Chapter Eight
Raven's Peak Caldera, Radstadt
Wolf Occupation Zone
18 March 3051
Raven's Peak wasn't quite an active volcano but nor was it entirely asleep. The circular caldera was a suitable size for this Circle of Equals and the surface was mostly solid enough to bear the weight of a 'Mech – although treacherous in places according to a local Scientist specialising in such matters. It was also very very warm.
With Cynthia Ward still on the Clan Home worlds – although she had been called out of semi-retirement to act as an on-hand commander for the remaining garrisons as more and more warriors were called forwards – the responsibilities for overseeing the Trial of Bloodright fell to Star Colonels John Ward and Lara Ward, depending on which of them could be spared from the fighting. Sometimes the pace of activity was such that neither Delta nor Alpha Galaxy could spare a Star Colonel, leading to long delays between rounds.
It was also the reason that Vlad and his opponent, Star Captain Nygel, would not be facing each other in frontline OmniMechs. The fighting was consuming the resources of the Clan with frightening speed, something Vlad had only become aware of when he took command of the Wolf Hunters. As such, the Khans had pressured the Bloodhouses to draw on alternative sources of equipment for the Trials, even something as sacred as the Trial of Bloodright. The two warriors had been equipped with two of the last Panther BattleMechs constructed at the factory on New Oslo.
The factory would hopefully soon be constructing more capable machines, although the rebuilding and upgrading of their equipment was going slowly. Meanwhile machines such as this, slow and armed with inferior weapons were filtering into regular use among the garrison units as more advanced units were hoarded by the frontline galaxies.
"Both of you have proven yourselves as exceptional warriors of Clan Wolf," announced John Ward from where his Ice Ferret was perched on the rim of the crater. Directly opposite the Oathmaster's position, a small group of Spheroids held cameras to record the Trial for posterity and for the enlightenment of the Clan's new subjects. While the thought had irritated Vlad at first, he accepted the merit in Ulric's argument: the spheroids would only become part of Clan Wolf by learning their ways and there was no better teacher than example.
"Either you Vlad or you, Nygel, would be a fine addition to the Bloodnamed of House Ward and to our Clan's Council. But only one of you, the best of you, will win that honour. And only combat can decide who is superior."
"Seyla," they both whispered from their cockpits.
"Skill, warriors! Let battle commence!"
The distance between the two Panthers was six hundred metres, just barely over the maximum effective range of the PPCs they both carried. Nygel closed in as rapidly as his 'Mech's engine could manage, bringing the range down immediately. Vlad instead moved along the side of the caldera to where his 'Mech's legs would be covered by a boulder that had tumbled down from the rim at some point in the past.
When they fired, Nygel's shot clipped the top of the boulder and scattered shards of rock across Vlad's armour, which was a negligible counter to the attenuated strength of the particle beam once it reached Vlad, searing armour above the missile launcher in the Panther's chest.
For his part, Vlad's shot would have scored directly on Nygel's missile launcher if the other warrior hadn't shielded it with his left arm. The shot stripped away all protection on the limb but it was of no real significance – there were no weapons in the arm to be damaged.
He's good, conceded the leader of the Wolf Hunters. But he substitutes aggression for cunning.
Vlad ducked his Panther to the left, waited for Nygel to adjust his aim and then fired his jump-jets right before the other warrior fired. The PPC's bolt crashed against the side of the caldera and the SRMs that Nygel had fired – somewhat optimistically – also missed.
Rather than firing back, Vlad continued to move from cover to cover along the edge of the caldera, a course that would take him under John Ward's position before much longer.
"Have you lost your courage!" challenged Nygel as he turned his 'Mech towards Vlad's new position. His PPC spoke again and this time it slashed into the right leg of Vlad's Panther, tearing away armour from knee down to ankle.
Vlad didn't reply verbally. He returned fire judiciously and his shot caught the other Panther squarely in the triangle between missile launcher, cockpit and the 'Mech's right shoulder. The shot didn't quite penetrate but it came close and any strike there now could cause crippling damage.
The two 'Mechs were now well within SRM range – little more than a hundred metres between them. Nygel closed the distance although he was proceeding more slowly now.
Has he remembered caution? No, I think not. Vlad broke from cover suddenly, charging into point-blank range before his opponent could adjust.
Nygel's PPC lashed out in what could have been a lethally effective shot with the weapon's he was used to – but Inner Sphere PPCs had focusing issues inside one hundred metres and were significantly less powerful. Although the shot caught Vlad's faceplate, it barely scratched the armour and the worst damage he took was sparks and a secondary monitor failing as the fuse blew.
Vlad fired his jump jets, too close to really clear Nygel's Panther, and one knee crashed against the overhanging armour above the other 'Mech's missile launcher.
The targeted Panther crashed backwards onto the caldera's floor while Vlad, expecting the collision, was able to land upright, although he had to drop his left arm to brace off.
At a range of less than ten metres he launched his SRMs into Nygel's Panther.
One missed entirely. Two crashed against the remaining armour and fire wreathed the Panther as the inferno SRMs splashed napalm across the already overheating 'Mech.
The final SRM hit the breach created by Vlad's earlier shot and spread the burning gel into the shoulder joint, the coolant system – and all too near to the missile launcher and reactor.
Nygel kicked the legs of the Panther, trying to get a foothold so he could brace to stand. One heel cracked the ground beneath it.
"You might want to refrain from doing that," Vlad warned darkly. "It seems you've found a weak spot in the caldera floor." He fired his SRMs again, sparing himself the heat build-up of the PPC which would cripple his own 'Mech as easily as it might Nygel's.
Crossing the central caldera, where the temperature was highest, firing his PPC constantly without realising that the ancient design of heatsinks would have barely coped with that in a more temperate environment. And now soaked in blazing napalm.
Nygel was a good warrior – but he was not a great warrior. And Vlad was more than merely a warrior. He was a leader. Now all he needed was the acclamation of his rights to Conal Ward's bloodname.
He received it as Nygel ejected, the canopy exploding outwards and the ejection seat arcing out across the caldera.
Vlad was tempted to raise his PPC and fire a snapshot to remove Nygel before the other warrior could become a problem. But he refrained. It would, perhaps, be problematic to have that deed be Clan Wolf's image towards their new subjects.
Besides, if Nygel kept being so reckless, the AFFC would undoubtedly take care of him for Vlad.
.o0o.
Forbidden City, Sian
Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation
18 March 3051
Kuan-Yin had her 'Mech moving a few seconds before her fiancé did – although he did have to get Sun-Tzu settled, which might explain it.
A warning light lit up and she glanced down, seeing two men entering through the palace entrance. Both carried what were evidently SRM launchers. So the alarm had been sounded – either that or someone was alerted by the slow opening of the doors that would allow their 'Mechs out into the palace grounds.
For a moment, Kuan-Yin wished she was in an older model of the Victor, the one with the anti-infantry machine guns. Still, if wishes were being granted she would have had others to take priority. The massive autocannon in her arm roared – that would alert anyone in the area but there was no more time – and the two men and their weapons simply disappeared under the brutal hammering of a weapon that would have eradicated even a Clan elemental.
