Author's Foreword: It is encouraging to see that people are still engaged despite my long update periods. Life and the ebbs and flows of the creative process have resulted in a this lengthy span. Thank you all for reading!

How this will work, I will delete the previous (Stage Right) chapters with this update. I thank you all for your previous reviews, and rest assured this will continue. I apologize if this wipes out previous reviews. I'm still not quite sure how this site works, but I'm trying to work with it. I remain committed to this tale.

This is the collated, final part of this chapter. I hope you all enjoy.

The Wings (Stage Right)

Depopulated Settlement

200 km outside Bellerophon Star Port

16 March 3025/865 AS/2010

High Lady Kamea Arano examined the bevy of weapons under her command. Accompanying her were the leaders of her two mercenary commands. General Cerun and General Rosse walked them all through the hardware they spent the last two days inspecting. It was an impressive showing of new hardware supposedly produced by a resurgent Majesty Metals and Manufacturing. Arano had her doubts, but where it came from mattered not. All that mattered was effectiveness and these machines seemed to provide that in spades. A makeshift firing range was constructed. The range and accuracy of each type of vehicle and 'mech were demonstrated on the dilapidated buildings that littered the old settlement. The Black Lotus Battalion set up an observation area in the largest of the new DropShips, called a Citadel-class. The leaders observed the optical and holographic feeds on the bridge for the day's demonstration.

A light vehicle fired on a fallen mound of ferrocrete at what seemed like an impossible distance of three kilometers with its cannon. It struck true and sent pieces of the mound through the air. Each 'mech type and vehicle followed suit as weapons engaged designated targets at varying distances. Lady Arano knew that the true test of any weapon was on the battlefield, but this was a promising start. Then the DropShip itself rumbled as it fired its weapons in a demonstration of overwhelming power. She and Alexander Madeira blinked as they watched what was once a city block evaporate under the weight of fire.

"How accurate are the artillery pieces on this ship?" Darius Oliveira asked.

"With the target designators?" Cerun mentally reviewed the technical specs, "Within a meter or so. The shells themselves have some limited guidance, so with enough time they can adjust mid-flight and hit a moving target with some success. Don't really recommend it for that. Kinda defeats the purpose of artillery."

Arano closely examined the boxes on the hull on some of the vehicles, "Why are there these boxes on the hull of some of these?"

"Reactive armor." Rosse replied, "When struck by an explosive weapon, be it ballistic or missile, it explodes and effectively disrupts and distributes the force in all directions. It is applique, so it can be replaced easily in the field, though that does mean that after an impact in that zone the underlying armor is vulnerable."

"Wouldn't that be a problem for infantry?" Scarman asked, "Once the enemy figures that out, just shoot the vehicle and kill more PBIs."

"That is why for vehicles that operation closely with infantry there is a non-explosive variant. Not as effective, but no danger of shrapnel after a successful hit."

"Huh." Scarman was impressed, "Never heard of this stuff."

"It's an old concept but it still works." Cerun shrugged.

"This is a bounty I could not have imagined…" Arano gazed at the impromptu firing range results, "The Directorate will have a rude awakening when we descend upon them."

"What of ammunition supply?" Madeira asked, "I can't imagine that the weapons here use standard ammunition types."

"There's enough here for half a year of constant campaigning." Cerun brought up a mental inventory, "I mean constant. Going from battle to battle on full tilt for six months, each day fighting and firing everything."

"Logistically we have support from the Magistracy, but can we produce the ammunition on our own?" Madeira was aware of the age-old adage, "What about fuel? Food? Spare parts? Once we have even a world, we will have access to some industrial capability."

"For spares and ammo, we were provided with a data package to produce them. Fuel, not that much of an issue with full fusion power on all these things. Food, same as the ammo right now. Enough MREs to operate for quite some time, but if we supplement it with local foodstuffs that will alleviate that problem."

"There will be refugees." Arano interjected, "This war will devastate worlds, and I don't think we can prevent the destruction of infrastructure and agriculture on both sides. How will we feed my people?"

"That's a good question." Cerun looked at Madeira.

"Again, the Magistracy has confirmed humanitarian support for the people of the Reach." Madeira nodded, "Apparently their first plan had enough budget left over for such an effort."

"We move swiftly enough we can keep the enemy off balance and use their resources against them." Rosse added, "We just need to bid for the right worlds."

"Bid?" Scarman raised an eyebrow, "The hell do you mean by that?"

"Seize." Cerun answered with haste, "Turn of phrase." He put on his best smile.

"…right." Scarman shifted his attention to the DropShip itself, "I'm gonna assume this one here is yours, right Lady Arano?"

"That is correct, Commander Scarman." Arano nodded, "This Citadel has everything needed for a command ship. This will be the new Sword of Restoration."

"What do we end up with?" Oliveira asked.

"One of the two Grams, a Dragon, and a Wyvern." Cerun responded, "You should have more than enough room to thrive in there."

"And we get the damn things after this is all over…" Oliveira smiled, "Shit, never thought I'd be happy to fight in a civil war."

"Let's not forget about the 'mechs and vehicles." Scarman beamed, "We're not gonna circle the drain anymore, eh?"

Lady Arano sat in the command chair and changed the holo-table to a map of the Aurigan Reach.

"First of all," Arano began, "Generals Cerun and Rosse, thank you for the demonstration of our new equipment. I'm sure we have plenty more to see, but that will be reserved for training. Before we set off in a few days' time, I wanted to lay before all of you the first contract and the opening salvos of the liberation of the Aurigan Reach." The holo-table zoomed in on one of the star systems, "Our first strike against the Directorate will be against the world of Weldry. General Rosse, you will be the first on world and lead our assault to seize the starport. I will personally oversee the battle and participate alongside you. I will defer to your tactical and operational judgement in how to apply our forces on world. General Serov, you will provide support and direct our aerospace assets as we need them."

"And us?" Scarman asked, "Surely we're not gonna sit on the sidelines for this."

"Certainly not, Commander." Madeira responded, "Your objective will be the infamous Icebox, a prison my uncle has used for the past three years to house dissidents and hostages of the Ruling Council. You will liberate this prison and through it break my uncle's hold on the Reach. Hopefully, Raju Montgomery is alive within."

Scarman took a breath, "Yeah. I owe the old man."

"Sounds personal." Cerun observed, "Care to elaborate?"

"He was the mentor to many of the noble houses in the Reach, including my own and my uncle Espinosa." Arano said with solemnity, "The Ghosts owe their continued existence thanks to him, and I owe him my life. I hope against hope that he lives."

"I'll put a pin in that, then." Cerun noted, "I'll see to it that your company gets the support they need to break open the defenses."

"Will that not stretch your forces too thin?" Madeira asked.

"Aerospace is where I cut my teeth, Lord Madeira." Cerun smirked, "I know how to apply air assets. Don't you worry, the skies'll be crystal clear."

"I would advise you take a very close look at your new Dragon-class DropShip, Commander." Rosse suggested, "You will find quite a bit of firepower at your disposal."

Lady Arano returned to the conversation, "Rosse and Cerun have already installed the requisite software in the simulator deck of each DropShip. We will set off tomorrow and make our way to Weldry. Training programs to familiarize yourselves with your new equipment are already distributed. It will take a couple of months as we have to rendezvous with my loyalist forces and coordinate our battleplans. Good luck."

Hanger Bay, ISV Artemis

High Bellerophon Orbit

17 March 3025/865 AS/2010

Cerun examined the new hardware that were sent with them: F-11 Fedaykin fighters replaced their old F-5 Liberators; IFV-12 Vernius' and Rooikat R105s replaced the Ursa Majors that were the backbone of their reconnaissance force. On board the Blazing Cat was more hardware: A company of M2 MacArthur MBTs were included; and to round it all out was a company of 'mechs which consisted of four TH-08 Konev heavy 'mechs, four Type-08M Gundam medium 'mechs, and eight ZMQ-9 Black Panther light 'mechs. Against projected enemy forces, the hardware and training of the Black Lotus Battalion significantly outmatched what the enemy had available to them. He walked in front of one of the Rooikats and admired an example of Earth's newfound capability. Above him, a person waved him down.

"Admiral!" The person called, "Not bad, eh?"

"Not in the slightest, Commander Davion." Cerun replied up to the voice.

Lieutenant Commander Sarah Davion hopped down from the catwalk onto one of the Vernius' then down to the deck. Cerun smiled to himself as the multiverse had a strange way of manifesting itself. In the former Liberty Navy Sarah was a remarkable engineer, responsible for the field tests and ultimate deployment of the Artemis ahead of the Exodus Fleet. In this universe, the name Sarah Davion was one of the First Princes of the Federated Suns. Cerun was thankful that the names of the houses were spread so far and wide thanks to the neo-feudalistic nature of the Inner Sphere.

"Good to see our work was for something, sir." Davion patted the hull of the IFV, "Thought we'd be the last of a dead universe. Instead, Admiral Merlow actually pulled it off."

"Remember, Commander, It's Bashar now." Cerun corrected with a smile, "Good to see the fruits of our work. How do these things look?"

"Well, sir, whoever is heading up MSI's RnD division is worth their salary a hundred-fold. The modularity is beautifully simple, materially acceptable for mass production, extremely survivable, and the thing is goddamn droppable. You wanna do a true hot drop with this thing? You can. It's a true generational leap over the Ursa Major."

"The Rooikat, gimmie a rundown."

"I never thought that twenty-first century Earth would be capable of such a quick turnaround on a combat vehicle like this, but here we are. This thing is quick, faster than the Vernius. That rotary one-oh-five-mil cannon is quite effective even utilizing Earth's more primitive ammunition. We've made some tweaks to the rounds so you can expect more destructive capacity out of each round type. We're not limited by existing stockpiles here. The machine guns are machine guns, nothing to write home about, but they'll do the job against infantry and unarmored targets. The missiles, well, they're bigger than our usual fare, but whoever updated them made them unbelievably destructive. They've packed a whole hell of a lot more boom in 'em." She said with a grin, "They seem pretty damn good."

"Well, Rob did give Earth access to our tech."

"The usual solution is making things smaller with a bit more boom, sir. They kept the same size and just increased the boom. Should make the Rooikat punch way above its weight, especially with the lack of missile countermeasures at the moment."

"That's great to hear. Did you manage to get a look at the 'mechs before they were loaded on Rosse's ship?"

"Got the data package." Davion mentally reviewed the data, "They seem impressive, especially for Earth-produced 'mechs. We even got the full-powered versions." She shook her head with a smile, "They're really gonna export these things?"

"We're already exporting tech. There's that factory on Antallos where they're assembling 'mechs for the Combine. Knowledge has a way of disseminating whether we like it or not. That's why we always try to stay ahead of the curve."

"I know, sir, it's just… we're generationally ahead at least. We've got swords, shields, and arrows while our opponents are fighting with sticks and stones."

"Those sticks can still kill if sharp enough and those stones can crush if thrown hard enough." Cerun cautioned.

"Point taken, sir. Besides, these things pale in comparison to the Fedaykins we got on Cradle." She pointed across to one of the fighters, "These motherfuckers, they took our stealth tech and put 'em in there. That's the biggest edge they have over the Liberators. They're more maneuverable, have better inertial dampeners, improved targeting systems, the works. Oh, and the mini-fabs they put in there are so much more efficient than my bodge job."

"Give yourself some credit, Sarah. This is all based on your work."

Davion sighed, "I know. It's just…"

"What, you didn't have the combined brainpower of the Sirius Sector's finest minds behind you? You managed to put a functional production tech on a military destroyer with zero assistance. That's more than any other engineer in the rest of the old sector."

"Thanks, sir. I have to ask, what are you doing here?"

Cerun stared at one of the Fedaykins, "Well, I need to do a check on what I'll be flying into battle."

Bridge, DropShip ACV Sword of Restoration

En Route to Weldry

Weldry System, Aurigan Directorate Space

13 May 3025

High Lady Kamea Arano sat in the command seat of her new Sword of Restoration. The Citadel-class DropShip was more than she could have dreamed of to restore herself to the throne. Beside her Lord Alexander Madeira reviewed their equipment deployment one last time. Arano's loyalist forces managed to scrape together a respectable supplement to her provided force. Over the course of the past two months, those on board the DropShips generously provided by the Magistracy trained on the new hardware on the 'holo-deck' of the vessels. They learned the quirks, the capabilities, the strengths and weaknesses of their equipment and themselves. In the words of General Cerun they were 'greener than God's green Earth.' The age-old adage held; you go to war with the army you have not the army you want.

Weldry was to be their crucible, their first true test as a military force. They would fight against former comrades; many they had fought alongside for years. It was the tragedy of civil war. Arano shoved such thoughts from her mind and focused on the battle ahead. Rosse's DropShip was well ahead of them by two days. They would clear the landing zone and begin the fight to take the star port. She would arrive and lead the assault as the Mentor's Ghosts took the Icebox. This was it, the opening salvo of her war.

"Ma'am," the comms officer reported, "report from the Black Lotus Battlation."

"What is it?" she asked.

"They've landed and are engaging the enemy."

It has begun.

Combat Landing Point Alpha, 50 kilometers from the Starport

Weldry

Rosse charged her weapons and fired. An already damaged Bulldog exploded spectacularly as particle beams, lasers, and missiles tore it to pieces. She switched targets. A Blackjack sat a kilometer away as it fired on one of her approaching Black Panthers. She let loose her particle cannons. One of the Blackjack's arms came clear off, spraying metal debris all over. The Black Panther's sprinting form followed up her shot with their own volley. At full tilt, it tore into the poor 'mech with rotary cannon and missile fire. The other side torso was torn completely off, and the Blackjack was left useless.

"Well done, Rodrigo!" Rosse congratulated over comms.

"Thank you, Star Captain!" He responded, "These 'mechs are even better than in the sims!"

Rosse adjusted and let loose another alpha strike at another Bulldog: blue, green, and contrails reached out and savaged the tank, "These savashri have never seen Clan combat before! Let us teach them, aff?"

"Aff, ma'am!"

"Trinary!" Her voice rang over the command frequency, "Press forth and push the enemy back! We must form a defensive line and await the arrival of Lady Arano. Fight with honor, warriors!"

For the first time in years, Rosse felt alive in combat. The Konev heavy 'mech she fielded was a breath of fresh air compared to the sluggish Spartan she wielded before. It felt… alive, helped by the 'virtual intelligence' that guided her hand in combat. She observed it as more responsive, snappy, as though she were in an omni-mech again. As easily as she breathed, she readied another blast against an enemy 'mech, this time a Vindicator that just jumped into view. She exhaled as her weapons were unloaded on the poor medium 'mech. A leg was snapped off and the Vindicator sent tumbling to the ground. She switched targets as another enemy registered on sensors. A Striker crested the hill only to be annihilated by another member of her trinary. One-hundred meters to her left a Gundam pummeled the offender with laser and rail gun fire. The Striker erupted into a fireball as its missile turret was sent flying.

The ground rumbled as the Blazing Cat fired its Long Tom artillery pieces at enemies that attempted to join the fray. Hell unleased upon the poor souls who tried. The explosions in the distance marked their fate. Rosse frowned.

"Abram-One, Drummond-One. Explain yourself, over." Rosse demanded.

"Drummond-One, the enemy is too weak to warrant direct combat." Her Fortress DropShip responded, "They are unworthy, over."

"Abram-One, that is not your decision to make, aff?"

There was a pause, "Quiaff, Drummond-One. Over and out."

The battlefield went silent as the Directorate retreated. Rosse was disappointed. She hoped that these Periphery forces would put up more of a fight, yet she also understood that discretion was the better part of valor. What point was there to face an enemy piecemeal when they would surely destroy you one by one?

"Trinary, form a defensive line. Deploy mechanized forces and form a perimeter. We will assign patrols in the upcoming hours. Drummond-One out."

Weldry Starport

15 May 3025

Directorate Colonel Jenaro Paredes looked in horror as he saw more and more DropShips land fifty kilometers away from their location. Scouts reported groups of five 'mechs and vehicles that roved about, poking and prodding at their defensive line. His forces had already lost a significant number of 'mechs and vehicles in the opening day. The subsequent days were just as bad as artillery hammered the perimeter and forced him to scatter his soldiers. Intelligence about who had initiated the attack was spotty at best. The unit markings were that of a geometric black lotus flower. Such a company was unknown to him. The markings of the new DropShips, there was no mistake. The Arano Restoration was here in force, and he was determined to fulfill his duty to Director Espinosa. He sent a transmission over HPG to Coromodir and advised them of their situation.

He reviewed the battle map. The new contacts landed with the initial attacking force. The DropShips, 'mechs, and vehicles were completely unknown to him. That was distressing as he had no idea how to properly deploy to counteract the enemy composition. To prepare for any possible contingency, he adjusted his forces into mixed lances of vehicles and 'mechs. He kept a reserve force of a company of heavy 'mechs to be the quick reaction force in the event of enemy breakthrough. It would be a tough battle. Intelligence estimated enemy numbers to be at least that of a regiment, with dozens of 'mechs and vehicles. There were at least two Fortresses under their command, which brought with it feared artillery support. Their artillery was obscenely accurate, having knocked out a good amount of his forces. His defense was threadbare at best, but Paredes had no choice. He had to hold the Starport, else he and the rest of the Directorate on world would be cut off.

"Sir," his adjutant shifted his focus away from the map, "enemy is on the move."

"Show me." He commanded.

The battle map turned holographic as he watched the red squares of the enemy flicker in and out over the terrain. The positions were unreliable at best, but there was only so much they could do with their sensors. Identification by recon elements were fed real-time into the battle map and at least gave an idea of where the enemy was most concentrated. He noted a gap in coverage.

"Where is Gamma Lance?" he asked, "They're supposed to be on this."

His adjutant referred to their tablet, "They've missed their scheduled check-in. I'll contact the company commander."

"Tell them to shift a lance and patch up that coverage. We need to know where the hell they're at."

35 kilometers from the Starport

Lady Arano shifted her reticle. The lance in front of her melted in the face of her new 'mechs. She had taken a liking to the Konev that the Magistracy provided. The weapons were potent, it was maneuverable, and it could jump. The enemy had found out the hard way just how outclassed they were as her personal lance destroyed an enemy lance from previously impossible distances. The BLB and her own soldiers reported similar results from across the front. She kept aerospace assets in reserve, to break through when the Directorate stiffened their resolve and consolidated their defense. She had to destroy as many enemy assets as she could before that inevitability occurred.

"Drummond-One, Sword-One. Report, over." Arano asked over comms.

"Sword-One, resistance is light. Scouting elements primarily. Wait." Rosse's transmission was punctuated by a distant explosion, "My sector is clear. We will clear a path for you, Sword-One, over."

"Roger, Drummond-One. Out to you." Arano switched frequency, "Liberty-One, Sword-One, over."

Cerun circled lazily above the battlefield. The Directorate had no aerospace assets to speak of. There was nothing for Cerun to flex the new Fedaykin on. No targets, Rosse wanted the ground all to herself, so he and the rest of Liberty Squadron loitered above the Starport to respond to any air support calls.

"Liberty-One, Sword-One, come in, over." His comms barked again.

"Sword-One, Liberty-One. Go ahead, over." Cerun responded.

"Liberty-One, redirect to landing site Bravo." Arano ordered, "You will be supporting the Icebox force, callsign Ghost, over."

"Wilco. Out." Cerun marked the location on the map, "Liberty Squadron, Liberty-One. To my mark. We support the Icebox op, over." A series of affirmative beeps were the response, "Good. Out."

It was a hot landing. Scarman and his lance dropped on top of an unsuspecting patrol. Whoever was defending this prison thought that they were far enough away from the main engagement that they were safely away from the fight. Their entrance just a few kilometers away shattered that notion. The landing of their new Gram stirred up the hornet's nest as vehicles and 'mechs began to pour out of the Icebox. Scarman shifted his attention from the wrecked patrol to a nearby Wasp that was unlucky enough to enter his sights. On reflex, he pressed the triggers and unleased a devastating alpha strike. Lasers, missiles, and rail gun rounds shredded through the light armor of the poor bug. The light 'mech went up in a ball of flame. He shifted to the next target, an unlucky Bulldog tank. Before his weapons cycled for another shot a series of missiles rained from above and erased the tank from the surface.

"Ghost-One, Liberty-One, over." Came a voice over comms.

"Liberty-One, shift fire. Focus on the static—" his sentence was cut short by near deafening explosions, "The hell was that Liberty-One!?"

"Defenses down, Ghost-One, and then some." Cerun's smug smirk practically screamed in Scarman's ears, "We'll be overhead to provide additional cover as needed, over."

"Goddamnit! Fine, just don't blow up the prison, over and out." Scarman shifted frequencies, "Ghosts, deploy the mech inf! Eck, shred the rest of these fuckers!"

"On the way!" Eck responded with aplomb.

Eck's own Gundam annihilated another Bulldog with its rotary rail gun. A Striker emerged from the wrecked walls of the prison and opened fire with its LRM battery. Without skipping a beat, Scarman's Gundam automatically targeted the incoming missiles with a hail of lasers and twenty-millimeter airburst rounds. The LRMs neutralized, another member of Scarman's lance directed their hate toward the offender. With little ceremony another Directorate vehicle was left as a pile of burning wreckage on the battlefield to be plundered after the mission was over. The Gram fired ERPPC shots, lasers, and missiles at targets that made the mistake of entering the arc of the DropShip. Targets by the droves fell one after another as the minutes dragged on.

Scarman crested a hill that overlooked the Icebox. Just a few kilometers away he saw the gates of the prison open to reveal the last hope of the complex: a lance of 'mechs in slipshod condition. His computer immediately identified them as a Jenner, Centurion, Trebuchet, and JagerMech. Time was of the essence, as who knew what the Directorate would do to the prisoners if they knew the facility were to fall. Scarman fired a volley and jumped forward. Almost subconsciously the rest of his lance followed. He saw as his missiles and rail guns punched into the already scarred armor of the Trebuchet. He punched the comms button.

"Liberty-One, Ghost-One." Scarman rang.

"Ghost-One, go ahead, over." Cerun's lackadaisical voice replied.

"I need fire support on my target, over."

"Wilco. On the way."

In mere moments, missiles rained from above from however many aerospace craft Cerun had under his command. Like an angry god, they smashed into the ignorant mortals below. Explosions severed what life remained from the dilapidated defenders. The precision of the Black Lotus Battalion was on full display as the last major defenders disappeared under the force of high explosive bolts from the blue. When the pressure waves cleared, splintered metal and smoking craters remained. Scarman simply blinked as he peered across the battlefield. His sensors confirmed no enemy remained. He almost felt like his lance was simply redundant, there to spot for the air force. A distant memory of how wars were fought on Terra brought screaming into the modern day. Scarman refocused. He still had an important job to do.

"Alright, folks. Mech inf, get into the Icebox and secure the prisoners. Lance, with me. We get to roll out the red carpet for Lady Arano's arrival."

He sat on the edge of consciousness, body and mind worn to the absolute limit of his endurance. He felt it, the creeping march of mortality. Death was coming for him, and he was ready to face it. It would be a welcome release after three years of constant efforts to break him, mold him into a tool of the Directorate. His loyalties were absolute. He was a warrior of the ruler of the realm, and not of a usurper. Despite his stalwart allegiance, the Directorate deigned to execute him. It was apparent that they didn't want a martyr on their hands, especially after the death of Lady Arano. So, they left him on Weldry to die a slow, painful death of constant abuse.

As his consciousness faded, he heard voices. They were different, not those of his jailors. There was a franticness in their voice, an edge of someone on a mission. He opened an eye to see who it was.

"You best be telling the truth, asshole," a voice stated as they grew closer, "else you'll end up a smear on one of the shiny machines we've got outside."

"Yes! Of course!" he recognized that voice. The prison warden was being held at gunpoint by someone. Maybe his struggle would be at an end. Maybe… "He's over here!"

The buzzing of the doors was accompanied by the now well-known sound of his cell opening. A helmeted soldier with unknown markings entered his cell.

"Holy shit." They uttered, "Medic! Medic, stat!"

Another figure rushed in, "Hey. Gonna need you to lay down for me, okay? We're here to get you out of here."

He mustered what strength remained and laid down on the cold, concrete floor. The medic quickly and carefully cut open the remains of his shirt and retrieved something from their bag. Before he could register what they were doing, he felt a sharp object pierce his sternum and enter his heart. He nearly railed against the pain, but he felt two pairs of hands hold his limbs down. In moments, he felt a rush of life and fatigue all at once.

"Don't you worry." The medic assured him, "We've got you."

Those were the last words he heard before everything faded to black.

Lady Kamea Arano arrived hours later after her stunning victory at the Starport. She was escorted to the Icebox by General Rosse and her forces. The professionalism and efficiency of the Black Lotus Battalion alongside the new technological capability her own forces had shown on full display in the battle. The patchwork of loyalist soldiers she had managed to recruit had proven their worth under the tutelage of the Black Lotus. They were still green by every metric, but their training however brief had allowed them to take advantage of their new hardware.

Arano observed the devastation wrought by the Ghosts and their Black Lotus support. What was once a fortified prison was now laid bare, its walls demolished, and security smashed to rubble. Her heart skipped a beat. She did it. The first real test of the Restoration in combat was a resounding success. Weldry and the Icebox was hers, the first step on a long road to retaking her realm. It was a blitz, one she hoped would be the first of many. Her comms crackled to life.

"Sword-One, Ghost-One." Scarman's voice called for her.

"Ghost-One, Sword-One. Go ahead, over." She responded.

"There's someone here you should see, ma'am, over."

"Who is it, over?" Her curiosity was piqued.

"A mutual friend. That's all I was told, over."

"Wilco. Meet me at the entrance, Ghost-One. Sword-One out."

She put a marker on the map and directed her Konev forward. There were only a few kilometers left between her and the Icebox. She shuddered with grim anticipation for what she would find there.

Scarman broke his 'mech off from the rest of his lance and headed toward the demolished entrance of the Icebox. The rest of his lance posted up in good overwatch positions in the event of a counterattack, though given the state of the Icebox and the fact that Lady Arano was already here most resistance was handled today. His Konev came to a halt fifty meters from one of his company's refitted APCs. He initiated the shutdown procedure and popped open his cockpit. Carefully, he climbed down the convenient climbing hardpoints that deployed when his cockpit opened. The soldiers on the ground saluted as he approached. He glanced behind him as he heard the telltale footfalls of advancing 'mechs. Scarman spotted a pair of Konevs escorted by a pair of Gundams and Black Panthers. The insignias on both denoted their importance. Lady Arano was here.

The Konevs stopped beside his own while the lighter 'mechs joined his own lance in overwatch positions around the Icebox. Rosse and Arano descended from their 'mechs as Scarman stood and waited.

"Gotta say, that went well." Scarman called to them as their feet touched down.

"Agreed, Commander." Arano nodded as she stepped quickly to join him, "Better than I could've hoped."

"The enemy was disorganized and inadequate." Rosse stated as she joined them, "I am not surprised of our victory."

"Anyways," Scarman refocused them, "I think they have that 'friend' in an APC over there." He pointed to a vehicle a few meters away, "Shall we?"

"Lead the way." Arano nodded.

In relative silence, Scarman, Arano, and Rosse walked to the APC where a medic and a pair of soldiers awaited them. They saluted. Scarman waved them down from attention.

"What do you have for us?" Scarman asked them.

"We couldn't be completely sure, sir," one of the soldiers responded, "but the warden insisted that this was our man."

"Sorry, I'm a bit lost." Scarman scratched his head, "Who are we talking about?"

"Allow me." Arano stepped forward, "Show us the man." She insisted.

"Of course, Lady Arano." The pair of soldiers stepped aside as the medic continued their work. Revealed to the three of them was the prone figure of Raju Montgomery, hooked up to a monitoring device and an IV drip.

"He's alive…" Arano was in disbelief.

"I'll be damned." Scarman smiled, "Of course coring out his 'mech didn't kill 'im."

Rosse examined Montgomery, "Raju Montgomery, correct?"

"You know him?" Scarman asked.

"I know of him. He was your mentor and Master-at-Arms, correct Lady Arano?"

"Yes." Arano was hushed, "I thought he died on Coromodir…"

"We were just in time." The medic interjected as they monitored Montgomery's lifesigns, "Any later and he would be gone."

"Thank you." Arano nodded to the medic, tears in her eyes, "How is his condition?"

"Better than I could imagine, Lady Arano." The medic adjusted the IV drip, "This medi-gel stuff we got from the Magistracy is a medical miracle. Still, I think we'll need to amputate his left leg from below the knee along with his entire right arm."

"We can handle that procedure." Rosse stated as she examined the man, "I will discuss it with Cerun, but I believe we can provide adequate replacements."

