BattleTech: Shattered Allegiance

By

Shawn M.I. Tigges

The BattleTech Universe and original characters are © WizKids. Colonel Alexandre St. Blair, Anastasia and Tatianna St. Blair, Lieutenant Colonel Leah Dubrick, all members of the Independence Guards RCT and the Third Genyosha are © Shawn M.I. Tigges.  Shawn Tigges no way affiliated with WizKids or their affiliates

Fevara Plains

Huntress

Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space

23 May, 3060

            Colonel Alexandre St. Blair, commanding officer of the Independence Guards Regimental Combat Team pursed his lips as he watched the remote sensor feed on one of his secondary displays.  Strapped in his 95 ton NSR-9J Nightstar BattleMech, which itself was submerged in a deep lake, Alexandre waited as the red contact blips, signifying a Clanner convoy and its escort cluster.  On the screen, there was a dark blue field, signifying a "free fire zone" for the regiment's 33rd Guards Artillery battalion.  The thirty LNB-7Q Longbow Mechs, each armed with two LRM Class Twenty missile launchers had pre plotted a set of coordinates for their missiles to land upon.  The FFZs were plotted directly into the path of the Clanners, and in just a few moments things would get very hot for them.

            The Independence Guards, along with the rest of Task Force Bulldog, a multi-national operation lead by Prince Victor Ian Stiener-Davion from the Inner Sphere to Clan Space to relieve Operation Serpent.  Bulldog had originally been devised to drive Clan Smoke Jaguar from the Inner Sphere, however, they did too good of a job, and placed Serpent, almost a years travel away, at risk.  Operation Serpent, another multi-national force under the auspice of the Star League newly reformed, had been tasked with destroying the war making capabilities of Clan Smoke Jaguar's ability to make war.  Operation Serpent had been on its mission for several months, and had been whittled away to only a few operational regiments, but they were close to finishing there job.  It was time for Bulldog to finish what gallant men and women of Serpent had started.  End the Clan Invasion.

            He let his thoughts drift a bit at that thought, for ten years the nations of the Inner Sphere had lived with the threat of invasion from the decedents of the original Star League Defense Force that had fled their homes at the beginning of the Succession Wars with the collapse of the first Star League.  Alexandre let his eyes drift to the small picture adhered to a out of the way corner of the Nightstar's cockpit.  It was of his wife, Anastasia, and his little girl, Tatiana.  That was the whole reason he was fighting this war, to protect them from having to live under the clans.  The picture had been taken just before Operation Bulldog had commenced, a year ago, and he would not get to see his wife or little girl for at least another year, by then, his little girl of six would be eight, and there would be two years to make up to her.

            Alexandre put that out of his mind for the moment, there was a job to do here, and it needed to be done quickly.  He smiled grimly as the last of the blips entered the blue field.  He stabbed a button on his coms panel, signaling the 33rd to open fire.  Within moments, even underwater, Alexander heard the soft whistle of the missiles flying overheard.  Moments after that, the ground rumbled with the impact of the missiles.

            "All right Indies!!! Light 'em up!!" Alexander called out over the coms as he activated his BattleMech, the soft groan of its fusion reactor powering up.  With that, his view screen came alight with targeting data and a single green cross hair in the middle.  A Clan cluster equaled seventy-five 'Mechs.  The Independence Guards consisted of four battalions, the 81st Armored Calvary, comprised of mostly medium weight Mechs.  Then there was the 44th, 101st and 194th Heavy Armored Battalions, the main striking force of the Independence Guards, Mechs in these three units were no lighter than seventy tons and packed the majority of the fighting potential for the unit.   Not counting its artillery battalion, the regiment numbered eighty-six.  While the Guards had the numbers, the Clans had better tech, making the fight even.  The Guards knew this one was going to be tough from the start, however, and they were not ones to back down from a fight at any rate. 

            "Remember people, no Jaguar Mechs are to be left operational.  This is going to deteriorate into a brawl real quick folks, so no high handed ordering, this one's going to be fought on the lance and company level.  That means Battalion commanders, keep your nets open, and be prepared to move your forces around to support heavily engaged units, but no oders beyond reinforcements or retreats, got it?

            "Yes sir," Jonathan heard four voices over his battalion net receiver as started to move the Nightstar forward, out of the lake.  Good he thought, his people knew their jobs, and they would do them, he wouldn't have to interfere, and that meant he could concentrate on fighting the Clan opponents

            Jonathan pushed the Nightstar forward, its reverse jointed knees and other joints dripping with water as it walked up onto the lakeshore and towards the Clan Mechs, the convoy vehicles already were destroyed in the bombardment.  The BattleMech, a giant walking behemoth with more firepower than most armored platoons of the twentieth century had been the 'kings of the battlefield' since 2443.  Infantry and Armor was still a major part of the battlefield, and each could take down a Mech and the Guards did posses an attached Regiment each of those fighting units.  However, Mechs were so versatile, they quickly became the backbone of the Inner Sphere's House Armies, such as the Armed Forces of the Federated Commonwealth, which the Independence Guards were a part of.  A Mech would range from a twenty-ton light scout Mech, to a hundred-ton behemoth of an assault machine bristling with missiles, projectile weapons, lasers and particle projection cannon.  Mechs were an awe-inspiring sight, but they were also deadly as all of man's ability to make war.  Today, Alexandre had sent the armor and infantry to support the 1st Ceti Hussars RCT as they held a line while Serpent units regrouped to join the assault once more.  This battle would be a purely Mech one, and that would be the most horrible of all.