Victor's red-white-and-blue Victor moved past her and out the door of the hanger. "You'd better talk to the Lancers," he advised over the channel still set up from their last training session. "I'll cover our position from here."
"That seems prudent," she agreed and switched to the local military net. House Imarra would likely be aware already of the problem since their infantry had been supposedly securing the palace. "Colonel Elias, this is Kuan-Yin Liao. Do you read me?"
"Your Excellency, I do. What is the situation at the palace?"
This could be ticklish. "Colonel, my mother is out of communications, possibly dead. In my brother's absence I hold the regency for St Ives, and thus for the Confederation as a whole. Rebel infantry and BattleMechs are inside the palace perimeter. We require the Red Heart Guards to subdue the rebels before they make further progress."
"My regiment are mobilizing now," he responded. "May I ask who is responsible for this rebellion?"
"According to my cousin, Sun-Tzu, his sister Kali has been implicated. It appears she has inherited her mother's ties to certain religious sects and to surviving elements of the Death Commando battalion."
"Thank you, your… Celestial Ladyship."
Kuan-Yin felt the tension in her shoulders relax, if only slightly. Being formally addressed by one of titles associated with the Chancellorship strongly suggested that Colonel Elias would be bringing the Red Lancers regiment, sometimes known as the Red Heart Guards for their role in defending the Chancellor, in on her side of this developing crisis.
"Will the St Ives Lancers be moving as well?"
"Yes, Colonel. To avoid confusion, I am ordering them to secure the city and the drop port. The palace itself is your objective."
"Thank you. Our first BattleMechs are on their way now."
"Carry on." She checked her surroundings again and then used the hand of her Victor to push a stack of spare armour plating across to block most of the door. Alright, the St Ives Lancers channel should be this one…
On her third attempt to reach the command post she managed to make contact with Major Bothel of the First Battalion. "Colonel Seng's quarters burned down this evening," he reported grimly. "No doubt part of the plot. Don't worry, your Excellency. We're on our way to the palace now."
"That is appreciated, however the Red Lancers are already on their way. I need the St Ives Lancers to secure the drop port and the rest of the city. It's likely that -"
"With all respect, your Excellency, it isn't clear that your mother is dead. Her safety, and yours, is our first priority."
"Our first priority is ensuring that the government of the Confederation doesn't fall into the hands of Kali Liao," she snapped. "If mother is alive she can reprimand me later. If she is not then Kai is the heir and I am simply a spare."
Bothel sighed. "Ma'am, the Red Lancers worked for Romano until just a few months ago."
"They also know the palace best. Major, we need to keep this matter from escalating. Kali will be moving to take control of other government buildings and she won't be limited by what she can smuggle through palace security. The St Ives Lancer's responsibility is to make sure her forces inside the Forbidden City don't deprive us of the instruments of government."
"This isn't a matter of St Ives against Sian any more, it is a matter of Capellans working together. Now, can I count on you for this?"
There was a hesitant silence and Kuan-Yin tried to recall the names of the other battalion commanders in the St Ives Lancers.
"Very well, Chancellor. Please remember that if we're spread out to secure the government buildings, we could be engaged piecemeal by… rogue elements."
"Since my fiancé and I have the only confirmed loyal 'Mechs in the palace at this time, I think you may presume that I am sensitive to the possibility of betrayal, Major Bothel. We shall all have to play our part. Out."
Speaking of other 'Mechs… Kuan-Yin eyed the two Vindicators and the Warhammer currently occupying bays inside the hanger. It really would be unfortunate if someone was to turn them against she and Victor. She placed her crosshairs across the knee of one Vindicator and triggered both lasers. The beams pulverised the protection on the limb but she had to shoot again before she was sure it was severed, crippling the medium 'Mech.
Deliberately, Kuan-Yin did the same to the other Vindicator and then turned her lasers on the Warhammer in the same way. "Victor, the Red Lancers are moving to join us and the St Ives Lancers are going to secure the other government buildings."
"I suppose that's politically sound, although I'd have preferred the other way around." She heard his autocannon firing.
Somewhat more faintly, she heard Sun-Tzu comment: "Be glad that there are two loyal regiments on hand."
"Yeah, you're not wrong," Victor admitted. "Now… sonofabitch, this guy's good."
"I'm on my way."
Kuan-Yin spared a kick for the Warhammer, finishing the job of breaking its leg, and then brought her Victor out onto the palace grounds.
Victor's 'Mech was soot-stained and parts of the armour had been fractured but it stood over a broken Phoenix Hawk and she could see a Raven, the core of the chest torn open by lasers and autocannon fire, fallen into one of the small ornamental lakes.
The current problem though was a Hermes II that was darting back and forth, sniping at Victor with its chest mounted autocannon. The much smaller 'Mech was relatively little threat to the towering assault 'Mech but it was an irritant and diversion from the more serious threat posed by a pair of Ostsol heavy 'Mechs tramping towards them with careless disregard for the carefully tended trees and shrubbery of the garden.
Kuan-Yin moved up to shield Victor's flank. "Ignore him for now," she advised. "He can't get around behind us now I'm here." Then she triggered everything she had at the leftmost Ostsol.
The lasers bit into the thick armour of the 'Mech's egg-like torso but didn't penetrate. Her autocannon chewed one arm apart entirely and while one of her missile launchers didn't lock, thus sparing her some of the heat build-up from her alpha strike, the other marked the Ostsol with four SRMs. The machine kept standing though – Ostsols were notoriously tough – and returned fire, concentrating its lasers on Victor.
She grimaced – that decision might be because Victor's 'Mech was nearest, or already damaged, or in the colours of a Davion Guards regiment… but it might also be orders to capture her alive. Which, judging by what she knew of Kali Liao, would mean a death full of torment.
"Be careful, Victor, you seem to be their main target."
"Well, it's a knight's job to protect his lady."
Kuan-Yin flushed but she kept her voice light as she fired again at the Ostsol, this time withholding one laser to let her 'Mech cool. "Oh, have you been knighted since we last met?"
"It's just a minor detail." Victor targeted the same Ostsol and between them they were finally breaching the thick armour. It wasn't stopping the Ostsol though and it was even moving to screen its comrade from any fire they threw at it, deliberately soaking up the hits to let the other Ostsol close in.
The Hermes II was moving around and if it got much further, Kuan-Yin wasn't going to be effectively screening Victor's rear armour any more. "I think we'd better go back-to-back. We're surrounded."
Victor angled his 'Mech obediently. "Uncle Morgan told me once that all that meant was having a really wide target selection."
"Well, he would know." This was the same 'Uncle Morgan' who had stormed this very palace in 3029, rescuing two Davion spies – Kuan-Yin's father and a man called Alex Mallory – and unexpectedly also allowing Candace Liao to escape to St Ives with Justin, leading indirectly to their current predicament.
Since backed against Victor she couldn't see the Ostsols, Kuan-Yin instead aimed her lasers at the Hermes II. Both missed as the 'Mech smoothly ducked. "Oh, I see what you mean."