"I see." Arano simply stared at Montgomery, "I will entrust him to your care, Rosse." She turned away, "Both of you, I want the Icebox stripped of everything useful. Intelligence, weapons, everything. Sent out salvage teams and clear the wreckage. Anything battle-viable is to be taken into inventory. Organize the prisoners and have them replace those they once interred here. They are to be treated humanely; they are still my people. Then, I want you both to gather our forces back at the Starport. It's time to let everyone know that my uncle's time is at an end."

Weldry Starport

18 May 3025

The Restoration combed through the Icebox to see to the prisoners that the Directorate gathered. Their treatment shocked Lady Arano. This was not a prison, but a concentration camp designed to break the will of dissidents and opponents of House Espinosa. There were scores of dead left in their cells. Those still alive barely clung to life, battered and bloodied by the obscene treatment given by the warden and their guards. Under interrogation, she was told that the Directorate established a kind of secret police to root out potential resistance to her uncle's rule. This was not what she imagined for her people, a life of fear and uncertainty under the jackboot of the Directorate. The people had no idea whether in the middle of the night they would be taken from their homes and tortured to death in this hellhole.

They had taken their time clearing the Starport, the Icebox and every last nook of potential Directorate resistance. The complete collapse of enemy organization aided their efforts, as many former Directorate soldiers were pressed into their current roles by Santiago's loyalists. A good number of them were eager to join the Restoration's ranks as they saw a real opportunity to avenge their status as expendable. With all relevant intelligence and technology secure, Lady Kamea Arano saw fit to formally address her people. She gathered the BLB, the Ghosts, and her own forces into the courtyard. She had cameras and a feed to the local HPG station. This was it, to reveal to the Reach that had returned for her birthright. She looked over the assembled crowd and took a breath to steady herself.

"People of the Aurigan Reach. I am Kamea Arano, and I have failed you. For three long years, Director Espinosa has imprisoned and starved and murdered our people. And where was I? Hiding in a palace lightyears away, building support, planning, while the Directorate secret police turned neighbor against neighbor. Made your loved ones disappear. Conscripted your children."

"I wasn't here."

"I didn't know."

"The crimes I have witnessed here are unforgivable. No doubt Director Espinosa believes the ends justify the means, that the Aurigan Reach has been made strong."

"Well, I say that strength built on fear is brittle! The Directorate is a paper tiger, and I declare this Restoration today to rally the true strength of our people, our resilience, and our freedom! Let Weldry be a call to arms! Join us, and together we will liberate the founding houses and retake Coromodir! Not because it is my birthright, but because the Directorate's crimes against you, the Aurigan people, will no longer be tolerated! That is what I fight for, and I vow to fight for your freedoms to my dying breath!"

Cheers erupted before her. She clenched her fists. It was no longer just about retaking her birthright. It was to topple a regime designed to intimidate her people into submission.

Ready Room, ISV Artemis

High Weldry Orbit

Fleet Captain Valder had the Restoration transmission on in the background as he reviewed the initial AARs from the field. Cerun, Rosse, and the Restoration Army had put the new hardware through their paces. There were some combat losses, mainly the lighter Rooikats where their crews were too gung-ho in pressing the attack, but total losses were minimal. They had replacements, and there was a whole lot more military hardware that was going to be handed over to the Restoration sooner rather than later. The crews enjoyed the speed and firepower combination, and though they saw it in the simulators it was still a surprise that the shields held against contemporary weapons fire. The rotary one-hundred-five-millimeter cannon proved effective, though it took more ammunition than the crews liked to seriously damage a target. That was something extremely relevant and helped shape vehicle doctrine.

He scanned down the rest of the vehicles. The MacArthurs were beasts on the battlefield, their arms bested every opponent sent their way. It was the maintenance afterward that was a bit underwhelming. Though the power pack could be easily removed for service, it was the service time of said power packs that held them up. Of course, after just one major engagement it would take more time to really shake out all the flaws and to train the technicians to service their equipment efficiently, but it was something of note for now.

He reviewed the reports from the 'mech crews and pilots. Overall, pilots found the 'mechs to be a dream to fight in. The engagement ranges alone were indicative of the effectiveness of the platforms. Firepower, protection, reliability, somehow the nations of Earth got it right the first time. It helped that their first efforts were built on the backs of decades of both ISA and Star League-era development. What flaws were on their original platforms were ironed out by the time Earth iterated upon them. The Gundam in particular seemed very popular with the pilots that helmed them, the composite armor shield proved quite popular with the more… heavy handed. There were multiple recorded instances of the 'mech having jumped into melee range, smashed an opponent with the shield, and followed it up with the vibroblade to devastating effect. The Japanese would be pleased to see their design utilized in such a way. Serviceability was acceptable, but that would improve with time as the techs grew more familiar with the hardware they maintained.

There was much more data that needed to be collected, more engagements necessary, but the first real showing of Earth's products in battle proved to be a resounding success. His table beeped at him.

"Incoming Transmission." The computer stated. He reviewed the source. Cerun.

"Put him through."

Cerun's face appeared two-dimensional above the table, "Keeping my ship in good condition?" He asked half mockingly.

"Nah, blew half the damn thing up, sir." Valder returned a smile, "Where are we off to now?"

"Who says we're leaving?"

"The concentration of troops at the Starport and your company's gear's been stowed, sir."

Cerun whistled, "And that's why you're my XO."

"We've been doing this for over half a century now. I've got a system, sir."

"We're headed for Fjaldr. We've got an army to train. The Ghosts, they're headed for… somewhere. They want to give the new hardware a spin and they're Arano's knife anyways. That'll give us plenty of combat data and earn them some cash. Even now, they're pretty strapped."

"Very good, sir. Would you like me to scout ahead and establish orbital intelligence, sir?" Valder asked.

"If you would be so kind."

"Consider it done, sir."

Weldry Starport

General Anya Rosse looked up at her Konev. The memories of the battle etched into her mind, fought as a warrior instead of a bandit. The feeling of honorable combat combined with the strategy of the Inner Sphere brought results that she had inklings of on her many raids. She absentmindedly thumbed the new vineer she gained from the last battle, a piece of 'mech glass from the cockpit of a Directorate Warhammer. It was the only heavy 'mech on the enemy's side of the battle, and she had the honor of engaging in zellbrigen with the pilot. She had prevailed handily, the ancient design of StarCorps and the skill of the pilot were no match for her and her Konev. Yet, the pilot still fought bravely. They managed to eject when she cored the 'mech and was captured by the Restoration during the battle. She wanted to take them as bondsman, but this was the Inner Sphere, and she knew better than to tip her hand like that. After the battle was won, she took a piece of cockpit glass as the salvage teams combed over the battlefield wreckage. It was her first proper duel in a very long time.

Seeker/Colonel Adar Djerassi joined her. He had taken to his new Gundam with aplomb, proving a natural fit with the bloodnamed warrior.

"Star Captain." He greeted, "I see you have a new vineer."

"Aff, Adar." She glanced down at the glass, "We fought as warriors once again. I felt whole for the first time in years."

He looked up at her Konev, "They feel like omnimechs. The technicians say they can refit them in any way we please."

"I have a feeling, Adar."

"Your feelings have proven to prophetic, quiaff?"

Rosse chuckled, "Troublingly so. In this case, I feel the presence of the golden eagle."

"I felt it too, ever since we joined with Cerun." Djerassi stroked his chin, "Do you feel danger?"

"No, and that puzzles me. He must be one of the flock."

"He did bring us a good deal of this before we regrouped. Does the eagle have such prowess?"

"Untarnished, Adar, surrounded by the sullied Houses around them. They are no longer hatchlings, but there is something else… Something… not of here."

Adar nodded, "We should continue this aboard the DropShip."

"Aff." She switched gears, "Rodrigo and Hector proved extremely capable as heads of their stars. Your thoughts?"

"Agreed. Their displays make them worthy to challenge for their bloodname, but we cannot give them that honor here."

"Promotion?"

"Aff. They deserve to rise above Warrior. Given our new command structure, First Lieutenant?"

"Quiaff."

The pair turned away from the Konev. There were more battles to fight, and they had time to prepare.

Command Information Center, Castle Nautilus

Artru

Artru System, Aurigan Directorate Space

3 June 864 AS/2010/3025

"The Arano Restoration has achieved its first major victory and is moving quickly to their next major objective. After Weldry, Fjaldr and Ichlangis have already fallen under the Restoration's control." Triple-S Officer Lieutenant Dragoslav Heintze reported to Fleet Captain Marie Anahera, "In the next months, we anticipate more combat data from the Restoration's campaign and will pass it on to higher."

"I see." Anahera turned to the holographic image of her executive officer Major Kulap Metharom, "Major, how do we stand in terms of orbital security?"

"Orbital networks and system probes report no abnormal traffic. Aerospace patrols report no incursions into atmosphere. We are secure for the time being." Metharom nodded.

"Good to hear." She turned her attention to the holo-table, "Now, I have been authorized to let you all know that this base will be inhabited by the Arano Restoration in the coming months. Given the amount of military hardware and distance from the front, this will be an important logistical hub. It is imperative that we are hardened from potential assault and the events of an apocryphal video game don't play out as it says."

"How soon can we expect their arrival?" Metharom's image asked.

"Within the next few months. We'll know when they're coming well beforehand."

"That sounds ominous." Heintze observed.

"Don't you worry, Lieutenant." Anahera smiled, "From what I understand, our contacts are professionals."

The table beeped at them, "Priority transmission."

"Please clear the room, everyone." Anahera requested. Heintze saluted and left the CIC. Metharom's image saluted and disappeared from the room. The CIC empty, she enabled ECM protocols and locked down the room. The image of Bashar Superior Marcus Scarman appeared beside her, "Sir." She saluted.

"At ease, Fleet Captain." Scarman paced through the holo-table, "That went a whole hell of a lot better than we could've hoped."

"Sir?" Anahera was confused, "What exactly are you talking about?"

"The Restoration." Scarman turned to face her, "Good job in getting Nautilus set up for them, by the way."

"Thank you, sir."

"Hmm… We did want you and your force here to support the Restoration in terms of training and so on, but we have a pretty serious dilemma." Scarman activated the holo-table and brought up a regional map, "We want to avoid direct conflict with the Concordat. If we're spotted on the far side of the Periphery supporting the Restoration, that could complicate things diplomatically."

"So, you want us to leave this place?"

"We need to ensure that your presence is undetected in this conflict. We cannot risk the diplomatic fallout of official ISA forces in the Reach."

Anahera stroked her chin, "What about a false flag?"

"Who would we point it to?" Scarman was genuinely curious.

Anahera gave it some thought, "…The Vandenberg White Wings."

Scarman's eyes lit up, "Oh. Oh, that's good. Give hints of ComStar involvement in the affair… I like it."

"I thought you might, sir. We can fabricate new uniforms and paintjobs for all our gear. Shouldn't take too long."

"Still, if you can avoid direct confrontation, do so." Scarman emphasized, "The Concordat can prove to be a valuable ally far from the clutches of Inner Sphere war."

"Understood, sir."

The holo-table shifted to Terra, "Inevitably, this conflict will draw the attention of ComStar proper. Rumors of advanced technology, along with battlefield footage will disseminate as the war progresses, especially with propaganda reels and battlefield reporting."

"I've been considering that, sir. Weldry is a great location for a listening post, but given we are going to hand this location over we have conducted some reconnaissance in surrounding systems. Argos, within about twenty light years, seems like a fantastic candidate for a new listening post. We have yet to conduct population and habitation studies, but to be completely honest that is not our primary concern."

"Do some more in-depth analysis, Fleet Captain. I will consider the proposal."

Bridge, ISV Artemis

En Route to Panzyr II

Panzyr System, Aurigan Directorate Space

22 June 865 AS/3025

After the blitzkrieg campaign to seize Weldry, Fjaldr and Ichlangis, Lady Arano had her sights set on Panzyr. House Decimis pledged their support to Lady Arano and began the campaign on the surface in earnest. The world of Panzyr II was surrounded in a dense cloud of debris left over from the Reunification and Succession Wars, making any approach hazardous. Any Inner Sphere force depended on the spaceport to provide real-time tracking of potential orbital approach vectors. For the nimble frame of the ISV Artemis and the shielded nature of almost all the vessels under the combined BLB/Restoration command they could navigate the field with some difficulty. There was one important vessel that needed to reach the surface that did not have the agility nor the shields to reach the surface without assistance.

"Gods, the debris around this world…" The helm officer shook their head, "We're gonna have to guide in the Blazing Cat."

"We need to get her DropShip refitted sooner rather than later." Valder noted out loud, "Sensors, what kind of orbital defenses are we looking at?"

"Frankly, nothing, sir." Sensors reported, "It's barren."

"Let's get in orbit." Valder ordered.

"If we can get recon sats in orbit, that would be a miracle." Sensors announced, "We may have to rely on suborbital recon assets."

"We'll see when we get there." Valder sat back in the command chair, "Helm, lay in a course to let us drop probes then get us into geosynchronous orbit above the star port. Sensors, deploy active probes. We need to have a better picture of the shifting nature of the debris field. Comms, monitor transmissions. Any relevant information will be essential for the landing force. Tactical, warm up the weapons. Just in case."

Bridge, ACV Sword of Restoration

Nonstandard Jump Point

Lady Arano was impatient. Their rapid progress on Fjaldr and Ichlangis after the success of Weldry had bolstered morale and engendered a sense of triumph against the Directorate. The knowledge they could jump on nonstandard points and the clear technological difference won the day. Her troops gained valuable battlefield experience and grew to know their equipment better, becoming more effective soldiers in the process. She wanted to achieve the same kind of success here, but one massive barrier stood in her way. The ancient debris field.

House Decimis had already mobilized and were close to seizing the space port. She was ready to support her family's old ally and had assumed that as soon as they entered the system they would begin at full burn to the surface. That was not to be. The BLB had advised that they had assets in place to ensure an expedient advance, but those assets had to be deployed judiciously. So, they waited. The DropShip fleet had already released themselves from their JumpShips, crews prepared for full burn as soon as clearance was granted.

"I appreciate the caution," Arano said from the command chair, "but we need to reach House Decimis. We're no good here."

"We're also no good if we join the debris." Lord Madeira observed, "Whether we like it or not, we have to wait on Cerun's signal to proceed. Besides, the Blazing Cat is where the bulk of the BLB's fighting force is and that ship doesn't have shields."

Arano rapped her fingers on the armrest, "I know Alex. I just hate waiting."

"The old adage still holds true: Hasten Slowly."

So, they waited. Minutes passed.

Then an hour.

Two.

"Ma'am," the comms officer piped up, "The Marquis of Panzyr is asking for our ETA."

"…" Arano glared at the holo-table and the lack of information, "As soon as we're able."

ISV Artemis

The Artemis maneuvered deftly through the debris field and deployed probes all throughout. The sensor network necessary to map out a safe path through expanded by the hour. Each one revealed more information, more data. The dangerous, ever-shifting metal was reduced bit by bit to a navigable terrain with clear paths like rivers through the debris. As they closed on their last waypoint, the last probe dropped. In that moment, the probe network revealed thousands of kilometers of the debris field, from the jump point to the atmosphere. In synchrony, the Restoration DropShip fleet which waited processed the now active probe links and devised their paths of approach. The vessels plotted their approach vectors, checked with the other members of the fleet, and began their burn to the planet.

The Artemis, now in close orbit, analyzed the orbital environment. Reconnaissance satellites were out of the question, the debris field was too thick.

"Comms, open a channel to the Maneki-Neko." Valder ordered.

"Channel open."

Cerun's holographic image appeared on the bridge, "Yes, Fleet Captain?"

"Bad news, sir. Orbital environment is too hostile for recon assets. I'm already moving to deploy drones in atmo."

"Roger. Take care you're not spotted by either side. It'd be kinda difficult to explain why a destroyer is here."

"Don't worry, sir. Not like we haven't done this for decades."

Cerun smiled, "Carry on, Valder. Get us a picture of what's going on down there."

Coalition of Sovereign Nations Regional Headquarters

Bangui, Central African Republic, Earth

Sol System, Independent Systems Alliance Space

6 July 2010/865 AS/3025

It was an auspicious day for an alliance of continental businesses. Today, was the unveiling of the African Continent's first true space port. All over Africa, a number of regional space ports had been constructed to facilitate the expansion of CSN and ISA economic, industrial, and infrastructure projects but this was the first that would allow the consistent traffic of Inner Sphere and ISA-spec DropShips and a real space elevator. The refurbishment on the Bangui M'Poko International Airport had been underway over the past three years after the release of ISA aid across the globe. It was determined early on that the central location of this international airport was ideal to allow for mass trade about the region. The land-locked location of the Central African Republic had cut it off from the lucrative and formally essential ocean trade lanes. Only so much cargo could be moved by land and river.

This was also a test of CSN peacemaking in the region. The constant power struggles between the disparate factions in Africa usually spilled into armed conflict with predictably tragic results. The attentions of the more prosperous nations on Earth off one another and toward the glaring inequities around the world had refocused their efforts. With their defense no longer concerned with rivals around the world they could now focus on the very real issue of raising the rest of the Earth to their standard. It was not a mission of mercy. International politics never were. They were concerned that if they let a portion of the Earth remain behind it would be perfect ground to ferment instability when they needed unity to face outside threats. The ISA saw untapped potential, a region rich with resources that could be used not only in the defense of their worlds but to bring prosperity to the desperate. The ISA methodology was forceful, some in the international community saw it as bullying, but the Civilian Council was determined to develop the underserved regions on Earth as quickly as possible. It was hard to argue with the results. Even the local warlords saw the benefits as roads were paved and villages served with not only essentials but luxuries. The present threat of military intervention also stayed the trigger happy, as the widely broadcast exploits on Antallos helped serve the propaganda purpose of reinforcing the superiority of the ISA military machine.

Liaison personnel and civilian observers watched the live broadcast of the first commercial space elevator launch from the heart of Africa to the waiting space station above. A cargo platform began its ascent toward the stars as a duo of Union-class DropShips made their landing at the brand-new vertical DropShip landing pads. The broadcast showed the President of the Central African Republic shaking the hand of Councilor Jack Ryan as a huge crowd of people looked on and cheered. It was one of the first major steps forward for the country and a sign that times were changing. The CSN folks then turned away and continued their work. There were still hundreds of projects that needed materials, manpower, and most of all drone allocations.

DropShip Ghost of Coromodir

Nonstandard Jump Point

Panzyr System, Aurigan Directorate Space

17 July 3025

The sensors of the Gram-class lit up as it linked to the probe network left behind by Lady Arano's invasion force. Sumire Meyer watched the sensors officer feed her a series of vector solutions to navigate their way through the planet's debris field.

"Commander," Oliveira announced, "transmission from Lady Arano."

Scarman nodded, "Put her through."

Lady Kamea Arano appeared on the bridge, "Commander. I trust you received the briefing from the contract sent your way."

"Yes. Drop us behind the lines and start wreaking havoc. I just need the targets."

"Unfortunately, the situation has changed. Alexander can fill you in."

Lord Alexander Madeira appeared next to Lady Arano, "We're making our final push against the Directorate's last major stronghold. With the support of House Decimis, we've gained the upper hand. Despite this, the Directorate was more prepared than on Weldry. Current information we have available is that they have managed to seize control of the space port. With that asset in their hands, they can call reinforcements down at will."

"What about the BLB?" Scarman asked, "They have the aerospace assets to deny the enemy such freedom of movement."

Madeira shook his head, "They're tied down to ensuring air superiority over our current battlespace."

"We have the enemy on the back foot here, Marcus," Arano emphasized, "but if they're able to coordinate their DropShips and get them to the battlefield, we've got problems."

"That's not all." Madeira added, "We've received word from Lady Centrella. There's been a major incident on Perdition. It looks like a terrorist action, a chemical attack against the port city of Harlow's Landing. Initial casualty reports estimate some eleven thousand dead."

"I thought these things weren't supposed to happen anymore." Scarman facepalmed.

"My thoughts exactly." Madeira nodded, "Unfortunately, the Taurians have responded predictably. Protector Calderon is claiming the attack was an act of Davion aggression in violation of the Ares Conventions. He's already calling it the 'Perdition Massacre.' House Davion have denied all knowledge of the attack."

"Unfortunately," Arano stroked her chin, "their denials will fall on deaf ears. Calderon won't believe anything Hanse Davion has to say."

"Needless to say, this accelerates our timetable." Maderia paced to the other side of Lady Arano, "We need to retake the throne before the situation gets any worse. If war were to erupt between the Suns and Concordat, it could easily spill into the Reach. We can't afford that kind of chaos, not now."

"Can't say I like the idea of a couple of superpowers inserting themselves in our campaign." Scarman noted.

"Agreed." Arano nodded, "Get your DropShips down to the surface. You should've already linked into the probe network we've left behind. We'll have a more complete intelligence picture by the time you land. We'll brief you then." Arano and Madeira disappeared from the bridge.

"Well," Oliveira shrugged, "you heard her. Meyer, you have an approach mapped in?"

"That I do, XO." Meyer began to slowly turn the Gram toward the first waypoint, "Damn thing's heavier than the Leopard, even more so with it and the Dragon strapped to the side."

"Try not to get the paint scratched on the way in."

Twenty kilometers from Decimis Memorial Spaceport

Panzyr

21 July 3025

In tandem, the Gram and Leopard landed under the relative calm of the cold, foggy day. Scarman was certain they were spotted on the way in, but Oliveira assured him that there was no apparent movement of enemy forces in the space port. He embarked with his two lances of 'mechs from the ramps of the Gram. He had managed to expand the Mentor's Ghosts after a few contracts in the bevy of independent worlds between the Reach, the Magistracy, and the Confederation. Four new MechWarriors decided to sign up over the course of the contracts, while they expanded their logistical, infantry, and vehicle force. There were more than a few tank commanders intrigued by the tech the Ghosts fielded. Two wheeled and tracked vehicle lances poured out of the Leopard: combined lances of MacArthur tanks, Rooikat AFVs, and Bruce IFVs.

Inside of Scarman's Konev his comms unit rang, "Ghost-One-One."

"Ghost-One-One, Sword-One-One." Arano's voice came over comms, "Happy to have you on-world. BLB and Restoration units have linked up with the 2nd Decimis Fusiliers and have the enemy engaged on multiple fronts. They're on the back foot, but if the Directorate manages to direct in reinforcements, our advance will grind to a halt." The holo-map in the cockpit lit up as it linked up with the drones in the sky, "We need you to punch through the enemy perimeter and secure the DropShip control center. Without real-time updates on the debris field Directorate ships will be cut off from the surface."

"Can't we just blow up the control center?" Scarman asked, "Easier, cleaner."

"Only as a last resort." Arano emphasized, "This world still needs to be able to direct in traffic without our presence. We would consign them to irrelevance for months, slowing our momentum."

"Roger."

"Wait." Arano went silent for several seconds, "I just got word, the ADV Coronach is requesting navigational aid. A huge Directorate DropShip is inbound. We need you to take that facility and deny them what they need. The Fusiliers will aid you on that front. Eliminate resistance around the security office, and their unit can take control of the automated defense system around the space port. I'm sending their frequency now."

A beep from the comms unit confirmed the transmission, "Received."

"Use the defenses as you see fit, Commander. We need this space port. Sword-One-One out." Arano's voice disappeared from Scarman's ears.

Scarman changed frequency to his lance commanders, "Company, Ghost-One-One. We have our objectives and a timetable on this. Transmitting now." He punched a button on the comms unit, "Ghost-Two-One, you and Spectre-Two-One will coordinate with the Fusiliers unit to seize control of the security office. Update the IFF when the job is done. Spectre-One-One, you're with us. We're going to begin engagement at long range to destroy as much resistance as possible before the turrets are seized. When they do, we advance. Company is then to converge on the DropShip control center. Try not to level the place. We have to seize that too."

"Wilco." The lance commanders replied in near unison.

"Let's get to it, people. Ghost-One-One out."

Security Office, Decimis Memorial Spaceport

Two infantrymen stood outside the bunker door and smoked their cigarettes. Their sergeant reported the landing of two unidentified DropShips, though how was a mystery. They held the Spaceport, and there was no way an enemy DropShip could make it through the debris field without becoming a part of it in short order. It wasn't their concern anyway. They were on their smoke break before they had to monitor the turrets and security cameras for another boring shift. The pair had nominally participated in the assault to capture the Spaceport but were in the rear the whole time. It was fine, they didn't have to fight against the now battle-hardened 2nd Decimis Fusiliers. As a reward for their 'heroic' actions, they had the privilege of watching over their comrades.

Over the din of wind and crunching of snow they heard something in the distance. One of them tossed their cigarette into the snow and shouldered their auto-rifle. He tapped his companion's shoulder and pointed to the ridgeline. They turned around and took a long drag. Together, they witnessed a series of smoke streaks from behind the ridgeline. In unison, they grabbed one another and threw open the heavy door to the security room. As they slammed it behind them, they felt the explosive terror of enemy fire. They heard the muffled sounds of vehicles and tanks starting their engines as hell fell around them. Shouts and screams made their way through the door as the calm of the day was interrupted by enemy action. Explosions rocked them off their feet as their comrades died outside the bunker. One of them clamored to the security camera station, desperate to see exactly what they were up against. The other grabbed a chair and rested their auto-rifle against it as they laid prone.

The soldier began to switch between the cameras around the facility. When they switched to cameras right outside, they were terrified. Tanks, vehicles, and 'mechs had crested the ridgeline and fired at their comrades who desperately fought to delay them. They switched to perimeter cameras. From there, they saw flashes of light, tell-tale signs of enemy fire. Moments later, the camera shook as the impacts of lasers, PPCs, and ballistic weapons rocked targets beyond. They were so wrapped up by the scenes before them they barely noticed the silence that fell around them. The violence of the attack did not wane, it simply stopped. They changed cameras back to their immediate surroundings.

Their comrades were dead. Where once a vehicle lance and infantry platoon stood, craters remained. Slowly, they turned their head toward the door. There was no knocking, no engines, nothing. Complete silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Then the door blew open.

"Ghost-One-One, Edge-One-One." A voice came over comms.

Scarman stole a glance at the comms unit after his last ERPPC volley, "Ghost-One-One, send."

"We've secured the base's defenses. You're clear to advance. We'll send a couple APCs with your vehicle lance to secure the DropShip control center, over."

Scarman nodded, "Roger, out." Scarman switched frequencies to the command circuit, "Lance Commanders, Ghost-One-One. Advance. Let the enemy get preoccupied with the turrets. Blast apart the enemy and watch your targets, out."

He willed forward his Konev and began the advance. They were only three kilometers away from the perimeter of the spaceport, a distance his forces could cover in minutes. He picked up a radio intercept from an unencrypted Directorate channel.

"They've taken control of our damned turrets! All units, target the turrets before the enemy closes the gap!" One voice ordered.

"Enemy are already in the wire!" another voice proclaimed.

"Goddamnit, handle the fucking turrets! We don't wanna get nailed in the rear!" the first voice retorted, panic creeping into their voice.

Scarman chuckled to himself as he spotted a Wolverine two kilometers away. He locked his ERPPCs to the target and loosed the shots. He zoomed in and witnessed their effect on target. Both weapons rang true and obliterated the left torso clean off the 'mech. Moments later, one of the now friendly automated defenses poured decidedly unfriendly amounts of AC2 ammunition into the exposed structure. The autocannon rounds pierced into the naked reactor housing and pierced into the core. With incredible violence the 'mech melted down and spewed metal and radiation across the battlefield. He kept moving.

As his two lances closed the distance, he observed the chaos sown by the spaceport's defenses. Directorate forces were pulled in multiple directions, taking fire from the security office and the turrets scattered around the spaceport. Scarman's own lance reached out with rail gun, missile, laser, and particle to their opponents now less than a kilometer away. A Centurion and Jenner saw them approach and the Ghosts greeted them with overwhelming coordinated firepower. Two rail gun slugs tore into the Jenner and smashed it into scrap. Lasers sliced into the armor of the Centurion which bubbled and ablated at an alarming rate. Missiles originally targeted at the Jenner shifted to the Centurion and smashed into its lefthand side. What armor remained turned to slag as explosions took the 'mech out of the game. A Panther turned to face them, only to be blown away by the Ghosts on the ridgeline.

Scarman and his pair of lances reached the outskirts of the spaceport. Directorate vehicles and 'mechs were desperately attempting to react to the angles of fire their enemies exposed them to. He picked a nearby Commando and let loose a rail gun round. A metal slug slammed into the center torso of the poor scout at hypersonic velocities, instantly coring the light 'mech and leaving it limp on the battlefield. He switched to an SRM carrier that got uncomfortably close. Before he was able to fire off his PPCs, the vehicle and its partner carrier unleashed a hellish barrage of one hundred twenty barely guided missiles into his 'mech. Lasers automatically began targeting and firing on the missiles, but the sheer wall of high explosive death meant that something was gonna give. As the first missiles smashed into his shields, he unleashed his response and leveled one carrier with a pair of ERPPC blasts. Quickly, his shields gave out as explosion after explosion shattered the protective barrier and began to crater his armor. His neurohelmet cut off the feedback from the physical stresses of the near overwhelming firepower. Nearly eighty missiles hammered the Konev, straining his gyro very close to the tipping point. As he was just about to recover and destroy the last carrier, a lancemate annihilated the offender with an alpha strike from their Gundam. The rest of the Directorate force, overwhelmed by the numbers and firepower brought to bear upon them turned tail and ran.