            Alexandre spied a Clanner Mad Cat 'Mech, damaged by the artillery strike so the bird like joints, similar to Alexandre's Nightstar, were almost completely devoid of armor.  Alexandre nodded to himself and let his cross-hair settle over the damaged leg, till it turned gold.  Jonathan stabbed the firing trigger, and felt the right side of his 'Mech shudder as he fired one of the Nightstar's two massive Gauss rifles.  Gauss rifles were in essence, electro-magnetic rail guns, accelerating their spherical ferro-nickel slugs to supersonic speeds, causing devastating damage to an undamaged opponent.  The effect on the Mad Cat's critically damaged armor was that the slug slammed into the reverse actuated knee joint, ignoring what little armor there was left and tore into moymer synthetic muscle bundles, the method that Mechs used for locomotion, and then into the internal structure.  The round had hit in the weakest part of the Mad Cat's design and the slug literally snapped the internal skeleton in two.  The Mad Cat toppled forward, its gyroscopic stabilization system unable to cope with the loss of the leg.  The jutting cockpit buried itself into the soft soil.

            Alexandre nodded in his neurohelmet, the device which connected his own sense of balance to the Nightstar's gyros and kept the two legged machine upright and running as he watched the Mad Cat fall.  One down he thought as something flashed off to his side and he heard a male voice cry out over his communications net that he was ejecting.  Alexandre turned just in time to see the form of Captain David Malleroy' 100-ton Atlas going nova as its fusion reactor core was breached.  Alexandre saw a battered 85-ton Masakari, again a reverse jointed leg design standing over the hulking wreckage of what was once an Atlas as Malleroy's ejection couch drifted down to earth on its para-sail.  The Masakari's pilot, not content with destroying the Mech, moved to crush David below its feet.

            You may have abandoned your high hand rules Clanner, Alexander thought as he brought both his Gauss rifles on line and locked them into the same interlock circuit, linking them to fire with one pull of the trigger.  But I'll be damned if I let you squash one of my men.  Alexander's finger tightened on the trigger as the crosshair settled onto the Masakari, the slugs flying from the barrels before the targeting computer had gotten a lock.  One of the hastily aimed shots skipped off the Masakari's torso area knocking the Mech backwards from the force of the slug, armor splintering off as if it were dried wood.  The second slug buried itself into the elbow joint of the left arm, lodging itself there freezing the arm out of joint, unable to use the two particle projection cannon there.  Both shots were enough to get the Clan pilot to forget about Malleroy trying to scramble from his command couch and focus its attention on Alexandre.  The Masakari brought its two remaining extended-range particle projection cannons to face the Nightstar and fired.  Twin azure bolts of artificial lightning streaked out, one struck the Nightstar in the shoulder, the other sailed past behind him must likely igniting underbrush as it flew past.  The bolt flayed off armor, the molten mettle sloshing off in rivulets.  Alexandre frowned as he fought the controls of the Nightstar, but he knew the damage done, while looking like an ugly black scar across the armor, wasn't as serious as it most likely looked.  He knew the Nightstar, he had piloted it since it had first come off the line at General Motors BattleMech Division and knew that she could take a lot more punishment than had been just dealt to her.

            Alexandre locked in his own ER PPC to the trigger and took careful aim on the mangled armor over the Masakari's right breast.  When the crosshair turned from green to gold again, Alexandre tightened his finger over the trigger.  The heat inside the cockpit spiked as the excess heat energy poured off as the weapon fired.  That was one of the drawbacks BattleMechs, all weapons fired produced some amount of heat, some, like the Gauss rifles, created very little heat, while weapons like ER PPCs created a staggering amount as they fired.  BattleMechs were equipped with cooling radiators, known as heat sinks to counter the effects of heat, and the pilots wore a special cooling vest that ran radiating coolant against their bodies to keep them cool in the staggering temperatures of the cockpit.  However, one had to be careful firing high heat weapons too often, or they would risk auto-shutdown for cooling at a most inopportune time during combat, or even worse, an ammo explosion or 'cook off.'

            The ER PPC shot struck the Masakari dead on in the heart of its most damaged section.  A gout of sickly black smoke exploded from inside the hole that the bolt had entered, signifying the destruction of part of the gyro assembly, followed by a geyser of greenish fluid as a heat sink exploded.  Alexandre did not wait for the Clan pilot to recover as he triggered off both the pulse medium lasers mounted below the Gauss rifles.  A second, milder wave of heat flooded the cockpit as twin emerald darts of energy lanced out and carved into the gaping hole in the armor.  The dual shots severed the remnant of the internal structure holding the arm on and it dropped off, rendering the two ER PPCs useless as they banged against the soft soil.  The loss of the arm was just too much for the pilot, and the Clan Mech simply toppled over backwards, no longer able to keep balanced with the loss of the arm and the damage to the gyros.  The pilot tried to stand his Mech once again, but it wasn't possible, and the fusion reactor auto-shutdown systems must have kicked in as the Mech simply lay still.

            "Colonel watch out!" someone called out over the net and Alexandre automatically stepped the Mech backwards just as several scarlet darts of large lasers streaked past his cockpit.  Alexandre turned to see a huge 100-ton Diashi standing and facing him, its armor and mottled gray paint scheme almost pristine.  The pilot of the Clan Mech pressed his attack and Alexandre felt himself battered around in the cockpit as the Gauss rifle mounted in the Diashi's left arm let loose, striking the Nightstar in the leg, splintering off more armor.