This MechWarrior was willing to fire at her although the medium autocannon would have a hard job penetrating the Victor's armour.
"He must be one of the Death Commandos."
"Could be." All the enemy 'Mechs had a mix of black and green camouflage, which wasn't all that effective in palace grounds but also didn't betray any particular affiliation. She fired again and missed with one shot although a second slashed away one of the 'wings' on the head of the Hermes II, wrecking the sensor and communications systems that it contained.
Behind her, the first Ostsol finally fell. The second had worked its way close enough to open fire with its medium lasers as well as the two large ones. That would push its heat dangerously but in the short term it could do a lot of damage. "Switch?"
"Okay."
They both hit their jump jets in a move they'd practised in the simulators – each spinning up and to the right, landing where the other had been standing. Besides looking pretty, as Quintus had derisively described the move, Kuan-Yin and Victor had sufficiently different 'Mech handling styles to confuse an opponent – and of course, it let them shift a more damaged 'Mech like Victor's in this case, out of the heaviest fire.
Landing almost exactly where Victor had taken off from – exhaust from their jump-jets mingled between them – Kuan-Yin stabbed her autocannon out at the Ostsol and fired cluster rounds at it, following up with SRMs. None of the shots did very much damage but they all did some and it was also distracting.
The targeting computer picked out that the damage was slightly heavier on the right side of the Ostsol so she shifted her shots slight to that flank before firing her lasers. It was pleasantly effective and armour shattered under the shots - it really was like cracking open an egg, she thought wryly.
"Got him!" Victor hadn't dropped the Hermes II – she could still see it was upright, but he had managed to land some more shots at least and the lasers on a Victor were far more damaging than the autocannon that the other MechWarrior was working with.
Finally overcoming whatever reluctance it had to firing on her 'Mech, the Ostsol dragged Kuan-Yin's attention back to him with all four of its forward lasers. The salvo left it relatively sluggish but in general it was more agile than her Victor anyway.
She opened up with high-explosive rounds in her autocannon and the shells ripped open the already damaged right flank of the Ostsol, depriving it of half its lasers. The 'Mech fell but it clearly wasn't a kill – it was still trying to right itself.
Checking for more targets before she advanced to finish it off, Kuan-Yin saw an indicator coming in from above.
"Fighters!" she shouted, backing up –
- and then lasers lanced down and stabbed the left side of the Ostsol. If that hadn't finished it off, the barrage of autocannon fire that eviscerated the centre chest certainly managed to.
Two Transit aerospace fighters in the colours of the Red Lancers swept across the sky, the powerful ground-attack fighters breaking formation to sweep outwards and look for more targets.
"Oh no you don't!"
She looked around and saw the Hermes II had broken into a run for the edge of the palace, clearly recognising that this cause was lost. Victor's shots tore into its rear and Kuan-Yin added her own to the barrage.
The explosion of the 'Mech's ammunition bins punctuated the moment, as Red Lancer 'Mechs started to spread out through the palace grounds.
.o0o.
Wolf Hunters Headquarters, Radstadt
Wolf Occupation Zone
21 March 3051
"Star Colonel Ward."
There was a childish part of Vlad that he suspected would never be tired of hearing himself be called that – well, the last part anyway. He certainly would have no complaint if… no, when… the time came to be addressed as Galaxy Commander or Khan.
"Star Captain Ranna," he greeted her. "I do not recall any scheduled business this morning."
"There has been a shipment, sir. One that requires your personal attention."
Vlad eyed her ill-concealed smile and then closed down the files he was working on. Honestly, there was relatively little for him to do at the moment – the Wolf Hunters were in reserve while elements of Alpha and Gamma Galaxies fought on Kandis and every material need that was likely to be actually provided had arrived while he was fighting his Trial of Bloodright.
That only left only training and preparation to be done so his work had been nothing more earth-shaking than the latest Watch reports on the strength of the Federated Commonwealth's touman. He suspected, reading between the lines, that the interrogators were still wringing more details out of Marshal Richard Steiner.
"Alright, Ranna, where is this shipment?"
She led him down to the 'Mech hangers where a disproportionate number of the Cluster appeared to have gathered, including more than half the Elementals who would usually have little or no business in this part of the base.
Was the shipment going to be the target of some informal Trial of Possession between his subordinates? Vlad's pace quickened. The last thing he needed was to spoil his ascent by having to report a melee between his warriors had reduced the Wolf Hunters' readiness…
Then he saw what had arrived and came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening.
Ranna turned as she realised he'd stopped. She wasn't even trying to hide a proud smile. "Star Colonel Vladimir Ward, I have been instructed to inform you that this BattleMech is assigned specifically to you with the compliments of Khan Ulric Kerensky and saKhan Charles Dinour."
There was only one type of BattleMech that merited that sort of formal assignment.
The Great Father, Aleksandr Kerensky, the last commanding general of the SLDF and the father of the Founder of the Clans, had through his long career chosen to pilot an Orion BattleMech. Early in their history, Clan Wolf had developed an upgraded model of the Orion, one scrupulously kept abreast of all technological developments and defended from all attempts by the other Clans at any cost necessary.
The Orion was no longer just a BattleMech, it was a symbol of Clan Wolf's special ties to the Founder. Not even Clan Coyote, who could boast the right to use genetic material from the Founder's brother Andery, were permitted access to an Orion BattleMech. Only a tiny number existed and they were only ever assigned to warriors who had been deemed worthy of promotion to serve in a firstline unit.
Given to the commander of a unit, particularly one that had been derided for its personnel and second-hand equipment…
"Was there any other message?" Vlad asked in an almost reverent voice.
Ranna nodded. "The Wolf Hunters cluster is hereby assigned to Beta Galaxy, under the command of Galaxy Commander Erik Kerensky…"
"There is more, quiaff?"
"Aff." Her voice almost trembled. "We are advised that Beta Galaxy will be returning to Skokie, to complete what Khan Radick began: the conquest of that world and the defeat of the Black Widow."
The hanger exploded in cheers. Vlad himself clenched his fists in anticipation although he also cautioned himself a moment later. With Charles Dinour at their head, Delta Galaxy was no longer the centre of Crusader sentiment within Clan Wolf – or perhaps given Ulric's earlier words to him about the end of that particular issue, the centre of opposition to Ulric's rather liberal policies towards the Inner Sphere.
Beta Galaxy, rebuilt after earlier losses and under the command of a sibko-rival to Ulric was the other stronghold of loyal opposition to the Khan… and a bloody campaign on Skokie could thin their ranks before that became a problem. Once again, Ulric was bargaining sharply to make maximum use of every development.
"That is good news," he declared loudly once the initial wave of excitement had died down. "However, it does not defer this afternoon's drills. Star Captain Carew, are your pilots ready?"
"Ready and hungry, Vlad." Carew caught the irritated look and added: "Ward," slightly belatedly.
"Good. We'll be running air defence drills and I want two of your stars to course us as we cross the mountains and then loop back to launch a simulated attack on this base. The third star will be handling our air defence and I want this to be an endurance event – each fighter killed in simulation from each side will return and refuel here – and then re-join the battle. Any BattleMech or Elemental logged as destroyed on the march will rally here and then reactivate to serve as the defence force."