For a moment, the battlefield was still. What turrets remained ceased fire, all Directorate forces had been either neutralized or routed. Temporarily, at least. Scarman looked at the armor readout of his Konev. His right arm and torso were half torn up as the armor displayed yellow on his HUD. He checked his link to all recon assets. Directorate forces within a few kilometers were in retreat. He placed waypoints around the spaceport and assigned lances for area security.

"Edge-One-One, Ghost-One-One." Scarman announced over comms, "You're clear to take the DropShip control center."

"Wilco, out." The Fusiliers sent a pair of APCs to quickly gain control of the control center. The pair raced to the DropShip control center under the care of a vehicle lance. He changed comms frequencies.

"Star Ghost-One, Ghost-One-One, over."

"Star Ghost-One. Go ahead, sir." Oliveira responded.

"You and Star Ghost-Two relocate to the spaceport. We should lock this place down tight, just in case the Directorate tries a counterattack or landing. Also, get a hold of Lady Arano. They left behind a couple of DropShips. That might be of use to the Restoration."

"Roger, sir."

Panzyr II HPG Facility

The local Precentor and paltry ROM contingent observed the battle in earnest. They had received and rebroadcast Lady Kamea Arano's message throughout the Reach, perhaps some of their siblings in the order spread her message further than the local periphery bubble. What interested them were the weapons used by the Restoration against the Directorate. New vehicles, new 'mechs, and a whole hell of a lot of ordinance considered lost for a few centuries showed up with the Restoration armed forces. They had aerospace assets, something the Aurigan Coalition had never had before. The rumors from Weldry had proven true as the Directorate was qualitatively completely outmatched. ROM wanted to get a hold of this technology and send it back to Terra for study, but that was impossible. Lady Arano ran a tight organization, and what ROM assets were in the Aurigan Reach were spread very thin. They consoled themselves with photos and battlefield reports, with what information they had sent as priority traffic to Terra. ROM analysts would corroborate their findings and confirm fears they held, but that was not the responsibility of the personnel of the Panzyr HPG. They simply watched, sent, and received messages. Nothing more.

House Decimis Estate

Lord Pierre-Louis Decimis and Lady Arano stood over a map in the makeshift Decimis war room. Lord Madeira moved pieces on the map representing the forces of the Restoration and the Directorate after the latest reports from the field.

"Well, I'll be damned." Lord Decimis smiled as the map reflected the current state of the spaceport, "The Ghosts continue to impress."

"I'm more impressed with the 2nd." Arano countered, "How did you keep them so well supplied?"

"Your uncle was desperate to keep hold of Panzyr." Decimis tapped on the spaceport, "He funneled a tremendous amount of manpower and materiel into my system. A few misplaced line items spread out on cargo manifests over a couple years along with a strong scavenger business can funnel enough equipment to give the Directorate a headache. Applied strategically, it wrested away control of a planet."

"With Panzyr firmly under our control, we now have a reasonable industrial and agricultural base to continue the campaign." Madeira observed, "However, we must remain vigilant. Though the debris field is a shield against potential aggression, a successful penetration could result in a disastrous famine."

"Explain, Alex." Arano ordered.

Decimis cut in, "Our agricultural output has been strained under Directorate rule. Much of our agrarian output has been seized for the core worlds, primarily Coromodir. This next harvest has the potential to restabilize my world, barely. A dedicated assault would inevitably target agricultural sites and starve my people. I don't know if we have the hardware to withstand such an onslaught." He shook his head.

"We can't be everywhere, but I can pledge a mixed 'mech and armored company for your world's defense. They can train your forces in the use of our new hardware and in time House Decimis can expand its armed forces." Arano nodded.

"Will a company be enough to fight off a Directorate attack?" Decimis asked.

"Without outside assistance, the Directorate should not be able to mount a significant offensive," Madeira emphasized, "especially with the inevitable losses that would be sustained while in transit."

"Do you expect outside interference?" Decimis cocked an eyebrow.

"One can never rule anything out. The recent events on Perdition could push Protector Calderon to provide assistance to the Directorate in order to secure their anti-spinward borders. That's why we have to keep the momentum up."

"Hmm…" Arano sat down on a chair in the war room, "How likely do you think it is that the Concordat would provide materiel to the Directorate?"

"Given the amount we've seen on the battlefield?" Madeira shrugged, "Very, unfortunately. I would hazard a guess that they are already providing hardware and logistical support to the Directorate given the numbers we've seen on Panzyr. The only reason we haven't seen more was our swift action to seize the spaceport and hold it for as long as we did. According to the assets deployed by the BLB, there were multiple DropShips ready to reinforce their comrades just as the 2nd and the Ghosts retook the spaceport."

As the conversation seemed to wrap up, Generals Cerun and Rosse entered the war room. They saluted and took their places around the map.

"We have good news for you, Lady Arano." Cerun began, "I think an infusion of more military hardware would be welcome, no?"

"Of course," Arano's ears perked up, "but where would we get it? The Magistracy has more to deliver, sure, but that won't be for a few months."

"I have a contact that provided us with the location of a cache of equipment." Cerun placed his hands behind his back dramatically, "It should be more than enough to reinforce our numbers and provide Restoration forces a reliable second-line combat capability that you currently lack."

"Where is this cache, General?" Madeira asked.

"I have to meet in person with my contacts to get the exact location. Rest assured, General Rosse will remain with you to provide the heavy armored fist that she so readily provides."

"Can we get a timetable at least?" Madeira implored.

"Two to three months. Rosse will let you know when I've found it and I'll link back up with you en route to the coordinates."

Arano paused, "That's reasonable. I wish you success, General Cerun." She nodded to him, "Now, General Rosse, our next target is Smithon…"

Majesty Metals and Manufacturing, BattleMech Factory

Delphi, Canopus IV

Canopus System, Magistracy of Canopus Space

4 October 865 AS/2010/3025

It had taken a few months, but the first complete BattleMech line in Magistracy space in centuries was operational. Engineers from the Independent Systems Alliance, disguised as MMM workers, aided them in their rapid assembly of their licensed BattleMech lines. The first line ready to begin production was for the Black Panther. The initial runs of material manufacture were successful, as were the first weapons manufacturing lines. Now it was time to put it all together and make proper weapons platforms.

The Black Panther appealed to the existing modus operandi of the Magistracy Armed Forces. Light units capable of rapid maneuver to exploit enemy weaknesses. The state of the MAF forced the usage of such strategy, but this 'mech promised to deliver in just such a manner. The autocannon design provided by Norinco was appealing, but ammunition dependency was something that the MAF could hardly afford so they opted for an ISA-type particle projector cannon in its place. The laser upgrade modules allowed them to utilize existing stocks of laser weapons. The machine guns were replaced by native Magistracy designs as they determined their own were more capable than the original specifications. The computers, while sophisticated, were robust and able to be produced after extensive trial and error in the manufacturing process. The software was on another level. Computer engineers in MMM had severe issues reproducing the suite for the Black Panther and only just got it to work under the wire. The most powerful of the defensive systems, the 'shield' system, was a technological marvel unseen anywhere in the Inner Sphere. Such a capability increased survivability by a factor of at least five according to the engineers.

The floor manager, a distant relative of the Centrella house, oversaw the activated assembly line as machines whirred and employees did their duties. They checked the estimated assembly rate of the 'mechs: the first complete 'mech would come off the line in a month, then two a month at current speed with the potential for even faster assembly as they worked out the kinks. They shook their head. 'Mech assembly times were in the months, not weeks. With such a rapid line for production, they could completely replace the Magistracy's light 'mechs in a matter of years and have even more held in reserve for the inevitable losses. Weapons were projected to be even faster, with the most complex ISA-spec PPCs expected in days. It exceeded even their most optimistic expectations.

Down below, MMM and ISA technicians tweaked and modified settings on the machines to ensure everything was within spec. The tolerances of the Black Panther were tight, and any potential issues had to be solved now to ensure expedient deployment. The first Black Panther was the key. This 'shakedown run' had to work out every last problem in assembly. Despite the stakes, morale was high. The Magistracy had been undergunned for far too long. This factory was to be a symbol of the renewed industry of the nation and true independence unknown since before the Star League.

Outside, in a nondescript building, a trio of ROM operatives kept watch. Majesty Metals and Manufacturing had kept a very tight lid on the situation, but they managed to obtain some alarming information. This BattleMech parts factory had rebuilt its capacity and was now in the process of assembling full 'mechs. They had no idea of what model nor where the funding came from for such an endeavor, but it was clear that the Magistracy was set to rearm itself. They were determined to learn as much as they could, so they set a network of electronic surveillance devices around the perimeter to catch a glimpse of anything that might tip them off. It would be a long watch, but ComStar was patient. They had existed for centuries, and they knew the comings and goings of the Inner Sphere. They were not ones who took kindly to being kept in the dark.

Command Information Center, Castle Nautilus

Artru

Artru System, Aurigan Directorate Space

7 October 865 AS/2010/3025

Major Kulap Metharom read over the latest report one more time.

It is expected that a representative of the Aurigan Restoration is en route to visit Castle Nautilus. According to last reports, they are in system and days away. The ISV Lady Jessica will attempt to make contact first before proceeding to the surface. All personnel are expected to assist the representative in any way reasonable.

She blinked hard. Her eyes still closed, she thought perhaps she was experiencing a hallucination. She opened her eyes, hoping the words has shifted and changed.

Nope, she thought to herself, still the same absurd shit.

"Ma'am," the comms officer called, "incoming from the Lady Jessica."

Metharom nodded, "Put them through."

Fleet Captain Maria Anahera's holo-image appeared across from her, "They're supposed to be in system at this point." Anahera was clearly frustrated as she examined the holo-table, "Nothing on this end, either…"

"Could they possess stealth technology, ma'am?" Metharom asked her superior.

"We've had no examples of such in the Inner Sphere, not to mention that the Restoration is a periphery power in a civil war. That wouldn't be consistent with our observations."

"The possibility is there though, right?"

Silence and pursed lips from her superior were the answer.

"I do agree, we should have seen them by now. No evidence of their presence is a bit suspect."

"Ma'am," comms interjected, "we have an incoming transmission."

"Source?" Metharom raised an eyebrow.

"In system. The sensor net is closing on the location, but it will take some time."

Anahera glanced at them, "Put them through."

Metharom gave her a disbelieving look, "Ma'am?"

"Our ECM and ECCM protocols are in place. At the first sign of intrusion cut it off, even if you have to physically destroy the receiver."

The comms officer took a deep breath, "Understood." They pressed a few more buttons on the console, "Putting them through now." A static-filled avatar appeared between the officers beside the holo-table, "We're getting a proper handshake protocol from them." The avatar's image cleaned up to reveal the figure of former Fleet Admiral Cerun. All ISA natives in the room immediately hopped out of their seats and to attention.

"At ease." Cerun motioned with his hands, "Gods, y'all are jumpy."

"Forgive us, sir," Anahera lowered her arm and shook her head, "but when you haven't been seen in decades…"

"Ma'am," Metharom was very confused, "who is he?"

"Ah, forgive me, Major. This is…" Anahera glanced at Cerun, "you've been reinstated at Siridar Bashar?"

"Glad the data's been updated." Cerun smiled, "I hear you have a base for me, Major."

Metharom blinked, "Forgive me, but we were told to expect a representative of the Aurigan Restoration."

"Who do you think you're looking at?" Cerun asked with a smirk.

Anahera's mouth was slightly agape, "Sir?"

"I'll fill you in when I get planetside. Even in an empty system and safe comms, some things are best said in person."

"…Right." Anahera cleared her throat, "We'll transmit an approach vector and landing zone. See you soon, sir."

Cerun's image disappeared from the CIC. Metharom turned to her superior's image, "Ma'am, can you please tell me what's going on here?"

"What I can tell you would only scratch the surface. Take some time to examine the ship's database. There's enough there in the sections you're able to access."

"…Okay, ma'am."

9 October 865 AS/2010/3025

"Well, I'll be damned." Cerun waltzed in flanked by Fleet Captains Valder and Anahera. There to greet them was the staff of the CIC and Major Metharom who snapped to attention, "You all really took to renovating the place. Looks nothing like a normal FOB 'round these parts."

"Well fortified, some manufacturing capability, they were ready for a ground war." Valder observed.

"The Star League were nothing if not meticulous about their methods of maintaining their military projection capability." Anahera nodded.

The CIC staff stood in silent attention as their superiors discussed the tour, "Gods, at ease." Cerun shook his head with a smile, "Sometimes I forget what my station inspires."

"They salute the rank, sir, not the man." Valder verbally jabbed with a grin.

"Shut up, Valder." Cerun laughed, "Alright, Major Metharom was it? Give me a rundown on the defensive capabilities of this Castle Nautilus."

Metharom cleared her throat which brought up a holo-image of the castle's perimeter, "Sir. We have refurbished and enhanced the turrets of the perimeter with our sensor net and total battlefield integration software. Inner Sphere weapons are still quite capable, if bulky. The improved sensor suite allows for greater automatic target prioritization and enhanced accuracy. The drone vehicle fleet, as you were introduced to earlier today, has been upgraded similarly. The rudimentary base AI relied on overwhelming potential enemies with sheer weight of numbers. The VI suite we've installed is much better at tactical, operational, and strategic analysis. It responds more rapidly and intelligently to battlefield conditions."

"I was given a brief tour of the Star League armory. What kind of numbers are we looking at in terms of hardware?"

"According to the base's records, Castle Nautilus was host to a Regimental Combat Team. This particular RCT was slightly oversized at four regiments with hardware to match: One artillery; one heavy assault; one infantry and one armored. That's thirty-six self-propelled artillery, assault and heavy BattleMechs, APCs, IFVs, and tanks all combat ready. That count does not include the drones which can also be piloted by humans. We have shipped off individual examples for study on Cradle and Earth, but like any good military the Star League had some reserves just in case equipment broke."

Cerun whistled, "Holy shit. That's more than enough to outfit Lady Arano's second line troops. I understand that this base was destroyed in what is now certainly not an apocryphal video game?"

"Correct, sir."

"Seems like we've rewritten a timeline." Cerun shrugged, "Not the most outlandish thing I've done in my career, but it still surprises my when the multiverse does shit like this." He turned to Anahera, "How soon can you accept and turn over control of Castle Nautilus to the Restoration?"

"We're prepared to do it tomorrow, if necessary, sir." Anahera nodded, "We have a team on Argos prepping for a new FOB out of the direct line of sight of the conflict. We can't relocate everyone immediately, but we were also instructed to assist in training the Restoration proper."

"I noticed the uniforms." Valder observed, "I'm guess that's not just for snow camo."

"Consider us ghosts from the past." Anahera stated ominously, "We were also informed to avoid direct conflict with the Taurian Concordat."

"Doesn't mean you can't." Cerun stroked his chin, "Okay, we're gonna stay for a week, learn the ins and outs of this Castle before we go back. If we bring the Concordat with us, you may have to defend yourselves."

"Occupational hazard." Anahera shrugged, "If they come at us shouting, we'll simply respond with speakers."

"Glad to see the Triple-S takes after the First Fleet." Cerun smiled, "Now, can you run me through what your planned training curriculum's gonna look like?"

War Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

High Smithon Orbit

Smithon System, Arano Restoration Space

18 October 3025

Lady Kamea Arano considered her options. Having Lord Joseph Karosas on her side was valuable, given Smithon's proximity to the heart of Aurigan space. The Restoration needed to hem in the Directorate, and this was the perfect system for that. The proposed mission to get him on board was suspect, however. The destruction of the DropShip Newgrange seemed reasonable enough, as all information gathered indicated that it was smuggling weapons to the Directorate. It was more heavily armored than any Union-class DropShip and always seemed to have convenient armed escort. Yet something about it bothered her.

"General Rosse," Arano glanced across the table at the co-head of the Black Lotus Battalion, "what do you think of the scenario as presented?"

"There is something very wrong here." Rosse shook her head, "The Newgrange has a taint on it that eludes us here, but it is impossible to determine what that is unless we see it for ourselves."

Arano turned to the commander of the Mentor's Ghosts, "Commander Scarman?"

"Cracking that egg with what we've got would be easy enough." Scarman stroked his chin, "My concern is for civilian casualties. We don't have enough intel to know exactly who's on board."

Lord Alexander Madeira stroked his chin, "Would it be possible to disable or destroy the engines and seize the contents?"

Scarman examined the reported armor values and brought up an image of his Dragon-class DropShip Mentor's Blade, "We've not really used this in its role. It's been sitting on the sidelines this whole campaign. Given the weapons it has and our fire direction accuracy, we should be able to knock out the legs without too much collateral damage to the rest of the superstructure."

"Where are we supposed to hit it, Lady Arano?" Rosse asked.

"In a couple weeks' time it is scheduled to make a stop on Smithon's moon Anvelt to refuel before continuing on its voyage." Arano replaced the holo-images with a recon scan of the refueling station, "Our proximity to the core systems means that while we hold Smithon, we still don't have firm control on the entirety of the Smithon system."

Rosse examined the readout closely, "This is a civilian facility, no hardening at all. If Lord Karosas wanted the Newgrange destroyed, it could easily be done by destroying one of the fueling stations."

"That's just it." Arano shook her head sadly, "Lord Karosas sent the last remnants of his personal guard after the Newgrange two weeks ago. A lance of hardened 'MechWarriors. They were summarily destroyed—a complete loss. There were no survivors."

Scarman whistled, "Alright, I guess it is more than a civilian vessel. What kind of opposition are we looking at?"

The holo-image filled in with several red boxes as Madeira cleared his throat, "We've observed several patrols after Lord Karosas informed us of our target. We estimate at least two lances of BattleMechs with vehicle support and a possible quick reaction force in reserve in case things do go poorly for the defenders. Rosse?" He turned to the BLB general, "What is your idea for the battle ahead?"

"Hmm…" She put up holo-representations of the Blazing Cat and her other assets and placed them away from the fueling station, "We can drop several kilometers away from the fueling station and fire upon the DropShip with the Blazing Cat's artillery. That would be enough to draw away a portion of the defenders. Then, Commander Scarman, your Ghosts would have their opening."

Scarman examined the facility and chose a point just south of the facility, "We could drop here. In the chaos, we could mask our arrival by dropping in the Leopard. We'd only have a lance, but that'd be enough to deal with what's left of their security and to paint the legs. The Dragon can shred the legs, grounding the Union for the rest of my people to land and take control of both the fueling point and the DropShip. By the time the QRF shows up, we'd have the facility under our control."

"It would be a strategic victory if we could take the facility with minimal damage." Madeira nodded, "I am concerned that we may have to inflict more damage on the Union than the destruction of the legs."

"We can hit the nav array." Scarman enlarged the image of the Union, "With primary navigation gone, it would be blind."

Madeira stroked his chin, "With the Dragon, that could crack the whole ship wide open. Do we want to risk total destruction?"

"It's not the best option we've got, but it's an option. If they were smart about the additional armor, then they should have enough to withstand a barrage from the Dragon over the rest of the ship. There's only so much armor you can put around a ship's nav array before it's useless."

"At least with this much armor we will not have to worry about the weapons of the Union." Rosse mused.

"They weren't prepared for a fight, but if they provide weapons to the enemy then they must be stopped." Arano stated conclusively, "General, Commander, finalize your battleplan and notify me when you do. As soon as we get word of the Newgrange's arrival, we must be ready."

Freeport-One

Helm

Helm System, Free Worlds League Space

4 November 865 AS/2010/3025

Helm had cooled down after the attempted attack on John Deere by Irian Technologies. There had been no response from the aggressors and no efforts made to retrieve the survivors of the assault through either official or unofficial channels were made. The mercenary survivors had already divulged useful information about their contract and were treated with care. The Systems Security Service were still in the process of determining the best course of action for the now dispossessed mercenaries. They debated sending them off to join the Black Lotus Battalion in their efforts to aid the Arano Restoration, perhaps employing them as trainers for the embattled army. They tossed around the idea of sending them to Cradle to get them out of the eye of the rest of the Sphere for a bit. Overall, what they were concerned about was operational security and the continued secrecy of their operation.

The former Castle Brian facility had proven not only be a treasure trove of technology but also into Star League defensive doctrine. In the strategically neutered period at the tail end of the Age of War, Castles Brian were designed to be a hard stop against the conventional militaries of the era. The Terran Hegemony, very much like the ISA, operated at a severe personnel and materiel disadvantage against the rest of the Inner Sphere. These fortresses were to hold out against hostile action until friendly reinforcements could arrive and relieve the defenders. This doctrine carried into Star League era, as no opponent could threaten the Star League strategically. Military analysts compared and contrasted the design of Helm's fortress to those found on New Dallas. Given the differing terrains of their respective sites, the Castles varied wildly in their construction and application of defenses. Military planners saw the potential of such facilities as the ISA had built one on the surface of Luna but balked at the strategic vulnerability as dedicated orbital control would reduce such fortresses to minor inconveniences against a dedicated opponent. The lack of any real way to retaliate against orbital threats made them vulnerable yet their resilience against terrestrial opponents had to be understood.

John Deere had carved a good presence on Helm and made significant inroads into the agritech industry of the Inner Sphere. The simplicity of John Deere products combined with generous licensing prices for spare parts and maintenance equipment had expanded their reach into the Lyran Commonwealth, the Capellan Confederation, and even the Federated Suns (thanks to the deft maneuvering of the home office on Earth). There were discussions with the home office to make their equipment compatible solely with their software lest they void their warrantee, but their representative on site argued that such a move would limit the long-term growth of their brand in the Inner Sphere for marginal short-term gains. Experience with competing Inner Sphere products showed that manufactured obsolescence was no longer viable as competitors engineered their products to last centuries. He wanted John Deere products to be as prolific as their competitors and that meant smart engineering and parts interchangeability with like items in the rest of the Sphere.

There was a meeting scheduled for the day mandated by the Triple-S concerning the future of their operations on Helm. The meeting's attendees sat in discussion amongst themselves as they awaited the Triple-S representative. President of Agriculture and Turf of the Free Worlds League David Jackson checked his paperwork and the meeting itinerary as the ISA personnel summoned did the same. It was a packed schedule and there was little time for delay. Almost on cue, Triple-S officer Sam Fisher entered the meeting room and wasted little time in changing the holo displays in the center of the table and in front of each attendee.

"Alright, people," Fisher began, "things here in Helm are the quietest they've been since our arrival. Glad to see it, honestly. Now, let's get to the first line item. What to do with the mercenaries. Higher and I have been in contact with the Triple-S brass at home and we've reached a decision: We're gonna reform their company and send them to assist the Restoration. We have to get them off world, but that's not terribly difficult. Freeport-One's distance from Helmsdown should provide sufficient cover to get them off world. We're still figuring out the details of their deployment and all that, not to mention how to get them to the conflict zone. We'll let you know when and how that all shakes out."

"Related to that, we've heard nothing from IrTech regarding the attack. No backroom communiques, no threats, not even an inquiry with the local government. They're completely hands off right now. Grim and I agree that's pretty significant. We don't quite know what to make of it, but this does give us the freedom to track the other real threat in the system with little distraction. We've already a few officers employed by the local government over the past few months under the noses of the local nobility and that real threat: ComStar."

Anna Grímsdóttir stood up, "On the ComStar front: Precentor Emilio Rachan has been confirmed as head of the HPG facility here on Helm and we've gotten word of some of their movements. Reconnaissance assets have been spotted around the factory over the past few months in ever increasing number. We have reason to believe these are ROM elements and have been keeping them under our own watchful eyes. Within the halls of power, Rachan's people have been attempting to dig up anything and everything to discredit John Deere and put pressure on our presence here. Just like IrTech, they're finding that very difficult. President Jackson here runs a tight ship all in the letter of the law. Their avenues of legal tomfoolery are nonexistent. We have done some theory crafting with other analysts and higher to determine the feasibility of ComStar pinning an atrocity on an agricultural company and have determined it's unlikely. In order to remain in relative safety, we're maintaining a large portion of our resources on ComStar surveillance."

Office of the Precentor, HPG Station

Precentor Emilio Rachan read the letter from Precentor ROM Tojo Jarlath on Terra. The news from ROM Headquarters alarmed him. Analysts poured over the vehicles used by John Deere's security forces and compared them to designs around the Sphere. The only probable match came from Antallos, in the forces of the Independent Systems Alliance. Pictures highlighted the similarities in shape and weapons fire in the battles witnessed on Helm and Antallos. Though evidence was relatively scant, the analysts were confident that John Deere possessed similar technology to the ISA.

He had to confirm these assertions by Terra. He had to find out if an agricultural company hundreds of light years away from Antallos obtained equipment from what Terra considered the most technologically advanced faction in the Inner Sphere aside from themselves. If they had obtained the same equipment, how and why? What interest did John Deere have in Helm to warrant such security for a decidedly backwater factory? His own mission screamed at him: they knew of the memory core. Despite this, he understood that verification was necessary. They needed information from John Deere's facility to have a true understanding of both their purpose and probable ties to the ISA.

On that front, his ROM elements have attempted to gain access to the inner workings of John Deere to no avail. They had a few operatives as employees of the company in menial positions, but no one had been able to dig up anything of relevance over the past few months. Financial earnings, new product releases, commercial agreements, everything had been secured against erstwhile intrusion. They had recovered gigabytes of data from unattended computers but had not been able to bypass the security on the copied files. According to his IT specialists, the encryption was not tagged as military, but commercial. At considerable expense, ComStar had managed to purchase a great number Motherlode produced computers from Antallos and shipped them back to Terra for study. The ISA made no effort to restrict their sale, so ComStar purchased enough for research and to read any data off Motherlode data sources for relevant branches of the HPG network. Technicians that attempted to access the files retrieved from John Deere on these computers ran into a password prompt. Their attempts at brute force on some recovered data resulted in the files being completely inaccessible to them. Other decryption methods at their disposal were being tested on purchased computers on Terra to see if they could be applied to ISA commercial technology. That research would not benefit him for some time, so that data would remain unknown.

Observations efforts revealed rare glimpses of the security forces of John Deere. Their uniforms changed according to the season, and they patrolled the factory grounds in a pair of exceedingly rare, modified Gallant Urban Assault Vehicles. This by itself stood out to Rachan as evidence that they had found at the very least a Star League-era cache on world and utilized the equipment in their local defense. These differed from the vehicles of the failed mercenary raid, but in the eyes of the Precentor of Helm he saw that it was necessary to find out more about this young business. He had a gameplan and the right person for the job.

He pressed a button on his desk, "Send in Adept Leng."

"Right away, Precentor." Came the reply.

Minutes later, the robed figure of Adept Samuel Leng appeared before him. A member of Rho of the Com Guards, Leng was developed into a weapon by both the Com Guards and ROM. Trained by the best instructors in ComStar and enhanced by the shadow projects of the Blessed Order, Leng was the embodiment of ComStar's surgical implements on the galactic stage. His last deployments were in support of ComStar's efforts in the relatively recent Free Worlds League civil war and the subsequent struggles for power afterward.

"Precentor Rachan." Leng bowed deeply.

Rachan acknowledged the weapon of a man, "Adept." He nodded as Leng rose, "I hope your rest was fruitful."

"Thank you for your concern, Precentor. It did as it was required."

"Glad to hear it. I have a new assignment for you." Rachan handed across a thick document, "Were you briefed on John Deere?"

"Yes, Precentor." Leng began to leaf through the papers, "A brand new agritech company here on Helm, though their products have appeared across the sphere in their brief existence. You want to know more."

"Correct." Rachan gave the Adept a few minutes to review the document in some depth.

"So, you need a more vulnerable point of infiltration. Hmm…" Leng pressed a button on the Precentor's desk and brought up a holo image of the John Deere factory, "Their data require a key, one that their personnel possess. The best bet would be to obtain the one held by the president of the company…"

"You see our dilemma, Leng." Rachan highlighted a section of the second floor of the building, unmapped by their operatives, "What I assume to be their executive wing is completely unknown to us. Given the remodeling after John Deere obtained the factory, we can assume that any blueprints of the building as is have been changed."

"That is a dilemma." He zoomed out to the exterior of the building, "There are some access points here. I could attempt infiltration on the second floor. However, their security is tight. They have sentries posted all over on semi-randomized patrol patterns. Are we sure this is a lowly agritech company?"

"No." Rachan answered simply, "They must have outside backing of some kind."

"Will I have support for this?" Leng asked.

"Of course. You will have the full backing of our ROM agents here on Helm as well as any equipment you need. We need to know what they truly are, Adept Leng."