            Alexandre returned by firing both his medium pulse lasers and Gauss rifles.  Heat washed over him again as he watched the results of his counter attack against the larger Mech.  Both slugs skipped off the torso while only one laser connected, scarring the armor of the cockpit.

            "Bring it backwards a fifty meters Colonel," a feminine voice called out and Alexandre replied, throttling the Nightstar backwards.  The bird-legged Diashi followed, to walk straight into the line off fire of Lieutenant Colonel Leah Debrick's own Mech, a 70-ton WHM-7S Warhammer.  Dual ER PPC fire lanced from the huge cannon like lower arms of the Mech, the azure man made lightning sloshed armor of the huge Daishi's right side.  The Diashi ignored the new assault and continued to press home the attack on Alexandre's Nightstar, a Gauss rifle slug skipping off the armor next to were the ER PPC was mounted.  Warning sirens blared in Alexandre's ear as short-ranged missile fire from the Diashi peppered his leg armor.  Armor diagrams on the secondary display lit yellow and in a few places amber, but Alexandre ignored it, pressing his own attack.

            The Nightstar shuddered and heat spiked once again as Alexandre took the chance of firing all his weapons at once.  Shutdown sirens blared but Alex quickly slapped the override control, flicking an eye to the heat curve as it spiked into the red, he had almost damaged his reactor shielding with that one, but if he had calculated right…

            The medium pulse lasers stippled the armor along the legs, causing minimal damage as Leah pressed her own attack, triggering her two SRM 2 packs and one of her ER PPCs into the Diashi's already damaged right torso, opening a small breach in the armor.  It was Alexandre's heavy weapons that exploited the damage.  His ER PPCs man made lightning bolt slammed into the damaged area first, opening an even wider hole and bursting a heat sink as a geyser of greenish fluid erupted out of the hole.  One of his Gauss rifle slugs arrived mere moments later, ignoring the now brittle armor and burying itself deep into the internal structure of the Diashi.  Alexandre smiled as a large explosion erupted from inside the giant Mech, signifying that the round had impacted against the ammunition storage for the Diashi's SRM 6 packs, exploding the solid propellant and warheads.  His last slug was the killing shot however.  The round skipped off the jutting cockpit of the Diashi, the armor there, already scoured by his laser simply crumpled, crushing the cockpit and killing the pilot.  With the pilot gone, the Diashi simply went limp, dropping its arms with no more intelligence at the controls.  Even though the heat was stifling inside his cockpit, Alexandre cringed.  That was no way for a man to go, crushed in his own cockpit.  That thought left his mind immediately as he realized that the Clan piloted would not have even blinked if Alexandre had died in a similar fashion.

            "Nice shot Boss," Leah's voice called over the net a smile in her voice.

            "No, lucky shot," Alexandre returned as he gasped in the just now dissipating heat.  Alexandre took a moment to take in the situation around him, and noticed around him the fighting had stopped, Mechs were scattered all around, many inactive and destroyed, some Clan, some Guards.  Only Independence Guards Mechs were active however, signifying, at least around Alexandre and his command lance, the fight was over.

            "Battalion Commanders report in," Alex ordered as he took stock of his command lance.  His Nightstar was heavily damaged, but still able to fight, Leah's Warhammer had taken damage but most of that looked superficial.  Malleroy's Atlas was completely gone from the hips up, the fusion reactor destroying the entire Mech, but Malleroy was alive, his med-beacon sounding on the emergency frequency.  Finally there was Command Sergeant Major Kevin Grayson's own 90-ton MAL-1R Mauler was smoking in several places, the LRM 10 packs on each shoulder expelling wisps of vapor trails from his last shots.

            "44th, we're down five Mechs, no casualties," Lieutenant Colonel Larse Macklim called out.

            "101st, we're pretty clean, two Mechs down, one casualty, Sergeant Paulson has a broken arm and a few cracked ribs," Lieutenant Colonel Alice Harper reported

            "194th, eight Mechs down, no casualties," Lieutenant Colonel Vance Hallen's voice called out as his own Atlas waved a hand from a ridge two miles away from Alexandre's position.

            "81st Recon, we were hit pretty hard sir," Lieutenant Colonel Hakori Carlson.  "Fifteen Mechs down, several pilots with injuries, and we lost three people."

            Alex sighed and nodded, all in all they got off light.  The 81st always faced the toughest odds and those losses were light compared to other unit's recon battalions. However, the parents of those three mechwarriors killed were not going to think their losses light.  "All right people, form up and lets get this battlefield secured for the scroungers," Alex told his people before he flipped over to the command net again.  "Firebase One, this is Eye One, we caught them napping, looks like we got the entire cluster and convoy, we're going to need some salvage crew out here, and a med team."

            "Roger that Eye One, as soon as the scroungers and meat wagons get there, your clear for home."

            "Roger Firebase One," Alex returned.  "All right Guards, we're through for the day, lets pack it in when the cleanup crews get here."

