancient ground craft. With Proctor, Konkrite, Resortland, Digger's Stop, Malice Fist, and Hermantown under the ISA umbrella after the abortive conflict those city-states conducted just months ago, the remaining city-states saw the writing on the wall and agreed to sit down with the governing body of Port Kirin and the ISA's ambassador. Over fifty representatives from about thirty city-states sat around the massive circular table. Their general disposition was glum to say the least. For the first time in centuries an organized force had landed on the world and invoked their will. Unlike the Draconis Combine three centuries earlier, the ISA practiced a judicious application of force and diplomatic overtures to achieve their goals. When diplomacy failed and push came to shove, their military might overcame all those who met them in battle.
The delegates discussed among themselves. Used to enforcing their will under the weight of BattleMechs and gunfire, they were not as well adjusted for a proper diplomatic discourse. They were all well adjusted for the uneasy stand-off that existed on world. For a power to greatly exceed them all, it was a new experience for all of them. Six of their contemporaries mustered up their combined arms and failed spectacularly. The leaders of those city-states were all either dead or imprisoned. Everyone knew that if they wanted to avoid the same fate, they would have to come to the table. Before each of them was a stack of papers. Some of them flipped through the pages. Many deigned to do so, still in defiance of their imminent fate.
From the door in the central wall of the room emerged Ambassador Charles Smith and Bashar Superior Thomas Serov. Behind them entered six armed guards in full combat kit and stationed themselves around the room. The message of the entrance of armed guards was clear: We don't trust you. To be fair, they didn't trust one another. Serov thought it prudent to bring arms to the discussion to reinforce the gravity of the situation against the protests of Ambassador Smith.
The pair took their place at the empty seats at the table. Serov leaned forward and cleared his throat.
"Alright, people," Serov began as he cupped his hands together, "welcome to Port Kirin. As you well noticed during your arrival yesterday, this is not the festering blister on humanity that has existed for the past couple centuries. Now, we understand that the circumstances of the Succession Wars have wrought nothing but devastation across this world. Many of your cities must exist under habitation domes to survive. Such circumstances have bred the environment that smolders to this day. Slavery, piracy, oppression, rule of the gun." He shook his head, "No longer. We're here, and we're here to stay. Trust me when I say this: You have never seen anyone like us. We're here to rebuild this place, to turn it into a diamond in a pile of coal."
Ambassador Smith nodded, "Everyone, before you are the formal conditions of entry into the Independent Systems Alliance as a member-state. These are the same conditions given to the nations of Earth upon their entry into the ISA. Now, because of the circumstances of this world, there are additional clauses after the initial treaty in order to ensure proper integration. You are not the only ones to receive the additional conditions. Many nations on Earth received similar treatment. Please." He motioned to the stack of papers before him.
With grunts and murmurs the delegates began the process of reading the thick document. The language was thick to the myriad of warlords, trader barons, and despots used to simpler vernacular in their official dealings. Squinting eyes and confused grumbling dominated the room. A delegate from Green Sea piped up.
"Hold on, we gotta be investigated?" he asked incredulously, "For what?"
"It states there in plain language." Smith answered, "Criminal activity according to the laws of the Independent Systems Alliance."
"That's fucked!" another representative exclaimed.
"Hardly" Smith shook his head, "The previous administrators of our currently held city-states all proved to be incompetent, malicious, criminally inclined, or some combination thereof. In order to ensure a proper transition of power and a smooth rebuilding process we have to be confident that those in power are trustworthy and able to carry out their duties."
"Just 'cause our cities don't meet your soft bullshit don't mean-"
"The requirements for signing on are non-negotiable." Serov stated with finality, "You don't like 'em, fine. You can keep to your city-state. Just keep in mind that what trade exists will evaporate like water in the free zones. No space traffic will reach you. You will be alone, and I don't think any of you can keep what power you hold without trade with the rest of the world, let alone the galaxy. Like it or not, you're all interconnected. Food, water, goods, services, all these require you all to trade with one another. We hold some of the richest mineral deposits on-world. We produce enough food to feed almost all the city-states under our current jurisdiction. We control aerospace. We control one of the major water service centers. We control the spaceport. Consider the consequences of leaving that document unsigned. You sign up, your cities not only survive but they thrive. Sure, you may not keep your current office, but that's a hell of a lot better than being beheaded by an angry populace." Serov concluded with a shrug.
The grumbles increased in volume and urgency.
"Let me be clear!" Serov boomed. The room quieted, "We're not messing about. Do we want to go back to a war footing? No. Will we if you lot try and threaten us? Yes. You all've seen what happened in the last attempt. We can scale that up if necessary. The skies belong to us. You all know what that means. We can be everywhere and nowhere. If you walk out of this room without signing that document, your city-state will be flagged and the economic pressure from the lack of trade will force you to come back. Hell, you may not come back if your people don't let you. I can make you this promise: Your cooperation will ensure that you remain alive and unharmed as long as you remain supportive."
The delegates all glanced at Serov then one another. Smith noticed the shift of air in the room.
"I think this calls for a recess." Smith announced, "Feel free to gather the documents for review and discuss amongst yourselves. Outside, there are rooms available to you for private discussion."
The city-state delegates rose from the table and left the room under the watchful eyes of the six soldiers. When the last one departed, the door sealed. Smith and Serov could speak freely.
"The threats were completely unnecessary, Bashar." Smith glared at Serov, annoyed with the military man, "We need them to come around of their own accord, not under duress."
"Ambassador, I know scum like this." Serov took a beat, "I've been in the game for a long time. Before I joined a military proper, I was a mercenary. I had to work contracts for fuckers like this. They only respect absolutes. They know only power. The only way you can convince them is to clearly lay out that the negative consequences will be painful."
"With respect, Bashar, we can't solve the institutional problems on this world by enforcing the same rule to replace with our own. These things take a delicate hand, and to lay down an ultimatum like yours will encourage more problems than it solves."
"That's why you're here, Charlie." Serov smirked, "Classic 'good cop, bad cop' routine. I'm the hardass, the one who won't budge an inch. You're the one who's meant to make the real progress, the one to 'convince' the hardball guy to bend a bit to make real progress."
Smith sighed, "I really hope this works, Serov. If we can unite Antallos this conference, we can refocus our efforts on reconstruction and dealing with the rest of the galaxy."
"'Diplomacy under duress' is Robby's preferred method of negotiation. I think we can swing it."
Treasury and Materials Administration
Cradle Civilian Administration Complex, Cradle
Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
15 February 863 AS/2008/3023
'Waste Not, Want Not.' This phrase was hung over the entrance of the Treasury and Materials Administration building. It formed the modus operandi of the department. Years of hopping from universe to universe, wars, and the tight constraints placed on a massive population adrift as long as the Independent Systems Alliance forced the whole of the Alliance to take the phrase to heart. Nothing was to be wasted, and everything available to them was utilized in whatever means was needed. With the recency of abundance from the induction of a twenty-first century Earth and settlement on Cradle had thrust their population living on the very edge to a long-awaited era of plenty. The past three years had allowed an abundance unseen since their first exodus. They had two solar systems worth of resources to utilize and an industrial base with decreased reliance on their naval vessels. Despite this, the department had endeavored to stick to their founding principle.