"So the more of you we kill, the better the defence at the end of the day. I like it. We're going to burn a lot of fuel though."
"Hydrogen is one thing we do not need to ship from the Home Worlds, Carew."
"True. When do you want to begin?"
"Just about the same moment I have my data loaded onto my new 'Mech," Vlad informed him and beckoned to the chief technician.
Carew whistled for attention and then gestured to those of his Trinary that were in the hanger. "Flight suits on and head for the ready room. We have an unexpectedly heavy day ahead of us."
.o0o.
Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
22 March 3051
"When I drew up that treaty with Sun-Tzu, I didn't expect we'd be activating it in less than a year." Hanse drained the contents of the crystal tumbler in his hand and then looked back out the window to where an official limousine was carrying Justin Allard away from the Castle – and temporarily away from his duties as Minister of Intelligence – so he could tend to his grieving family.
Melissa was merely sipping from her own tumbler, although the contents were from the same bottle of Valencian Bourbon that Hanse's did. "Mother told me when I was a child how dangerous politics could get. I don't think I understood that until Patrick Kell died for me."
"I had the luxury of ignoring it until Ian died." Hanse walked away from the window and refilled his glass. "I was lucky. At least Victor and Kuan-Yin are a little older than you were."
"And they have each other." She saw her husband's eyebrow twitch. "Not that you did a bad job supporting me, dear, but you were on Northwind – it was at least a week before you could offer me a shoulder to cry on."
"I'm very sorry I didn't warp the laws of time and space to be there for you immediately."
"I know you would have if you could – and that does matter, Hanse. There wasn't really anyone there for you, was there?"
The First Prince looked at her steadily in answer before putting his glass down untouched. It was sufficient reply. "We may have dodged a bullet with Sun-Tzu too. That young man is very sharp."
"That's my own impression too. I'm not sure we're out of the woods there though – it was very wise of Kuan-Yin to insist he accompany her to St Ives to assist in integrating the two governments. Leaving him on Sian would have been a recipe for trouble – with his sister dead, he's now the sole heir to Romano's political legacy if he wants it."
"You could be right there. But that same potential could make him immensely valuable to the Federated Commonwealth. We both know that Victor's more soldier than he is statesman, at least at this point. He's proven he can handle himself in a crisis but he's only going to benefit by having a strong political ally at his left hand. I know we've been looking at Kathy to support him and Kuan-Yin is evidently good for him, but…"
"But they're both women?"
"I'm not a misogynist, dear."
"No, but there are some things that men find it easier to handle with other men than they do with women. And vice versa, of course."
Hanse rolled his eyes. "Is Kathy bringing her schoolwork home with her again? Last time we had a chat, she was practically trying to diagnose my mental state."
"I'm glad she's found a course she likes, and serving in the medical corps is a good compromise between the need for her to serve in the AFFC and not wishing to serve in one of the combat arms."
"Yes, but psychiatry?"
His wife was evidently laughing at him. "You just don't like the idea of her earnestly asking young soldiers about their feelings."
"I know it would have done a lot for my morale when I was that age." Hanse went back to his glass. "You're set on going to St Ives as well?"
"Yes. I can't leave immediately or I'd arrange to travel with Justin, but I think we owe it to their family that one of us should be at the funeral. And since I need to go back to Tharkad to deal with the Estates General it only makes sense for me to be the one travelling."
"It feels odd for you to be the one heading towards a warzone."
"Oh Hanse." She hugged him. "You know the Clans aren't within a hundred light years of Tharkad. There's as little risk to me as there would have been from the Combine or the League. And someone has to sell the Estates General on disbanding in favour of this new… are we calling it a Senate now?"
Hanse nodded. "It's got some good historical precedents to it and lets the members call themselves Senators, which should be bolstering for their egos."
"I haven't generally found that the Estates General need their egos pandered to."
"No, but they can still be led by it. Democracy, it's a great idea in theory…"
"You, my dear, are a cynic."
"I'm also a historian."
"Are you planning on abdicating in Victor's favour and teaching? Because otherwise politics take precedence and we really need the public behind us. The Clans may have been slowed but the war has been going on for more than a year and for all we've hurt them, they haven't been stopped."
Hanse sighed. "I thought we might have a reprieve but I have to agree. Ardan's informed me that we may be able to hold onto Tamar and a connecting salient, but that it's only a matter of time until otherwise we're forced back to Defence Line Delta." He clenched the fist not wrapped around his glass. "I can practically feel their supply lines stretching but it's not time to counterattack yet."
"You're sure? It would really help if we could show the Estates General a cheap victory or two." She met his eyes. "And I do mean cheap – you know I don't intend to risk a bloodbath just to score a point, but if we could take even one world back it could make a significant difference."
Her husband hesitated. "I'm not going to lie. We could take a world back, at least temporarily. I don't think it's the right move but we do have the reserve regiments in Donegal March. They don't have many upgraded 'Mechs yet, but tanks and aerospace are easier. It would be possible to put a task force on somewhere like Blackjack – reasonably important world politically but our intel suggests the Jade Falcons haven't garrisoned it all that heavily."
"The trouble is, they would be able to move troops back to retake it. Worse, we'd be poking them in the nose with the fact we have significant troops in the Donegal March. That might provoke them to shift their axis of advance towards Tharkad and around our current defensive line – which we've got the troops for but perhaps not the supply lines. I doubt they'd make it a major push, but even a couple of clusters running serious raids would have a dozen worlds demanding support – and we don't have the sort of defensive preparations in the Donegal March that we do in Tamar."
Melissa sighed. "I suppose you're right. But when the time comes?"
"When the time comes, I want to smash them once and for all. We'll want to teach the Clans a lesson they can't possibly forget about the consequences of striking at the Federated Commonwealth. If possible, I want to cripple their military potential to the point their rivals in the Clan home worlds tear them to pieces."
"Good." The resolve on Melissa's face would have startled many foreign analysts who considered her less militant than her husband. "I just hope that happens before we have to start fortifying the Draconis March."
"The Draconis March has been fortified for generations. Preparing them for the Clans was relatively easy – the hard part was convincing the Sandovals that we shouldn't launch our own invasion of the Combine while they were distracted."
"And have they accepted that?" she asked.
"The argument that 'whoever loses on Luthien, we win' carried a certain amount of weight." Hanse shrugged. "It's only a matter of time – the Smoke Jaguars landed on Cyrenaica last week and it won't hold out much longer. That puts them only one jump away from Luthien."
"Within a month then?"
"If the Jaguars have received the same level of reinforcements as the other Clans and assuming they're not planning on bypassing Luthien for some reason – it would be odd but they are odd at times – then yes."
"And will it fall?"
"That, my dear, is the million kroner question. The DCMS will fight like devils to defend it – and Theodore's moved some significant regiments there. I think it'll be the largest battle so far in the entire invasion."
"I hear a 'but'."