"Understood, Precentor."

John Deere Factory

11 November 865 AS/2010/3025

"We've got something on the scope here." The security sensors officer reported.

Captain Kumari Vaishnavi stepped behind them with a cup of coffee and examined the holo display. It had been a long day and the night shift was about to rotate in, "Signature is too small for vehicles… Can you punch that up?"

The sensors officer zoomed in and turned up the holo imager resolution, "People. Looks like a squad, armed."

"Distance?" Vaishnavi asked.

"Two kilometers. Lucky we spotted them on thermal. Optical would have no chance in that dense bush."

"Give me a drone feed, visual spectrum only." The officer complied and a two-dimensional window opened on the imager. It tracked the location of the unknown contacts and revealed the slight rustling of trees, "Damn, they're not bad. Get another drone on them. I want to know exactly what they're armed with."

They simply nodded and ordered an additional pair of small drones to follow the party as it progressed closer to the factory, "Should have a more detailed image for you now." The holo image switched to mixed sensors, "Oh damn, they're not messing around."

Vaishnavi examined the image. Six figures, two with what appeared to be heavy machineguns, four with long arms, two with heavy weapons strapped to their backs, "You're not wrong. Put the factory on alert. Secure the principals, then mobilize our cav and capture them but take no chances."

"Aye, ma'am."

Factory Outskirts

Adept Leng led his Level I unit through the thick brush that surrounded the John Deere Factory. He purposefully avoided the obvious paths of infiltration to evade any patrols the agritech company might deploy. Their insertion was uneventful, as ComStar had diverted the local government away from the site in a similar manner to Irian Technologies. The ComGuard dedicated a small squadron for aerial support well above the site, as the effectiveness of John Deere's anti-aerospace assets were understood. He had Level II vehicle and 'mech units on standby for hot extraction. He would not underestimate what had already proved to be a capable opponent.

His reduced Level I unit was necessary for his mission plan. When the unit penetrated facility security, they would establish a tight perimeter while he proceeded within and obtained a hardware key, ideally from the President's office. No plan survived contact with the enemy, and he remembered that lesson quickly.

"Zeta-One to Gamma-One." Leng's comms chirped. It was the leader of the aerospace squadron.

"Gamma-One, go ahead, over." Leng replied.

"You have multiple vehicles headed toward your position, estimated at one kilometer and closing, over."

"Straight at us?" He asked.

"Looks like it."

"Shit." Leng turned to his second-in-command, "Take out the TAG and be ready to lock on to the nearest vehicle as soon as we see one. Get our AT out and be ready to engage." He returned his attention to his comms, "Zeta-One, be ready to engage our target as soon as we light it up, over."

"Copy, Gamma-One. Out." The line went quiet.

In moments, he leapt into action. With a rapid series of instructions, he ordered his unit spread out amongst the trees and brush in anticipation of the enemy. His two AT-wielding members unsaddled their backpacks and began to set up for anti-vehicle warfare. They each brought five Light Anti-Vehicle Weapons just for this occasion. The machine gunners cleared out their fields of fire and set up their LMGs in the direction of the potential enemy force. He found a good patch of ground with his second to both oversee the rest of the unit and have a clear enough line of sight to TAG an enemy vehicle. He kept a solid grip on his T-88c Assault Gun and checked his ammo. He keyed up his comms to his support units.

"Gamma-One to Aspida." Leng called.

"Aspida-One, go ahead Gamma-One." Came the reply.

"We need ground support now. Enemy is one click out and closing. We're tagging a point for immediate smoke and mine bombardment."

"Roger. Three rounds, two FASCAM, one smoke."

Leng nodded to his second who targeted a point a few hundred meters away.

"Gamma-One, FASCAM two rounds, smoke one round on target, over."

"Roger, out." Leng motioned his people to get down.

"Artillery?" Vaishnavi watched the holo display as rounds exploded in front of the cavalry platoon, "Do we know where that came from?" she asked.

"We have a firing solution for our long-range missiles and drones." The security officer confirmed.

"Initiate counter-battery fire and get me eyes on where they fired from."

"On it." RADARs meshed into the factory sensor net quickly locked on to the location of the offending artillery pieces twenty kilometers away, "Found their location. Conducting counter-battery fire and drone interdiction." Moments later, the 'fwoosh' of multiple missile batteries signaled the response of John Deere's static defenses.

"Eyes?" Vaishnavi asked.

"One moment." The holo display updated itself with the image of an artillery company on the move, "Gotta admire good fire discipline. Fired one small volley and already on the move."

"Take them out of play. Drones are now weapons free on all hard targets."

The security officer held a hand to an earcup on their headset, "Ma'am, Beta Company reports they're hitting mines. Those outside of the artillery barrage site are diverting around, but we've already had two Vernius' tracked."

"Shit." Her eyes darted to her reserve list, "We need to clear that minefield. The rest of Beta advances toward the infantry contacts and establishes a perimeter. Make it clear we know where they are and that they can't escape. Spin Alpha up to get the stuck elements of Beta out of harm's way and cover the flanks. Artillery can't be the only surprises this element has up their sleeve. Are we keyed on their comms?"

"We have a frequency, but they're encrypted, and it'll take some time to crack."

"Just make sure it's recorded. I want to know who we're dealing with." Just then, lasers, particles, and guns rocked Beta Company's vehicles, "Where in the hell did that come from!?"

Leng smiled as Level II unit Spathi 'revealed' itself as much as they could with their Null Signature Systems active. Leng's insistence to break out some of the 'specialized' equipment just in case paid off in spades. Six 'mechs of the medium demi-company Spathi flanked his position and provided the advancing John Deere vehicles a formidable obstacle. The Ostscout in the unit came within fifty meters of his position. Leng swiftly climbed up and motioned the pilot to open the cockpit.

"I don't think we're getting in today, or anytime soon." Leng reported to his fellow Adept.

"Agreed. Get the rest of your unit to mount up. We've got rumble seats for all of you." The Adept nodded.

"You got it." Over the din of laser, PPC, and autocannon fire Leng keyed his comms and sent the automated retreat signal, "Done. Let's get out of here." Leng crawled into the cockpit and found the rumble seat, "Can we send John Deere a party gift?" Leng asked.

"Negative. They've already disabled our artillery and we'd be hard pressed to win against…" the Adept's eyes bulged at the sensor readout, "Twenty-eight vehicles! By Blake, we need to get the hell out of here!"

"Alpha and Beta are engaged by an enemy cloaked on sensors." The security officer confirmed, "The infantry has disappeared from the battlefield. Hold." They pressed an earcup against their head, "They have visual. 'Mechs are weaving through the trees and left behind a solid layer of smoke to cover their retreat. Alpha reports a solid hit on one target, but no kill. They're closing the distance now."

"Deploy some Balisets to recover the artillery used against us." Vaishnavi ordered, "I want drones to find these 'mechs and track where the hell they're going."

"Aye, ma'am." Their fingers flew across the interface, "Additional drones have been deployed and are searching for the 'mechs. We should be able to find—" A series of explosions rocked the perimeter of the base.

"Where—"

"Above, ma'am. Aerospace fighters have revealed themselves and are now exiting our airspace."

Vaishnavi sighed, "Goddamnit. Kick this up to higher. Cease pursuit if we can't find them in the perimeter. Bashar Habsburg needs to know about this."

Conference Room, ISV Liet-Kynes

High Helm Orbit

12 November 865 AS/2010/3025

"Now this is a development." Bashar Maria Theresa Habsburg stated as she reviewed the after-action report sent by Captain Vaishnavi, "Whoever did this to us wanted in."

"Agreed." Confirmed the holographic image of Lieutenant Colonel Mayamiko Marek, "The infantry element was small, most certainly an infiltration team. They had support on standby and knew exactly when to use them. Whoever these guys are, they're professionals."

"Sam, Anna?" Habsburg turned to images the two lead officers of the Triple-S on Helm, "What do you have for me?"

"All traffic over and around the John Deere factory was diverted by the local government yesterday." Anna Grímsdóttir checked her notes, "Whoever authorized this left no official public record. Local law enforcement told civilian traffic that an inspection of some kind was taking place and was simply turned around." She shook her head, "The day before, what we assume were ROM assets were increased dramatically. Despite this, we had no reason to think that this was a precursor to an attack."

"It wasn't an attack." Sam Fisher countered, "This was an attempted infiltration gone wrong. If it weren't for our sensors, they'd have probably gotten closer than they did."

"I want to know exactly how they managed to slip a number of 'mechs under our sensor net." Marek rubbed a temple, "Vaishnavi didn't even see them on thermals."

"We have a theory." Grímsdóttir brought up an image of the EXT-4D Exterminator 'mech, "The Null Signature System. We have specifications recovered from the memory cores. Given the current technology level and the level of firepower on display, it's safe to assume that ComStar were the ones behind this latest attack. This 'mech matches the visual feed from the Ix that managed to land a hit during the engagement. It is also safe to assume that the rest of the forces deployed to reinforce the infantry unit."

"Is this Null Signature System so sophisticated?" Habsburg asked.

"I kicked this up to Cradle and Earth's researchers and got a preliminary assessment of the NSS' capabilities. They said that if the pilot manages to keep the heat load under control, then these are quite capable of masking their presence on sensors until the unit opens fire. Even then, the readable heat output is subdued by the NSS unless it crests over a certain threshold."

"Is there a way to detect them?" Marek asked.

"They're working on it, but I think we can increase the sensitivity of our existing sensors to pick them up, not to mention advanced optical analysis. They did a good job painting their 'mechs to blend in with the woodland cover, but unless they start sticking foliage, camo netting and the like on the 'mech and move at a snail's pace, we can make a good effort at detecting them. Of course, if they have a Chameleon Light Polarization Shield or CLPS that makes optical detection quite difficult."

Habsburg nodded, "I see. Work with our techs on calibrating optical VI detection aimed at defeating the NSS and see if there are ways around the CLPS. If they're deployed against us, then we need some way of dealing with it."

"Understood, Bashar." Grímsdóttir nodded.

"We need to strike back." Fisher stated, "Playing defense is all well and good, but we need some sort of response for such actions, especially from those assholes at ComStar. They tipped their hand. We should give them a good slap to mind their manners."

"Do you have anything in mind, Sam?" Marek was curious.

"A similar operation against the HPG is out of the question. They're well entrenched in Helmsdown. Too many eyes for such a thing. I was thinking a bit of a reverse of what Rachan did to the Gray Death Legion."

"We're not going to slaughter millions." Habsburg stated flatly.

"I'm not a monster, Bashar. A simple false flag against a local government building during off hours." Fisher shrugged, "Little chance for casualties. We plant evidence implicating ComStar who backed the supporters of the dead Anton Marik."

"That is an absolutely filthy plan." Habsburg spat, "Should we really stoop so low?"

"Compared to what Rachan had in store for the Gray Death Legion, I think it's a mercy." Fisher declared coldly, "We're simply burning his bridges. Rachan orchestrated the death of a city of millions."

"He hasn't done so yet." Habsburg argued, "Just because he did it in the source material doesn't mean he'll do it now."

"You're not wrong," Fisher conceded, "but to let an organization like ComStar operate freely on us is dangerous. Now, I'll admit that their latest failed attempt has gotten us an interesting result, but that also means that ComStar is willing to break out the old stocks to get at us. We don't have intelligence assets on their Earth, Terra I guess, and we don't know if they're reactivating the old factories now. They have a lead of over two centuries when it comes to an effective intelligence apparatus, operational doctrine, and contingency plans. Despite our technological edge, this isn't the great game on Earth. That was a puddle in comparison to this ocean. We need to throw them off balance."

Habsburg stroked her chin and gave Fisher's words some thought, "I will discuss this with higher and see what they'll say. Fisher, Grim, you will both be present at that discussion, understood?" The Triple-S pair nodded, "Good. Marek," she turned to the Marine, "increase security around the factory and Freeport-One. Drone patrols, vehicles, the like. I saw some 'mechs in the latest inventory manifest. Get some people trained up for 'mech combat and make the appropriate modifications to make those things survivable. Same with the vehicles. We can't be roaming around in Vernius IFVs and Ix tanks. Make it very apparent that John Deere's economic well-being has brought a boon in equipment. We need to dissuade such blatant attempts to destabilize our presence here."

Bridge, BLV Blazing Cat

Anvelt Orbit

Smithon System, Arano Restoration Space

21 November 3025

The mission was a go. The DropShip Newgrange was spotted landed on Anvelt. The Black Lotus Battalion and the Mentor's Ghosts were on the move to execute their planned operation. The Blazing Cat was already burning toward the moon with the Ghost of Coromodir, Ghost of Montgomery, and Mentor's Blade close behind. There would only be a delay of a couple of hours of the BLB's touchdown and the Ghosts making their move. The timing couldn't be better. The refueling station on Anvelt was under a huge dust storm which would cover their approach nicely. The BLB were capable of landing closer while the Ghosts could conduct a hot drop with minimal chance of interference.

General Anya Rosse examined the display of the battlefield. Directorate vehicles and 'mechs did their best to cover up and remain vigilant in the face of a low gravity dust storm. Metallic dust tended to get in everything, so anything not completely sealed against the elements was under cover and hunkered down. The remaining 'mechs and vehicles had to double their workload with more than half their combat capable craft in lockdown. That suited her just fine. Her experience against the Directorate so far had been extremely indicative of her combat encounters across the Inner Sphere. Many pilots were lacking the training, guts, ferocity, and guile necessary to survive in combat. There were a few warriors who caught her attention, worthy of zellbrigen, but those encounters were rare. It was apparent that the enemy was learning, but their number was too few and those that she did engage in honorable duels with ended up either captured or destroyed.

"General," the helmsman broke her concentration, "we are mere hours away from the battlefield."

"Excellent." She replied, "Tactical, status?"

"The trinary is prepared to drop." Her tactical officer reported, "The Long Tom is prepared to fire as soon as we touch down. Armored stars are ready, as are the infantry."

She smiled, "Good. How about the Ghosts?"

DropShip Ghost of Coromodir

"Commander, General Rosse is asking for our status." Darius Oliveira reported to the bridge.

"Tell them we're set." Marcus Scarman replied, "The lances are ready, our DropShips are primed, and we're raring for a fight."

Oliveira nodded, "Message sent." He examined the holo table, "Opposition looks light. They really buckled everything else down."

"Your analysis of the battlefield has improved a lot since we got proper intel assets." Scarman observed.

"I work with what I've got, Marcus. Glad we have all this lostech now." He zoomed out, "I think I see where the QRF is based at. God, I wish we had Cerun here."

"We still have some aerospace support." Scarman noted, "The Blazing Cat has an aerospace wing on standby. In this kind of dust bowl, I don't know that we can rely on that."

"Good point." Oliveira read a couple more status reports, "The Montgomery and Mentor's Blade are pulling off for their drop points. I recommend getting down the 'mech bay, Commander. We're just a couple hours out."

Aspero-Dinton Refueling Station

Anvelt

Directorate forces on the surface had been feeling the figurative noose tighten for over a month. With the seizure of Smithon, their logistical chain had been severed. Though Aspero-Dinton Mining had 'graciously' allowed access to the refueling station on Anvelt, control of the system was firmly in the Restoration's grasp. What DropShips could make it through the blockade barely did, with numerous battle scars that ate into the precious supplies brought by the blockade runners. The Newgrange was one such DropShip, ostensibly civilian as to pass the blockade unscathed. What they brought with them was welcome: rations, spare parts, weapons, vehicles and 'mechs for the beleaguered defenders. Though they had only suffered one major attack, it was enough to stretch their limited supplies to the breaking point until now.

With the dust storm raging, the refueling station was on lockdown. No infantry and half the vehicle force had to lay dormant to preserve their strength. The fine dust of millions of years of constant weathering and the periodic collision with random detritus that wandered about the system had a terrible tendency to get into sensitive components. Their 'mechs had to carry the burden of site security under the ever-present danger that loomed overhead.

A Wolverine patrolled close to the landed Newgrange, unable to see more than a dozen meters in front of them. They were reliant on their sensors, which were still hampered by the metallic dust storm. Their total detectable range was a few hundred meters at best in the weaker parts of the storm. There was no choice, they had to stick close else they become lost in the red soot.

It happened without warning. One of the few vehicle lances that could withstand the insidious nature of the dust storm was on patrol on the outer reaches of the perimeter.

"Home-Actual, Oscar-One, over." The lance commander called over comms from their AC2 Carrier.

"Oscar-One, Home-Actual. Go ahead, over."

"Got a blip on the perimeter about four-hundred meters out. We're checking it out, over."

"Copy, Oscar-One. Report your findings, out." Comms went silent.

*BOOM*

The AC2 Carrier rocked as an explosion ripped into their lancemate one-hundred meters away, erasing them from existence.

*BOOM*

Another whole vehicle disappeared from the surface as the lance commander struggled to get a handle on the situation. He glanced at his sensor readings and peered through the neural helmet. The whirling maelstrom of dust, ash and smoke revealed nothing.

"Home-Actual, Oscar-One! We're under—"

BLV Blazing Cat Landing Zone

Thirty Kilometers from Aspero-Dinton Refueling Station

"Vehicle Lance eliminated, Drummond-One." Tactical reported, "You are cleared to disembark. May the Great Father guide you."

"Aff, Abram-One. Drummond-One out." Rosse cracked her neck and willed her Konev forward. When she cleared the ramp her 'mech was engulfed by the red storm. She glanced at her sensor readouts and peered through her neural helmet. Though the metallic dust limited her range somewhat, the sensors were able to cut through the noise and give her a more complete view of the battlefield. Her sensors built an image of the wrecked vehicles a kilometer away. The weapons on the DropShip made short work of the blind vehicles just minutes before. Her sensors picked up contacts headed her way. She opened a channel on her comms.

"Trinary, Drummond-One." She called, "Secure the landing zone, then proceed to nav-point alpha and engage all enemy forces. Show these spheroids how a proper warrior does battle. Drummond-One out."

Fifteen 'mechs of the Black Lotus Battalion marched forward and spaced themselves out. They secured their landing zone and moved forward. Konevs, Gundams, and Black Panthers surged forward to draw out the enemy garrison. They were not subtle; they made no effort to mask their movements. In the distance, Directorate forces were spurred to action. Tank treads and 'mech actuators vibrated the ground as what forces the enemy had at hand began their advance. In the maelstrom, Rosse and her trinary were unfazed and closed the gap.

Though the dust hampered their enemy's sensors, the trinary were able to find their targets with little problem. They could see through the near impenetrable environment and pick their targets at will. Rosse and her star closed on the first enemy lance of light vehicles. With no hesitation, they unleashed a barrage of particle, rail gun, missile, and laser upon their unfortunate foe. Metal melted, cracked, and burned under their pinpoint accuracy until smoking craters remained.

Colonel Adar Djerassi's star met the second mote of resistance, a 'mech lance. A Commando, Panther, Firestarter, and Dragon were over two kilometers away. With little thought, his star engaged an enemy completely blind to their whereabouts. A particle blast shattered the poor Commando as it clipped along at ninety kilometers an hour. The twenty-five ton 'mech tumbled and exploded in the storm, the missile ammunition ignited by the powerful ionized particles. In the blinding red, the forceful brightness of the 'mech's meltdown was visible even to the BLB. A pair of warriors targeted the Panther which jumped as the Commando died. In mid-air, a volley of missiles knocked the thirty-five tons of metal nearly ass over teakettle. A rail gun shot to the center torso finished it off and sent it tumbling unceremoniously to the ground. The Dragon, exposed against an enemy they couldn't see rushed for cover, any cover in the barren terrain. It was too little, too late. Djerassi fired everything from his Konev. The twin particle cannons tore off the left torso of the 'mech, bits of melted armor and endoskeleton flew through the thin atmosphere. The right torso's armor was shattered by the rail gun, leaving the internal components exposed to the elements. As dust poured into the endoskeleton, a barrage of missiles tore the right torso to pieces, leaving its arm in the dust. In a desperate last action, the Dragon's pilot launched their LRM-10 into the wild, their explosive payloads deposited themselves across the battlefield. It stood no chance as Djerassi personally sent the pilot to meet whatever afterlife awaited them as one last rail gun slug slammed into the cockpit and left the war machine limp.

The Firestarter advanced, defiant. Though its comrades lay in pieces on the battlefield the pilot sought to avenge their comrades. Anger fueled them, the want to bring justice to their foe. Such notions would get them killed in very short order. The 'mech jumped forward to close the distance between themselves and the nearest BLB 'mech, a Black Panther. The Norinco-designed machine saw this and easily predicted the flight path of the Firestarter. With weapons primed the Black Panther unleashed its opening volley. The warrior unleashed its rotary cannon and twin upgraded medium lasers. Three one-hundred-twenty-millimeter HEAT rounds slammed into the Firestarter as it landed, knocking the pilot about. The lasers melted into the impacted armor and exposed the underlying structure. The Firestarter was still well out of its own weapons range and charged forward despite the damage. Though well outside their own effective range, they fired their medium lasers at a shadow in the distance. Emerald light exposed their position, though unnecessary for the 'mechs of the engaged star. With ruthless precision, the Black Panther let loose another cluster of one-hundred-twenty-millimeter cannon fire, destroying what little armor remained and smashing the internal components. Myomer, endosteel, everything within the right torso flew through the exit cavity and rendered the Firestarter out of almost half its firepower. It mattered not to the pilot who jumped toward the Black Panther. The warrior pounced at the reckless maneuver with one last burst from its rotary cannon into the cockpit of the light 'mech. Decapitated, the last of the immediate response force was felled.

"Abram-One, Drummond-One." Rosse called over comms, "Begin shelling around the Newgrange."

"Aff, General."

Aspero-Dinton Refueling Station

Hell had reached the defenders of the Newgrange. Shells from somewhere landed all around them. The initial barrage intensified the already miserable sensor conditions as explosions threw up the planet's heavy metallic dust into the waning storm. Through the sensor mire the Newgrange was able to pick out where the fire came from.

"Home-Actual to all forces. Reserves are mobilized. Deployed forces are to rally at your designated nav points and follow your lance leaders. Enemy forces are detected closing on our position. QRF has been mobilized and will be here in good time. Home-Actual out."

The command staff of the DropShip took over handling the tactical and operational burdens of the battle as their engineers prepared for a quick takeoff. Who they assumed to be Restoration forces were on their way and brushed aside their perimeter patrols with the ease reported by both intelligence and news sources.

They were a DropShip of the Transport and Service Division, proud merchant-mariners tasked with ensuring the security of the Taurian Concordat through supporting the Directorate. After the attack on Perdition, having a friendly buffer state on their anti-spinward border was deemed a strategic priority by Protector Calderon. The Newgrange was tasked with supplying the Directorate materiel sorely missing from their inventory. Though already covertly aiding before the Aurigan Civil War, Perdition forced the Protector's hand and resulted in an increase of missions into Aurigan space. Captain Christopher Ostergaard took his mission very seriously. Though he was ostensibly a civilian DropShip captain, he understood that would not hold up under careful scrutiny. The Newgrange was too suspicious to be recognized as anything but a blockade runner. So, he took command of the situation.

The DropShip's sensor range was sliced in half thanks to the storm, but the environmental conditions were improving by the minute. The powerful sensor suite of the Union-class managed to pick up the general direction of the enemy advance. Ostergaard had the feeling that it was the Black Lotus Battalion, the unknown mercenary unit that had proven to be extremely effective while utilizing an unusual force structure. If they were on the battlefield, then the other mercenary unit the Arano Restoration employed would be close behind: the Mentor's Ghosts.

As if right on cue his sensors officer called out a set of new contacts, "Sir! We have two new contacts on the scope."

"What are they?" Ostergaard asked.

"DropShips, coming in hot and fast. Hard to say how many until they get closer, but—" The thought was interrupted by a series of impacts on their hull which rocked the occupants about, "Shit!"

"Tactical, status?" Ostergaard remained as calm as he could.

"Armor on one of the legs is down to seventy-five percent! Armor around the nav array is down to eighty!" the tactical officer replied.

The Captain took a few moments to recollect his thoughts. With weapons that could damage their armor that significantly, he had no other choice, "Helm, prepare for emergency takeoff. Tactical, organize the defense and get that QRF here as soon as possible. Sensors, keep watch and keep trying to clean up the picture. Engineering, how long will it take to get us off this rock?"

"We're not done fueling yet." The engineering officer shook their head, "That's gonna take at least fifteen minutes. We can begin to spin up the engines once the fuel lines are stowed, but we're probably gonna be sitting here for twenty minutes, maybe longer."

"We need to get out of here sooner. Take as much fuel as we can, but we need to be gone in fifteen minutes. We can't stand too much fire if their guns can strip away that much armor."

"Aye, sir." Engineering responded.

DropShip Ghost of Montgomery Landing Zone

Three kilometers from Aspero-Dinton Refueling Station

"Good hit. Monty-Actual, back off and break lase lock. Get back to Capitol and proceed with plan alpha. Eck, paint that leg. Arclight, nav array." Scarman ordered over comms as the lance landed.

"You got it, sir." Eck activated the laser designator on his Gundam's head and walked his 'mech forward behind a ridge.

"Yep." Arclight responded simply as she maneuvered her Black Panther fifty meters from Eck's Gundam behind the same ridge.

"Ghost-One, Blade-Actual, over." Sumire called from the Mentor's Blade.

"Ghost-One, go ahead, over." Scarman switched response frequencies and replied.

"They're in chaos, Commander. The storm is waning but I'm a few kilometers away ready to rain hell, over."

"You got lock, Blade-Actual?" Scarman checked his sensors for enemy contacts and quickly switched response frequencies again, "Mockingbird, with me. Gotta maintain lock."

"Roger, sir." Mockingbird replied and pulled their Gundam alongside Scarman.

"We've got lock, Commander, over." Sumire piped in.

"Light 'em up and I'll get in contact with them. Ghost-One out." Scarman and Mockingbird moved to their first nav point and reached their overwatch position as he observed enemy movement on his sensors.

"Sir, I've got a couple light 'mechs on the scope." Mockingbird reported, "Permission to engage?"

"Hold." Scarman ordered as he fixed his sights on one of the 'mechs, "You take the Panther, I've got the Shadow Hawk. On my mark."

Mockingbird adjusted their sights, "Locked."

Scarman took a steadying breath, "FIRE!"

In unison, the Konev/Gundam pair let rip a volley of particle, rail, missile, and laser on the pair of closing 'mechs at less than a kilometer away. The Panther, closer by tens of meters, was savaged first by the opening barrage of Mockingbird's Gundam. The shoulder-mounted rail gun slammed its round into the right arm of the light 'mech and cleaved off the Panther's PPC. Missiles cratered the center torso as bright blue beams of light sliced into the armor, melting and ablating the portions hit. Mockingbird added a burst of twenty-millimeter API rounds, aiming at the cockpit. The rounds struck home, rocking the pilot about violently. The Konev's weapons were more devastating against the Shadow Hawk it fired upon. The particle cannons aimed at the left torso blew it clean off, sending metal and myomer about the battlefield. The rail gun punched into the left leg, sending the Directorate 'mech tumbling into the ground. Blue lasers bubbled the armor, leaving piles of melted slag on the terrain as the Shadow Hawk struggled to stay upright for a few seconds more. The pilot was lucky as they punched out, the medium 'mech managed to remain somewhat upright as they ejected from their doomed machine.

An AC2 Carrier about a kilometer away opened fire on the pair and struck the shields of Mockingbird's 'mech with multiple HEAP rounds. Scarman and Mockingbird split from one another. Mockingbird jumped a few dozen meters away while Scarman laid down a burst from his rail gun. The carrier narrowly avoided certain death as the driver forced the vehicle in reverse at the last moment. The sudden movement threw off the aim of the gunner, tossing rounds uselessly into the ground. An LRM Carrier managed to get a tenuous lock on Scarman's Konev. Sixty Inner Sphere long-range missiles launched into the sky and began to careen into the Konev. The onboard VI immediately switched the arm-mounted pulse lasers to defense mode. Beams of blue light emitted from the arms began to slice through the cloud of missiles headed toward Scarman. He deliberately punched the countermeasure button and launched a cloud a flares and sensor-masking smoke from the centerline-mounted Trophy system. The Israeli-developed active protection system joined the lasers as missiles began to close the distance. Multiple Explosively Formed Penetrators ripped through the closest missiles as the lasers destroyed the farther targets. Seconds later only four missiles penetrated the barrier of laser and lead. Those four missiles exploded harmlessly around Scarman's 'mech. To repay such a debt, Mockingbird sent a single rail gun slug at the LRM Carrier. The metal propelled to ludicrous velocities punched straight through the center of the carrier and detonated the ammo storage bay. In spectacular fashion, the LRM Carrier's remains were sent all over the battlefield as Scarman and Mockingbird chose new targets.