Firebase One, Fevera Plains

Huntress

Kerensky Cluster, Clan Space

23 May, 3060

            Alexandre sighed as he walked into the pre-fabricated structure set up as the Guards planning center.  The Guards had returned from the ambush not more than thirty minutes ago, and he was tired.  A quick, cold shower had been all that he could have afforded, and a change from the traditional cooling vest, knit shorts and calf-high armored boots for a set of camouflage fatigues.  The set he was wearing was not the traditional Federated Commonwealth light Davion green fatigues, but a pair patterned on that of the ancient United States Army field dress, known as BDUs.  The field dress was a bit baggy, making it more comfortable than the standard FedCom field dress.  It also was camouflage, unlike the Davion standard, which was straight green.  The fatigues made the Guards stand out a bit from the rest of the AFFC units around them, but that didn't really matter with the members of the Guards, in fact, some of them took pleasure in the fact they stood out.

            As Alexandre approached the large table Leah stepped forward with a cup of coffee.  She smiled at him as she brushed a few locks of her long red hair out of her face, then nodded to the four battalion commanders, CMS Greyson, along with a few key junior officers he had given specific assignments in the command staff gathered around the table.  Alexandre's eyes widened as he noticed Hakori Carlson's right arm was in a sling and his left was bandaged fairly heavily.  Alexandre had known that the 81st had taken a real pounding, but he didn't know that Hakori had been one of the casualties.

            The slim, stately man of Asian ancestry shrugged when he saw Alexandre's look.  "I am all right Boss, just got banged up a little, no worries, I'll be back in my Spector in no time."

            Alexandre nodded simply, then turned and took in his entire command staff.  "All right people, how did we come off?"

            "Most of the Mechs we lost can be repaired fairly easily from our stockpile of parts, only Captain Mallaroy's Atlas is a complete loss," 1st Lieutenant Mia Fallow, the Guard's equipment specialist said.  At those words, Mallaroy flinched.  No MechWarrior wanted to loose his BattleMech.  The machines were prohibitively expensive, and extremely difficult to make.  Many times, it could take months to replace a lost Mech.  Mallaroy, one of the best pilots in the unit and head of the tactical planning staff, might be out of action for a while.

            "See if we can beg borrow or plead a Mech from another unit, maybe the Ceti Hussars?" Alexandre asked.  "We did lend them our armor and infantry after all."

            "Actually sir, we can do one better, that," Fallow said with a smile.  "We were able to recover some spare parts for a Clanner Mad Cat, we put the leg back on the one you shot up sir.  Since we were the ones that grabbed it, we keep it, standard rules of salvage are being applied, even here.  You get first shots at it Captain, if you want it."

            Alexandre frowned as he watched David mull over the decision.  Most of the Guards had already been given the chance to pilot Clan designs, Alexandre himself had been given the chance to pilot one of the behemoth Diashis.  Most pilots however had turned down those offers, they knew their Mechs, and would not normally give them up just for a chance to pilot a Clanner design, which many times were notoriously hard to repair because of the higher tech level.  However, Mallaroy had lost his Atlas, and even though the Mad Cat was not as heavily armored as the Atlas, but it was faster and still had considerable firepower. 

            "All right, I'll give her a shot, just get all those blasted Jag markings off of her.  Oh and paint it in our standard forest cammo, not that ridiculous gray on dark gray stuff, I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb in the forsets and plains on this place," Mallaroy returned.

            "Got it sir," Fallow returned.  "Well, give us a three days, and we'll have everything up to speed.

            "Not really, we lost three people out there," Hakori said, sobering the mood a bit.

            "I know we can't really replace them sir," this was 1stLieutenant Vincent von Kaster, a personnel expert.  "But, we can pull from some of the people Prince Stiener-Davion left behind when he and the others went of to Strana Mechty."

            Alexandre nodded at that.  Prince Victor had left a month ago to the Clan capital world of Strana Mechty to plead the Inner Sphere's case to the Clan Khans, or rulers.  If he couldn't stop the invasion peaceably, then he would play things by Clanner rules and challenge them to a Trial of Refusal, if he won, the invasion would stop, if he didn't, well, Alexandre hoped his Prince won this one.

            Alexandre nodded at the young man then brought the holo-emmiter embedded into the table online, looking at the currently available tactical outline map.  The Guards, along with the 1st Ceti Hussars and a brand knew, recently formed Draconis Combine unit, the 3rd Genyosha had crushed in the Jaguars attempts to finish off what was left of Task Force Serpant.  Both Serpant and the Jags were shattered forces, even before Alexandre and the rest of the Bulldog forces had arrived, it was by sheer force of will that either side was still battling, and now, even that had left the Jags, giving the Inner Sphere forces victory.

            But at what a cost Jonathan thought as he recalled the lists of shattered, and out right destroyed units, some of the best of the Inner Sphere.  The Northwind Highlanders, First Kathil Uhlans, the Eridani Light Horse, The Second Sword of Light, the Knights of the Inner Sphere, all taking more than fifty percent causalities.  Some, like the Light Horse, would recover, others, like the Uhlans, were forever broken, and would most likely be disbanded.  Too many good men and women had died here.  Alexandre however, knew that at least they had died for the right cause, and while that would never take the sting off their deaths, at least he knew each one had died fighting.

            "Damn the Jags for bringing it to this," Alexandre breathed under his voice so no one could here.  Then looked up at the holograph hanging mid air, one more task remained for the Independence Guards.  "David?  Are we still on track to hit this command fort here with the 3rd Genyosha?"

            "Yes sir, Ti-si Katki Misawai sends his regards and says whenever we are ready, he will be at our side," Mallaroy returned with a broad smile.