What seemed to be endless locations on Earth were on the project list as what were once considered 'third world' locations by the more developed nations on Earth were now subject to growth thanks to the technology of the ISA. Nations such as the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Chad were in the process of transformation from forgotten by the world at large into potential economic jewels as those recently released from cryogenic stasis with the correct backgrounds were encouraged to settle and assist these formerly struggling locations. Abandoned buildings and run-down places in more developed nations were converted into subsidized housing to begin the process of the complete elimination of homelessness. The internationalization of what the ISA considered 'essential utilities' was underway even with the stiff legal resistance from certain large corporations and landowner organizations. Power, water, shelter, and communications were set to be internationalized to ensure that the entirety of Earth was connected and taken care of. Unionization of all industries was encouraged to keep large corporate entities in check, with increasing regulation to help level the wealth curve. To keep track of the myriad of projects and developments, the virtual intelligences of the ISA processed immense amounts of information and helped with data analysis and resource allocation.
Treasurer Hafia Isidro oversaw the expansive operations of the ISA's revitalization projects. She sat at her desk as she reviewed the data analysis from projects across the three systems of the Alliance. Materials were of little concern, as the ever-expanding drone fleets ferried raw materials in all systems for construction. She was satisfied at the current recycling rates of Earth and Antallos. Antallos' industrial capacity was expanding with native ISA and Earth companies investing in local subsidiaries and factory locations. Current projections put full-scale industrial fabricators on planet by the end of the year. Atmospheric scrubbing facilities were already underway, their prototypes on Earth already proven effective. This, combined with accelerated-growth flora projects looked to help curb the effects of greenhouse emissions on both planets helped prepare the worlds for the future. She looked at another analysis page, Earth's shipbuilding industry.
The progress on the Lockheed consortium's United-class JumpShip prototype was coming along nicely. Thanks to the expansion of the Chester W. Nimitz drydock, Earth's space elevator network progress, and breakthroughs in materials technology accelerated the timetable of its maiden voyage. She smiled. It had been a long time since Iago McGuire had competitors proper. MSI may have been first with the Kitsune-class, but even they had to return to the drawing board with the new technological discoveries from the Memory Cores. The United would be the first vessel that incorporated both ISA and Star League-spec tech in its hull. She switched pages.
Environmental preservation. Many countries and corporations on Earth balked at the notion of increased regulation to preserve their environment. It was only after the dissemination of ISA technology and aid did they come around. She knew full well the results of unchecked rampant industrialization. She brought up a holo image of the world of Leeds from her home universe. Bretonnian industrial concerns turned that world into a smoggy hell, with people reliant on either genetic modification or respirators to filter the rancid air. Average life expectancy was fifty-one standard years on-world, near half of the universal average. Centuries of data engrained in the ISA that no world under their purview would ever be subject to such conditions. People made the nation, not the other way around.
Her trawl through the endless data was interrupted by the flashing comms indicator on her holo display. She blinked and opened the channel.
"Councilor Glass." She greeted with a nod, "What can I do for you?"
"Hafia." Metzli Glass responded with a half-smile and a nod, "Busy?"
"Hardly, Metz. Just clearing through my daily briefing."
"Have you gotten to Columbus yet?" Glass asked.
"Just a minute." Isidro switched pages to the Columbus Station data report, "Facility and planet renaming to Lapu-Lapu, current personnel, requested materials…" She squinted, "Hold on, is this right?"
"It's one of the things I wanted to pass by you."
"Merlow is requesting official settlement expansion into the system…" She reviewed the proposed equipment and personnel request, "Accelerated resources request. Gods, he realizes just how expansive this equipment list is. After six months, population support should be ready for at least half a million people, scaling to a million within the year... Why does he want to expand our population base so quickly?"
Glass' image shrugged, "He said he saw an opportunity to present a bulwark against possible Clan incursion and give Earth a chance to breathe. Seven billion is a lot of people, and to give even a portion of them a chance to explore new worlds and realize their potential. I wanted to run this past you to get your opinion and recommendation."
Isidro paused and gave the matter some thought, "Well, of all the worlds we've surveyed, the current Columbus has the existing infrastructure that would make supporting a large population feasible. It already has an expansive lunar drydock that we could augment with proper shipbuilding facilities. The facility on-world has given us the ability to expand rather than construct a foundation. Strike Force Bretonnia has already submitted extensive studies on the planet and the system. Other than the fact that this system is already known by ComStar, I don't see any downsides. With the infrastructure in place, we could easily have the proposed population support size within the proposed timeframe. I say we approve the resources."
Glass nodded, "Very well. I will inform Councilor Ryan, Merlow, and the Department of Colonial Affairs. I don't know what the DCA will think of this, but at least they have a firm world to focus on."
"I'll approve the proposal immediately, with a few revisions. Strike Force Bretonnia will be fairly busy with what Merlow has in mind."
Conference Room, Earth Orbital Defense Headquarters
Low Earth Orbit
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
1 March 863 AS/2008/3023
Merlow was never one for ostentatious ceremony, but Glass insisted upon it. 'Adherence to ceremony helps create and reinforce tradition. Structure, Merlow. Structure.' That was what the Councilor said. Merlow accepted the logic despite his personal misgivings. He had represented the ISA to a myriad of organizations and entities over the past decades yet still felt that the trappings of state were always a bit too much for the military man. He and First Councilor Metzli Glass entered together, greeted by a native Earth officer. He had recently given authorization to allow members of the ISA's armed forces from Earth to wear the dress uniforms of their home countries. He noted the Chinese and Burmese soldiers squared one another up as he entered. It would take years for true integration, but a little inter-country rivalry never hurt.
They took their seats about the round table, marked by holo images of their names. Glass and Merlow conversed with one another as they waited for the rest of the delegates.
"Metz, what do you make of the invitation from the Combine?" Merlow asked the First Councilor.
"The good Colonel will have to put his best foot forward in the face of the Coordinator." Glass conceded, "It does help that he is ostensibly a well removed member of the Kurita line."
"Very true." Merlow took a sip of water from the glass that materialized before him, "This whole feudal bullshit reminds me of dealing with Kusari and Bretonnia before the exodus, just even more backwards."
"Consider that many of these worlds suffer from technological regression and lack of instantaneous communication. 'Bloodlines' encourage a kind of loyalty that some think transcends the enormity of space-time."
Merlow scoffed, "We both know how garbage that is. Families turn on one another all the time, especially if so distant."
Glass nodded, "That is absolute fact, but given what other options these nations have and who controls their major lines of communications…" They shrugged.
"It's the best they've got." He shook his head, "It's amazing what people fall back to. I suppose we're going to be dealing with this writ large, eh?"
"It's a relic of the Star League that near every major and minor house follows. Neofeudalism reigns supreme."
Councilor of Earth and President of the United States Jack Ryan entered the room with the Coalition of Sovereign Nations newly appointed Ambassador to the Draconis Combine Cui Tiankai. Formerly China's Ambassador to Japan, he was selected by the CSN and approved by the ISA to be their representative on their diplomatic mission to the Combine. They all hoped that his experience with Japan could translate to success with the ostensible descendent of that nation. The pair took their place at the table.
"Jack, Tiankai, good of you both to make it." Merlow greeted, "I hope your trip into orbit was uneventful."