"Put Theodore in charge and I'd give them slightly better than average odds of repelling the Clans. I strongly suspect we've underestimated him all along. But at the same time, I can't see Takashi not insisting on taking the lead. And our last report on Theodore doesn't even have him on Luthien yet – he's visited Dieron, Benjamin and Galedon V to get the Warlords in line but after leaving Galedon…"
"We don't know where he is?"
"I don't think a war with the Combine back in the thirties would have gone as well as most of us assumed. And given his last back-channel message, I'm very glad he's alive right now. He has a flexibility that Takashi lacks. If anyone can save the Combine then he can."
"And if he can't?"
Hanse shrugged. "Then James Sandoval will be racing the Clans to devour what's left."
.o0o.
Nadir Jump Point, Castor
Terran March, Lyran Commonwealth
1 April 3051
There was nothing suspicious about the cross border transmission between Castor, on the Federated Commonwealth side of the border, and Bordon on the Free Worlds League's side. The two realms were at peace, after all, and there was a modest degree of cross-border trade – most of it was even legal. Castor had been part of the League up until the Fourth Succession War and who knew what might happen.
Even the contents of the transmission were entirely innocuous. But the recipient, alerted by the simple arrival of a message from that source, made a telephone call to his actual superior (as opposed to his apparent employer in a minor interstellar trading firm) and that superior sent a signal.
As a result, just twenty hours after four Merchant-class jumpships had arrived in Castor, a fifth jumpship appeared. This one was a Monolith-class, capable of singlehandedly carrying more dropships than all four of the Merchants. It was mostly unladen however and there was no obvious IFF.
Captain Samra Ghani, FWLN carefully avoided leaning forwards in his chair as the elderly but well maintained Achilles-class assault dropship Trojan detached from its parent jumpship. Along with a pair of smaller Avenger-class dropships this was the most significant purely naval operation the FWLN had attempted since the Third Succession War. None of the wars since then had required this specific skillset and there was no point making his crew nervous.
"Alright, give them our first message," he ordered.
Carefully constructed to give the appearance of being from a Clan warrior – the cover story for this operation – the message, in simple terms demanded that the dropships detach from their parent vessels and instead dock with Ghani's transport. Since there were eight dropships to capture, not six, that would be a small problem but SAFE had thought ahead in preparing the messages and there was another that would cover the circumstance by demanding that one of the Merchants surrender so Ghani could use it to transport two of his assault dropships back to the selected rendezvous.
The jumpship crew would even be released with their ship after that – unlike the dropships they were civilians not soldiers and they wouldn't know where Ghani's forces had departed to after the rendezvous.
Unfortunately for someone – and Ghani wasn't entirely sure who yet – the transport crews had their own ideas.
"They are refusing to comply, sir." The communications officer checked the reply carefully. "The convoy's senior officer has a few things to say about pirates daring to try this so deep inside the Federated Commonwealth."
"Pick a suitably irate reply for our electronic Star Colonel and remind the jumpship crews that they aren't combatants and that their safety lies in not having dropships docked with them if shots have to be fired. You do have something for that?"
"Aye, sir. Several variations on irate and two for the warning. Should I use the more strongly worded warning?"
"No, we're supposed to be Clan Wolf, who are allegedly semi-civilised. We can always upgrade our threats if need be, but backtracking would look odd."
Ghani watched the jumpships and dropships grow as he closed in. "Confirm fighter readiness," he ordered calmly. "But don't launch – they'll be even more suspicious once they realise our fighters don't look much like Clan models."
"Sir!"
He turned to look at the Comms officer. "Yes?"
"Sir, I have a Kommandant Gearing of the Federated Commonwealth, signalling that he considers the escort under his command more than sufficient to deal with us. He, uh…"
"Put it on the speakers."
The comm officer flipped a switch and a lightly accented male voice – from somewhere in the central Crucis March, Ghani suspected, that being the home of the appalling Anglo-French patois that the Davions considered a language – advised: "I suggest you consider very carefully that the legal penalties for threatening an act of piracy are significantly less than those for actually carrying out an attack – however ineptly. At the very least, if I have to engage you and you survive, you're going to be liable for the cost of my fuel expenditure."
"He could be bluffing," the weapons officer said from the other side of the cramped command deck.
"Or they might have an assault dropship of their own. Do we have sensor readings on them?"
"Seven spheroids, one aerodyne. The aerodyne is smallest, under three thousand tons by estimate – probable Gazelle. All but one of the spheroids are around ten or eleven thousand tons – likely Mules – and the last one is the largest, over fifty thousand tons – pretty definitely a Mammoth."
"Hmm. That aerodyne could be a Leopard CV – it's on the small side but six fighters would be more than we have aboard."
"No sir, we're quite sure – the armour layout of a Leopard is quite distinctive. The aerodyne is definitely too angular and the wing arrangement is wrong."
Ghani scratched his chin. "The bluff theory is very appealing."
"Two dropships detaching!"
"Which ones?"
"Spheroids, mid-size. They're…" The sensor operator squinted. "Shit!"
"They're what?"
"Not Mules, sir. Overlords."
"Shit." Ghani considered the odds. Each of the Overlords was armed and could be carrying six aerospace fighters. Twelve on two would be long odds for their own fighters, although the assault dropships would even this up. Probably.
Unfortunately it was too late to abort. It would take days to recharge the drive on their jumpship so it was fight or surrender and surrender would have all sorts of unfortunate consequences.
"Launch fighters. Prepare for a warning shot across their bows." Given the short ranges, they hadn't built up a substantial velocity so there would be no need to slow down to practical combat velocities. "They'll have flank armaments and we don't so a head on engagement is as good as any for this."
"What should we use for warning shots, LRMs?"
"Yes, hold back the autocannon for now."
Volleys of LRMs streaked out from all three FWLN dropships and detonated just short of the two Overlords.
"Any response?"
The comm officer cupped his headset and listened. Then he shook his head. "It's Gearing again. He says: 'you were warned'."
"Fighter launches!" called the sensor officer. "…odd."
"What?"
"The angle is wrong for an Overlord's flight decks and… they're heading right for us." She checked her figures. "Too fast… they aren't fighters! Brace for missiles!"
The salvo of missiles slashed past the Trojan and two-thirds of them crashed into the Malta, stationed on her left wing. The assault dropship had more armour than any mere transport but not enough to shrug off impacts like that. The little dropship was still under power but as Ghani looked at the visual display it was evident that little – if any – of the right wing's armament would be in use.
"They're really launching fighters now – big ones. Probably Stukas."
"Launch ours and return fire." Ghani checked his safety harness. "Signal for Malta and Kursk to engage the fighters, we'll take on the dropships."
The AFFC aerospace fighters formed up into two squadron-sized formations, sweeping out to engage the two smaller dropships which had to turn away from the Overlords in order to keep their weapons on targets. Ghani was about to turn his attention back to the Overlords – with the heavy and diverse nature of his dropship's forward weapons the protection of the transports should be eaten through quite quickly – when Malta's icon simply vanished from the display.
"Sir, Malta is gone – those fighters tore it to shreds."