            Alexandre nodded at that.  If there had been one thing that had come out of the horror that was the Clan Invasion, it was the detente between the Federated Commonwealth and the Draconis Combine.  The two nations had been bitter enemies for centuries, many if not most of the Succession Wars started as conflicts between the two nations.  Now however, with the Clan threat, and the Federate Commonwealth's easing paranoia about the Japanese cultured nation, things were turning around, ever so slowly, but they were turning.  The fact that Alexandre himself had made friends with Katki was showing that two people from the nations could be friends.

            "Okay David what's the plan?"

            Before David could continue however, a runner entered the planning center.  He was not wearing the Guards' uniform, and he spoke with a heavy German accent, signifying he was most likely from one of the Lyran Alliance units.

            "Urgent news!!! Prince Victor has returned!!!"

            Alexandre stood straight at that, had he actually accomplished what he set out to do?  "Well, what's the news."

            "Our forces won the battle!  The Clan invasion is no more! We are going home!!!!"

            Those simple words had the command staff of the Independence Guards simply standing in silence for several moments, then every single one of them let out a sigh, and a smile.  They were going home, returning to their homes, their families.  Alexandre pulled the locket he kept under his uniform out and flipped the small piece of jewelry open, looking at the picture of his wife and little girl.

            It was time to go home, at last.

Takashi Memorial Space Port

Luthian

Pesht Military District, Draconis Combine

February 4, 3061

            Alexandre St. Blair sighed as he looked up at his Nightstar as it was being loaded into the DropShip for the return trip to its rightful home, on New Avalon, the capital of the Federated Commonwealth.  As commanding officer of one of the many regiments that had participated in the Clan War, he had piloted the Mech on a mission of celebration, a parade he never thought he would see the likes of down the wide streets of Luthien, that capital world of the Draconis Combine, every unit had been represented, all painted in parade ground colors, save his Nightstar, which, in reality, did not have parade colors, for the Guards had always kept their Mechs the mottled green, green, brown camouflaged scheme.  The Nightstar had looked rather plan, he knew, but she did not to be flashy, she had done her job, and kept Alexandre safe through all the years he had piloted her.  In fact, as he had passed many of the streets, he could have sworn people on the ground below him paid more respect to his simply painted Nightstar than of all the flash around it, especially the Lyran Alliance units, known for their flashy paint styles.  He had asked his friend, Katki after the parade about it, and the Asian decent man smiled at him, waving his arms up to his own Mech, a MAL-1R Mauler just like Grayson's, which was painted in similar fashioned to the Nightstar.  He had said that the people were honored by the simple dignity he had shown them, that he had shown that he was true warrior, ever vigilant and ready to leap to the defense of his nation, not one concerned with flash or pomp like so many, even in the Combine. 

            Alexandre had blinked hard at that, he had originally worried that the people of the Combine might have taken offense at his Nightstar being sheathed in field colors, ready for battle, but the people had taken it as just the opposite and respected him for his discretion.  Alexandre shook his head.  He may be a friend with the Combine, but he still had yet to figure out all the intricacies of its culture.

            "Lord St. Blair!  The First Prince wishes to see you!" A young private from the Federated Commonwealth called out, running up to Alexandre.  Alexandre winced at that; he had almost forgotten he was of noble birth, almost.

            Alexandre had been borne into station as the first son of the Duke of the Periphery March, one of the three sub structures of the semi-feudal, semi-republican Federated Commonwealth.  Form an early age, Alexandre saw himself as no different from the other non-noble born people around him, causing him to clash with his father at most turns.

            Things had come to a head his last two years of primary school when he had met, and been thoroughly trounced by a girl his own age at a local gymnastics competition of the March capital world of Ark Angel.  From that moment, he and Anastasia Romanov, who, despite her regal maiden name, was not a nobleman's daughter.   They had become good friends, even though they lived on opposite sides of the planet, the wonders of easy hypersonic transportation and instant communications had kept them in touch.  Very soon that affection had turned to love and romance.  Alexandre's choice however, had gone in complete opposite of his father's for him, who was planning to arrange a marriage with a young noblewoman.  On the day of their announcement of engagement, Alexandre and his father had argued all night long, ending with his father's decision to ship Alexandre off to the New Avalon Military Academy, planning that a few years at the academy and then becoming a reserve officer would straighten his son out.  It also played on the idea that the distance between New Avalon and Ark Angel would break the relationship between he and Anastasia.

            His father's plan backfired when Anastasia accepted a slot to the prestigious, and highly competitive New Avalon Institute of Science medical practitioner's program, the largest and most acclaimed university in all of the Inner Sphere, and the parent organization of the NAMA.  Alexandre also, against his father's wishes, instead of after finishing his standard courses of study and returning home to learn to rule the March, he signed up for the BattleMech program at NAMA to become a frontline officer.  He and Anastasia were married, and had their little girl Tatiana when Alexandre graduated from the program and was given an assignment to the Davion Heavy Guards as a Left-tenant.

            Alexandre's father never lived to see his son's accomplishments, or his granddaughter.  He had died in the last year of his BattleMech training of a heart attack.  Most had expected the elder St. Blair son to return home and rule, but, instead, he had turned over all powers to his younger brother Kevin, Alexandre was now only a Duke in name.