"Cape Canaveral's facilities have exceeded all expectations." Ryan confirmed with a smile, "Extremely comfortable for something that ships you off-world in less than an hour."
"How 'bout you, Tiankai?" Merlow asked the Chinese Ambassador, "I understand that China recently completed its first space elevator in Jiuquan?"
"That is correct." Cui confirmed as he sat with a nod, "The technological assistance your personnel have provided has proven to be invaluable."
"We hope to further cooperation between the nations of Earth and the ISA." Glass said with a smile, "I'm glad to see the fruits of our friendship blossom."
The next to arrive were Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman, Colonel Chou Kurita, Minister of State Security Xu Yongyue, Director-General Toshiro Yanagi and Director of Central Intelligence Ed Foley. The international coalition of intelligence agencies had met over the past week to discuss the imminent diplomatic mission. Preparations were made, personnel were briefed, equipment and supplies reviewed and approved. The Chinese Ministry of State Security, the United States Central Intelligence Agency, and the Japanese Public Security Intelligence Agency took the lead in the intelligence brief and operational organization. In what was once considered unprecedented cooperation the United States provided as much background as possible in the BattleTech universe, the Chinese provided their expertise in their dealings with the Japanese, and the Japanese provided insight into the potential thought processes of a more feudal imperial Japan. The three intelligence professionals sat wordlessly, their desire to get the meeting underway palpable. Colonel Kurita, visibly uncomfortable, sat at his place between the Supreme Bashar and Director-General Yanagi.
Merlow leaned over with a smirk, "Out of your depth, Colonel?"
Kurita took a breath to collect himself, "Forgive me, Bashar. I am a field officer, I lead soldiers. I am no diplomat, nor am I a spy. 'Out of my depth' would be an understatement."
"Well, being personally summoned by the head of the Combine is quite the request." Glass remarked, "It's not every day that a head of state asks for you sight unseen."
"I've been reading and rereading all of the material Ambassador Taro gave me." Kurita let out an exasperated sigh, "That, on top of the intelligence brief and mission preparation…"
"A lot of information in a very short amount of time." Merlow finished the statement, "Ah, I believe it's time to begin."
Councilor Glass' section of the table rose to a standing height and transformed into a podium. The room fell to silence, the guards stepped outside, and they began.
"Everyone, thank you for all your work leading up to this momentous occasion. This marks the first time for both Earth and the Independent Systems Alliance to formally send a diplomatic mission to another sovereign nation in the galaxy. We reach forth to those searching for friendship with an open hand ready to grasp those who want and need help. Yet, we all know that there are always those in the shadows, lurking to take advantage. We all have understood this for centuries: every diplomatic mission is also an intelligence operation. To do less is to invite disaster."
Glass took a sip of water, paused for a moment, and surveyed the room, "The Draconis Combine approached Colonel Chou Kurita in February of last year. The letter given to him requested a personal audience between himself and head of state of the Combine Coordinator Takashi Kurita. This is an opportunity for us not only to formalize relations between us and the Combine, but for us to gain insight into the dealings of a major house and how the game is played on this galactic stage. Optimally, we would send out a diplomatic mission to each nation we are in contact with currently, but this invitation accelerated our timetable. I now pass this meeting to Supreme Bashar Robert Merlow." They took their seat as their position lowered and the Supreme Bashar's raised.
"Thank you, First Councilor." Merlow nodded to Glass as he stood, "Like any diplomatic mission, we are not sending people out into the unknown without a formal military presence. Standard operating procedure calls for a company of military force to deployed in the main Embassy. Now, I understand that may look like overkill to all of you. Consider the event of an embassy siege. Some of your nations are more familiar with this kind of event than others. We have had more than a few instances of this over the years. In order to execute an emergency evacuation procedure while concurrently destroying the facility completely, a company is required. This mission will include two platoons of mechanized infantry, an armor platoon, and a special operations platoon. We have determined that BattleMech deployment unnecessary. Urban combat is better suited to a more nimble force, and we can certainly provide that. Vessels will include the ISV Kitsune, Malakitona State Industries first civilian vessel produced in universe to transport our people to the Luthien System. For transport on-world, we will provide Balisets. The Kitsune will also have a squadron of aerospace craft in the event of hostile incursion against us en route or if things get really messy in Luthien."
Ryan cleared his throat, "That's a hell of a lot of firepower. Are we expecting trouble?"
Merlow shook his head, "We hope for the best and prepare for the worst, Ryan. The sourcebooks indicate supreme volatility in the Inner Sphere, and we would be remiss to ignore the possibility of an attempt to seize our assets and forcibly gain an edge against us and the rest of the Inner Sphere. We cannot and will not allow this to happen. The mission will also have access to fabricators on board the Kitsune, so anything you need will be available to you. Command of the military company will fall to Colonel Kurita during his time on world, then rotate to Fleet Captain Petra Xaver afterwards. For the intelligence side of things, I cede the floor to Marcus." Merlow sat, the podium followed him down.
Scarman rose with his podium, "Thanks, Merlow. Now, our intelligence objectives on Luthien are many-fold. We seek to gain access to ComStar's HPG there, as Antallos is much less mature and won't have the data that an HPG station in an Inner Sphere capitol world would. We want to gain insight into the inner workings of the Draconis Combine. While the sourcebooks are nice, nothing beats real intel. On that front, we want to build a current database on the major players in the Combine. We want to establish a fully-fledged intelligence network on world that will help us in determining Combine actions and intent all over the Sphere. We know we'll be watched by at least the Internal Security Force and the Order of the Five Pillars. The other major houses will probably watch us on Luthien as well. It will be a veritable alphabet soup, but the Triple-S office within our Luthien Embassy and on board the Kitsune will keep a watchful eye on all parties involved. Regarding the construction of the Embassy itself, an international team convened over the past few months and submitted a final design which was approved last week during our conference. Construction will be conducted as we always do, our drones, and materials will be prepared on the Kitsune and deployed as the project proceeds. It was agreed that under no circumstances does anyone step foot within the construction site without supervision. I personally don't want to give them a chance to plant surveillance equipment unless we want them to. I think that hits all the major points I wanted to. I'll pass this off to the diplomatic side. Ambassador Cui?" Scarman sat with a bow.
"I appreciate it, Bashar Scarman." Cui rose and cleared his throat, "Similar to my colleagues in intelligence, we have many diplomatic objectives to achieve on Luthien. My staff and I seek to establish formal relations with the Draconis Combine, facilitate trade, foster a positive image of the Independent Systems Alliance with the galaxy at large, and garner favor with elements of the Combine. Hard currency and what they call 'LosTech' are our best bargaining chips. If we can make inroads and become friendly with this neighbor, it will prove beneficial in future endeavors, especially if Operation Revival and Operation Scorpion come to pass. We will also seek to gain more intimate knowledge of their Warlords, as they may prove to be either a boon or a hindrance depending on their profiles. Ambassador Taro on Antallos has expressed interest in purchasing more plugsuits from us, and that is a relationship we intend to foster. Mitsubishi Heavy Industries has purchased factory space in Shanghai, and in the spirit of cooperation and despite the previously strained history between our nations we are moving forward in production."
"I forgot how recent World War Two is for all of you." Merlow stated with a nod, "I'm glad to know that progress is being made."