Kilometers away, the Mentor's Blade began to hammer away at its targets. The leg of the Newgrange was savaged by artillery fire as the multi-barreled artillery piece fired an unceasing barrage of one-hundred-fifty-five-millimeter M720 Copperhead-M rounds. The Rotary Rail Gun targeted the navigation array, stripping off armor in ton-sized chunks. The long-range pulse lasers ionized what little atmosphere existed as it assisted Scarman and Mockingbird as the sensor picture improved. The AC2 Carrier that fired on Scarman and Mockingbird was targeted by the pulse laser array and melted the vehicle into slag.

Captain Ostergaard felt the situation deteriorating quite literally as round after round smashed into his DropShip. He stared as his holo-table and watched in dejected resignation at the slow speed of the supposed 'quick reaction force.' They were still ten minutes away.

"Tactical, sitrep. How much longer until they get through the armor?" Ostergaard asked as he braced against the barrage of fire.

"At this rate, ten minutes at most!" The tactical officer yelled, barely able to be heard over the din.

"Engineering, how long on fuel?" He yelled.

"Longer than ten minutes, Captain!" They yelled back, "We'll be dust before we have enough fuel!"

The Captain pondered his rapidly depleting options. The tactical projections from the Directorate spoke nothing of the Restoration possessing the firepower to not only damage but destroy a DropShip, let alone one as heavily armored as his Newgrange. He glanced up at the armor readout from the impacted sections. Leg at fifty percent, nav array armor at sixty. The picture was bleak. He had no direct way to fight back: the defense turrets supposed to be protecting the site were destroyed in the first artillery barrage; defensive reserves were evaporating against the mere four 'mechs arrayed against them. He had one last desperate play to make.

"Comms, open a general channel!" He commanded over the constant shelling, "I have to buy us some time!"

The comms officer nodded, pressed a few buttons, and pointed at the Captain, "Channel open, sir!"

Ostergaard took a breath to steady himself, "This is the Captain of the Newgrange! Hold your fire, damn it! We're a civilian transport, not a military DropShip!"

A few moments later the shelling ceased, "This is Commander Scarman." A voice responded, "Power down your engines and surrender. You can guess what happens if you don't."

"I can't do that! I repeat, hold your fire! There are unarmed people on this vessel! We've got a hold full of passengers, and you'll be murdering them if you keep firing at us!"

"Who said we'd be destroying your ship, Captain?" the voice asked, "Now that would be counterproductive. Please power down your engines and surrender. You won't be able to get off this rock either way."

Ostergaard motioned to cut off comms, "How much longer until that QRF gets here?" He asked.

"You bought some time, but—" their thought was interrupted by enemy fire, "I don't know if we can hold!"

"Engineering, spin up the engines! We are LEAVING!"

"That fuel pump is working overtime, Commander." Sumire warned, "They're making a break for it."

Scarman's mind raced. He had to decide where to put the firepower of the Mentor's Blade. The fact that she could see the status of the Union-class meant the sensor conditions had improved significantly. There was only one real choice, "Blade-Actual, how's your lock?"

"Clean, sir." She responded.

"Good. Hammer the nav array until they can't see shit."

"Roger. Adjusting fire." Sumire adjusted her flight path as her tactical officer retargeted the artillery piece. Seconds later, all rail and artillery rounds were locked on the Newgrange's nav array.

"Lance, shift fire." Scarman commanded over a different frequency, "Ghost-Two and -Four, break lock and execute plan bravo. Ghost-Three, let's go."

Scarman and Mockingbird pushed their 'mechs forward. Mockingbird jumped her Gundam on a ridge and spotted targets. Two kilometers away, elements of the security force that were dispatched to deal with Rosse's forces. She locked on to a Cicada-2A that was well within her range. She ranged the target, and the VI immediately spat out a firing solution. Her 'mech braced, she squeezed the trigger. Two hypervelocity rail gun slugs shattered the unsuspecting machine. In near unison, Scarman spotted his own closer target, a Wolverine that escaped their sight. Its own rail gun and particle cannons joined Mockingbird's firepower and erased one of the last motes of resistance on the battlefield.

On board the Newgrange, Captain Ostergaard watched the armor readout in abject horror as he felt every single round impact his vessel. The armor around the nav array was critical. Ten minutes of endurance against enemy fire proved to be a woeful overestimation. They could withstand another two minutes at the absolute maximum against what they determined to be another DropShip firing upon them. They were deliberate in their targeting, lethally accurate despite the sensor conditions, and possessed the firepower to not simply damage but destroy his blockade runner.

"Engineering!" He yelled, "How much longer!?"

"Five minutes!" They yelled back.

"SHIT!" The constant barrage was taking its toll on not only his ship, "Comms! Get me a line!"

"To who?"

"Open frequency!" The comms officer nodded as flicked open the line, "This is the Captain of the Newgrange! Stand down. We… We surrender. We will power down our engines."

The barrage ceased almost immediately, "About time. Power down all nonessential systems and prepare to be boarded."

"Nice job, Blade-Actual." Scarman congratulated.

"Thanks, sir, but we're not out of the fire yet. The QRF is almost here, has an odd IFF signal. Shall I give them a warm welcome?" Sumire asked innocently.

"Let them land." Scarman shrugged nonchalantly, "We don't want an accidental crash into the Newgrange. I'll call for support if needed."

Another transmission grabbed his attention, "Ghost-One, Drummond-One, over." It was General Rosse.

"Ghost-One. Go ahead, Drummond-One."

"Shall we hang back as you engage the QRF, over?"

Scarman gave it a good think, "Affirm, Drummond-One. If things get too hairy, I have Blade-Actual on station."

"Aff, Ghost-One. May you find fortune on the field of battle. Drummond-One out." The comms went silent. The Black Lotus Battalion had some very strange vernacular.

A few hundred meters away, a Directorate Leopard touched down and dropped off a lance of 'mechs. Scarman's VI identified them as a Firestarter FS9-H, a Centurion CN9-A, Dragon DRG-1N, and a Catapult CPLT-K2. The pilot of the Catapult spoke over an open channel.

"Marcus Scarman." A familiar Spanish face appeared over his comms, "I remember you well. The late Raju Montgomery held you in such high esteem. Now I find you here, serving my exiled cousin. Where is she hiding, I wonder?"

Scarman almost coughed in disbelief, "If it isn't Victoria Espinosa herself. Man, Lady Arano will be happy to see you here, as will the old man."

"A pity she's not here." Espinosa responded venomously, "We could have ended this war here and now. I suppose I'll have to content myself with her prized mercenaries. I hope she's watching as I tear you to shreds."

Scarman locked on to her Catapult, "Oh, trust me. They're both watching. How about you?" He squeezed the trigger and let loose a devastating alpha strike. Two rail gun slugs impacted the center and left torso of Espinosa's 'mech as she began to react. Espinosa fired her twin PPCs at Scarman before she began to run towards him. She employed a maneuver taught by Raju Montgomery to extend battlefield survivability, the torso twist. She rotated her 'mech and presented a narrower target profile to Scarman and his lance, the more armored arm and torso facing them. One of the particle cannon blasts caught the forward arm, stripping near all the armor of the right arm. Pulse lasers carved into that arm and damaged the PPC housed within.

Espinosa's second, the pilot of the Dragon, fired at Scarman with their full compliment. Lasers, missiles, and autocannon rounds headed toward Scarman's Konev to aggressively encourage him to break contact. The lighter 'mechs of Espinosa's lance rushed for cover to escape the open ground of the landing site. The Firestarter in particular was acutely aware that their 'mech did not have the armor to survive a straight slugging match with the mercenary lance. Eck reinforced their fear as he fired his rail gun and a barrage of missiles. The slug shattered the left leg, leaving the light 'mech limping to what little cover existed. The Centurion was in a brawling mood and rushed Eck with their AC-10 and medium lasers firing. Eck's energy shields absorbed the damage as he fearlessly closed the distance. Like a Roman legionary, he lifted his composite armor shield in front of him and drew the collapsed monofilament vibroblade from its place on his hip. He extended his right arm around his armored shield and fired one of his pair of pulse lasers. As he carved and gouged the Centurion's armor, Eck pressed forth his attack. Drawing from his experience in the Solaris VII arenas, he crunched his shield into the Centurion and fired another burst from his pulse laser. Knocked off balance and far too close, the retaliatory shots only managed to scar the composite armor shield of the Gundam as Eck shifted the hand actuator and slashed down on the shoulder joint of the left arm. Cleaved clean off, the pilot screamed as the neural feedback overwhelmed the degraded safety sensors. Unceremoniously, the Centurion toppled over as the pilot passed out.

Mockingbird was not to be left out as she locked her crosshair on the head of the Dragon. The Dragon was stepping backwards as Mockingbird delivered her own Gundam's payload. She elected to open with an alpha strike as the reputation of the squat heavy 'mech preceded it. The overwhelming firepower she unleashed cracked, ablated, and cratered the armor of the sixty-tonner. The pilot shifted their attention, but not before another volley impacted the 'mech. A third rail gun slug smashed the left arm of the Dragon, leaving it limp and useless. Missiles ripped into the center torso and annihilated the LRM launcher. The AC-5 on the right arm was spared and the Dragon pilot used it as effectively as they could. Five rounds burst out of the Imperator-A at Mockingbird. The impacts spread themselves harmlessly across the energy shield as the fourth member of Scarman's lance took action. Arclight leveled her Black Panther's weapons against the Dragon, aimed at the center torso, and fired away. One-twenty-five-millimeter HEAT rounds flew true as she released a full cycle of six rounds stripped away the last of the armor that clung defiantly onto the center of the Dragon. Two medium lasers carved into the internal structure and pierced the reactor core. The emergency shut down mechanism remained thankfully intact and shut the Dragon down on the spot.

Victoria Espinosa was the last 'mech standing of her lance. Defiant, she put her crosshairs on Scarman's 'mech, "Mercenary scum!" she yelled over open comms as she squeezed her trigger. Two PPC shots impacted Scarman's shield and he watched the shield strength dip lower than he ever expected. He remained unconcerned.

"Montgomery would be sorely disappointed in you, Vicky." Scarman responded with nonchalant venom, "You went into battle blind. You underestimated your opponent despite the absolute thrashing your forces have received throughout this war. This fight is over." Scarman's eye focused on the center torso of the Catapult K-2 as he fired. One last volley of the Konev's overwhelming firepower shredded right through the center torso and left the Catapult completely useless as Espinosa ejected from her cockpit. The violence of the neural feedback knocked her unconscious as she was sent into harsh atmosphere of Anvelt.

Bridge, DropShip Newgrange

Four Hours Later

Captain Ostergaard sat bound in silence as Restoration and Mercenary forces crawled all over his DropShip. There was no use hiding anything. They made it abundantly clear that any attempt to interfere with their efforts would result in hard consequences. They found the remnants of their arms delivery for the Directorate and manifests clearly shown the cargo was from the Taurian Concordat. His crew had been sequestered in their quarters, separated, and guarded by Lady Arano's troops. He awaited his fate in his ready room, as each member of his senior staff were questioned. He was sure that wouldn't be the end of it, but at least he was certain that he would be treated fairly. He and his crew were non-combatants, and the Ministry of Intelligence brief informed him that the Restoration treated their prisoners well.

After a time, he heard the door open behind him. He turned around in his seat to see Lady Kamea Arano, two hardened warrior-types, and two guards. One was dressed in a reddish-brown camouflage uniform with a lotus on her shoulder. The other deigned the use of a uniform and instead looked like many of the freelance forces used by great houses and minor powers alike. They walked around him, and Lady Arano sat at his desk while the other two flanked her. She made it apparent that she held the power here.

"Captain Christopher Ostergaard," Arano began as she leaned back in his seat, "you are a long way from the Taurian Concordat, wouldn't you agree?" He remained silent, "I would think that you would pursue a similar path to your father in the navy. Much more exciting than the life of a merchant. To each their own I suppose." The woman in the camouflage handed her a sheaf of paper. She flipped through it dramatically, "You and your crew kept meticulous records, and for that I thank you. The evidence here is overwhelming that the Concordat seeks an ally in the region and my uncle was more than happy to oblige. You have manifests from the last year of providing arms to the Directorate as their primary source of materiel used to fight us. For that crime alone, you and your crew should be sent to the Icebox to be secured as prisoners."

"We never fired a shot against you." Ostergaard stated, defiant, "We are simply merchants who provided goods to those who were willing to pay the c-bills."

"For providing arms against the enemy in wartime, as a civilian, you would still be imprisoned. That is a logistical line that I cannot afford to remain intact for the Directorate." Arano countered, "Perhaps, there could be another option. You are a Taurian national, with a direct line to one of the most powerful figures in the Taurian Defense Force."

"What are you getting at?" Ostergaard's eyes narrowed.

"I would like you to open a line with your father and through him Protector Calderon. I think we can solve this amicably, with no bloodshed between our people. This war is an Aurigan matter, and I'm sure you've been informed of our progress against the Directorate despite your material support. It is wasteful to continue to support the losing side. The Restoration will win this war, have no doubt about it. We possess the ability to prosecute this endeavor effectively."

"What do I get? Why would I help you?"

"If you succeed, and the Concordat withdraws its support of the Directorate, you and your crew go free. You all will be given safe passage to return home."

"What if your negotiations fail? What if the Protector continues to funnel arms to the Directorate?"

"You and your crew will remain in captivity until the conclusion of the war." She leaned forward, "Captain, you have no personal stake in this fight. The Protector is looking for allies against a potential enemy. We harbor no ill will against your people or your nation. We are more than willing to conduct diplomacy with a fellow Periphery nation to ensure our independence. As a Taurian, you understand our want to remain independent, apart from the destruction wrought by the Successor States."

Ostergaard was silent for a few minutes, neither side said a word. If he were to report to his father that he was captured, it would be a point of shame for him and his family. He was a loyal member of the Taurian Defense Force and vowed to protect the Concordat at all costs. Yet as a Taurian, he understood the want of independence. This war was an Aurigan matter and should be solved by Aurigans. It mattered not who won, it mattered that the security of the Concordat remained. He gathered his thoughts and nodded.

"I will do as you request, Lady Arano. If you would allow me to send an HPG message to Taurus, I can fulfill your request."

Lady Arano smiled softly, "Thank you, Captain. I will say this, you and your crew will not be mistreated under my care even if these negotiations break down. We are not barbarians, even if the Spheriods claim otherwise."

Ostergaard laughed, "I'm Taurian. You know what the Davions think of us."

"Exactly my point." Arano rose from the chair and motioned to the guards, "We are going to impound your vessel, and head back to Smithon. You and your crew will remain in my care. As soon as we're able to establish a good HPG connection, you will send your message and hopefully open a dialogue with the Protector." With a nod, the guards flanked Captain Ostergaard and motioned him toward the door. He complied and the door closed behind them. General Rosse and Commander Scarman motioned for Lady Arano to follow them out. She simply nodded.

Brig, ACV Sword of Restoration

Lina Karosas Memorial Starport, Smithon

26 November 3025

Victoria Espinosa sat quietly in her cell. Black Lotus and Ghost Mercenary forces had quickly recovered her after she ejected from her doomed Catapult. She simmered with anger. She was entrusted to guard Anvelt against another incursion by the Karosas and her damned cousin. She had been informed that the gains made by her cousin's 'Restoration' were simply setbacks, to be pushed back by the full force of her and her father. Before her deployment she asked Directorate intelligence about the mercenaries under Arano's command. She was notified of 'mechs of unknown make that were similar to existing designs but markedly more powerful. She had brushed aside the 'power' estimates as battlefield folklore. Soldiers tended to exaggerate the capability of the enemy, especially if they were losing. Unfortunately for her, that proved to be her undoing. The 'mechs used by the Mentor's Ghosts were more capable than she had ever seen. She slammed her fist against the wall, the metal clang rang throughout her cell. She let her pride get the better of her.

She heard the signature sound of the doors unlocking. She stared hard at whomever was about to walk through. Two Restoration soldiers entered and quickly bound her in cuffs around her ankles, placed her hands behind her back, and bound her hands. They were just forceful enough to remind her that her compliance ensured her survival. She growled as they backed away and three more figures entered the room. Through the armored doorway came her cousin Kamea Arano, the mercenary Marcus Scarman, and a man whom she thought dead. Her eyes widened in shock.

"You're dead." She sputtered out in utter disbelief.

"You wish, whelp." Raju Montgomery responded, his metal right arm and left leg gleamed under the harsh lights, "You couldn't beat me by yourself. Your warden couldn't break me. What did you have behind you on Coromodir? Two lances? Were you really that scared, Victoria?"

"Hey, I got her back for you." Scarman smirked, "I guess you got soft, eh Vicky?" He prodded.

"How dare you call me that, scum!" Espinosa spat, "You and your damned lostech!"

"I play to win." Scarman shrugged as he leaned against the doorframe, "So did you. This time I won. Gotta say, it tastes good."

"Enough." Lady Arano ordered. Scarman backed down, "Despite your best efforts, you failed to protect the Newgrange from capture. A vital lifeline of your Directorate has been severed. Given the captain of the Newgrange, I can guess that you weren't simply a QRF for a 'smuggling ship.'"

"'Smuggling ship.' Is that what Karosas thought the Newgrange was? Is that he told you? You poor, dear fool. I would tell you, but I don't want to spoil the surprise. You'll find out for yourself soon enough."

"Already did." Scarman piped in from the doorway, "Captain Chris Ostergaard, son of Commodore Sam Ostergaard. Come on, we're not stupid Vicky."

"You filthy mongrel." Espinosa seethed, "After I get out of here, I swear I will stamp you from existence."

"Try me, asshole. You can't sabotage my reactor this time. Remind me, what happened to your Catapult? I believe it's in my hold now, awaiting enough pieces to put it back together. I dunno, maybe I'll give it to the Restoration as a gift. Gotta wash the piss out of the cockpit. You made a mess of it when you popped out."

"Scarman." Arano glanced at him as he put his hands up in mock surrender. She looked down at her cousin, "You know, Victoria… I loved you like a sister, and you betrayed me. Your father held a knife to my back, and you helped him push it in." She paused for a moment, "I need to understand why."

Victoria stared back, defiance gleaming in here eyes, "If you'd ever really listened to him, you'd already know. He tried to teach you, cousin. To set you on the path of strength and prosperity." She shook her head, "But you spat on his efforts and forced his hand, and mine along with it."

Montgomery let a sad chuckle slip, "Forced your hand? I taught you everything you know about 'mech combat and what did you do? Heh, you jumped me with two lances, shoved me in a camp and left me for dead."

Arano clenched her fist, "Thousands of Aurigan dead lie piled at your feet, Victoria. Our people, you and your father discarded them with a thought. How can you justify that?"

Espinosa blinked slowly and collected her composure, "The price of strength, and our nation's future. For the glory of the Reach, I'd pay it a hundred times over."

"Tell me, cousin, who does that leave?" Kamea countered, "When you bleed the Reach dry, what's left? A husk, an empty shell of a people and a nation. We are supposed to be stewards of our people, not butchers."

"You seem to be confused, Vicky." Scarman stepped forward, "You mistake malice for strength. They're not the same. Do I need to beat that into you again?"

"I see this mongrel is your new favorite pet, cousin." Espinosa glared at Scarman, "I wonder how many more scars that body of yours can endure? One of these days, we'll have to find out."

"Anytime, Vicky." He stepped between Arano and Espinosa and leaned in close, "Imbeciles like you can only learn the hard way, and lately I've opened up a school for students just like you. My cram course is a rough one, with currently a hundred percent washout rate. You're better off in this cage, you fucking idiot."

Victoria spit in his face, "I'll break out of any cage you put me in, Scarman. After I crush your pathetic company, your death will be agonizing I assure you."

Scarman wiped the saliva off his face and wiped it on Espinosa's shoulder, "Try. You won't have to look too hard to find me."

Arano put a hand on Scarman and gently pulled him back, "You will do nothing but rot in your cage. Your story is over, Victoria. You've lost."

Espinosa laughed, "Is that what you think? Do you honestly believe my father hasn't planned for this?" She leaned back with an evil grin on her face, "My capture means nothing! The jaws of our trap are already closing around your neck, you're just too blind to see it!"

"Tell me," Scarman paced to the other side of Montgomery, "what will your old man do when Protector Calderon backs out? What happens to your supply lines? Do you have enough to keep your war machine rolling? Unless I'm mistaken, the Directorate has been losing equipment at an alarming rate." He stroked his chin, "How do you feed an army that has no logistical lines? Where do you get spare parts? Replacement equipment? Your ammo is running painfully low unless I'm reading different AARs than you." He shrugged, "Ah, what do I know. I'm just a grunt, right Vicky?"

Victoria shot straight up, the guards leveled their weapons at her, "Mock me at your peril, mercenary. My father bends everyone to his will. The Periphery nations? The Successor States? They all bow to his brilliance! You don't know what I've done for our people. The sacrifices I've had to make…" Her eyes drifted for just a moment before they refocused on Scarman, "You understand nothing, and you never will!" Her eyes shot at her cousin as she squeezed her fists pale behind her back, "You've already lost this war, cousin. You'll die screaming, and your Restoration will die with you."

Arano looked at her cousin with sad anger, "What happened to you…?" She glanced at her entourage, "Let's go. Guards, release her bindings as soon as we leave." With a simple nod, the guards complied. Kamea, Marcus, and Raju walked out of the cell and into the hall.

"What do we do with her, my Lady?" Montgomery asked as they proceeded down the hall, "The Sword isn't a prison. She can't stay here."

"No, she can't." Arano led them toward the lift, "Lord Karosas lost a daughter on Weldry, and we weren't there to help him. I can't undo that wrong, but I can give him justice. We will transfer Lady Victoria into his custody, to be held until I say otherwise."

"Of course, my Lady." Montgomery acknowledged with a nod, "We'll hand her over as soon as the Lord is ready."

Courtyard, Palace Karosas

"Lady Arano," Lord Simon Karosas greeted flanked by his personal guard, "My staff has taken Lady Espinosa into custody; she is being escorted to her cell as we speak." His jaw hardened, "A kinder fate than she deserves, perhaps… but I will adhere to the terms of our arrangement. While she remains in my custody, she will not be harmed."

Arano nodded, flanked by Montgomery, Scarman, Rosse, and Madiera, "You are an honorable man, Lord Karosas. One day, I hope to earn your support."

"You already have it. What you've done feels like justice, Lady Arano, of a kind I never thought I'd live to see." Karosas turned to Scarman and Rosse, "General, Commander, I owe you a debt of thanks as well. You both did herculean work to capture the Newgrange. She will never darken our skies again."

"She was more important than just a smuggling ship, Lord Karosas." Scarman warned, "It was captained by Christopher Ostergaard, and I don't have to emphasize what that means."

"Santiago was close to negotiating additional support for his war effort." Karosas nodded, "He is in your custody, correct Lady Arano?" He motioned for them all to sit in the nearby gazebo.

"That is correct." Arano sat across from Karosas, "With any luck, we can convince Protector Calderon to withdraw his support for my uncle and we can win this war quickly."

"I wish you godspeed on that endeavor, my Lady." Karosas turned to Montgomery, "It is good to see the Master-at-Arms alive. How do you fare, Lord Montgomery?" Karosas asked.

Raju raised a hand in protest, "Please, Lord Karosas, you heap praise upon me far above my station."

"Nonsense." Karosas shook his head, "Lord Arano would be proud to know that his daughter lived thanks to your efforts. I just wish I could have done the same for mine." Karosas glanced at Arano wistfully, "I… I apologize for my earlier behavior, my Lady. My family has been rent asunder and—"

"No need." Arano said softly, "I wasn't there. I should have been."

"Realistically, what could you do? Your uncle put a price on your head and forced you into hiding. I… I just couldn't after Lina was snatched from me. Your uncle put Smithon under his jackboot and never slackened his pressure. That bastard took everything that was important from me."

"I'm sorry." Arano shifted her eyes downward, "You all have suffered so much. I should've been here sooner, taken action—"

"Stop." Karosas gave her a stalwart stare, "You and your Restoration have given us hope for the first time in three years. We will face that monster together."

"Agreed." Lady Arano stood up and extended her hand, "To victory, Lord Karosas."

Karosas stood and shook her hand, "To victory."

General Rosse stood and leaned into Arano as she stepped away from Karosas, "Lady Arano, Cerun is in orbit. He says he has a surprise for us."

Meeting Room, BLV Maneki-Neko

30 November 865 AS/2010/3025

"What?" Lady Arano asked, flabbergasted, "Are you certain?"

"My friends and I are good, Kamea." Cerun replied in his usual confidence. In the center of the table was a holo-image of an ancient castle nestled in the mountains of Artru.

"I don't want to ask where you managed to get this kind of information." Montgomery shook his head, "This is straight out of fiction."

"Oh, trust me, it's real. My friends have reactivated the base and it is ready for you. Toured it myself." Cerun smiled as he brought up the inventory, "I believe this will help alleviate any equipment concerns you were having." He pushed the image of the list toward Arano whilst pulling out holo-copies and sending them around to the meeting's attendees, "I hope this is enough to prosecute any future action."

Lady Arano, Lord Madiera, Raju Montgomery, General Rosse, Commander Scarman, and Darius Oliveira scrolled down the extensive materiel list. 'Mechs, vehicles, arms, and armor, enough to completely overhaul the Restoration's second-line forces and augment their frontline with near-peer equipment before the next arrival of Magistracy resupply.

Arano looked over at Oliveira, "You were born in the Artru system, correct Mr. Oliveira?"

"Yes, Lady Arano." He responded, "I grew up on Nassau Heights, one of the orbital hab stations above the surface. Nobody makes planetfall except for the surface mining teams, and they stay only for month-long shifts. It's too dangerous for permanent habitation."

"The Star League seemed to disagree." Montgomery interjected as he leaned over the image of Castle Nautilus, "They invested a lot to build an outpost castle like this…"

Arano stared into the image, "I remember an old folk story that originated with those mining teams… my father shared it with me when I was young. 'The Locura,' I think it was called? If memory serves, it was about an ill wind that would howl through the canyons, killing engines and scrambling computers. The stuff of nightmares for such an inhospitable world."

"It's a gremlin story," Oliveira confirmed, "something the miners can blame when they pass out drunk with the headlights running. 'The Locura killed my engine! I barely got out alive!" he shook his head, "Not our proudest achievement as a culture, but apparently it gets around."

"Surprisingly, it's not too far from the truth." Cerun corrected, "It's actually an ECM field that was designed to help disguise the presence of the base from prying eyes. It was augmented by an automated defense system that was to protect what they called Castle Nautilus from interlopers."

"How did your 'friends' manage to deal with that?" Scarman asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"They know their way around computers." Cerun shrugged, "Rest assured, it is secure and ready to be handed over to your command. I recommend you depart for Artru post-haste. I've already transmitted handshake protocols to the Sword. You can distribute that to whoever is headed with you."

"General Cerun and I will remain behind with our forces." Rosse nodded at Arano, "We have reason to believe that your uncle will send a force to break your cousin out of imprisonment. We will help Lord Karosas formulate a defense strategy and coordinate said defense in the event of such action."

"I will remain behind as well, my Lady." Montgomery said, "Lord Karosas needs a familiar face to liaise with and I am the right man for the job."

"Very well." Arano rose from the table, "We will set off tomorrow. Lord Madeira, I trust you to begin negotiations with the Taurians in my absence. Treat Captain Ostergaard well, and we may not see any Taurian soldiers on our soil. General Rosse, General Cerun, Raju, I trust you three with the defense of Smithon. Ensure the security of my people. Scarman, you and your company are with me. Hope for the best, expect the worst." Arano nodded to all present, "Let's go."

Command Information Center, Castle Nautilus

Artru

Artru System, Disputed Aurigan Space

19 December 865 AS/2010/3025

"We have contacts in system." Announced the sensors officer, "Multiple Invader-class JumpShips at the star jump point."

"DropShips?" Asked Major Metharom, "Who's colors are they flying?"

"Waiting for decoupling." Sensors punched up the image on the holo-table, "Can't tell yet."

"Tactical, spin up the squadrons, mobilize the troops." Metharom ordered, "Comms, confirm with the Lady Jessica and keep me advised on who the hell is coming our way."

"Ma'am," Sensors called, "we have decoupling. VIs are identifying DropShips… First ones on approach burn are two Gram-classes, and a Dragon-class. One Gram-class has a Leopard-class docked to it. IFF indicates Restoration."

"Comms, confirm contact protocol for this."

"Aye, ma'am." Comms responded, "Lady Jessica confirms protocol. Pinging now." They nodded in confirmation, "Handshake protocol confirmed. Incoming transmission."

"Maintain ECM and ECCM protocols. Put them through." Metharom stood ready as she awaited the image of the sender. On the other end of the table the image of Lady Kamea Arano appeared.

Bridge, ACV Sword of Restoration

En Route to Artru

"Please confirm your identity." The static noise image requested of her.