            Alexandre rose quickly through the command structure of the Federated Commonwealth, after five years, he was a Kommendant, and in a position to institute a dream he had had ever since his days at NAMA.  Alexandre had approached First Prince Victor Stiener-Davion, his immediate commander, and ruler of the Federated Commonwealth for permission to form a new unit, a unit where there were no nobles, where all members were common people, and everything was based on pure performance.  The First Prince, himself trying to turn some of the haughty tied of the nobles in the military agreed, and Alexandre set to work.  Only the best soldiers would be allowed into the new unit, and after he had his own command staff, they spent six months testing all applicants for the unit, till they had filled out the rosters with the best MechWarriors, infantrymen, and armored fighting vehicle crews they could find.  Several nobles had heard of the new unit and had tried to force their way in, realizing that it would be an elite unit from the start.  They were all turned away however, Alexandre would be the only noble in this unit, and after he retired, no more would ever enter.  That had caused a firestorm in the Armed Forces Federated Commonwealth High Command, but Prince Victor supported his decision, and the unit remained as it was, a unit where everything was based on performance, and the only political influence allowed was loyalty to the people of the Federated Commonwealth, and the First Prince.  The only thing left was a name, and traditions to start.

            Alexandre returned to history for the identity and structure of the unit.  He formed in the mold of the ancient United States Army, the main fighting force of the first true government of the people that had no nobles.  From structure to traditions, the unit would be solidly grounded in that heritage.  All members of the unit abandoned their AFFC rank in favor of the equivalent in the US Army, in Alexandre's case, from Kommendant to Colonel.  The unit adopted the dress of the old US army, which, was found to be very battle ready, and the dress uniforms smart and very distinctive.  They adopted the crossed ancient cannons and outstretched bald eagle as their insignia, and chose a name to trace their path, and their ideas, the Independence Guards.

            The unit, first scoffed by most as a showpiece and one that would most likely crumble in its first battle, showed that it more than had the right stuff to stand in battle, and when many units crumbled during the Clan Wars in their first battle, the Guards not only held but pushed back the clans on a small boarder skirmish.  The Guards were to stay, and they were now considered one of the prides of the AFFC.

            Alexandre smiled at the young man.  "Thank you private, and it is Colonel, not Lord, I gave up my right to that title when I handed over the March to my brother."

            "Yes Lor… Sir!" the private said, snapping to attention and clicking his heals together.

            Alexandre returned the salute and followed the young man to a darkened room. Where a group of men stood.  Alexandre recognized them all instantly, Prince Victor, the Precentor Martial of ComStar, the semi-mystical organization that controlled interstellar communication and many advanced technologies, Anastasius Focht.  The man wore, instead of the normal ComStar robes a simple set of green fatigues.  Finally, there was a man in his mid-to-late fifties of Asian decent.  Stately and exuding the quiet, contemplative dignity that Alexandre had come to admire of the Combine, he wore a simple suit, only with one thing adorning it, a small, elegant red pendent with a black coiled Asiatic dragon.  This was the Dragon, Coordinator of the Draconis Combine, Theodore Kurita.

            "Komban-wa Kurita-sama," Alexandre said in what he hoped was at least understandable Japanese; after all, he spoke English, Russian and German, not languages contusive to learning an Asiatic tongue.  He also gave a long low bow, and he was sure his father was turning in his grave as he did.  While not sharing a boarder with the Combine, his father had been a staunch anti-Kurita-ist.  "I must thank you for the hospitality your nation has showed the regiment, both though our personal and military needs and interests, my XO has almost been convinced to give up her WarHammer in favor of one of your Grand Dragons after that test run.  It was also nice, I admit, to find some Russian decorations in my suite of rooms, I may have given up my title, but that does not mean I have given up my heritage, I thank you greatly"

            The Coordinate smiled warmly.  "I thank you Colonel-san, that is indeed high praise for a MechWarrior, and I am glad we could, at the very least remind you of Ark Angel, we know it has not been your home for years, but, we here in the Combine know of how strong roots can be."

            "I thank you again."

            Theodore nodded, but his face turned to a more serious turn.  "Things however, need to be discussed between you and Victor."

            Alexandre turned to his Prince.  While Alexandre himself was not a tall man, only five-feet, eight inches, he still had a good couple inches on Victor Ian Stiener-Davion.  However, stature, as Alexandre well knew, was not the true messure of a man, and that was especially the case with Prince Victor.  He was everything Alexandre admired in a man, strong in conviction, loyalty, and sense of purpose.  Alexandre would follow him anywhere he asked, that was the depth of his respect and loyalty to the man he considered a friend, as well as a Prince.

            However, today, something seemed to lay heavy on his shoulders.  "Alex, you and the Guards are being ordered to Tharkad for the Second Whitting Conference."

            Tharkad, Alex thought, how could he be ordered by a Lyran?  "Sir? We are a AFFC unit, your sister took the Lyran half of the Commonwealth with her and formed it into the Alliance, she has no right to order us anywhere," Alexandre said in confusion, he did not have to say that Katherine Stiner-Davion, or Katrina as she called herself now, after her enormously popular, and effective grandmother, had unlawfully, and underhandedly taken the Lyran Alliance out of the Commonwealth, and Alexandre had no doubt, was behind the assassination of Victor and her mother, Melissa Stiener-Davion.

            "Alex, I hate to say it, but now, you are just as much a Lyran unit as you are a FedCom one."

            "Sir? What are you saying?"