"The wounds inflicted run deep." Yanagi conceded, "Imperial Japan had committed grievous crimes against the rest of the world."
"Very true, Director-General." Cui agreed, "There are companies all over the world looking to take advantage of our position as an industrial leader to gain market share all over the Inner Sphere. We will ensure that Luthien is our first economic step into the major houses and from there the rest of the Inner Sphere. The inroads made by John Deere have already borne fruit, and we will reap what we have sown on Luthien."
Command Information Center
"Today's the day." General Mathews looked at the holo image of the globe, "Jesus, we have a fleet."
The past year had been spent training Earth born crews on the vessels brought in by the ISA Navy. The ISA sent the Corrino-class Dreadnaught Shaddam and the Harkonnen-class Cruisers Xavier, Ulf and Katarina. These vessels, while their outer hulls were of an older design from before the exodus, they were all completely up to date with ISA standard technology. Fleet Captain Mai Tokhia and her staff were sent with the vessels to train Naval and Air Force personnel from all over the world. It was a grueling curriculum full of new terms, technology, and brand-new concepts. Naval gunnery courses were reintroduced to sailors used to missiles and torpedoes. Orbital mechanics and variable gravity had to be considered in fire solutions. Electronic countermeasure and counter-countermeasure techniques were instilled in Earth's sailors, airmen, and officers. Though general tactics and strategic operations were similar, much of the minutiae of combat in a truly three-dimensional battlefield were still somewhat foreign. Submariners found the concepts easier to grasp, as underwater warfare reflected the realities of space combat just with clearer sensors. Earth's science fiction of 'visual identification' was quickly dashed, as the distances involved in standard engagements made conventional cameras impractical for combat identification in most circumstances. Electronic warfare methods, honed over centuries of warfare and technological progress, were introduced to Earth's combatants.
Earth, first secured by a hybrid nuclear/orbital defense network commanded by the Earth Defense Orbital Headquarters, now had its own way to project power among the stars. Months into the training regimen, the ISA sent twelve Sadaukar-class Destroyers to fill out the rest of the fleet as the first officers and crewmen were deemed ready for command. Simulations proceeded to fleet training in their real ships against other strike groups in the ISA. The first few engagements were a one-sided affair, as the battle-hardened native fleets consistently outmaneuvered and outfought their Earthborn siblings. From these early war game defeats came valuable lessons in the way of space combat. Fleet Captain Tokiha drilled her trainees in the gaps in their knowledge. Later war game engagements showed the ISA that their training was effective. Their effectiveness in engagements grew with each exercise, the gap between the established strike groups and what was christened Strike Group Sol closed tighter and tighter.
The year of training and proper integration into the ISA Navy came to its conclusion today as newly appointed Bashar Aleksandr Vitko, former Admiral of the Russian Navy, was granted command of Strike Group Sol. He and his appointed executive officer Mai Tokhia were on board the flagship ISV Shaddam to see the strike group on its maiden voyage as a formal part of the ISA Navy. Mathews looked on in awe as the holographic image of the sixteen vessels departed from Earth's orbit into the rest of the solar system.
"The Shaddam is on course for Mars, then they're gonna exercise their in-system jump capabilities." Captain Toft reported, "I see that Bashar Vitko took Mai's advice. Always prudent to do a shakedown run before you get too far out of port."
"I have to ask, Captain," Mathews began, turning away from the central holo-display, "the resources the ISA possess seem incredibly deep. How did you manage to maintain such a store of war material?"
"Through great hardship and adversity." Toft nodded sagely, "The austerity measures were… extraordinary to say the least. Many of our vessels were put into cold storage as keeping them active would have stretched our resource gathering capacity beyond what our fleets could maintain."
"In the 'pocket universe,' if memory serves." Mathews scoffed, "Hard to imagine people such as yours with the capability of maintaining an artificial universe could have a resource issue."
"Energy is a constant necessity no matter the era, General. We've lost much since our exodus. We just managed to hold onto our technology and history. Just." She stared a moment into the three-dimensional pixels, lost in memory. She shook her head, refocused, "Anyways, the manufactory on station is near completion and the first order of business is to assist the continued efforts of the construction of the Luna Colony."
"How is the progress on our Lunar base?"
"With everything on our plate, it's actually progressing well. First stationary defenses are online and the first personnel rotation are set to arrive within a couple months."
"We really rely on automation to lay the foundation, huh?" Mathews noted.
"You've seen why, General. Better to establish a foothold without risking lives than putting our people on the line unnecessarily."
"Understandable. It just makes me slightly uncomfortable not to have people on the ground and rely completely on, what do y'all call it, VIs?"
"Yes. Our reliance on them emphasizes our focus on ECM and ECCM in combat. It's disconcerting to have automated assistance turn on you, as we learned over the centuries."
"Makes sense. Oh, I've been meaning to ask you, how have the doctors been settling in on the RnD wing?"
Toft smirked, "Rather well. I think their latest project will prove to be a real shift in power, so to speak."
Research and Development Center
Doctor Staci Garnier reviewed the schematics for the Dyson Sphere construct. There had been working theories on the feasibility of such a structure for centuries and the technology to create such a thing had been available to the people of the ISA for the past century. Unfortunately for them, their exodus and subsequent nomadic wandering from universe to universe had put such plans on indefinite hold. With their recent resettlement and the energy requirements of both Earth and Cradle it was decided to begin the process of Dyson Sphere construction in both systems. The one in Sanctuary was already underway with a production base under construction on Sanctuary I. The plan was simple: create a swarm of mirrors around the star and focus the energy into a series of collection stations and transmit that energy to stations around the system. Materials and construction operations would be centralized on the closest planet and be largely automated with a few human overseers. The process of assembling the swarm would disassemble the nearest planet with some of the materials dedicated to the construction of a series of redundant overseer stations. These stations would also operate as jump denial stations to ensure that no vessels could jump close to the star.
Prototype mirrors were tested on Sanctuary I with experimental material hybrids synthesized with Star League and ISA methods. Original schematics from the nations that created the ISA decades ago called for a very flimsy, light mirror with rudimentary control to focus to collection sites. With the discovery of the Star League Memory Cores, more robust construction methods were unlocked without increasing mass or material requirements. A small network of orbital mirrors were deployed on Sanctuary I to power the production base and helped the drone fleet assigned to the world begin the process of building all the required infrastructure to disassemble the planet for the materials needed.
Garnier knew that if this project succeeded, then energy requirements for an entire system would be fulfilled with ease. The potential of such a possibility could not be ignored, and she had shipped the proposal to the head of the Treasury and Materials Administration for clearance to proceed in the Sol system. She was sure that the proposal would have legs given the progress in Sanctuary. The disassembly of the planet of Mercury would be a small price to pay for literal unlimited energy for an entire solar system.
She smiled and minimized the proposal. She issued a mental command and sent a summons to the head of her terraformation department on station. She then hit a button on her desk and materialized a cup of mint tea. She figured she may as well relax a few minutes before she resumed her duties. It was important to revel in moments of respite when ensuring civilization. The past decades taught her patience and when to apply it. When adversity seemed insurmountable, it was the moments of quiet that the breakthroughs came.
The head of the Terraformation Department entered her office and promptly sat down. She opened an eye and glanced at them. It was obvious that they were working hard and were more than a little annoyed that she pulled them away from their project.