"My name is Lady Kamea Arano, leader of the Aurigan Restoration." Arano responded, "I was told that we were to rendezvous with 'friends' of General Cerun."

"Give us a moment." The static noise figure disappeared off her bridge.

Arano scratched the back of her neck, "They seem friendly." She remarked to her XO, Captain Karen 'Sunbird' Andris, "I love the abject suspicion."

"My Lady, considering they reactivated a Star League Outpost on the outskirts of the Coalition…" Andris' voice trailed off.

"They should've been informed of our arrival." Arano countered, "Presumptuous of them to deny me access to a world that I rule."

"Yes, my Lady."

The static noise figure reappeared on her bridge, "Please place a hand on the holo-table." The holo-table lit up the location for Arano to interface with.

"Okay…" Arano gingerly placed her right hand on the indicated spot, "And?"

In an instant, the image coalesced and revealed a uniformed woman before them, "Lady Kamea Arano. Forgive the multiple security checks, we just have to be sure that you are who you say you are."

"I've introduced myself. Who am I speaking to?" She asked the figure as she subconsciously put some more space between herself and the unknown person.

"I am Major Metharom, current commander of Castle Nautilus. We are transmitting an approach vector for you and your entourage."

"Who do you represent, Major?" Arano narrowed her eyes.

"The White Wings, Lady Arano."

"Never heard of you."

The Major smiled, "My superior will have much to discuss with you, Lady Arano. These are discussions that should be conducted in a more secure environment. We will be ready for your arrival. Nautilus out." Her image disappeared.

"Do the 'White Wings' ring any bells, Captain?" Arano asked Andris.

"All I can think of is an old story from almost half a century before…" Andris stroked her chin as she paced around the holo-table, "Ever heard of the Vandenberg White Wings?"

"The Tripitz Affair. My father told me a story of how unmarked white ships attacked Concordat ships in an uncharted system." Arano bowed her head in thought, "They can't be the same people who attacked the Taurians, could it?"

"We can't say, not yet, but it's interesting to say the least."

Landing Zone Incognita, Castle Nautilus

Artru

27 December 865 AS/2010/3025

The Restoration had made the decision to send the Mentor's Ghosts ahead to secure the landing zone. Two DropShips, the Gram-class Ghost of Coromodir and Leopard-class Ghost of Montgomery landed and deployed their compliment of 'mechs and vehicles with the Mentor's Blade in a lazy flight path ten kilometers away to put down heavy firepower in case they needed it. To meet them, the Castle's new defenders deployed a company of vehicles the Ghosts had never seen before. If not for the sophisticated sensors of their 'mechs they would have blended in perfectly with the absolute white conditions of the landing zone. Scarman and his company were greeted by the Castle's staff. Satisfied by the response, Scarman gave the all clear for Lady Arano to land the Sword of Restoration. Minutes later, Lady Arano arrived with two lances of the best pilots of the 2nd Decimis Fusiliers. The circumstances required a show of strength.

Arano, Scarman, and their entourages were escorted through the massive main entrance doors. Directed to the motor pool to park their 'mechs and vehicles, they were escorted by White Wing soldiers to a meeting room. They gazed around at the immaculate state of the facility. If they didn't know better, this Castle would have appeared to have been active and maintained over the centuries instead of being recently reactivated. The halls bustled with activity as people did their duties. In the motor pool, Arano caught a glimpse of what looked like a horde of vehicles. She thought back to the inventory Cerun showed them on Smithon. Would these people, so heavily entrenched, really hand over enough firepower to change the dynamics of the Rimward Periphery?

They arrived at the meeting room. Awaiting them were two women: one sat at the head of the table, while the woman that greeted them some days before stood behind her. Both wore the same white uniform, shoulder emblazoned with a black geometric pair of wings. The woman sitting wore four black bars on her shoulders while the woman standing wore three. Arano quickly understood the hierarchy. The woman sitting stood.

"Lady Arano," the woman who just stood greeted, "welcome to Castle Nautilus. My name is Captain Marie Anahera of the White Wings. Please, sit." She motioned to the chair on the far end of the table, opposite her.

Arano sat, flanked by Captain Andris and Commander Scarman, "Thank you, Captain Anahera. I was informed that you had some hardware to hand over to us."

Anahera sat, "Down to brass tacks. Yes, but that's not all. Castle Nautilus is to be handed over to your command, Lady Arano."

Arano hid her emotions, the stunning statement was not to throw her off balance, "I see. Why, Captain?"

"We have explicit instructions to assist the Restoration in all but direct combat. Though far from the front lines, this location is the best place to direct your war effort. Hardened against conventional attack and given the state of naval warfare this is where strategy can be directed. From here we can train green units into combat-effective forces."

Arano glanced around the room. It was impressive to be sure, but doubt still hung in her mind, "My previous question remains, Captain: Why? Why assist us in our struggle? What do you have to gain?"

"A friend in the Rimward Periphery." Anahera stated simply, "This is an investment in the future, a prosperous future under your rule."

Arano laughed bitterly, "My uncle shattered that future when he seized the throne. Whatever the outcome, the Reach will be rebuilding for years to come."

"Let me ask you a question," Anahera shifted in her seat and leaned forward, "What would you rather see: the Reach under the jackboot of the Directorate, stripping the edges of the former Coalition to fortify its center; or a Coalition reinforced with all worlds prospering under your rule?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Captain. Yet, I am no fool. I can see the destruction wrought by the civil war. Even on our liberated worlds, my people live under rationing. Homes have been destroyed; livelihoods laid low. What do you have to gain?" Arano pressed.

"Mutual friends want us to see your success." Anahera leaned back, "Forgive me if this is not my place, but the practicality of your current situation necessitates you garner support wherever you can. I imagine that despite your current successes, you need materiel to refit and replace those lost not to mention equip your expanding military force. This is war. Not a battle, not an extended engagement. The victor is not determined by honor, glory, or individual battles. War, especially one of this scale, is determined by who can get what they need precisely when they need it. Logistics, industry and economics, Lady Arano. That wins wars. The equipment here and service we offer not only represents a logistical and economic boon in the face of your enemy, but it also represents time. If you had the industrial capacity to assemble equipment of this level of sophistication, it would still take years to build up this much. If you had the spare experienced personnel to train your forces, it would still take months to get them in the field. We are eliminating the industrial part that process and getting troops in the field with the experience necessary to be capable combatants. I don't think you can turn that down."

Kamea stared hard at Anahera, "What would the Reach owe you and your people, Captain? This much, all at once, is never free. What are your terms?"

"We have friends of our own that want to assist in the rebuilding process. After the war, the Reach will need to be rebuilt. I have been instructed to hand these terms to you personally, and so I shall." Anahera handed Major Metharom a tablet to walk over to Arano, "If you need to consult your counsel, feel free."

"My most trusted advisors are not with me. How can I contact them?" Arano asked, "There's not HPG in this system."

"Cerun has already accounted for that. Your DropShips and this base have FTL communication built in, unfortunately incompatible with ComStar's HPG network. Given that Cerun isn't here, you can contact him and get your counsel on the line."

Arano kept her surprise suppressed, "I will do so. I hope it is not inconvenient to reconvene tomorrow with a response."

"Of course not." Anahera stood up and Arano did the same, "We're not here to strip the Reach bare, Lady Arano. That does not suit the goals of you or those I represent. I speak the truth when I say our friends want to see you succeed. Please keep that in mind."

"I will." Arano nodded to Anahera and exited the room with her entourage. The door slid closed behind them. As the echoes of footsteps faded into the distance, the Fleet Captain and Major began their own exchange.

Major Metharom sat next to her superior officer, "I can see her inexperience, ma'am."

"She's been exposed to a real war in a very short amount of time." Anahera noted, "She's, what, in her twenties? Imagine being a monarch during the most destructive event in your nation's existence. Forced from your throne, returning to a fractured nation with some mercenaries and a chip on your shoulder. Major, you've got at least a decade on her. I've got more. I remember what happened when my nation descended into civil war. It was cleaner than this one, but nonetheless destructive. Watching comrades turn on one another is never an easy thing, and when it's family?" She sighed, "It makes it even more personal."

Lady Arano quickly made her way back to the Sword of Restoration. Cerun and the Wings represented some other force in the galaxy, one surely contained in the tablet given to her. Who else had interest in her corner of space? She took a glance at the tablet handed to her and skimmed the data within as they returned to their own meeting room.

"It's not only the Magistracy…" Arano said to herself as they all sat around the table, "Captain Andris, please keep an eye on the bridge, open a channel to General Cerun and route it here."

"Yes, my Lady." Andris rose quickly and exited the room.

"Commander, take a look at this for me." She handed him the tablet.

Scarman looked at the data, "Who the hell are the 'Independent Systems Alliance?'"

"A new state on the far side of the Periphery." Arano answered, "There have been some news out of Antallos that has made it out here."

"How…?" Scarman gave her a sideways look.

"When you're a deposed monarch, you have a lot of time on your hands in between gathering forces for your return." Arano lightly rubbed a temple, "Quite a lot has happened on the border between the Federated Suns, the Draconis Combine, and the Outworlds Alliance."

"Hmm…" Scarman stroked his chin, "Maybe when this is all over, I'll make my way over there."

"Yes, but why would such a small, far-off state take an interest in the Reach?" Arano directed at him.

"Seems like they want a new market over here." Scarman scrolled down, "Shrewd move. If what they offer is below current market rate, even with shipping costs factored in, their industry stands to make handsome profits this way."

"Lady Arano," Andris' voice chirped through the table, "connection established. General Cerun has Lord Madeira with him."

"Excellent. Put them through." Arano watched as General Cerun and Lord Alexander Madeira's holo-images materialized across from her, "General, Alex, I have something for you to see." She placed the tablet on the table and transmitted the information to the pair.

Alexander looked down and read the data, "These are generous terms, on par to what we gave the Magistracy."

"Good to see that Anahera did her job." Cerun commented, "Have you gotten a tour yet, Lady Arano?"

"Not yet." Arano shook her head, "I wanted to consult with Alex before we agreed to anything."

"Understandable." Cerun cracked his neck, "Ah, I'm sure you'll agree that we need this equipment to ensure that we can keep what gains we've made and to continue our advance against the Directorate."

"Concerning that, Alex, have you begun talks with the Concordat?" Arano asked her chief advisor.

"Yes, my Lady." Madeira bowed, "Captain Ostergaard put me in contact with his father. After assurances that no harm came to them while under captivity, he heard me out. Days after, I gained an audience with Protector Calderon. He understands your position, that this affair should be solved by Aurigans, but cannot as of now cut off the flow of materiel to the Directorate. He thinks the Perdition Massacre is a blatant act of Davion aggression and sought allies in a potential war against the Federated Suns. He said it would be unbecoming to leave a pledged ally out in the cold in their hour of need. What he did assure me is that no Taurian forces would be committed to the field of battle, but unless there was sufficient reason to the material support would still flow into the Directorate."

"Damn." Arano clenched a fist and sighed, "At least we don't have to worry about the TDF. Cerun, how about the defense of Smithon?"

"We're ready, Lady Arano. They won't reach Palace Karosas, but I am concerned about where Victoria is being held. I tried to get Lord Karosas to relocate her, but he wouldn't budge."

"I can't really press him either." Arano pointed at Cerun, "Do what you can. You and General Rosse haven't put a bad foot forward yet. We need time to spin up parts and ammunition lines to support our advance and hold our gains. Smithon has a robust industrial capacity, but they will need time to increase their production capacity and integrate new parts into their lines. Ryan's Fate and Ichlangis have been instrumental in providing the raw materials we need to produce ammunition, and Bringdam has been providing necessary foodstuffs with Panzyr in the agricultural state it's in. Enkra has been rebuilding its industrial capacity now that they are free from the Directorate's jackboot, but again that will take some time." Arano rubbed her temples, "This war needs to end quickly."

"We'll be ready, don't worry." Cerun nodded, "We have an asset in numbers that the enemy does not, at least they haven't shown: aerospace. They don't have fighters in the same numbers we do, and we've leveraged that. I don't think the Concordat will be willing to supply the numbers they need as they need it for their own defense against Federated Suns."

Arano took a breath to steady herself, "Good point. Lord Madeira, have you looked over the document in its entirety?"

"As much as I could in the time I've been here." Madeira looked at Arano, "We need this materiel and Artru as a base. An intact Star League Castle will give us the ability to project power into the core systems, not to mention what it will mean after the war. To have such a fortress against possible Taurian retribution seems prudent."

"Agreed. I will reconvene with the White Wings tomorrow and notify them of our final decision. Alex, keep me appraised of what the Taurian stance is and if there is any way to break this alliance, we need to find it. If not, I think this war will keep grinding on for much longer than any of us want it to."

Bridge, BLV Blazing Cat

FOB Nova, Smithon

Smithon System, Aurigan Coalition Space

31 December 865 AS/2010/3025

The sensors officer kept vigilant watch over the networked reconnaissance assets deployed by the Black Lotus Battalion. With Victoria Espinosa interred on Smithon, it was only a matter of time before the Directorate attempted a rescue. They had been beaten once, but they had adapted. The Directorate had learned to rely on massed firepower, concentrating their forces against the Restoration. Against the BLB and the Ghosts, it had slowed them down. Against the Restoration's frontline forces, it had resulted in more damage and casualties. Both sides had settled in now that the lines had stabilized. It was now a matter of who would move first.

There was a ping from their orbital assets. JumpShips had been detected days before and they had watched as multiple DropShips made a burn for Smithon. Generals Cerun and Rosse ordered for the defenses to be readied. The Black Lotus Battalion made up the bulk of the defense on Smithon as a number of the Restoration's forces had been redeployed in preparation for a new offensive. It was up to them to guard House Karosas from the inevitable counterattack. The pings clarified and showed numerous Directorate DropShips just hours away from landing. The sensors officer nodded to the comms officer.

"Drummond-One," the comms officer rang Rosse, "Contacts are confirmed inbound. Sensors estimate within two hours, probably less, over."

"Aff." Rosse responded, already on the field with her Konev, "All stars are in position. We'll send these savashri back to the void."

The comms officer held their earcup close, "Liberty-One confirms he and his squadron are in the air, along with Cat's Eye-One. They are on the preset frequencies." He transmitted the information to his superior.

"Aff." Rosse turned her Konev to her first nav point, "Drummond-One continues to point alpha. Drummond-One out." Rosse gave the order and her star proceeded to their defensive position. It was only a matter of time until the Directorate came at them in force, and she was ready.

FOB Citadel, outside Palace Karosas

Raju Montgomery was given command of a hastily assembled force of two lances, what remained of Lord Joseph Karosas 'mech guard. He piloted a Konev, given to him by the Black Lotus Battatlion. It reminded him of a Marauder, but this was much more capable than the MAD-3R he was used to seeing in the field. A more curved armor profile, more powerful weapons, more capable armor, defensive systems, and battlefield visibility he had never seen before, this Konev was leagues ahead of anything the Directorate fielded. The two lances under his command consisted of hastily upgraded 'mechs salvaged from the battlefields the Restoration had fought on. There was: a pair of Centurions; a Panther; a Cicada; an Enforcer; a Vindicator; and a pair of Commandos. Thanks to the efforts of Restoration and Mercenary techs, they had been upgraded to the new Restoration standard, save the near magical 'shield' system. Where Lady Arano had obtained such a cache of weapons before her campaign began, he had to ask, but it gave the last 'MechWarriors of Smithon a fighting chance against what was shaping up to be a large Directorate strike force.

He got the final word. Dozens of Directorate DropShips were dropping on Smithon and he knew who their target would be. He had to be smart in how he deployed the lances, especially given their relative inexperience. Around the Palace he found multiple strongpoints that would act as force multipliers as his lighter forces took shots from afar. For him and the heavier 'mechs, they would be the reaction force to respond to any fires that were blazing a bit too hot. He had aerospace assets on standby to hammer targets caught out and the artillery support of the Maneki-Neko and the Blazing Cat to lay down firepower by the literal ton.

"Abram-Actual to all forces," his comms rang, "Directorate forces confirmed landed and closing. All forces to engage and destroy the enemy. Abram-Actual out."

"That's our cue." Montgomery called to his lances, "Able Lance, you're with me. We're gonna put out any concentration the enemy is building. Bravo Lance, you are to hold your defensive positions and take shots at any enemy that is in your range. If it gets too hairy, call Liberty, Cat's Eye, or Abram for fire support. If you need us, you know how to call us." Montgomery pushed his 'mech forward, "Mastiff out."

Montgomery and Able Lance advanced down a street and into the city, navigating around the buildings to reach the outskirts. Directorate forces were consolidating and beginning to advance. As he and the lance reached the outskirts, he caught sight of dust plumes. They were kilometers away, outside his weapon range. He looked up at the sky and saw the contrails of aerospace fighters lazily circling above. Just as he wondered why they weren't making an attack run his eyes were torn back to the dust plume. Multiple explosions flashed in the distance as the mustering Directorate force faced the long-range firepower of the BLB. He couldn't see where it came from, but that was the point. The dust plume settled and continued to move forward, just smaller.

Cerun kept a lock on the mass of Directorate forces closest to the capitol as more DropShips landed. They had to soften them up for Rosse and Montgomery to finish the job. For this, Cerun broke out the BLV Carbuncle, one of the Black Lotus Battalion's Dragon-class DropShips. They needed to achieve fire superiority in any engagement and the Directorate lacked the aerospace assets to stop them. It was to be directed only by him, so Liberty squadron could engage an area, Cat's Eye squadron could handle its own, and the Carbuncle could hammer the last. He zoomed in on the incoming Directorate force. They had destroyed and disabled a good number of them, perhaps twenty percent, but the rest had gotten wise and spread out their formation. It was an imposing regiment of mixed armor and 'mech forces. He zoomed in closer and took a hard look at the heraldry of the enemy. It was the Directorate, that was certain, but the paint looked fresh. Cerun made a note of that as he keyed up his comms.

"Liberty Squadron, Liberty-One." He began, "You're cleared hot." He locked onto multiple Directorate 'mechs and armored vehicles and thumbed the stick multiple times.

MAM-7 Tiger Shark missiles deployed from the belly of his fuselage and flew to their targets. Unbeknownst their marks they had already been designated for destruction. At speeds multiple times that of sound they found their marks. The multi-aspect missiles, having identified the kind of target, adjusted their warheads disposition to optimize armor penetration. As the missiles careened into their targets, the pilots noticed far too late and began evasive maneuvers. They were doomed from the start. Explosions tore apart 'mechs, popped turrets off tanks, shredded through the armor of personnel carriers and fighting vehicles. In their wake, thousands of tons of man and machine were left burning on the battlefield. Despite this, the Directorate pressed forward. They understood that their mission took precedence above all else. Besides, their own mercenaries were on their way, they just had to make a hole.

Directorate artillery rolled out of the DropShips began shelling the defensive positions of the BLB and the thin defense of the Karosas House Guard. Though they couldn't hope to dent the armor of the DropShips of the BLB, they hoped that perhaps they could throw off their aim enough slacken their fire. This was a doomed mission, as their Thumper and Sniper artillery pieces could not move fast enough to evade the effective counter-battery fire of the DropShips nor their guided warheads. Blast upon blast tore through the artillery and left craters in their wake.

"Abram-Actual to all forces!" the Blazing Cat rang, "We have new contacts on the scope! They're going to land in the city!"

Cerun swung his fighter around and watched as a series of birds in a blue flame marked DropShips conducted hot landings all over the capitol, "Damnit! Diamond-One, shift fire to my grid! Liberty Squadron, Cat's Eye Squadron engage the new contacts!" He let loose a volley of missiles on a lance of 'mechs that dropped on the streets, "Mastiff, you've got incoming!"

"Liberty-One, Diamond-One!" The Carbuncle replied, "We've got bogies bearing zero-six-zero, range thirty clicks at angels five! Multiple spikes!"

"Roger! -Two, -Three, -Four, hold hands! Diamond-One, break left, we're coming!" He laid on the throttle and was forced into his seat as his Fedaykin went supersonic, the powerful engines propelling him forward. The inertial compensator was at the edge of its capacity as Cerun and his wing broke the sound barrier from what was essentially a standing start. He focused as he shoved superfluous thoughts from his mind. Questions like 'how did they get so close?' and 'who were these guys?' were replaced by the need to ensure the survival of himself and those he was tasked to defend. He got positive lock on an incoming bogey at over forty kilometers away, "Abram-Actual, bogey dope, over!"

"Liberty-One, bogies are bandits, I repeat, bogies are bandits. You are cleared hot."

"Confirmed, Abram-One." Cerun's eye twitched as he sent a mental command to his fighter, "Liberty-One, fox-three! Fox-three!" Cerun launched a pair of Tiger Sharks from his fuselage as the rest of his wing did the same. He peered into the distance as his sensors showed the contacts breaking off from the Carbuncle. The enemy defending, Cerun and his wing pressed forth.

Montgomery led his lance through the streets to engage the new enemy. His preparations he recommended to Lord Karosas were taken seriously, and there were multiple hard points around the city that the hastily raised militia forces manned. In the distance, explosions rang through the alleys as they advanced. His Konev stepped adeptly through the roads and avenues that wove through the city. He checked his map. Multiple contacts were detected under a kilometer away. He checked their IDs, hoping that the computer knew what he was to face. His eyes widened as he saw the 'mechs he was to engage: Zeus ZEU-6S, Atlas AS7-D; Marauder MAD-3R; Archer ARC-2R. The enemy had brought some of the best, battletested equipment the Inner Sphere had to offer to hit Smithon. He rounded a building to get a firing solution on the lance just as he saw the powerful Luxor Industries one-hundred-twenty-millimeter AC-20 cannon of the enemy Atlas rip into a militia position. The Atlas turned to face him and began to advance. He gave a half smile as the computer confirmed the target was locked. He squeezed his trigger.

The Atlas staggered as ionized particles smashed into its left side armor, scorching the air as it passed through. With no time to recover, Montgomery unleashed a full barrage of rail gun slugs and pulse laser fire. The enemy lance was out of position, with no one able to support their embattled comrade in any reasonable amount of time. Six slugs of metal propelled to extreme velocities slammed into the arm, torso, and leg cratering the tough armor. The pulse laser pair cut into the scarred armor, melting into slag piles on the ground. Though caught off guard, the Atlas pilot was a professional. They turned to face Montgomery and immediately retaliated with the only weapon that had the range. Their LRM-20 fired two volleys of ten missiles in rapid succession to break contact and regroup with their lance. True to his callsign 'Mastiff,' Montgomery charged into enemy fire, the missiles exploded harmlessly on his shields. As he closed the distance, the other weapons of the Atlas were in range. Four medium lasers fired, absorbed by the shield. He responded with another volley of ERPPC fire and blew off the Atlas' right arm. Closer, the Atlas fired its SRMs. Six missiles erupted from the torso, coursing their way towards his Konev. The pulse lasers in his arms automatically shifted to point defense fire and began to intercept the short-range missiles. Three were swatted out of the sky, sliced in half, and harmlessly skidded to a halt in the streets. Three managed evade the anti-missile system and impacted his shields. Montgomery glanced down at his integrity readout: Shields stood at sixty percent. The Atlas was wounded, but still stood strong. The pilot unleashed every weapon they had in a devastating alpha strike. The Konev's pulse lasers couldn't keep up with the thirty missiles headed his way. The remaining medium lasers spread their damage across Montgomery's shields, but the Atlas' pilot knew that something had to give. Montgomery, watching his shield level dip lower and lower unleashed a withering strike of his own. particle and slug reached out the narrowing distance and smashed into the already weakened armor of the Atlas. The full burst of six rail gun slugs shattered what remained of the right torso, but not before the Atlas pilot unleased an AC-20 round into the waning shields. That last kinetic and explosive force collapsed Montgomery's shields, but that mattered not. There was little more firepower that the Atlas had that could worry Raju now.

As this semi-duel took place, the rest of Montgomery's quick reaction force joined the grizzled veteran and fired upon the Atlas' compatriots. They picked their targets in unison to overwhelm each 'mech in turn. The battle was joined, and this would be Montgomery's first encounter with the 21st Rim Worlds Regiment.

Rosse fired on another enemy lance. She was five kilometers away from Montgomery's position and enemy numbers increased by the moment. She noticed their deployment pattern. These new hostiles were establishing a perimeter around the prison complex that held Victoria Espinosa. Her forces had to break through the perimeter before they could whisk the woman away back into Directorate space. The enemy was not making it easy for her. They had dropped paired lances, certainly having learned from the Directorate that their current weapons couldn't stand up 'mech for 'mech or vehicle for vehicle against the Restoration and their mercenary forces. The lance before her was tough, disciplined. They were not the disorganized, unskilled mess that seemed to occupy the Directorate. These were battle-hardened warriors, well versed in combined arms combat. They took advantage of the contested nature of the skies and allowed the Directorate forces outside the city to close in. Her DropShip Blazing Cat was doing all it could to direct the defense and provide fire support, but the sheer numbers were stretching them, the Maneki-Neko, and the Carbuncle to the absolute limit. She fired another burst from her rail gun. A Jenner unlucky enough to be slightly out of position was destroyed outright. As if by a posthumous response, she was greeted by artillery rounds falling around her. The airburst rounds exploded above, peppering her shields with shrapnel.

"Star!" She called over comms, "Spread out, maintain distance discipline!" She fired her particle cannons at a fleeting Spider, "Break through, warriors! Show them the fury of the Great Father!" She shifted her comms frequency, "Abram-Actual, we have rounds falling on us. Silence those guns."

"Abram-Actual, aff General." In the distance, the thump of artillery was felt as the Blazing Cat responded to Directorate artillery, "Those guns are not long on this world, General, but you need to break through."

"Give me some nav points, Abram." She commanded as she continued the fight, "They brought a lot to this battle. I need to slice where they are thin."

"Aff, General." A set of waypoints appeared on her HUD and on her tactical map, "We will keep the nav points updated as the battle continues, but this is what we have so far."

"That will do. Drummond-One out." She transmitted the waypoints to her star, "Star, advance! We must prevent them from achieving their objective!"

The enemy in the skies defended well. Cerun's wing managed to break them off from the Carbuncle, but they remained in the fight. The missiles had been defeated by some of the best flying he had seen in quite some time. That was of no concern as they fired another volley from twenty kilometers away. He wanted to maintain the beyond visual range advantage for as long as he could. If these pilots were as good at dogfighting as they were at defeating some of the most advanced missile technology of the ISA, then he was sure it would be one hell of a scrap.

"Fox-three, fox-three!" Cerun fired another pair of Tiger Sharks at the now eight fighters in union with the rest of his wing.

The bandits broke once again as he saw a flurry of smaller contacts emerge from each. He then realized what they were doing. Inner Sphere fighters weren't known for utilizing flares, so they used their sensors to lock on to the incoming missiles and fired their own compliments of missiles at them. Clever, but it burned up valuable ammunition to ensure their survival. He took a look at the contacts on his HUD as the sensor picture became clearer. He and his wing faced off against Sabres, Shilones, and Lucifers, a total of eight fighters. He was impressed with their ingenuity, but also realized that he had the ammunition advantage. Microfabricators were a hell of a thing.

Cerun thumbed the stick twice, "Fox-three, fox three!" He just had to keep the enemy off balance. Though he and the rest of Liberty wing held the advantage, it would be folly to dive headfirst into an unnecessary dogfight. His job was to ensure that the ground forces were supported, and the Carbuncle was doing a fine job in its intended role.

"Abram-Actual to all forces, we have DropShip signatures leaving the prison. I repeat, we have DropShip signatures leaving the prison."

"Abram, give me numbers." Cerun commanded.

"Two Leopards, three Danais, with other DropShips gathering the enemy in the city." A rumble came through over the comms, "Under fire, responding."

"Liberty-One to Drummond-One." He called as he shifted channels, "You're closest. Do you have eyes on the DropShips?"

"I have them, Liberty-One." Rosse responded, "They must have their objective if they're pulling out now." She paused her comms for a moment, "The enemy is conducting a fighting retreat. We will pursue."

"Liberty-One to Hound-One, sitrep."

"Liberty-One, we're still standing." Montgomery responded, "Palace Karosas suffered some shelling, but I think they were more focused on retrieving Victoria."

Cerun glanced at his HUD as the bandits broke off attempting to engage the Carbuncle and rendezvoused with the DropShips leaving the AO. "Fox-three, fox-three." He thumbed the stick twice more, "We'll keep up the pressure on our end as well, but I think we'll have a lot to talk about once this is done."

Makeshift War Room, Palace Karosas

2 January 866 AS/2011/3026

"So, it wasn't the TDF, which is a relief." Cerun began as he leaned back in his chair as he leafed through the AAR summaries, "The battle might've gone differently if the Taurian Navy landed a couple Fortresses on Smithon. Yet, it looks like the Directorate has hired one hell of a mercenary company."