"Dammit, what sort of pilots are they sending out? Shift our fighters to cover the flank." They'd be killed but what choice did he have? The fighters were already moving past the wreck of the Malta to engage the Trojan and while the Achilles was much larger than an Avenger, it put most of that tonnage into massive engines, not more armour. "Bring the drives up to maximum power – if we blow past the Overlords it'll take the fighters time to catch up – we've got a higher delta than a Stuka does."
"That'll leave the Kursk exposed, sir."
Ghani glared at the weapons officer. "I'm aware of that, Lieutenant." This wasn't about the mission any more, it was about survival. With no mother-ships left, and the Trojan amid the transports, the Stukas would have profoundly limited options.
The drives flared to life and Ghani – along with the rest of the crew – gasped for breath as they underwent the sort of acceleration even most fighter pilots rarely endured.
"K-…" The sensor operator inhaled and tried again as the two Overlords flashed past, weapons firing but failing to track the other dropship. "K-F signature. Due… due aft!"
Forcing his hand to move, Ghani brought a rear camera's view up on the main display. There was nothing at first – no surprise, the signature would precede the arrival of the jumpship by seconds or even minutes. "Flip the ship!" he spat.
Manoeuvring thrusters roared and he heard someone lose their lunch as the Trojan spun sharply through space, reversing the direction of the vessel and bringing forward weapons to bear as they slowed. "Cut drives to one gee! Fire as you bear."
The Overlords were also turning, probably to bring those brutal missile launchers to bear, and weapons tore into the flanks. The screen had maintained tracking as they turned, switching from screen to screen and they could see armour peeling away but somehow there was always more behind it.
"We should be breaching them," called the weapons officer. "Why aren't our guns getting through?"
"S-sir." No guesses needed for who had thrown-up, the evidence was all down the front of the comm officer's jumpsuit. "They must have added armour as well as missile tubes. They could be as well armoured as we are."
Then we're pretty much screwed, Ghani thought but didn't say.
A surge of electromagnetics sent static through the display for an instant and when it was clear, they could see the source of the K-F signature.
Four rounded engine pods to the rear, separated from the blunt nose by more than six hundred metres of armour and weapons. An asymmetric sensor tower reared up out of one side of the forward hull. Opposite it, the sunburst-fist of the Federated Commonwealth
Everyone on the bridge – everyone on the entire dropship was a naval professional. Even if they'd never expected to see one, they had studied the records of the great combat jumpships which had once dominated the space lanes before time and the attrition of war reduced the great fleets to scattered handfuls of dropships once considered barely worth mentioning as escorts.
"A Lola-class destroyer… they have a warship."
"Get this on general broadcast." Ghani gripped the sides of his chair as he saw the flare of light that marked the final end of the dropship Kursk. "Every view we have of that thing – transmit unencrypted and on every frequency." He looked at the comm officer unflinchingly. "We're going to die. But if we make this public – if we let everyone know - then our comrades will know what killed us."
The man nodded. "Kommandant Gearing is hailing us. He… probably isn't saying anything important."
"Keep firing."
"Aye, sir."
The huge ship – and to think that the leviathan-like mass would have been dwarfed by a SLDF battleship? – hung arrogantly in space, practically reeking of the assurance that nothing could or would survive at the jump-point without its consent.
Ghani zoomed in the display as close as he could, maximum magnification showing a name painted astern of the sunburst-fist. FCS Loyalty. Hah. As he manipulated the camera down the flank of the ship he saw turrets turning until their blunt muzzles reciprocated the angle of the camera.
Unlocking his harness, the captain rose to his feet and with his right hand saluted. "Sailors, it's been an honour."
The last thing to go through Samra Ghani's head – and the rest of the command deck – was one of five half-ton slugs of nickel-iron that tore their ship into so many tons of shredded metal.
.o0o.
Avalon City, New Avalon
Crucis March, Federated Suns
7 April 3051
"Now they know we're not fooling around."
Morgan Hasek-Davion frowned slightly at his uncle's words. "Thomas Marik?"
"And ComStar. It's possible they weren't behind this but they certainly know about it now and they must be having litters of kitten on Terra."
"I'm not sure that's an immediate concern, Hanse."
"I'm not sure either – that's what bothers me." The First Prince looked at his tall, lean nephew and felt a surge of affection for the younger man. Morgan's father had been a constant dagger at his back but the son was perhaps the most loyal of his officers. If Hanse had fathered no children, Morgan would have been a worthy heir – not least because he would have fought like a lion to avoid having to take the throne. "Thomas Marik is somewhat predictable. Takashi Kurita is eminently predictable and while his son is not, we at least know where he stands on this matter."
"At a price."
"It's a price I'm willing to pay for his alerting us that ComStar invited he and Thomas Marik to strike at our logistics. It took us more than a decade to develop the capability to build these weapons in any quantity – reverse-engineering them without the help of the Dragoons won't be any easier for the Combine. In practical terms, the best thing Theodore can do with them is fit them to his samurai's 'Mechs – and even then he asked for guns and ammunition, not for the armour, the structural materials or the advanced heatsinks that it possible to mount them in credible numbers. The DCMS can get as much by overrunning a Clan supply depot."
"Knowing that Theodore Kurita is going to make rational decisions – at least by my standards – is priceless. It means that there will be a Draconis Combine to cover our flank as long as it's practical to do so. Granted, it might not be much more than Galedon District, but that isn't a concern."
"I'm not sure I follow that logic. The Coordinator would fight to the last man for every world but Theodore could – if he's ruthless enough, and I think he is – pull the majority of the DCMS out of the Clan's way and he'd still have a powerful military, right on our border while we're distracted by the Clans."
Hanse grinned. "Sure. Oh, he'd make some effort as a matter of face, but he might do that. But he wouldn't use those regiments on us because sooner or later the Clans could change course and decide they want New Samarkand or some other world. While the Clans are a threat on this scale, he isn't going to jog our elbow because he knows that whether he likes it or not (and it must stick in his craw) that the Federated Commonwealth is the only state that can stop the Clans as a whole."
Morgan nodded grudgingly. "Cold blooded self-interest."
"I'll take that over hot-blooded self-delusion." Hanse sighed. "You know I have no real quarrel with ComStar."
That got an incredulous laugh. "You're kidding, right?"
"I really don't care if they control Terra. They're welcome to it. They can run their HPGs and I'd even leave them a commercial monopoly on that. If they just stick to their stated purposes – communication, neutral venue for negotiations, arbitrating mercenary disputes, shipping, charitable works… Better than ninety-nine percent of what they do are things I have no quarrel with."
"But there's that fraction of one percent."
"If they had left my scientists alone I wouldn't have spent a fortune – a fortune – trying to root out their influence. For some reason, Myndo Waterly and her predecessor – predecessors, probably but Tiepolo's as far back as I have personal involvement – just have to keep playing games. It's a distraction we don't need but they don't seem to grasp that."
"I think they've got a pretty good grasp on the key issue – at least from their perspective."
Hanse sighed. "Go on."
"Hanse, the one thing that you won't let them keep is the one thing they treasure most."
"And that would be?"