"Doctor Scordato," she greeted, opening both eyes, and tipping her cup to them, "I understand you are well underway in the efforts to stabilize Earth's atmosphere and repair the damage done on Antallos."
They looked her in the eyes, took a steadying breath, and replied, "Yes, Doctor Garnier. The efforts in the Amazon are our primary concern on Earth. The reseeding process has employed thousands and their rapid maturation has already seen a marked effect on greenhouse levels. Antallos is a very different kettle of fish, as we've had to rely on traditional atmospheric scrubbers in key locations. We're expanding the scrubber network as more locations are deemed safe."
"Your work has been exemplary, and thus I think your personal efforts should be refocused on a new project."
Scordato was confused, "Forgive me, Doctor, but our work on Earth and Antallos aren't even close to complete. It seems more than a little premature to-"
"Now, I know you want to see these projects through to the end, and I'm not saying that you won't be advised on their progress, but those higher want to accelerate the timetable for a new settlement on what will be called Lapu-Lapu."
"Oh. That seems… a bit premature."
"The Basharate and the Council are in agreement on expansion. You need to ensure that Lapu-Lapu is optimal for proper settlement, and that's about it. From what we have from the system, it already looks fantastic, but more in-depth preparation is necessary to move forward."
They sighed, "Of course. Is there anything else, Doctor Garnier?"
She closed her eyes in thought, "Not at the moment. Be ready to head out to Lapu-Lapu soon. An exact date will be transmitted to you as soon as it is established."
"Of course. I'll take my leave now, Doctor." Scordato rose, delivered a quiet bow, and left her office with haste.
Simulation Farm
First Combined Army Headquarters
Antallos System, Independent Systems Alliance Provisional Space
10 March 863 AS/2008/3023
It had been two hours. Two hours since contact with the enemy. As a former Clansman, Captain Brox was literally born and bred to be in the harness of a 'mech. Unfortunately, this situation was beyond frustrating. He wanted to smash his fist into something, someone, preferably the commander in charge of the enemy. His company, Bravo Company of the First Foreign Legion Battalion, moved as the tip of the spear through enemy territory. It was a mountainous, rocky terrain which slowed the advance of his Battlemasters to a crawl. Beyond the mountains was the objective, a city that he and his people were tasked to capture.
The enemy didn't make that easy. There were mines, traps, and other nasty explosives on all passes that could accommodate large 'mechs. A hot drop was ruled out as the dense concentration of anti-aerospace weapons and a large contingent of aerospace fighters made the prospect much more dangerous than the mission planners wanted to risk. Coverage and support from their own aerospace assets was unreliable, as they had to contend with their counterparts in the sky. Orbital weapons coverage was not available as they had just made planetfall and their rapid deployment ahead of the line was out of range of the meager orbital platform network. Drone coverage was good, but none of them were armed so there would be no death to rain from the skies today.
They had an annoying job, annoying to Brox. Bravo Company had to accompany an attached mechanized sapper platoon with mechanized infantry support. The terrain barely allowed for Bravo Company to move and bring the full force of their weaponry to bear. Their forced formation made the main railgun of their rearmost 'mech essentially useless. The enemy had taken advantage of this with constant hit-and-run attacks. The shields of all friendlies in this element had been overloaded and the armor status was already looking questionable. There was an element of enemy 'mechs out there: A Shadow Hawk lead by Wasps, all standard Inner Sphere spec. Comparably, their IFVs and Battlemasters would make short work of them in an open engagement. Unfortunately for Bravo Company, the enemy wasn't giving them the chance. The Shadow Hawk had led a series of attacks to whittle them down and delay their advance. Brox had ordered his company through in an attempt to force his way to the objective, but the nimbler enemy force had kept ahead of them. They had made excellent use of their jump capability, and his company had no access to the new Kartikeyas to level the mobility advantage. Time and again, the Shadow Hawk and its compatriots had been effective in tying him down in exchange for only one Wasp.
Another Wasp appeared on his copilot's information display. A moment later it popped out from behind a ridge and fired its weapon compliment at his lead 'mech. Lasers and missiles lashed at the armor of the Battlemaster. It attracted the attention of the entirety of his lead elements, which turned and unleashed withering fire at the interloper. All their firepower flew over the ridge or carved into the ground as the Wasp disappeared behind its cover. A second later, a larger volley of missiles and lasers came down from the opposite ridge and slammed into that 'mech again and mangled the left leg of the mighty Battlemaster. The eighty-five-ton machine fell in an inglorious cloud of dust and metal. As soon as the entirety of the unit had shifted their focus, the interlopers has disappeared behind the ridge and disappeared off their sensors. Brox sighed. Their unit had been ground to a halt.
First Lieutenant Jankowicz and his copilot were in the downed Battlemaster, the lead platoon to screen the more vulnerable vehicles. He had come into his own as the leader of Second Platoon and did his job at the head of the formation. His platoon set up a defensive perimeter as the mechanized infantry element set about to extract Jankowicz and his copilot. With the advance halted and the company busy, the enemy struck again. Brox's HUD alerted him of incoming missiles as the IFV turrets before him swung into overdrive to shoot down as many as they could before they connected with them and their charges. To everyone's surprise, the missiles exploded meters above them, blanketing the entire element in a dense visual and infrared smoke.
Brox willed his Battlemaster forward, "First Platoon, watch the ridges! Second Platoon move out of the smoke. We need to respond to the enemy's-" His copilot pinged a cluster of contacts cresting both ridges. Without a word, he loosed a missile barrage on the left ridge to discourage the inevitable attack. He shifted to the right, ready to unleash his railgun upon what he assumed were incoming Wasps. One of the predicted light 'mechs peeked over the ridge. Brox greeted it with a slug from his railgun. A mass of specially engineered metal accelerated to a fraction of the speed of light slammed into the center of the unfortunate 'mech, annihilating the core in a shower of metal and flame. Two more appeared beside it and unleashed a barrage on the smoked-out mess in front of him. Lasers and missiles raked at the downed Battlemaster and the infantry that attempted to pull Jankowicz out of the fire. A pair of Vernius IFVs, weakened from the constant fighting, were overwhelmed and disabled, their wheels and turrets knocked out by the Wasp's barrage.
"Damnit!" Brox cursed as he responded in kind, joined by two of his platoon. Again, the remaining Wasps disappeared behind the ridge before they could be erased by the vast power of the assault 'mechs. He looked at the smoky mess before him, the pyre that claimed at least a squad of infantry that tried to extract his immediate subordinate. Not only did they claim the lives of some of his charges, they completely halted his advance. The remaining mechanized infantry pulled double-time and extracted Jankowicz and his copilot in a record ten minutes. Those minutes were tense, as another attack could come at any moment. Brox set his 'mech to auto-scan, his eyes looked for any sign of movement along the ridges while his copilot kept her eyes glued to the information cluster for any indication of possible retaliation.
"We've got them." Reported the officer in charge of the mechanized infantry platoon, "Charges set on all disabled hardware. Prepared to blast on your order, over."
"Confirmed, Lieutenant." Brox acknowledged, "Execute on your own time. We'll advance as soon as it's clear. Over and out."