"The 21st Rim Worlds Regiment." Montgomery nodded, "They're part of the Blue Star Irregulars, a company under the employ of the Federated Suns."

"That makes little sense." Lord Madeira noted from his seat, "What would a Davion-aligned mercenary unit be doing under the employ of the Directorate?"

"I would think that would strain relations with the Concordat." Lord Karosas added, "Do they even know?"

"How could they not?" Rosse observed, "Hiring a regiment would be hard to hide, especially one so aligned with their most hated foe."

"We could use this…" Madeira stroked his chin, "If the Taurian's nominal ally is actively hiring known Davion units, I don't think Protector Calderon would be pleased."

"Perhaps the Protector is being more cunning than he lets on." Karosas leaned forward, "His want for the defense of his realm may involve him attempting to woo mercenary companies like the Blue Star Irregulars into switching sides. About a third of House Davion's 'mech forces are comprised of mercenary commands. Imagine if he could turn a few of those companies."

"That would be an immediate shot of manpower and materiel," Montgomery considered, "not to mention the training potential. The Taurians are resilient, perhaps the most successful of the Periphery states, but they have the same problem as everyone else: lack of 'mechwarriors. You can get a 'mech running by so many different means of field modifications but getting good enough pilots to effect targets is hard. We saw the effectiveness of the 21st ourselves. You can tell they've trained in their operations and have the hardware to match some of the best in the Inner Sphere."

"You can say that again." Cerun interjected, "Their pilots are good. Never got a lock on us BVR, to be fair nothing in the Inner Sphere seems to be configured for BVR, but damn could they defend. I think we managed one hit and they were still flying."

"Compared to the Directorate, their ground losses were paltry." Rosse noted, "We savaged the Directorate force that hit us, but we confirmed only five losses by the 21st. They also managed to recover all their pilots, which is no small feat. Their force composition was approximately two-thirds 'mech, one third AFV. According to drone data and orbital assets, they kept those AFVs in reserve for the express purpose of pilot recovery." She turned to Montgomery, "I will say congratulations to you, Raju, for one of those kills. You managed to fell an Atlas, one that we saw was a true warrior."

"It was the Konev." Montgomery attempted to deflect, "The capabilities of that machine are above any 'mech I've ever piloted. If I had that when Marcus, Lady Arano and I were fleeing Coromodir I don't think Victoria would be alive."

"That is the most immediate problem." Karosas shook his head, "I should have heeded your advice and moved her to a more secluded site. Her rescue will be a morale victory for the Directorate."

"At the cost of a significant amount of materiel." Cerun countered, "We held off a pretty sizeable assault force. The Directorate expended precious vehicles, 'mechs, and ammunition in this raid. The only reason it succeeded was the 21st Rim Worlds. Did anyone review the comms intercepts? The Directorate withdrawal was disorganized at best. I did notice that the paint jobs on the machines were pretty fresh, which says materiel aid, but manpower? How the hell are they going to replace any of that in a reasonable amount of time? If the TDF doesn't send a force, then they'll burn through their professional and militia forces much faster than us. Gods help those pressed into service. Kind of hard to make a difference if you're simply meat into the grinder. That reminds me, did we get anything out of those who they left here?"

"Quite a few of those who were left behind willingly surrendered to us." Montgomery observed, "What they've told us is illuminating. Even though they're getting quite a few weapons, they're lacking in the basics. Hell, a third of 'em weren't even wearing uniforms. Food, medical supplies, they're simply running out. We're stretched thin, certainly, but they're fraying at the seams. The loss of Panzyr was a huge blow to their food rations. Even with Victoria back at her uncle's side, the soldiers on the front are already questioning if they can win the war."

"We just have to wait for the obligatory propaganda broadcast once Victoria returns to Coromodir." Karosas nodded, "Such an achievement has to be broadcast, especially considering their losses."

"When was the last time Lady Arano did her own broadcast?" Cerun asked Madeira.

"Not since Weldry." He replied, "We thought it prudent to focus on the war at hand."

"No press releases? No reports from the frontline? No media effort at all?" Cerun was flabbergasted.

"It is not our focus right now. We have a war to win." Madeira countered.

"Part of that war is in the media. These are your people, and they need to hear from their leader." Cerun emphasized, "Show them the suffering of the people on the edge of the realm, appeal to their humanity. Show them the work already done in restoring what this war has destroyed. Show them victory."

"He's right, you know." Karosas agreed, "I was shown firsthand what Lady Arano is capable of, and what Espinosa has done to our people. The rest of the Reach needs to see it."

"I'll assemble a media team." Madeira looked down at his sheaf of papers, "I wonder what she's up to now?"

Training Grounds, Castle Nautilus

Artru

Artru System, Aurigan Coalition Space

3 January 866 AS/2011/3026

Lady Arano observed the training regimen of her troops under the tutelage of Major Kulap Metharom. It didn't matter your assignment: infantry, armor, 'mech, logistics. What mattered were your physical abilities for the day. She looked up at the domed structure. To train in Artru's harsh atmosphere wouldn't be hard, it would be lethal. So, it seemed that the Star League had decided to build a large yard for training, celebrations, and all sorts of other purposes. Captain Marie Anahera informed her that they had made some upgrades to the facility, especially to this yard so that it could be more flexible in its use, but the Star League was responsible for the initial construction and assignment.

Captain Karen Andris led her unit in the exercise, adept in climbing the fake logs and crawling under the razor wire in full infantry combat kit. She was a 'mechwarrior, but she certainly didn't neglect her fitness. The rest of her unit kept up, with the few stragglers being supported by their comrades. Commander Marcus Scarman led his ragtag group through the course as well, though his team was much more diverse in their uniforms. His team was just as diverse in their abilities on the course, though it seemed that the camaraderie was perhaps even tighter than in Andris' unit. The less experienced units lagged behind and their unit cohesion left a bit to be desired, but that was what they were in the yard for.

Further down, she saw the firing range as one of her companies used ancient Star League weapons on targets. Arano asked if ammunition was a concern, but she was assured that they would not be expending ammo unnecessarily and there was local production capacity. Some of the soldiers were practicing with an ancient weapon, the Mauser 960 Assault System. Only the strongest could run with them but being a laser weapon, they had no problem keeping the weapon on target. No recoil meant vicious accuracy as the soldiers who could wield them melted the heads off their targets at six hundred meters repeatedly. Such accuracy was absurd, but the optics on the weapon were standard Star League issue which was completely unavailable here in the Reach.

Scarman and Andris joined her at the observation point as the rest of their units continued their exercises, "Hell a thing to put in an icy hellhole." Scarman noted, "Was this standard for all Star League Castles?"

"Good question." Andris replied as she dusted herself off, "Doesn't really matter at this point. Once we get our people in their machines and start training on Star League hardware we can begin distributing 'mechs and vehicles with trainers to match."

"How long before our forces are sufficiently trained to pass that knowledge on to others?" Arano asked.

"That's not how that works." Captain Anahera joined the trio, "We train your people, you decide where they go. I recommend integrating greener units with more experienced ones to increase the overall combat power of your military. We will train them well, have no doubt of that, but there are things you learn only on exercise or in the field. Much of this equipment we're not as familiar with as our own, but Star League equipment has more in common with your existing stockpiles than you think. Is it more complex, certainly, but we have manuals and such on site to ensure proper field maintenance. Capitol repair is also something that Nautilus is capable of."

"What?" Scarman was confused.

"Complete repair and refit." Andris clarified, "Wait, the Star League had such extensive facilities even on a base as far off as this?"

"From my understanding most of the Successor States try to maintain facilities like this close to the front." Anahera motioned to the yard, "They're not as capable as one of original Star League nick, but it's a doctrine that's passed down over the centuries."

"Do we have the personnel to coordinate such things?" Arano directed to Anahera.

"Give your logisticians more credit, Lady Arano. They've kept your military running on a myriad of materiel that ranges the gamut from brand new to centuries old, not to mention the food, consumables, ammunition, etcetera. We're giving them our tables and teaching them how to use the software that you have more efficiently. They've shown us what they've done and how they keep records and… I'm impressed they're able to keep so much actual physical paper straight with what they digitize. Making them go completely electronic will make them much more effective, but to be fair it will be more like honing a battle proven blade."

"Have you been talking to my people as well?" Scarman asked her, "It'd be nice to run my company a bit more efficiently."

"Of course. Your XO and his staff have been in the classroom over the past few days. What your company was able to do with the budget you had was herculean to say the least, but with the methods and software you have at your disposal now you should be running more effectively in the coming months."

"Good to hear." Scarman gazed further afield, "Oh, damn, are those vehicles behind an energy shield downrange?"

"Yes. We have made some modifications to the facility, as you were briefed, and part of the upgrades to the yard were a series of shield generators that help isolate fire and sound so infantry and vehicle crews can train separately at the same time. It's efficient."

"I'll say."

"Lady Arano," an adjutant approached and leaned in close to the sovereign, "transmission from Lord Madeira."

Meeting Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

"A media campaign?" Arano was somewhat dubious, "Alex, we're in a civil war."

"Cerun made a good argument the other day." Madeira's hologram sat across from her and displayed several documents, "Our people need to know what's going on out here. You remember your broadcast out of the Icebox?"

"It was a harrowing time." Arano shook her head, "Something needed to be said."

"Exactly. That is needed now more than ever, especially as the war stands."

"Even so, what good does my going on camera do while our people still suffer under the jackboot of my uncle's tyranny?"

"My Lady, the words you speak need to be broadcast throughout the Reach. That passion, that dedication to the people, inspires and grants to hope to those who have none."

"Do you already have a framework for this?"

Madeira smiled, "The team I put together with the assistance of Lord Karosas and Lord Decimis have a series of talking points and footage they want to release to the public about our advance and rule under your Uncle."

"Alex, I—"

He raised a hand, "My Lady, resistance across the Reach will help us achieve our objectives."

She slumped her shoulders, "I will review the documents and footage you wish to release."

"I'm glad to hear it. Now, there's an interesting lead from House Gallas that I think we should pursue…"

Majesty Metals and Manufacturing, Munitions Division

Delphi, Canopus IV

Canopus System, Magistracy of Canopus Space

17 January 3026/866/2011

The production floor was humming with activity as MMM worked tirelessly to fulfill the orders of the Magsitracy Armed Forces and the Aurigan Coalition. Engineers had already set about improving the ammunition that the Coalition used in their vehicles and BattleMechs. The round design was old, but effective when enough rounds connected with the target. That would not do, especially for the MAF. Existing autocannon ammunition was more effective than these primitive rounds, but they were having difficulty adapting existing ammunition designs to the tolerances the weapons were designed under. MMM Engineers worked alongside consultants from the ISA conglomerate to redesign similar autocannon rounds to fit the rotary cannons. They had promising developments with AC-2 ammo used in the ZeusBolt from Canopus Industries Alpha and AC-5 ammo derived from the Armstrong J11 MMM already had in production. The AC-5 ammunition was easier to work with as the 80mm bore size was closer to the 120mm and 105mm utilized by the rotary cannon designs. They tinkered with sizing up the round, but simulations found that the round velocity was unacceptably slow given the propellant limitations to maintain proper chamber pressure. An engineer from Earth suggested a fin-stabilized sabot design. MMM hadn't designed sabot rounds before, but the engineer assured them that it had merit. Simulations with various fin arrangements looked promising as it maintained velocity and imparted comparable damage to the Armstrong J11 with the added potential of spalling into the internal components if the ablative properties of standard armor are overcome. Of course, this was in simulation. The live fire test wasn't scheduled until next week.

The AC-2 ammunition project had more issues, but the designers held on to the firepower potential from the much smaller round. The rifled barrel of the 105mm variant was unsuitable for the idea that the designers had: multiple rounds in a single case. Initial efforts yielded subpar results: Dispersion at a kilometer was completely unacceptable according to ISA engineers. Their opposites at MMM thought this would be the outer edge of effective targeting capability, but after-action reports from the Aurigan Civil War stated otherwise. Coalition pilots and gunners on the ground were engaging comfortably from an average of one-and-a-half thousand meters, well out of the effective targeting range of all existing Inner Sphere targeting hardware. That pushed MMM to consider effective direct combat ranges to extend into the kilometers instead of the relative melee that dictated modern combat doctrine. Such rapid developments necessitated the more taxing work of creating novel solutions to battlefield dilemmas. So, the ammunition development would continue, especially under doctrine change.

Other departments were carefully examining the technical package provided by the companies involved. Though the equipment needed to manufacture the 'mechs and vehicles in the licensing agreement were there in plain blueprint and math, they wanted to understand the underlying technology. The materials science was more complex than even the Star League on certain components, and the computing technology was on a different level. Their initial efforts to replicate ISA computer technology barely made it under the wire to produce their first 'mechs and vehicles. With the passage of a few months, computer science experts from all over the Magistracy poured over the hardware and software in an effort to understand the foundation of their computer systems. Though less resilient than Inner Sphere computers, the hardware was much smaller and much more capable of complex processing. The software installed even had rudimentary intelligence, able to parse information and deliver relevant data to those who asked. Hardened against electronic warfare, something unheard of in modern combat, and capable of maintaining communications under the harshest of environmental and interference conditions, it was a lot for the engineers and scientists to parse through, even more so to iterate upon. This would be a years long effort, one that would not see immediate fruit but could benefit the entirety of the Magistracy.

Overall, the factory had begun to produce weapons and ammunition enough to relieve the Aurigan Coalition in their current operations tempo. Their counterparts at the 'mech and vehicle plants were ramping up production to match as they worked out the problems in the production lines. It had been centuries since they had produced military materiel at such a scale and had to relearn the institutional knowledge their forebearers had.

Commander Shizuka Banderas watched these projects and the perimeter from the central security station. She and Lady Ana Centrella noted the presence of ROM, Maskriovka, and SAFE operatives increase over the past few months. Their neighbors had taken notice of the rise of industrial activity and wanted to know exactly what they had in store. It was only a matter of time before MMM's products hit the open market, but it was in the best interest of the Magistracy and the ISA that those products are revealed when ready. ROM had taken a particular interest in the revitalization of MMM's industrial capacity and called for additional support from Terra according to her HPG taps. SAFE were playing it, well, safe. They kept their distance and did not engage in extensive direct observation. It was hard to pin down SAFE operatives, given the Free Worlds League's proclivity for shell companies. The Maskirovka kept a close eye on MMM's activities but simply did not have the personnel to dedicate to observation efforts. Lady Centrella entered the station and took her seat next to Banderas.

"Anything of note, Commander?" Centrella asked her counterpart as she took a sip of tea.

"The Capellans are rotating their personnel on schedule," She motioned to another bank of monitors, "ROM will do the same in a couple hours. SAFE's observers have retired for the day." She turned to Centrella, "You read the daily brief?"

"Skimmed it. ComStar is increasing their inquiries into Interstellar Investment Holdings." Centrella shrugged, "They won't find much."

"I know, but perhaps they should."

Centrella cocked an eyebrow, "Elaborate."

"Your neighbors in the coreward direction. They love their shell companies."

"Industrial investment from the FWL in us. Why would they?"

Banderas raised a finger, "There is historical precedent. After the invasion of the Magistracy by the Star League, the Free Worlds invested heavily in the Magistracy."

"At the cost of their own economy." Centrella countered, "They went into recession for a decade as a result. Would they make the same mistake again?"

"The League as a whole? Of course not, but member states?" She tapped her nose.

Ana Centrella could see what she was getting at. She was privy to the overtures made by Dame Catherine Humphreys and it made some sense that FWL-based companies would look to invest in the Magistracy to strengthen relations between realms. What Banderas knew of this potential alliance, Centrella knew not but understood that the ISA did not want undue attention on their current arrangement.

Centrella nodded, "I see what you're getting at. It's logical that such a neighbor would make this move. It would also be assisted by the lackadaisical behavior of SAFE's observers on this site…"

"Think on it. Better the enemy you know, right?"

Centrella gave her a blank look.

What do you know?

Royal Guards Proving Grounds, MAF Black Site

19 January 3026

The Magistracy Armed Forces historically had been one of the smallest, most nimble militaries in the sphere of the former Star League. Since the fall of their former conquerors and the collapse of the relative peace of the Star League era, the MAF had been forced to be small and nimble, given the regressed state of the Magistracy's industrial base. ISA investment changed that. For the first time in centuries, the MAF was expanding. New equipment, future expanded availability, and projected economies of scale inspired the Magestrix to authorize additional funds to the armed forces. Today were the official trials of the equipment being produced by MMM under license from the ISA. After-action reports and combat footage were one thing, seeing hardware perform in the flesh was quite another.

Colonel Lotte Dickinson oversaw the testing process. Today was to be the first in a long line of trials to ensure that the MAF would inherit competent and effective equipment to bolster and perhaps even replace their admittedly limited stocks of materiel. Her largest concerns were logistical. How would the new equipment fare under the MAF's current rapid response doctrine? Could the 'mechs, vehicles and their supporting equipment be rapidly redeployed around the Magistracy quickly and efficiently? Could they use existing stocks of ammunition, or would they have to supplement their stockpiles of autocannon ammunition with new ammo types to supply the new hardware? These were questions that would only be answered in multiple trials and limited troop deployments before they would know their answers. She had seen the AARs from the Aurigan Civil War and combat footage. It was apparent that the equipment was quite capable, but she and the rest of the MAF had to see for themselves.

First on the docket was the Black Panther, a design that slotted comfortably into the existing doctrine of the MAF. MMM had delivered two variants: the PPC-equipped version and what the ISA called a rotary cannon version. Originally, they had rejected the rotary cannon out of ammunition concerns, but reports from the field showed the potential of the system even through the current, more primitive ammunition. She was informed that MMM was working on new ammunition variants, but current ammunition variants were already in serial production to support Aurigan efforts and performed acceptably given the volume of fire in that conflict. The PPC variant was more appealing, but she and the rest of MAF High Command held reservations about their ability to service the weapon in the field. That concern was alleviated when she toured MMM's Canopus IV facilities a week before. They had spare parts, the knowledge to pass on to MAF technicians to keep the weapons functional.

Across the range she heard the distinct sound of sustained cannon fire. It sounded familiar, like an autocannon battery but she knew that it was from one machine. She glanced at the monitor as a Black Panther hammered away at its target. Data feeds displayed the ammo consumption of the barrage as it hit the target. The slab of Inner Sphere armor ablated and cracked under fire, the high explosive anti-tank rounds slapped into the target at the advertised standard combat range of one-point-five kilometers. All six rounds impacted the three meter by three meter target with a dispersion rate of less than a milliradian. Damage was effective, even though more ammunition was used than standard Inner Sphere autocannons. The other Black Panther unleashed its particle cannon blast at full power, the blue streak of ionized particles lashed its target, reducing a significant amount of the armor to slag. The ISA-spec PPC was more accurate and more powerful than Inner Sphere-produced versions which was the most appealing feature of the particle cannon variant. The most exciting part about this PPC was its ability to adjust power output to meet heat demands. Jumping always generated excess heat and would force pilots to be more judicious about what they fired. This helped alleviate such concerns.

Magestrix Kyalla Centrella strode behind the Colonel and delicately danced her fingers up the Colonel's back, "How does it look out there?"

Colonel Dickinson took a breath to remain composed, "What MMM's licensed is impressive so far, my Lady. We have yet to put them through initial maneuvering but if they move like their weapons shoot, we should have a real military again."

"Do we not, Colonel?" Centrella asked innocently.

"Forgive me, my Lady, but we haven't had the capacity, budget, or personnel to have a sizable standing military."

"Mmmm…" Centrella hummed as she put her around the Colonel's waist, "The Electors have supported the expansion of the MAF, my dear Colonel. After today's trials, I just need to sign the edict into reality."

Dickinson steeled herself from Centrella's advances, "Thank you, my Lady."

A smirk slowly spread across Centrella's face, "This is in defense of the realm. It is simply a necessity."

Dickinson lowered her voice, "My Lady, we're in public. We shouldn't…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Centrella feigned ignorance, her voice just as low, "I'm simply communicating with the head of my Royal Guards." She leaned closer, her breath tickled the Colonel's ear, "I hope my methods aren't insufficient."

She turned her head, lips almost touching, "My Lady…"

"We will continue this back at the palace." Centrella pulled herself away, "I trust your judgement."

Dickinson remembered to breathe, "Of course, my Lady."

Centrella motioned for her personal guard to rejoin her and exited the observation site. Dickinson took a moment to steady herself. The leader of the Magistracy was notorious for her proclivity toward seduction. Her inner circle was subject to her unquenchable desires, and Colonel Dickinson knew better than anyone. She was one of the many subjects of Kyalla Centrella's affections. Still, in public she strove to maintain professional composure and distance. The Magestrix made that effort difficult. She shook her head and refocused on the current round of tests. Initial weapons tests were concluded, and both Black Panther variants performed to specifications. Now, it was time to observe their movement capabilities.

Ready Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

Artru

Artru System, Aurigan Coalition Space

5 February 866 AS/2011/3026

Lady Arano shook her head in exhaustion. Recording hours of footage for a blossoming propaganda campaign was exhausting, and she had incorporated it into her daily routine alongside planning for the next offensive. Madeira kept her appraised of how everything proceeded in the rest of the realm. She reviewed the cuts of the videos for her campaign ahead of their broadcast, conferred with her inner circle about effectiveness, all on top of her existing responsibilities. She leaned forward and pinched the bridge of her nose to calm herself. As she closed her eyes, she was interrupted by the beep of her door.

"Enter."

Captain Andris came through and saluted, "Ma'am."

"Please, sit." Arano pushed forward a tablet to Andris, "Do you think we're ready?"

Andris picked up the tablet and reviewed the information before her, "It's close. We have a sizable training cadre, your soldiers are ready to lead and buttress greener elements, and the equipment is good. There are even some Sentinels in the mix, their ultra autocannnons in perfect order. Our techs and logisticians on site have studied the equipment manuals and can keep them in operation. Ammunition is a concern for the UACs, but the White Wings assure us there are facilities here to supply us comfortably for high intensity operations. Ensuring our supply lines are secure will be our greatest challenge, this is our only production facility for such things, but we can do so."

Arano sighed, "Captain, did you read everything?"

Andris scrolled down the document. Her eyes bulged, "…My Lady?"

"You've proven yourself over the past year, Karen. The experience you've gained, your efforts on the battlefield, your efforts here. You're not just a soldier."

"…There are more experienced members in the military, many more—"

"Please, Colonel." Arano looked up at her with a half-smile, "You will accept this commission. Your sovereign requires it of you."

Andris snapped to attention, "Yes, my Lady!"

Arano stood and retrieved Andris' new rank epaulets, "Congratulations, Colonel. You are now the head of the Royal Guard, the most senior military commander in the Coalition."

The newly minted colonel saluted, "Thank you, my Lady."

"Now, as your first act as Colonel of the Royal Guard, I command you to take over day to day operations of the war. You will report back to me as you have been, and you will have a staff to support you. You are free to assemble them as you see fit."

Andris swallowed hard, "As you command, my Lady."

Arano stood and put a hand on Andris' shoulder, "You've proven yourself capable on the battlefield in both action and administration. I would be foolish to let you stagnate as field commander. Now, go. You have a staff to assemble."

Andris saluted, which Arano returned crisply. In a move not seen since her parade days before the war, the new colonel turned precisely on her heels and exited the room in stiff parade march. Arano's smile remained. A significant weight was lifted from her shoulders. She could focus on the macro level of the war rather than every individual problem that popped up. She stared at the door. She understood that somehow, her cause gave her people hope. Still, she felt a creeping despair since the Icebox. No matter what she did, the advances the Restoration made, her people suffered. Here and now, with such a weight lifted, she felt what her people did.

There was still work to do. She arranged the papers on her desk and began to read the latest script Lord Madeira sent her. She took a breath and began to recite the words.

Helmsdown Administrative Center

Helm

Helm System, Free Worlds League Space

10 February 866 AS/2011/3026

The night was crisp, calm, and quiet. Patrolling security was lax. It was routine on this agrarian world. Business was concluded for the day, evening cleaning crews were finished, the building was empty. It was a night like any other.

Nights like these were a wet dream for people like Sam Fisher. He sat on a rooftop and observed a drone feed uplink of the government facility. The backwater obscurity of the world eroded security procedures to the point of such neglect that the nightly patrols were handled by a pair of security personnel. Even with such lax security standards, Fisher, Grim, a team of Triple-S officers and automated drone coverage carefully maintained watch over the grounds for the past month. The thick construction materials were no match for some of the most powerful penetrative sensors and the hard work of multiple human assets. Patrol routes, timings, security clearances, everything was meticulously recorded and catalogued for tonight.

The mission was what Sam argued for: a false flag attack on Helmsdown's government headquarters and placing the blame on ComStar's shoulders. Bashar Habsburg was squarely against him, but Triple-S head Bashar Superior Scarman saw merit in the operation. There was a stringent requirement from higher: zero collateral damage. That was a tall ask, but Fisher maintained that it was more than feasible.

Despite his position and rank in the Triple-S, Sam Fisher was the most seasoned field operative on world. Bashar Habsburg and Bashar Superior Scarman attempted to dissuade him from direct involvement in tonight's operation. They deemed it 'foolhardy' and 'exceptionally risky.' He countered that no one else could do it right. Through almost an hour of briefing his superiors of his operation, they gave him the green light. He checked the status of his power armor and equipment on his helmet HUD one last time. The fully enclosed PA-404 was a marvel of engineering that he had trained with ever since he left Earth nearly five years ago. He had yet to use it in the field, but he was eager to see how it stacked up to simulated missions. He waited for the guards to retreat into their guardhouse, activated the active camouflage system and descended the side of his observation point. His rappelling rope pulled taut as he carefully walked down the multi-story building to the ground. Fisher changed the settings on his HUD. It revealed various points of interest, security system coverage, and the location of security personnel in real time.

"Reaper-Actual, Price-One," Fisher called on comms, "transmitting feed, over."

"Reaper-Actual, roger. Signal clear." Mission controller Anna Grímsdóttir replied, "Nothing on scope, no movement beyond the perimeter. You may proceed as planned, over."

"Wilco, -Actual. Price-One out."

Fisher gingerly touched down as he terminated the comm line. The rappelling rope was disconnected from the rooftop and retracted into his suit. With well-practiced caution and care he followed the pre-planned route into the government facility. The timing was tight. The security codes he was given reset at midnight, which gave him just under an hour before he had to resort to the brute-force hacking module built into his equipment. He had a lingering suspicion that such a breach of security would be recorded somehow. Despite the interesting tech level of the Inner Sphere, it never hurt to be cautious. He approached the first door of the facility and pressed his hand to the credential reader. The reader flashed green and unlocked the door. With a small smile he opened the door.

The hall was well lit, security camera just above him. With a flick of his wrist, he activated the electronic backup in the security station left by some of the Triple-S' human assets. He looked down at his wrist to confirm what appeared to the camera. Throughout the building, the camera system was stuck in a video loop of the last few seconds. With confidence, he stepped forward into view and checked the feed. He was cloaked under the video loop. He proceeded to the next waypoint, a staircase in the center of the building.

Grímsdóttir and her staff kept a close eye on Sam and the entirety of the Administrative Center from a Baliset thousands of kilometers above. Their weeks of tireless effort, electronic taps, and human intelligence gave the Triple-S officers unprecedented access to Helmsdown's center of power. Besides the current false flag mission, they had another objective: to ensure and maintain a presence in the halls of power on world. To ensure the success of the false flag operations, human intelligence assets placed replica ComStar listening and observation equipment in important places around the facility. The constant observation of that order on Antallos had borne such fruit as even the most sensitive information were known to them. The oft neglected archives had been pierced by human and electronic assets and bestowed information locked away for centuries.

The Triple-S' own intelligence equipment were placed in unassuming locations, safe from the operation at hand. Grim and Fisher went over the operation in excruciating detail to ensure their success. Hidden caches of explosives were ready for Fisher's retrieval. Though everything was planned to perfection, they understood that even the most robust plan fell apart when faced with enemy contact. That's why contingencies upon contingencies existed.

"Ma'am," the sensors officer announced, "we have contacts."

Grímsdóttir wheeled around from her command chair, "What? Where?" She paced quickly and, in a moment, stood behind the sensors station.

"All directions. Initial analysis from the VI says a full infantry company in number, all in unmarked uniforms. Judging the feeds for myself, I have to agree."

"Goddamnit. Comms, open the line to Sam."

The comms officer nodded, "Open, ma'am."

"Price-One, Reaper-Actual, over." Grim stated, a twinge of worry crept into her voice.

"Price-One." Fisher responded.

"You have multiple unknown contacts converging on the site, over."

There was a pause, "Price-One copies. Accelerating the timetable, over."

"Price-One, recommend immediate exfil from site. We have no positive ID on force, over."

"Negative, -Actual. Site has been watered; flowers ready to bloom. Will exfil from site from point echo, over."

Grim blinked very hard as she looked at the emergency egress point at the top of building, "Say again, Price-One."