Morgan leant forwards. "Three words: being politically relevant."
"Hmm." Hanse went back to his seat. "Alright, you have a point there. My ego is pierced."
"That's about the size of it. Almost of those benign, beneficial roles ComStar fills are a very soft form of power. It gives them leverage but only used with some care. But besides all of that, they're a government. They rule Terra - and Mars and Venus too. What government can you think of that was satisfied with only having soft power? They have the coercive authority of a throne on those worlds, the oldest worlds in the Inner Sphere and arguably the centre of human civilisation even today. Could you spend your life practically in eye-range of the First Lord's throne and not at least fantasize about Terra once again being the throne world of all humanity?"
"I think a succession of my ancestors – among other dynasties – managed to dream of that without ever setting foot on Terra. Okay, so ambition is infinite. Fair enough. Maybe I'm getting old and naïve."
"Or more mature."
"Thanks."
"Well, you decided that other things were more important than ambition – don't forget, I've got access to all the plans you had for invading the Draconis Combine and breaking their industrial base around Dieron. It would have worked – you could have probably convinced everyone that we'd need the factories against the Clans. But you took the longer view and instead of trying for new conquests…"
"Morgan… I get enough positive reinforcement from my wife."
The Marshal threw back his head and laughed. "Okay. Okay, I'm not a threat to your marriage, uncle. You've thrown your life – and the lives of pretty much everyone else in the upper levels of our government - into preparing for the Clans and the possibility they'd sweep across the entire Inner Sphere. But for the First Circuit, they're new to that view. The Clans aren't anywhere near Terra."
"For them, the driving issue is still that we're messing with technology that their doctrine tells them will be used irresponsibly. Let's face it, there's a certain amount of historical evidence of that. They probably can't even conceive of how irrelevant they are in the eyes of the Clans' grand council. Their Precentor Martial has been working on them for almost a year and he's still only got half-hearted agreements in place. The Clans simply don't care – chances are that as soon as they're on Terra, they'll simply replace ComStar's leaders with their own civilians and order them to reorganise on Clan lines. And they think that'll work."
"They may have learned better, by the time they get there."
Morgan shrugged. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather they didn't get that far. It would indicate most of our stratagems have failed. Not that ComStar would thank us." He frowned. "And going back to our original topic, what do you intend to do to Thomas Marik for his part in this?"
"Well as a friendly neighbour I should probably let him know that pirates claiming to be from the Clans tried unsuccessfully to strike at one of our shipping routes only to fall prey to the local patrols. He'll know we suspect, but even if we had captives or other evidence that he was behind this, there's nothing to gain from making accusations – he's down by three expensive dropships and knows any weakness in our border defences exist only on his wishful thinking. He's not the sort of man who throws good money after bad."
.o0o.
ComStar Compound, Hilton Head Island
North America, Terra
11 April 3051
The First Circuit stood in a circle on the marble floor of the meeting room. By ancient tradition, they did not sit during their gatherings – something that was harder on the older end of their membership.
"I was expecting that Precentor Seneca would be here to report on this matter," Sharilar Mori enquired diplomatically as they watched the hologram of FCS Loyalty once again obliterate the FWLN dropship squadron.
"If you would like to see the report he gave me, you are entirely welcome to view the holographic records." Myndo Waterly's eyes flashed dangerously at her long-time ally. "It was distressingly inadequate. Under the circumstances, he has taken leave of his post at the head of ROM in order to enter into a spiritual retreat."
"Ah. The Tierra del Fuego facility?"
Waterly's sharp nod answered both the literal and the implied question. ComStar did maintain facilities for more junior members of their Order to retreat to if they were faced with a spiritual crisis – generally located on worlds rendered barren by the savagery of the Amaris Civil War or the early Succession Wars. Hours of prayer interrupted by hard but limited labour in the ongoing efforts to clear the corpse-ridden cities and salvage anything that remained of value after the passage of centuries usually either convinced the adepts of ComStar's position or that they themselves lacked the fortitude to face the trials placed upon the Order.
Those who had reached more senior positions of trust when they faced doubts on their own part or their superiors as to their fitness to serve would instead be sent to Tierra del Fuego for re-education. Unfortunately, the products of Tierra del Fuego were usually no longer fit for positions of great responsibility, but the rule of three entire worlds and administration of facilities all across (and even beyond) the Inner Sphere was a mission that called for an almost unending number of bureaucratic drones.
"I have my own views on the most pressing discoveries from this. However, in the meantime I have called Precentor Beresick – one of the Precentor Martial's senior officers in the warship arm of the ComGuards - to present his department's analysis."
The doors to the chamber opened to admit the officer in question, wearing the most formal uniform of the ComGuards. Even so, in comparison to the crimson robes of the gathered Precentors, he cut an unassuming figure. "Primus, honoured Precentors, it is my honour to serve you," he greeted them.
"The Blessings of Blake be upon you, Precentor Beresick." Myndo Waterly gestured to the hologram. "Please advise us of what new light this information casts upon the question of House Davion's warship programme."
Beresick accepted a control wand and froze the image.
"Most obviously, this vessel is clearly derived from the Lola-class of fast destroyers that were employed in great numbers by the Star League and before them by the Terran Hegemony. On one level this is reassuring as it suggests that the Federated Commonwealth are reconditioning salvaged hulls rather than building new vessels. Unfortunately, a closer examination of the details demonstrates that this is overly optimistic"
"What do you mean?"
Six points on the hull of the destroyer lit up. "If you look here you can see dropships detaching from the hull of the Loyalty. While the dropships are a concern in and of themselves, the relevance here is that no previously encountered version of the Lola-class in the Star League's day or examples now owned by ComStar or the Clans, has any jump-collars that would allow the transport of the dropships. It's certainly possible to modify a ship to add them but it involves some fairly fundamental alterations to the jump-core itself – you must remember that the collars aren't just docking ports but also the equipment to extend the parent vessel's jump-field around dropships of various sizes and shapes. Our own shipyard personnel at Titan have confirmed that any shipyard capable of such modifications must also be capable of constructing entirely new jump-cores and by extension, the warships to house them. It's therefore almost certain that even if the AFFC may not be building entirely new warships they must have the basic capability to do so."
"And they might be?"
"I'm not an intelligence specialist, your Excellency, but I was consulted by Precentor Seneca's analysts on this matter and so far as I am aware, no clear answer has been determined. My understanding is that all but two known shipyards have been eliminated from consideration as possible sites for construction and reconstruction."
"Quite so. The list has narrowed to Alarion in the Donegal March and Galax in the Crucis March."
Beresick nodded. "The Loyalty's capabilities are in the expected vein of developments based on previous reports – there has been severe rationalisation of the armament, which implies relatively limited capacity to construct naval-grade weaponry. This is probably intentional – a limited selection of weapons simplifies logistics considerably."
"Does it reduce their offensive capability? After all, I'm given to understand that a few dropships are hardly a fair test of this thing's capabilities," enquired the Precentor for Tharkad.