Twenty minutes had passed since the last engagement. In what felt like a constant running battle, this respite was suspicious. He checked his HUD. There was nothing on the scope. No pings from his copilot or the rest of his company. Despite this, something was terribly wrong.
The three broken husks of machinery were blasted away from the narrow valley floor, the explosion rung out throughout the narrow ravine. Before Bravo Company and their softer-skinned charges could move ahead, another series of explosions resonated from above. He swung his torso to face the threat, his cockpit rocked by the sheer force of the blasts. He was greeted by the sight of hundreds of tons of rock and dirt barreling downhill, the silhouette of the Shadow Hawk stood triumphant behind it. In a bout of focus, he squeezed his triggers and fired everything his doomed Battlemaster had at the retreating form before he and his platoon were buried in a makeshift grave. His cockpit monitors filled with static, then were replaced by red text on the blank black monitors.
Critical Mission Failure.
"By the Father, what the hell was that!?" Brox exclaimed in his simulation pod.
"Pretty obvious." Major Tony Dansel, Foreign Legion Battalion CO's voice stated matter-of-factly over comms, "Demo charges detonated to create one hell of a rockslide. Make your way to the debriefing. We'll cover it all there."
"They were like goddamn mosquitos, then buried us…" Jankowicz muttered over comms, "Who in the hell led them?"
Brox took a breath to steady himself, "I'm sure we will find out."
Simulation Farm Briefing Room
The air was filled with a low din as the members of the First Foreign Legion Battalion sat in their seats of the tiered lecture hall-like room and awaited their debriefing. The air was cool, but the low noise made the atmosphere seem unusually charged. This was the first exercise in a long while where it felt like the odds were continually stacked against them. Not since the red force training on Earth were the forces of the ISA so soundly defeated in simulated battle. Brox paid that fact no mind. Victory may have been very much valued among the Clans, but there was always something to be learned in defeat. Even so, defeat did not suit his Clan-borne mentality. He wanted a proper rematch with the Shadow Hawk pilot, this time on flat ground. Despite all the exercises and the recency of major combat operations, Brox had not had the opportunity of long engagements. The ISA's combined arms methodology and absolute dominance of aerospace did not allow him to dispatch his enemies in the manner he had been trained. The only opportunity he had to indulge was in personal simulations. While they didn't compare with the thrill of real battle it was still quite fun.
In his last simulation he had loaded a program where faced off against an opponent with equivalent military power to the ISA. It was apparently taken from the last major war the nation had participated in against a foe called 'The Brotherhood.' They employed a novel concept: a kind of orbital bombardment that inserted infantry in what looked to him as Elemental suits in armored pods directly on to the surface. The presence of such suits in the database troubled him. How did distinctly Clan technology fall into the hands of another power? Were there those in the Scientist Caste that had abandoned their duty to their Clans and had gone rogue? He pushed the thought away and refocused on the novelty of such a style of battle. Elementals were a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. When they were deployed against him in the simulation, it took him by surprise. They had nearly overcome him if not for the experience he had in his former sibko. He withdrew his tablet computer and made a few notes about Elemental combat. Maybe they would be useful in future battles.
As he finished jotting down his thoughts, the side door opened. Major Tony Dansel, commanding officer of the First Foreign Legion Battalion, entered with a clipboard and laptop tucked under his arm.
"Atten-hut!" The Foreign Legion lept to their feet at the command of Master Sergeant Dania Jasper. Dansel gave her a nod and a smirk.
"As you were." Dansel placed his laptop on the podium and glanced over his clipboard, "Alright everyone, before we begin the AAR on the latest disaster I fed you I have some news from higher. After the latest round of talks with the rest of the city-states, our Ambassador Smith was able to convince over half of the city-states to agree to the terms of integration. Unfortunately, that left the rest out in the cold. We don't know if they'll go hostile, but if they do we'll be ready. That's why we're gonna be drilling for deep deployments with more cross-training with the navy people. So be ready for that."
He opened his laptop and hit the enter key. In the center of the room a holographic display of the previously simulated battlefield flared to life.
"Now, that last sim ran you through the POV of a Taurian-sponsored merc unit looking to raid a city on a planet known as Duncanshire. For those of you unaware, that's a world in the Magistracy of Canopus."
Brox looked on thoughtfully as Jankowicz raised his hand.
"OPFOR were Magistracy?" he asked.
Dansel pointed at the Lieutenant with a grin, "Correctamundo, Lieutenant. The Magistracy Armed Forces have a limited number of 'mechs, so they fill the gaps with mercs and they fight dirty as you saw today." The holo-image zoomed into the valley which replayed when half of Bravo Company and their mechanized infantry and engineers were given an unceremonious burial under countless tons of rock and dirt, "So, what did you do wrong?"
"We should have called for air support and advanced more quickly through the valley" responded Jankowicz, "We rule the skies, and then we wouldn't have been too bogged down and we would have been able to blitz through the X."
"Then you would have been cut down even faster." A voice cut through from the top of the room. Everyone in the room shifted their attention and searched for the voice. She leaned against the rear wall, arms folded, dressed in a flattering blue uniform clearly not ISA issue, "If your lance had been separated from the rest of your company, then the entirety of your lance would have been disabled or destroyed with little to no chance of rescue. Your aerospace assets were tangled up in air superiority missions and wouldn't have been able to provide any kind of real support."
"Commander McFarland, thank you for joining us." Dansel directed a nod toward her, "She was the pilot of that Shadow Hawk in the exercise. She approached Ambassador Smith seeking to keep her skills sharp, and in the spirit of cooperation, not to mention the recent agreements between our two nations, he sent her our way."
McFarland made her way down the shallow steps to the holo image, seeming to glide effortlessly in a hypnotizing gait. The entire room kept their eyes glued on her, entranced by what native ISA folks suspected was the result of an ancient genetic engineering program. When she reached the bottom, she pointed further down the valley.
"You see, we prepared multiple positions with armor and infantry ready to rain hellfire into the valley, acting as spotters for the LRM carriers I had. We took advantage of your rapid deployment and rudimentary knowledge of the terrain to defend in depth, slow you down enough to allow me to reinforce the infantry scouts with armor and hammer you lot before you reached the city. The rock avalanche was lucky, but not altogether unplanned. We knew the terrain there was more brittle and would make for a better ambush zone. Burying half your company was simply icing on the cake."
Dansel cleared his throat, "The decision to speed up and simply push instead resulted in what you saw today, Janckowicz. Now, could you have pushed faster? Sure. The Battlemasters could just keep up with the Vernius IFVs going at a good speed. The problem with that is inevitably the advance would have become strung out and would have allowed the armor and infantry to really inflict some hurt. Instead, you should've slowed the advance and allowed the engineers to do what they're trained for. You wouldn't've been buried, and you could've continued to grind down the lighter 'mechs. While the Commander here was inflicting damage, she was taking decent losses in return. In order to continue to delay you, she would have had to commit her 'mech reserves."
"Which I wouldn't have done. I had to carefully manage my 'mech resources for later fighting in the city." McFarland shrugged, "I also provoked you on a psychological level. Assault 'mechs have a tendency to inflate the egos of those piloting them. Heavier weapons and armor make you think that you're nigh invincible, especially with the upgrades afforded to you ISA people."