            "Katherine has taken over for Yvonne.  The public believed they needed a stronger rule, and now, she is not relinquishing it."

            Alexandre frowned deeply at that, Prince Victor had left his younger sister Yvonne Stiener-Davion, loved just as much as her brother in the Federated Commonwealth, as regent on his throne while had accompanied the Star League Defense Force to battle.  Alexandre could not even begin to believe that public sentiment could change so much about the young woman.

            "Sir there is absolutely no way the Guards will serve that conniving egotistical megalomaniac sister of yours," Alexandre growled.  "She manipulated the public, plays one regiment off the other to keep them under control in the Alliance, and, she murdered her own mother.  Neither I, nor the Guards will ever serve someone like that," the young Colonel said those words with conviction, gaining nods from the other more elder men in presence.  "I can have the Indies completely loaded up on our DropShips and ready to go in two days.  With us, the Davion Heavy Guards, the Tenth Lyran Heavy Guard and the other units loyal to you returning home, no way she can keep your throne."

            "I appreciate your loyalty Alex, you have no idea how much I really do, but, I can't do that."

            "Why not sir, the Indies, the Heavy Guards, the Avalon Hussars, the 10th, we will all follow you anywhere you want us to go."

            "I know, but the question is, do I have the right?"

            "Sir?"

            Victor lowered his head.  "The Inner Sphere has seen just to much war, the Succession Wars, the Clan War, all of it.  What right for I have to visit destruction on my own people just to return myself tot the throne?"  Alexandre had to nodded with that, and he noted everyone gathered did the same.  "So, no, the Independence Guards won't be used to retake New Avalon.  You and your people will be going to Tharkad, on invitation of my sister to attend as guest."

            "Why? We have always taken a no-politick stance, and have always pledge our loyalty to the Commonwealth."

            "Because you are heroes of the war," Kurita said.  "You will be a magnificent show piece for her, to be paraded around.  Symbolism Alexandre."

            "Plus," Focht picked up.  "She knows your loyalties, probably trying to keep you close so she can keep an eye on you, you know the old saying, friends close, enemies closer."

            "Then we will refuse."

            "Not a good idea Alex," Victor said.  "Please just trust me on this, go, attend, show the Commonwealth still has people loyal to it, not Katherine."

            Alexandre stood still, and then let out a brief sigh.  "All right sir, I may not like it, but I'll do it."

            "Good," Victor said, then straightened up a bit, trying to put a happy smile on his face.  "I have a little surprise for you now, your wife and daughter just arrived in-system from New Avalon."

            Alexandre's eyes went wide.  "Sir? Anastasia and Tatiana are here?"

            "Well, not here in a sense," Victor said.  "We just received word that their dropship is burning for Luthian and will be here in a day.  I sent a HPG message a few months ago when we reached the Inner Sphere again for asking them to come here and meet you.  Alex, I know how much they mean to you.  Consider it a bit of a parting gift, my last act as your commanding officer, and that of a friend to another.  Spend some time with your family, then, travel with them to Tharkad, to the conference."

            "Thank you sir," Alexandre said softly, the prospect of seeing his beloved wife and precious little girl again almost outshined his sense of foreboding.  He did however stiffen, and snap his arm in salute.  "Sir, it has been an honor, pleasure, and pride serving under you, I truly do hope, that this is not the last time I get to say this, but, the Independence Guards are at your to command."

            Victor smiled warmly, thanking the young man of twenty-nine in front of him for the display.  He too snapped to attention, clicking his heals together in FedCom tradition.  "It has been an honor to have you with me Alex, now go, enjoy your family, and your life."

Grand Ball Room,

The Triad, Tharkad City

Tharkad

District of Donegal, Lyran Alliance

April 23, 3061

            Alexandre sighed as his wife, Anastasia St. Blair smoothed the bowtie of his mess dress blues uniform, another inheritance the Guards had taken from the United States Army.  He looked down into her eyes.  "Thank you 'Stasia," he said in Russian, taking her hand.  "I don't know what I would do without you."

            Doctor Anastasia St. Blair smiled at her husband.  "I do not wish," she returned, also in Russian, "to finds out 'Lexie." 

            Anastasia was a small woman, just barely five feet on the nose, she had the graceful, delicate looking build of a dancer with pale, soft skin and stunning crystal blue eyes.  She had long light red hair with blond accenting.  Tonight, instead of her normal skirt, blouse and doctor's coat, she wore a simple and conservative, but very elegant dark blue evening dress, intended to match her husband's dress uniform.  Her long hair was styled up on to the back of her head, kept in place by a simple satin bow of the same color as her dress, exposing her graceful neck.  She just had the lightest of hints of makeup on, something she really didn't wear anyways.  Alexandre smiled at her; she was a beautiful picture, one that he preferred much more than Katherine's efforts.  The young man frowned as he took a quick look at her, she wore a light blue dress festooned with diamonds or some other gem, her makeup making her face paler than Anastasia's natural color, her lips painted a deep read for contrast.  Her hair was perfectly styled and permed around her shoulders, and she wore a tiara.  The image she was trying to present, at least as far as Alexandre could tell, was that of an angel, to him, it just made his eyes hurt.

            "Common, lets mingle," Anastasia said still in Russian, smiling and tugging her husband gently to the party.

            "I have no wish," Alexandre almost growled, "to mingle with those people," and it was quite obvious whom he was talking about.