"It's hard to say with regard to other ships but not in this case, at least." Beresick brought the display around to show the Precentors the flank of the Loyalty and then the same view of a similar vessel. "We have our own Lola-class ships and this is the block-III armament used around the end of the Star League and still in use by our own fleet – and with very slight variations by the Clans. As you can see, the main ballistic weapon mounts have been reduced from eight to five but by replacing the autocannon with heavy naval gauss rifles, the 37% reduction in weapon mounts actually almost doubles the effective firepower since the rifles are around three times as destructive."
"Also the secondary armament of naval lasers replaces the type-45 lasers on the flanks with the same type-55 lasers we only use in the forward and aft batteries. It's harder to judge the missile tubes but we suspect that the White Shark and Barracuda capital missiles have been replaced with the heavier Kraken missiles we know that the new assault dropship variant of the Overlords used."
"You said that those were a problem of their own?" asked Sharilar Mori.
"Quite correct. The implication that the AFFC have developed an entire class of heavy assault dropships to support and even to substitute for their warship fleet strongly implies that they are taking a very long view not only of warships operating on their own but of a mutually supporting fleet and the naval infrastructure that supports it. They've even taken steps to address concerns the SLDF noted during the Amaris Civil War but didn't manage to address before the Exodus."
Precentor Tharkad tilted his head. "What do you mean?"
Beresick indicated where autocannon turrets had been removed from the Loyalty. "I mean these smaller weapon arrays replacing the original weapon mounts. SLDF doctrine counted on dropships and fighters to keep enemy fighters away from their warships. As they found out engaging Periphery pilots and unmanned drones of the Hegemony's Space Defence Systems, this wasn't always successful. These turrets are too small to determine their exact armament but it appears that the AFFC have decided that their warships should have suitable weapons to engage fighters without being dependent on their escorts."
"Can we refit our own ships in the same way?" Myndo Waterly's voice was calm as she asked the same question she'd already asked in private earlier in the day.
"The shipyards at Titan are completely capable of the full refits and our mobile shipyards can at least refit the more superficial changes to armament. However, we would also need to construct several of the necessary components as we don't have them in stock. I've discussed this with a few of our naval engineers and it would be six months before we could begin any major refits and we would be looking at a minimum of three years to fully refit the fleet – and at least a third of our warships would be out of action at any one time during that process."
"Which may not be advisable with the Clans pressing ever closer to Terra." Waterly nodded her understanding. "Earlier you mentioned a more modest programme."
"Yes, Primus. Adding anti-fighter batteries to our warships would be enormously simpler than major refits to our primary armament and drives. In addition, we still have reserves of warships that haven't been restored to full service due to the expense and the demands of crewing them. My recommendation is to have our active fleet carry out only modest upgrades while Titan begins the programme of upgrades by refitting up to eight of the ships out of service and constructing additional escort dropships. Once we have the additional warships we can crew them by taking personnel out of active ships sent into refit. It would take four or five years to bring our fleet up to the standards this sets, but at the end of the process we would have had the time to build up our personnel numbers to fully crew a fleet of warships around a third again of our current strength. It's possible the AFFC might be able to match that rate of increase but it appears unlikely they can exceed it."
"That will be fiendishly expensive," grumbled Precentor Atreus.
Waterly nodded. "Unfortunately the refugee relief programmes we are carrying out in and around the Clan's occupation zones are straining our budgets. I see no alternative but to propose a half-percent rise in our commercial rates for HPG communications – at least those paid for in House Bills – from the third quarter of this year."
"That won't do the financial markets any good."
"My concern for Lyran merchants' bottom line is minimal," the Primus answered. "We have considerably more important priorities and their supposed claim to be humanitarian in comparison to their rivals gives them little grounds to protest – after all, it is their countrymen who benefit from the refugee programmes."
Precentor Beresick cleared his throat. "I obviously have no expertise in fiscal matters. The other implication we discussed, Primus..."
"Yes." She nodded. "Given the political implications, I am comfortable in discussing that without you Precentor – and you have quite a busy day drawing up a more detailed proposal for the increase in our warship fleet. Unless the First Circuit have any further questions..."
"Just one." Sharilar Mori held up her hand. "Precentor Beresick, you have implied that the Clans warships are broadly similar to our own – which suggests that individually the AFFC has vessels more than their equal. In that case, why have they not despatched them to enter battle?"
"Largely, your excellency, I suspect that Hanse Davion feels that he lacks the number of ships, particularly in the heavier classes, to engage in battle with the Clans. We've seem a number of cruisers and even battleships among the Clans' forces. However, our information on the Federated Commonwealth Navy so far is limited to confirmation of one destroyer and mention of some corvettes. While I wouldn't rule out a small number of larger ships, it's plausible that the First Prince wishes to amass a force at least equal to one of the Clans before he commits it."
"Thank you, for your time."
Beresick bowed his head first to Mori and then to the Primus. "The peace of Blake upon you, your Excellencies," he murmured, surrendering the control wand and retreating from the chamber.
"What other implication does he mean?" asked Precentor Tharkad cautiously.
Waterly raised an eyebrow. "How long did it take a message from Castor to reach Bordon so that they could despatch their assault force? Almost a full day between the convoy arriving and Marik's ships doing so. Granting that most of that was the wait for the regular transmission time, but there was also the time lag for radio signals at both ends."
She gestured to the hologram, shrinking it until the Loyalty was visible in full. "But less than thirty minutes after the strike force arrives, this vessel jumps in to destroy them." Her fist clenched around the wand. "Somewhere on Castor is an HPG station that signalled directly to this vessel. It is the only possible explanation. And that HPG is not under our control."
There were gasps.
"The Federated Commonwealth has broken its treaty obligations which invest ComStar as the sole guardian of all interstellar communication within their borders." She threw back the hood of her robe. "My Precentors, there can be no clearer message of contempt from Hanse Davion and his wife: they believe that they do not need us."
"If they had their own fully active HPG network they would hardly spend billions of C-bills every year paying for our services," cautioned Mori. "I agree, the HPG or some equivalent system is the only explanation, but if they could entirely disregard us then Hanse Davion wouldn't hesitate to advertise that. At a stroke he would have crippled our finances and all foreign intelligence services within his borders."
"You are correct, Sharilar. But it is plainly only a matter of time before he does exactly that." Waterly shook her head, the braid of pale hair slithering out of her collar. "And that means we must consider moving before he has the chance."
"You cannot intend to interdict the Federated Commonwealth!"
"Not now, no. We are not ready and I very much doubt it would be sufficient – given the chance it could very well lead to Davion moving to try to seize control of our existing stations. However, that will have to be part of our war plans." The Primus pointed towards the hologram of the ship with the sunburst-fist upon its side. "Because do not doubt – we are at war with the Federated Commonwealth!"
A/N: At this point in writing the story (19 November) I realised "okay, two-thirds done with the story" Then I realised that that meant I needed another 40,000 or more words done. And while I've certainly managed to write that much, that fast, doing so having done that twice already I was less sure of. As it happened the rest of the story turned out to be closer to another 60,000 words and for better or for worse I wrote it in 10 days flat. Hopefully you won't be disappointed.