"So, she took advantage of the terrain and pecked you to death. She provoked the exact response she wanted, a rash advance, and lured you into a kill box. Just like that, boom. Half of Bravo Company disappeared into the ground and the advance to the city was halted."
The rest of the AAR was spent on individual performance review. Brox tuned out as he gazed on the Commander and the holo image. The way the ISA conducted war was so foreign to Clan and Inner Sphere mentalities, but it was one to admire even if paradoxical. If armed conflict was ever declared, it was not bound by formalities or bids. They fought to completely subjugate their foe and shatter their capacity to fight as quickly as possible. Yet, after battle was won, they did not gloat over their opponents through torture or humiliation. He had seen time and time again that his new comrades would grant the defeated medical care, respect, and humanity unseen in his career as a mercenary.
"Alright, everyone," Dansel declared, "that's it. Any more questions? No? Dismissed."
The Foreign Legion rose to their feet and made their way out of the briefing room, discussing amongst themselves as they left. Brox remained behind and sauntered to podium where Dansel spoke to McFarland. He maintained a respectful distance awaiting the conclusion of their discussion.
"Commander," Dansel began delicately, "I know you've probably received a request from Smith's office about this, but I know our eggheads really want to get a look at your Atlas. Would you consider letting some of our folks poke around your hundred-ton behemoth before and after a live exercise?"
McFarland gave the question some thought before she responded, "I will certainly give it some thought. As soon as I can get a response from Canopus, I will let Ambassador Smith know. After the UralVagonZavod offer of their first export heavy 'mechs, I'm sure the home office will listen."
"Brox." Dansel casually called to the former Clanner as if prescient to the fact he'd stick around, "You any good with a hundred-tonner?"
Brox thought back to a different time, one much happier and more ignorant. He had taken the controls of a Kodiak during his upbringing in Clan Ghost Bear as each mechwarrior had to test every model in the Clan inventory for what fit him best. He found the most compatibility with the lighter Timber Wolf, but he could well recall his time in the Kodiak. The firepower brought to the fore, the sheer presence of such an extension of the warrior spirit. An Inner Sphere Atlas couldn't hold a flicker of flame to the venerable Ghost Bear totem 'mech, but the principles were the same: One was the eye of the battle, and Great Father help anyone caught in the crosshairs.
"I'm adequate, Major." Brox responded after the reminiscence, his silky rebuilt vocal cords took McFarland by surprise.
"Fantastic." Dansel clapped his hands, "Commander, please let me know if we're clear to poke around in your Atlas at some point. Brox, be ready to pilot that behemoth as soon as we get the word."
"Would it be possible to get some time in with the Atlas before official word comes in, Commander?" Brox asked the Canopian Ambassador.
She thought a moment, "Considering the Embassy is done, my only company within is a secretary I've hired and Doctor Richard who keeps himself busy at the local hospital. Suffice it to say, I have quite a bit of free time. My diplomatic duties are few and far between as of late, and I certainly wouldn't mind an exercise or two in my Atlas. Major, if you could send the Embassy a good time to do a run with my Atlas I would appreciate it. Oh, Captain Brox, if I could get your contact info with that communique that would be handy." She gave Brox a small nod, exchanged salutes with Dansel, and left the room the way she came with a grace seeming unfit for a MechWarrior.
Brox watched the Commander-Ambassador leave with fascination. Dansel stood beside him, unabashedly enjoyed the view. He nudged the former Clanner with an elbow.
"Have fun, Brox." He said with a conspiratorial smile, "Oh, and try not to cause an international incident. She is an Ambassador after all."
ISV Kitsune
Malakitona State Industries Orbital Drydock 1
Sanctuary System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
15 March 863 AS/2008/3023
The timeline was rushed. The Kitsune was set to arrive a week ago to undergo the refits necessary to ferry the diplomatic mission from Cradle to Luthien. Unfortunately, the Department of Colonial Affairs had another world to survey for potential habitation that delayed the ISA's only natively designed interstellar civilian vessel. They wanted to impress upon the Draconis Combine and the rest of the Inner Sphere that they were more than capable and that proverbial first impression had to include the Kitsune. Unfortunately, the engineers in charge of the conversion from exploration to diplomatic vessel ran into issues from both the DCA team's modifications and the first-generation nature of the ship. The disassembly process was projected to take a couple days longer as the extensive jerry-rigging from the scientists had made a mess of some of the modules. They also couldn't simply extract them as designed, as some had been patched directly into bridge controls. The delicate nature of some of this equipment necessitated more care, so the disassembly timeline had to be extended.
The replacement modules manufactured for the mission (staterooms, hangers, vehicle storage bays, etc.) also had some issues. The sizing of each module compartment was not quite uniform, as the vessel was somewhat rushed. This required the modules to be resized when it was measured upon the Kitsune's return. Some compartments were up to a meter larger or smaller than the specifications of the vessel had stated. This required extensive modification to the modules themselves which begun as soon at the vessel had been examined that day. They cursed the oversights from rushing the ship into service. The Kitsune was already slated to be refitted as soon as MSI completed her sister-ships the Amaguq and Mbeku. Unfortunately for the engineers, these ships were still under construction, so they had to make do with the imperfections of the Kitsune.
Fortunately, all the requisite equipment was ready for the mission: Ix tanks; Vernius IFVs; Fedaykin aerospace fighters; automated drones; prefabricated building materials; the list went on. The mission planners had the forethought not to preload the modules themselves in case of such incompatibility. That would help save some time, but the ship was scheduled to depart from Cradle in a week's time and they did not want news of any delays. Even with the tireless efforts of the ISA's construction drones, it was going to be tight whether or not they could reach their deadline.
Fleet Captain Petra Xaver shook her head on the bridge of the ship as she sat in the command chair. She would be in overall command of the military forces on station and was well aware of the challenges the engineers had before them. She had to remind the brass on world that the Kitsune was still an experimental ship no matter its capability so far. Sometimes the Basharate bought too far into their belief of absolute technological superiority. There were still limits to what could be done in a given timeframe.
She looked over the module and passenger manifests on a holo display before her eyes. There would be hundreds of people headed in the hearts of the Draconis Combine with her and the military contingent assigned to the ship as the only obvious bulwark against armed threat. It was not a scenario unfamiliar to her. Her last command had her at the helm of the ISV Dimitri, a Harkonnen-class cruiser, during the height of the war with the Brotherhood. She led numerous strikes against Brotherhood naval strongpoints and dislodged key strategic threats to allow proper strike groups to pass through unscathed. Though the war was decades in the past, the memories were as fresh as yesterday. Ambushed on a Baliset on the way to the Dimitri, forced to command a maintenance crew with no ground experience against hardened infiltration forces hellbent on her death. She shook the thought from her mind as a lift door opened behind her.
"Petra," the voice greeted, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Half a smirk crept across her face as she rotated her chair to face them, "Fleet Captain Gründer, how good of you to arrive."
The Triple-S officer offered her a half-hearted salute, "All part of the job. You know, have to sweep the ship for bugs, do the usual security checks with everyone set to board the vessel, etcetera. The lack of implants from the Earth folks makes the job take longer than I'd like, but I'm sure they'll get on board eventually."
"Literally and figuratively, Hayder?" Xaver asked the career spook.