            "I know 'Lexie, that is why we are mingling with a more, preferable company," Anastasia returned and Alexandre looked up to see Anastasia was guiding them towards a small knot of people.  "Hello everyone," Anastasia said in English now.  "Please, may we join you, my husband is being most un-sociable tonight, and I thought gathering with friends would cheer his disposition."

            "Not at all," Kai Allard-Lio, heir to the St. Ives Compact and commander of the 1st St. Ives Lancers said with a large smile as he held his wife, Dierdre's hand.  He was a man of Chinese extraction, but the Caucasian of his father showed a bit by being somewhat taller than the average person of Asiatic decent and having piercing blue eyes.  "To be honest, Hohiro and I were actually debating on weather or not Alex and the Guards would actually shove Katherine's invitation down her throat."

            "Hi!" another of the gathering said with a smile.  This was Hohiro Kurita, Theodore Kurita's son, and heir to the Coordinator-ship.  Hohiro was single, so, instead of a wife, he escorted his sister, Omi, a very elegant woman, at the ball.  "I for one, would not have blamed him."

            "To be honest, I almost did," Alexandre returned.  "Anastasia actually talked me into it."

            "Common Boss," Lieutenant Colonel Leah Dubrick said as she held her husband Matthew's arm.  She was a inch or so taller than Anastasia with long, curly deep red hair.  "With company like this, its worth the pain."

            "Still, I don't like being used as a symbol…"

            "Would you listen to him? Politics," Anastasia said in mock irritation to Melanie.  "All I wish is a good time with my husband and he is talking politics."

            Melanie smiled, playing along with Anastasia.  "Oh yes, I know, Kai was the same way."

            Kai was about to say something, but Alexandre, knowing his what his wife was trying to do simply shook his head and smiled.  "Don't Kai; it won't get you very far, lets just take our wives out onto the dance floor and revile in their company."

            Kai smiled, along with Matthew and Hohiro.  "Good idea."

            Alexandre smiled at his wife and led her out onto the floor.  The music changed to a slow waltz and the two began to spin around on the dance floor, Alexandre completely involved in his wife.  A thought passed through his mind as they danced.  "I will fight no more, forever," he whispered.

            "What was that?"

            "A statement said by an ancient General, I am beginning to think, maybe it is time I make it mine."

***

            Katrina Stiener tried to smile warmly as a buffoon of a noble who represented some world or another accosted her.  The man had thought he held her attention, but in reality, the Archon First Princess was scanning the gathering, picking out people and analyzing them for there threat, their usefulness, and just to simply scoff at the hideousness of some of the womanly attire.

            Just then a couple spun into her view on the dance floor, and she noarrowed her focus to them.  Duke Alexandre St. Blair and his wife were happily ignoring all other things beside themselves.  Katrina frowned as she remembered that Duke St. Blair had turned over all ruling power to his younger brother on Ark Angle, professing he wished to have no connections with his noble heritage.

            That was intriguing to Katrina.  Here was a man that could move easily through the circles of power, yet, he did not wish to.  He and his regiment, those silly Independence Guards were some of the most popular troops in the Federated Commonwealth.  To bad she thought, that they were so wrapped up in their silly traditions, and allied to the wrong Stiener-Davion.

            Katrina refrained from shaking her head as she noticed that St. Blair, instead of wearing the standard dress uniform for the AFFC, wore the horribly out of date, and in her mind all too silly dress uniforms from ancient Terra the regiment had adopted, even though Katrina had issued orders specifically that the unit switch to normal AFFC garb.  He was defying her by that simple act, and he knew it.

            Katrina quickly rummaged through her memory on any dirt her Intelligence Secretariat had found on St. Blair, and unfortunately, came up woefully empty handed.  The Secretariat had a special branch dedicated to investigating the command structures of not only her own military units, but those that had been loyal to her brother in the Commonwealth before she had taken the throne.  She then used that information to keep her unit commanders in check.  After all, if there was something to control a person, it was the knowledge you possessed that they did not wish you to.

            However, the Secretariat had come up blank on St. Blair.  His life was a private one, the only thing the IS knew about him was that he had a wife and daughter who he was rather feverishly devoted to, that they lived by simple means on the base quarters at on New Avalon, and that his wife was a doctor.  Katrina suspected, much to her disappointment, that there really was nothing else, and this fellow was a bit dull when it came to his private life.

            With that thought, Katrina turned her attention to his family.  Again, not much was known outside the official records, except his little girl was incredibly adorable, almost sickly so, and that she was following her parents in their interest in gymnastics.  Anastasia St. Blair was a doctor at NAIS, and Katrina focused in on her.  She was a tiny thing really, pretty in a rather plain sort of way, her dress, even tonight was absurdly simple, the dress she wore was cut high at the neck, low at the legs, a very conservative fashion, and was a color that matched her husband's uniform.  Katrina refrained from shaking her head.  The dress looked as if it had been solely chosen to compliment her husband's uniform.  She seemed to blend with him as they danced, only her blond-streaked red hair set her off, and that too, was styled rather simply and plainly on her head, with once again a simple bow.

            Then, it came to her, of coarse; a man who seemed supposedly not susceptible to corruption always had one flaw, one that no one would expect to be one.  St. Blair's flaw was his utter devotion to his family.  Control his family and you controlled him.  It was entirely all too simple now in Katrina's mind.  Yes, she thought, now I have you St. Blair, and I do not intend on letting you go.