"Well, I think the 'figurative' part will take some convincing." Gründer responded with a shrug, "I know we have a short list of folks to take the plunge into full-on biomechanical integration, but the advantages are just too large to ignore. They'll see the light soon enough."
"Anyways," she rotated her chair to face the rest of the bridge, "what do you make of the Kitsune?" she asked.
"The word 'ostentatious' comes to mind." Gründer noted as their eyes scanned the rest of the bridge, "Instead of the pure lines of utilitarian grace, we have wood paneling and… is this microfiber carpet?"
"Yes, it is." Xaver responded with a smiling facepalm, "Gods, you'd think this was one of those bridges from an old sci-fi holo-sim. At least it cleans itself. Standard nano-spec on all surfaces so we don't have to worry about dirt."
"Thank the Gods for that, eh?" they looked down at the tactical cluster, "We're fitted to the nines with weapons. Shit, we could take on a small patrol with all this."
"You know as well as I that space sucks and more guns is better than no guns."
"Damn straight." Gründer said with a grin, "The only real faith in the vacuum is in science, engineering, and applied firepower. The only unexplainable phenomena out there is stuff we haven't delved into deep enough yet."
"Far too true." She dismissed the manifest holo before her, "So, you're obviously not just here to sweep the bridge. What did you want to discuss?"
"You're aware of the feudal quagmire we're stepping foot into, correct?" they asked as they leaned against the inactive tactical cluster.
"Of course."
"How aware are you of the political situation?"
"I'm aware of the source material and the corresponding intelligence we have to verify it. The FedCom Accords have been official for the past three years, and the Combine is ironing out the details of the Kapteyn Accords with the Free Worlds League and the Capellan Confederation. At least, we're fairly sure the Accords are underway. We won't know until we arrive on Luthien itself."
"Good to see you've kept synced on the scenario. Now what do you think is the likely outcome when Chou meets with the Coordinator?" Gründer asked.
"He's gonna try to sway his 'cousin' into siding with the Combine. He has to know that Chou has no political authority, right?"
"In a sense, the good Colonel is a second ambassador, one that can communicate directly to the ear of the most powerful figure in the Draconis Combine. While he may hold no official diplomatic power, there will be an attempt to woo us into their camp."
"Not a snowball's chance in hell that'll happen. The Basharate would sooner pave a planet smooth than let us get entangled with this petty nonsense."
"Quite right," they chuckled, "but that still won't stop him."
"Both the Civilian Council and the Basharate are quite adamant about staying out the affairs of the 'great houses' of the Inner Sphere, at least when it comes to declaring any formal allegiance."
"Right again, my friend." Gründer rubbed their hands together, "Now, when it comes to our opposites in the Internal Security Force and the Order of the Five Pillars, how do you think we fare?"
"In what sense?"
"Combat capability."
Xaver had to think for a moment, "I honestly don't know. Unlike the rank-and-file Mustered Soldiery, we're talking about real operators. I'd bet on our folks any day of the week, but we're on their turf. Our people are enhanced in ways the Inner Sphere has never seen before, but we're also gonna be significantly outnumbered… Wait, why are you asking?"
"Just in case. I have a feeling about this mission. Something's off…"
Coalition of Sovereign Nations Headquarters
New York City, United States of America
Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space
20 March 2008/863 AS/3023
ISA Secretary of the States Iliana Heinrike listened to the arguments of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, Hamas, and Israel. After the invasion of Earth three years prior and the subsequent conflicts afterward, this embattled region had achieved an uneasy peace. The circumstances of alien invaders and Israel's deployment of forces in defense of Mecca had helped cool off rising tensions, but the fundamental issues behind their conflict remained. The issue of the day was the repatriation of Palestinian people to homes where they were forcibly removed by Israel years prior. Palestinian living space had been systematically curtailed and culminated in the defacto ongoing siege of the Gaza strip. Millions of civilians were essentially prisoners in a fenced off strip of earth already considered to be overcrowded.
The ISA, determined to make diplomatic headway in one of the most hotly contested regions on the planet, thought to bring together representatives from the three most prominent powers in the region. Hamas had recently won the elections in its two-thousand-six legislative election, but the PLO's experience in fighting the traditionally western-backed Israel made the ISA diplomatic corps invite them to the talks. Israel had made the argument that their expanding population forced them displace Palestinians to house their people. Hamas and the PLO argue that Israel had no legal right to evict Palestinians from their homes given it was not Israeli land to begin with. Iliana took a moment and interjected in a lull in the negotiations.
"This is a symptom of the end of World War Two, and one that hasn't been resolved at all since then." She began, "Given the passion and animosity on both sides, I know it won't be solved in a day. What the ISA can offer is an alternative that aims to help alleviate the population issues of the Gaza strip and the military occupation of the Palestinian people."
"Madam Secretary," the Israeli representative was quite offended, "our military is not occupying Gaza, it is simply-"
"I am not one to mince words, Ambassador." Heinrike shot a glare at him, "When you control nearly all passage into a place, build a wall, control the utilities, and your armed forces are the only ones allowed passage? That is an occupation, plain and simple. What Gaza and the West Bank needs is space, independence from Israeli utilities, and a chance to thrive same as you."
The Hamas representative nodded, "Thank you, Madam Secretary. It seems finally someone understands exactly what we are fighting for."
"This does not excuse the past actions of Hamas or the PLO, but we have a saying in the ISA: Nothing happens in a vacuum. What the Second World War brought was the British Empire ceding Palestine to create a new Israeli nation. Now, to create a new Jewish nation in the heart of the holy lands for the three religions of the book… Let's just say we felt it centuries afterwards. Ambassadors," she turned to the Hamas and PLO representatives, "if you can communicate with your people and let them know that if they vow to stop attacks on Israel, the ISA guarantees that we will begin construction of independent utilities and increase the quality of life in both the West Bank and Gaza. Hopefully we can come to an official agreement to repatriate lands lost to forceful seizure. We will guarantee new homes and other facilities no matter the outcome." She turned to the Israeli Ambassador, "Mister Ambassador, if you can communicate to your home office that if we can come to an agreement to withdraw troops from both Gaza and West Bank along with a formal agreement to allow the free movement of Palestinians in Israel, the ISA can provide assistance in reinforcing the quality of life in Israel. For those who gained when Palestinians lost, we can very easily construct new homes for them. Israel and Palestine are both recognized nations in the ISA, and Israel needs to treat them as a sovereign nation."
The Israeli Ambassador nodded to Secretary Heinrike, "Madam Secretary, what does the ISA hope to gain from all this?" he asked of her.
"A unified Earth." She stated simply, "We have the technology to curtail and eliminate many of the problems that exist on the planet. We have no reason to be shooting at one another when we have much more important issues to tackle. Why use munitions on one another in wasteful conflicts? We need those guns pointed without, not within." She clasped her hands dramatically, "Now, gentlemen, I believe this round of talks has come to an end. I have another appointment, so if you'll excuse me." She nodded and rose from the table, the other representatives followed suit. She quickly exited from the room and walked a few meters down for her next meeting. There was no rest for the weary.
She entered the next room where an aide exchanged tablets with her. She nodded to them, took a brief glance down, and sat at her seat, the other two seats already occupied.
"Good to see representatives from India and Pakistan here." She began as she reviewed the tablet briefly, "Let's get down to business, shall we?"