"Will exfil from point echo, over."

"I was afraid you said that. Roger, will proceed with descent. See you soon, Reaper-Actual out."

Grim shook her head as she sat back in her command chair.

The helmsman looked back at her, "Ma'am?"

She steadied herself, "Proceed with extraction echo. Sensors, keep me appraised of unknown contact actions and Sam's position. We have one shot at this."

The officer simply nodded and lay in a descent course to rendezvous with Fisher.

Fisher glanced behind him as he ascended the building. Dozens of signatures winked in and out of his HUD as they closed on the building.

Strange, he thought to himself, they also seem to have some sort of camo tech. Chameleon Light Polarization Shield? Null Signature System?

He ensured that his suit maintained its recording function as he continued skywards. He checked the live video feed from the security system. All he got was a blank window in his HUD.

Oh, they're good. Fisher smiled to himself as he neared the roof door, This debrief'll be interesting.

Quickly and carefully, he opened the heavy blast doors. His sidearm raised, he advanced onto the concrete and metal of the roof. In the periphery of his HUD came a brief contact indicator. He ducked behind a nearby HVAC unit and switched his HUD to detect the potential threat. He observed three figures stood in intervals covering one another just twenty meters away. He crept out of cover and advanced to the nearest contact. At ten meters from the still contact, he crouched below a raised air conditioning unit and took aim. Moments before he pulled the trigger on his HK MK 24 MOD 1, he analyzed his target.

Robots? Grim didn't mention robots… He backed his index finger off the trigger and held his position. If his sensors were correct, these units were armored with standard Inner Sphere 'mech armor. His sidearm wouldn't do a damn thing against that. Seemingly alerted to his presence, the now identified three robots turned their featureless faces toward him.

"We've got fire on echo, ma'am." The sensors officer reported.

"Show me." Grim ordered. Before her command chair, a hologram emerged of live drone footage of Fisher weaving through cover as a trio of robots pursued him and fired lasers, "Tactical, are we in weapons range?"

"Missiles are armed, but we risk blue on blue." Tactical responded.

"Goddamnit. How long until we can use the lasers?" Grim gritted her teeth.

"Less than two minutes."

"Get a lock on those hostiles and open fire when you have line of sight on them," Grim switched her attention, "Comms, give me a line on Fisher."

Comms simply nodded, "Channel open."

"Price-One, Reaper-Actual, over." She transmitted to Fisher.

"Price-One, little busy -Actual." Fisher's voice was strained as he was observed behind cover as laser bursts carved into his previous position.

"Less than two minutes to exfil, Price-One. Hostiles locked. Ascend on the mark, over." She nodded to comms to send the prearranged timer.

"Roger, -Actual." Fisher changed cover once more as he threw a grenade. The skirmish continued as Grim watched the altimeter descend. Fisher's last assault confused the hostiles and gave him just enough time to reposition to a launch point. The timer counted down the seconds, "In position, Reaper, over."

"Reaper copies. Ascend on the mark, over. We'll cover your exfil."

"Roger, out." Comms went silent.

"We're in range, ma'am." Tactical reported.

"Fire after Fisher's airborne." Grim ordered.

Sam was in trouble. He managed to evade the robots for this long, but his time was up. He wanted to recover them for analysis, but there was no way for him to subdue the metal monsters with the equipment he brought. He had one more high explosive grenade and a multispectral smoke grenade. The decisions raced through his mind as the timer to ascend drew to zero. The HE did some damage and threw off their targeting enough to allow him reposition, maybe it would give him the time he needed to get off the roof? Then again, the smoke would really screw with the sensors, but that cut both ways. Grim said they had him covered, probably waiting for him to clear the roof. He could radio again to confirm, but he risked that enough as is with his brief chat a minute earlier. Whatever sensors those robots had could certainly zero in on his transmission location being so close.

The timer went off. Time to go. He threw his last high explosive grenade at the robots and leapt off the roof. A moment later, the jump jets in his suit activated and carried him to the Baliset above.

The robots below, briefly disoriented by the explosive assault, readjusted their targeting, and locked on to Fisher's weak infrared signature. A millisecond before they were ready to fire, beams pierced the sky and sliced into the unfeeling automatons. Vehicle class lasers made short work of the machines, leaving little more than piles of useless metal on the ferrocrete roof. Fisher glanced behind him and let out a small sigh of relief.

Adept Samuel Leng watched from a disguised ComStar vehicle as laser fire appeared from the sky and struck the roof. Someone else was on premises, and this was the first sign of an incursion not of their own. ROM agents were already scurrying about the Administrative Center. Precentor Emilio Rachan wanted something, anything to put John Deere on the defensive on Helm. Leng was ordered to comb through the Administrative Center, search for relevant files on John Deere, and execute a false flag attack pinned on the agritech company. Another wetwork team beat him here, clearly escaping via the roof. Though unexpected, this had no bearing on his mission. He made a note as ROM agents did their duty.

The ground rumbled. He was jolted from his seat from what felt like a small earthquake. He recovered and looked at his camera feeds. The Helmsdown Administrative Center burned with incredible ferocity as a series of explosions ripped through the central building. He and his command Level I unit were spurred into frantic action.

"One-Six, Six, report, over!" he called over the radio.

Audible coughing preceded the reply, "This is One-Six. One-Six Actual is down. We got people scattered to Terra and back. We need CASEVAC for at least half the unit, over!"

Leng nodded to his comms officer to get the second infantry unit mobilized for casualty evacuation. "On the way, One-Six. Did you find hostiles, over?"

"Negative, Six. Just got ripped to shreds by Blake-damned explo—"

Another series of explosions interrupted the transmission. Leng checked the feed again. The Administrative Center was still standing, even the fires died down a bit thanks to the latest pressure waves but left the outside world as quiet as a tomb.

"One-Six, report, over." Leng tentatively called over the radio. Silence was the response, "One-Six, respond!" He turned away from his transmitter and looked at his XO, "Is One-Six up?"

They shook their head solemnly, "Vitals are gone, Adept. Blake has welcomed them back into his embrace."

Leng clenched his fists as his sensors officer piped in, "Sir, we have local authorities coming. They're fifteen minutes away."

"How far away are Alpha-Two?" Leng asked.

"Five minutes until they reach the building." Sensors reported.

"We don't have enough time…" He muttered to himself, "Issue the withdrawal order."

"Adept, Alpha-One are still in the building." His XO protested, "We need to recover—"

"We don't have time." Leng stated with finality, "It will be a much worse if we stay."

His command unit bowed their heads in unison, "As you say, Adept."

Meeting Room, Freeport-One

11 February 866 AS/2011/3026

"Was this supposed to be such a bloodbath!?" Bashar Maria Theresa Habsburg exclaimed as she reviewed the AAR of Fisher's operation and the first news reports broke of an apparent attack on the Helmsdown Administrative Center, "Fisher, you stated you had planned this op to avoid collateral damage." She rubbed her temples, "There are thirty bodies on the scene, and more likely than not SAFE is crawling all over the place."

Fisher shrugged, "Not my fault that some unknowns decided to enter the AO."

"Those unknowns were at fault for the bodies, Bashar, not us." Grímsdóttir emphasized, "The two local security officers were not only alive but completely unharmed as Sam completed the mission."

Habsburg sighed, "I know. The AAR and the mission recordings made that very clear." She glanced at the live news feed, "Do we know who these people are?"

"Preliminary reports from sources in the morgue are inconclusive." Grim brought up the report in the center of the table, "The most notable details are the lack of handprints and extensive dental surgery. The medical technology for these procedures appears quite sophisticated, as the hands have had their unique surfaces randomized with care and the teeth are custom designed to be completely uniform. They lack the usual identifying features associated with human teeth. Some of the teeth were damaged in the hotter areas of the AO, but that is to be expected."

Habsburg stroked her chin, "Hmm… A black bag team. Any theories on who?" she asked the duo.

"I think there's only one real op here." Sam leaned back in his chair, "We've already fought them when they attempted to infil the factory." Sam smiled, "I can't wait to see Rachan's face when SAFE finds what we left for them."

"He's right." Grim conceded, "Even if it's not ComStar, it will be difficult to explain the mountain of evidence we left behind to frame this as a ComStar attack."

"If it is ComStar, they played themselves." Habsburg began, "Well, this did seem to work to our advantage." She raised her head, "We'll proceed with John Deere aiding in repair and recovery. I gather you've already begun the processes?"

Grim nodded, "President Jackson has already sent the missive to the Landholder. We should soon receive a reply."

Office of the Precentor, HPG Station

Helm

Helm System, Free Worlds League Space

14 February 3026

Saint Valentine's Day was not one of romance for Precentor Emilio Rachan. Representatives from the Landholder had visited him personally the day before and asked him if ComStar was involved in the attack on the Administrative Center. He emphatically denied the accusation, but they presented evidence of ComGuard presence. He assured them that he would investigate such a claim, but he knew that he had been played. He rapped his fingers on his desk. How could this have happened? All Leng was trying to do was obtain information from the Administrative Center on John Deere's activities. Their last infiltration attempt was emphatically rebuffed, and security was severely tightened as a result.

He read through the tablet on his desk. How did it all go so wrong? Leng conducted extensive reconnaissance on the site, ROM agents secured a sound route, and the security was eliminated with efficiency and haste. Yet, someone beat them there. Rachan viewed the data from an apparent fight on the roof. Footage was scant, but it clearly showed laser fire and an armor suited figure launching off as opposing lasers rained from the heavens. To Rachan his suspicions were confirmed. Terra had recently confirmed that the vehicles they encountered in their failed raid on the John Deere facility were used extensively by the ISA on Antallos in their ongoing military campaign to pacify the planet. With this incident and the loss of a ROM Level I unit, he had decided. It was time to go on the offensive.

ROM had already provided a preliminary analysis of John Deere and the known players in the company. At the top was David Jackson, President of Agriculture and Turf of the Free Worlds League. This implied that John Deere as a whole had a president for each of the Successor States and perhaps even in the Periphery. Below him was Sam Fisher. Analysts pegged him as a professional, a man with military experience probably in charge of John Deere's security. He was last spotted during the AgriTech Convention on Solaris VII. ROM lacked specific information about either man, but their ever-expanding presence on the agritech market and the skirmishes between themselves and John Deere put them as persons of interest to ROM. Unfortunately, He had no idea of the security forces on station, only the fact that they had at least two armored companies on station. No information on command structure, rank, who their field commanders are, nothing. ROM would have to redouble their efforts and learn more.

On the top of the list of individuals ROM pinned as potential allies in dislodging John Deere's presence was Lord Garth Marik, Duke of Irian and thrice-removed cousin of Janos Marik. He was a power-hungry opportunist who craved the Captain-Generalcy for himself. Rachan could leverage that. With the financial support of Terra he could purchase 'mechs from Irian and across the Sphere that could arm the man. He was sure that Terra would authorize the release of some special assets for such an offer.

He rang his secretary, "Adept, please send the marked messages to Terra and Irian."

"As you will, Precentor." The secretary replied.

It was the time to gather his resources and strike. He would summon his forces and ready them.

For Blake.

Madeira Archives

Guldra IV

Guldra System, Aurigan Directorate Space

26 April 866 AS/2011/3026

A team of black bag operators worked quickly and efficiently in the heart of House Madeira's most secure facility. They had security credentials from Lord Madeira, permits from the head of Perennial Diversified, and unfettered access to the archives thanks to their disguised insertion. Lord Madeira had insisted on infiltrating his home alone, but High Lady Arano and the commanders of the BLB and the Mentor's Ghosts talked him down. In his place, they were sent: The Black Lotus Battalion's Revenants. The infamous undying remnants of Liberty's First Special Operations, 1st Company, the Revenants were Cerun's scalpel for embedding dilemmas or expelling especially troublesome threats. They were bolstered by new ISA personnel during their RnR on Cradle, specifically Inner Sphere-capable technicians. Their expertise came into their own here.

In the dead quiet of the night, they downloaded everything that the archives held. The fifteen-operator expanded squad did their duties as the night continued. The comms sergeants kept a close ear on a possible response team from the Directorate barracks a kilometer away. The technicians kept an eye on their equipment as the rest of the team scoured the grounds for additional intelligence. They had ample time, so they were meticulous in their combing of the archives. The primary objective was obtaining information that linked the Directorate to the Perdition Massacre in the Taurian Concordat. The war was turning in favor of the Restoration, but it was projected to end much earlier if the Taurians pulled their support.

There was a noise at the end of the hall. The squad silently rose to action. Silenced Kindjals were raised at the noise as the Commander leading the mission quietly issued orders. The techs crept away from their equipment and took overwatch positions. Comms sergeants carefully monitored the frequencies of the Directorate for any sign of life. What they saw alarmed them.

"Commander," Sergeant MacClellan whispered over comms, "Directorate barracks mobilized. Elements approaching the building."

"Copy." Commander Rasheed Delcroix punched in a series of commands on his omni-tool, "Sneaky, document status."

"Database is downloaded." Lieutenant JG Sophie 'Sneaky' Ryan responded under her breath, "Paper docs, we're not gonna scan them here."

"Right." Delcroix motioned to the rest of their squad. Quietly, efficiently, they began their exfiltration. In predetermined and well-rehearsed routes, they executed their roles. The engineers checked the proximity fuses of their explosives as the team withdrew. The comms sergeants kept an ear and eye on the security feeds and Directorate channels. Weapons specialists kept the team under the cover of their HK LG-1s as the squad leapfrogged away from the main hallway. The soldiers in front of them shifted their positions behind, and just as the last cleared their field of fire they heard explosions beyond the hall. Delcroix tapped their shoulders, took cover, and leveled his Kindjal. This was going to be tight.

The door at the far end burst open as Directorate infantry breeched the Archives. Accurate, steady fire greeted them as Delcroix and six of his Revenants covered the bounding element. Bullets impacted all around, but the rushed response from the enemy landed no effective fire upon them. Their point men were slaughtered, killed unceremoniously as the Revenants poured round after round downrange. What remained of the doors were shredded apart as more enemy forces were fed into the Revenant meatgrinder. The forward element got the signal to bound back. On cue, they launched a volley of grenades to give themselves the seconds they needed to retreat behind their comrades. They were meters away from their exit.

"More contacts!" MacClellan announced over comms, "They're closing on our exit!" They rushed to the rear with two others to secure the squad's retreat. Despite their fire superiority, the Directorate was slowly creeping forward. In singles and pairs, security forces found what little cover they could and fought with ferocity. More and more the enemy laid into the Revenants, some using the bodies of their comrades as cover to avenge them.

"FUCK!" Ryan screamed as she doubled over. Her armor was breached, a bullet lodged itself in her lower abdomen. One of the medics rushed to her side as the rest of the squad retaliated in kind. The medic plunged a syringe into the fresh gap in Ryan's suit and dragged her to the rear. She gripped her weapon and steadied her aim as the medi-gel ran through her system. She took a breath and pressed the trigger. Two more Directorate soldiers met their end by her Kindjal.

"You good to get to the exfil?" The medic asked her as they laid down fire.

She coughed, "Yeah."

They tapped her on the shoulder, "Go. I got you covered." The medic continued to stack Directorate forces on the express lane to the deity of their choice.

Ryan scrambled for the rear as the din of battle rang around her. The LG-1 gunners had set up their position and waited for the last Revenant to clear their line of fire. Ryan made her way behind them and witnessed the devastating firepower of Inner Sphere infantry technology combined with some of the refinements Earth brought to the table. Bursts of violet and ultraviolet light cut into the enemy. Chests burst with blood and were instantly cauterized. Limbs filled the hall, cut freshly off the bodies of the poor souls unlucky enough to be downrange of the heavy weapons duo. The Revenants were mere meters from their extract point. The LGs kept their fire consistent to dissuade the enemy from approaching any further.

Delcroix waited at the doorway to ensure an accurate headcount for their escape. He fired a few rounds at approaching Directorate soldiers that appeared in his vision. One after another, Revenants arrived and loaded into the waiting hold of a heavily modified Inner Sphere Heavy Hover APC. His heavy gunners were the last through the door as the roof-mounted turret swung around to face the rear. The forty-millimeter autocannon began to bark and sent a stream of high explosive incendiary rounds at the approaching enemy.

"Get us the hell outta here!" Delcroix yelled at the driver as the ramp rose.

They needed little prompting. The whine of the engine filled the compartment as the powerful machine sped off into the wilderness. The timing was near perfect, as the Directorate had just managed to rally their own armored force to crest the hill. Before they could get a bearing, the APC popped multispectral smoke and disappeared into the night.

War Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

Guldra IV Nadir Point

3 May 866 AS/2011/3026

"Cerun, have you gotten that archive cracked open?" Lady Arano asked of the man standing next to her, "I want to know what's inside."

"Of course, Lady Arano." Cerun replied with his trademark confidence, "We've collated all the information, parsed through, and sent the relevant data to the appropriate departments. There were multiple holo-recordings, but I think this one is of particular interest."

"I recognize the coding on that file…" Lord Madeira stroked his chin, "Your father authorized our archivists to install a holo-recording system in Arano Palace before his death. He meant it to preserve an ongoing record of important diplomatic events. The system must still be active…"

"Your family had access to it?" Arano asked Madeira.

"Of course, my Lady. How could we not?"

Scarman leaned in across the table, "Color me curious. Let's see what kind of blackmail your folks managed to dig up."

Cerun nodded. On the table emerged the images of Director Santiago Espinosa and his daughter, Victoria. Arano's uncle was the first to speak.

"…I understand your hesitancy, daughter. It's a difficult thing, what I'm asking you to do." The Director sat down, "But this galaxy is a hard and uncaring place. If our Directorate is to thrive, we must be even harder."

Victoria appeared disturbed, "I have no qualms about killing for the greater glory of the Directorate, father, but this…" She wheeled about an unseen obstacle, "Please…help me understand. Show me the wisdom in carrying out this attack because I cannot see it myself."

The elder Espinosa laced his fingers together, "Broaden your perspective, Victoria. Think beyond the Reach, beyond the Periphery." He gestured around him, "Our Directorate is growing stronger, but we stand amongst giants. To the Successor States, we are nothing. A tin-pot dictatorship in a galactic backwater, to be ignored or crushed as they please. If we are to survive in the long term, we need a strong ally… but we have nothing to offer in return. We cannot change our circumstances: The Reach is comparatively small and poor, and that is how it will remain. What we can do is shift the political balance of the Periphery. By engineering conflict, we can give ourselves value as a buffer state and an ally of convenience."

Victoria stared at her father, "And by doing… this… to Perdition, you'll create the conflict you seek."

The Director nodded, "Yes. Your target is a port city that serves as the primary supplier of Perdition's aerospace bases. A chemical strike there will look like a back door attempt to undermine Calderon's military readiness. He'll assume that the method of attack was chosen for the purpose of plausible deniability. When he points his finger at House Davion in response, I will quietly approach him with an offer of support."

Victoria shook her head, "And if this embroils us in a war with the Federated Suns?"

Santiago raised a hand, "It won't. Calderon will not strike without proof, and despite his fears to the contrary the Periphery is beneath House Davion's notice especially with recent developments on Antallos. We'll be the Concordat's silent partners in a cold war that never goes hot, and the Reach will grow stronger than it ever could on its own."

"And if our attack fails? If I'm caught?"

"Then our Directorate will perish, and us alongside it." Santiago took a breath, "Inaction isn't an option, Victoria. An alliance built on a lie is better than no alliance at all, and our Directorate cannot survive indefinitely in a vacuum. I cannot trust a task this sensitive to any mercenary. It has to be someone who truly loves the Reach and who understands the price of failure." He stood and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder, "I don't enjoy ordering you to do this, but I am trying to accomplish in five years what House Arano should have done across a span of three lifetimes. To safeguard the Reach on such a short timetable, risks must be taken. Sacrifices have to be made." He stepped back, "Show me that you are the defender of the realm that I know you to be and accept this terrible responsibility. Not for me, but for our people. For the Reach."

She solemnly nodded, "I… understand, father, and I'll do what you ask. For the glory of the Reach."

The recording ended, replaced by static.

Cerun shook his head with a bitter laugh, "Gods, it doesn't matter what else is in the archive. They fucked around with the bull by the horns. We send this to Calderon, Espinosa will find out rather quickly what happens."

Scarman smirked, "You're damn right he will. I can't wait to see the show."

Arano nodded, "I'll be watching it with you. There's a certain poetry in the idea of handing my uncle and cousin to Protector Calderon. Alex, mark the evidence with my personal seal and send it to the Protector. When they respond, we'll find out exactly what he intends to do."

"Of course, my Lady." Madeira agreed.

"Our next step is clear. We move on Tyrlon, the seat of House Parata. Colonel?"

Colonel Andris stepped forward, "The last vestiges of the Directorate's DropShip fleet are moored there. We take the system, there's nothing stopping us from bringing down the hammer on Coromodir."

"We'll have my uncle by the throat…" Arano noted.

"Correct, my Lady." Andris confirmed, "Intel indicates they're well entrenched and have multiple gun batteries guarding the site. They'll have preselected zones for fire missions and most likely have dedicated recon assets to call them in. While this attack will be a surprise for sure, we're going to need those guns offline in order to land with significant numbers. Even our shields won't hold against guns that big. General, Commander, that's where you come in. The Ghost's Wyvern and Leopard are small enough to evade the guns and insert an assault force with the Dragon providing heavy covering fire while leveling the shipyard's power facilities. The BLB's Dragon and aerospace fighters can also hit the power facilities and provide additional fire on demand on any Directorate force still standing. When power is confirmed down, the Ghost's Gram and the BLB's entire ground force can land with the rest of our forces to seize the shipyard and hopefully some of the Directorate's DropShips. We have enough right now, but it never hurts to have a few more just in case."

"I'll land a whole company on their ass, don't you worry." Scarman cracked his neck, "I just hope whatever artillery they're fielding isn't too accurate."

"Don't sweat it." Cerun waved his hand, "They won't be able to fire a volley with us in the skies."

"Lord Parata has already reached out to us and pledged his aid if we liberate Tyrlon." Madeira interjected, "With their foodstuffs, we won't have to worry about feeding our army for the rest of the war."

"What swayed him?" Arano asked, "I thought he pledged his loyalty to my uncle?"

"He told me that he was put in a position to either bend the knee or be replaced. He said he never really believed in what your uncle was doing." Madeira responded.

"Tell him to keep his head down until we arrive." Arano ordered, "We can't afford to lose him, not now."

"As you command." He nodded.

"If there's nothing else, I recommend we get this show on the road." Cerun urged, "It's time we wrapped this up."

Bridge, ISV Artemis

High Tyrlon VI Orbit

Tyrlon System, Aurigan Directorate Space

21 May 866 AS/2011/3026

"Got bad news, sir." Fleet Captain Valder reported as Cerun arrived on the bridge, "The 21st Rim Worlds is here in force."

"Give me numbers, Valder." Cerun ordered as they arrived at the holo-table.

"All of 'em. You got fighters, 'mechs, armor, infantry, the whole nine." Valder stated as the table lit up with a map of the area of operations, "A whole battalion is garrisoned on the power stations, and they've got great positions. Another battalion is stationed at the shipyard, and they're keeping yet another in reserve. Gonna guess they've got at least a couple QRFs in their reserves to deal with trouble."

Cerun whistled, "Of course. We're spinning up the entirety of our aerospace squadron for this. Gotta keep the skies clear. AA?"

"The Dragons can deal with that, no problem. They won't get within ten clicks of the AO, but the 21st has fighters and they know how to use 'em."

"BVR is the name of the game here. We keep them at arm's length and they can't touch us."

"With their numbers and the skill we've seen of their pilots, I think they'll be able to punch through." Valder smirked, "Can you still handle yourself in a furball, old man?"

"Fuck off, Will." Cerun let out a laugh, "I could outfly anyone in my old Liberator. In the Fedykin? No one stands a chance." He zoomed in on one of the shipyard's defense batteries, "Will the Dragons have to worry about taking fire from these things?"

"No, fortunately. They're too nimble for their targeting computers, and ECM will limit their effectiveness. We can't really harm them, save an orbital bombardment, but it serves the Restoration better if we can capture them intact. That was in Andris' initial battleplan."

"Do we have other recon assets besides our drones? I note that the Revenants are still on board."

"Yes, sir. Colonel Andris deployed a force called Rampart Company. They've been on world for the past couple months, gathering intel and coordinating with our own intelligence apparatus to build a complete picture of the battlefield. Current plan is they'll link up with Scarman and his company when they land so the numbers game is a bit more level."

"What kind of equipment are they fielding?"

"Upgraded Inner Sphere 'mechs and vehicles. There are amusing stories out of the Directorate of 'phantoms in the night' and 'invincible lances.' I think their techs have been able to refit Inner Sphere gear with tech from us. We gotta ask them about that."

"Agreed. If their methods are replicable, maybe we could have a reliable refit plan for any piece of IS equipment."

Valder shrugged, "We already do it with their lasers. If we can strap a shield generator and proper fire control system in one of these ancient designs, both the Restoration and the ISA will be better for it."

Cerun stroked his chin, "We'll have Commander Davion talk with Rampart Company's techs after this is over. How's everything going on Scarman's end?"

Valder chuckled, "He didn't exactly take the intel report well from what Oliveira tells me."

Bridge, DropShip Ghost of Coromodir

"Fuckin' hell." Scarman sighed as he reviewed the area of operations, "A battalion of these guys, contested airspace, and possible QRFs? Goddamn nightmare."

"We have the best aerospace pilots this side of the Inner Sphere in the most capable fighters I've ever seen, not to mention two Dragons." XO Darius Oliveira countered.

"The numbers game still doesn't favor us, Darius." Scarman stared at the holo-map, "Even with Rampart Company, we'll be hard pressed to overcome their positions."

"I don't think so, Commander." Oliveira pointed to the power generation stations, "They're clustered around the plants with a company patrolling around."

"The overall plan, run it by me again."

Oliveira took a breath, "The Dragons and BLB's fighters will open the engagement with long range fire. After targets are confirmed destroyed, you deploy and link up with Rampart Company's First Lance. Last report they've got a Thunderbolt, Shadow Hawk, Griffin, and a Catapult. The rest of the company will join you from their FOB in the mountains. Don't ask me how they managed to keep hidden under the noses of one of the best mercenary commands House Davion employs, but I have a feeling that has something to do with the tech the Restoration's received. Anyways, you and Rampart will proceed to clean up the generator sites and hold down as much of the 21st as possible. You're gonna have to prioritize their artillery spotters. Even though the shipyard batteries will be offline, the 21st has at least a few batteries of Long Toms and Snipers on call. They won't be able to rely on air support, which is good. According to intel, the spotters are in Spiders with functional TAG systems. They'll rely primarily on the presighted target areas, which we have a good idea on, but if one of them manages to get a solid TAG lock on you, you better break contact fast and far. You've seen what our arty does, and theirs is just as destructive. Thankfully, they don't have Davy Crockett rounds, at least from what we've seen."

Scarman snorted, "You're saying that like people actually carry that kind of ordinance. Nukes? Come on."

Oliveira remained serious, "Do you really wanna fuck around and find out? The stories of the First and Second Succession Wars resulted in the tech swamp we're in now, and relatively speaking nuclear artillery is ancient tech that was discovered well before we got in space. Just because the Successor States abide by the Ares Conventions for now doesn't mean that some of those weapons aren't unaccounted for."

Scarman raised his hands, "Alright, geeze. I get it. How long do we hold down the line for?"

"Until the main Restoration forces relieve you or until the 21st surrenders." Oliveira zoomed in on a few points on the map, "We can land the Coromodir once the batteries are offline and provide additional artillery support, but we'll be focused on counterbattery fire. We may have shields and more DropShip armor than anything in the rest of the 'Sphere, but batteries of Long Toms and Snipers will still do a bit more than scratch the paint. Sumire will also coordinate our Leopard and Wyvern for repair and refit as the battle continues. We may have to relocate the Coromodir a few times to make sure we don't get zeroed to quickly, but I'm sure you don't want to eat the repair cost of batteries of artillery tearing into the hull."

Scarman nodded, "Yeah, no." He looked over the map, "I think we make use of the terrain here, get the MacArthurs into position to make good use of their rail guns…"

On approach Tyrlon Shipyard Power Station

Tyrlon VI

28 May 866 AS/2011/3026

Sumire checked her approach vector as the Mentor's Blade entered the atmosphere. She was the herald of the operation, the first in to see just how accurate the shipyard's guns were. On cue, she felt the ship buffet as the first rounds exploded around the DropShip.

"How're we holding up?" she asked as she adjusted their heading.

"Shields holding at ninety-five percent." The engineering officer reported, "First rounds were pretty far off target."

"I'll get 'er down with plenty of shield." Sumire entered her grim determination mode, "Tactical, prepare multi-spectral flares and fire if they get too close and prepare a firing solution for the power facilities when we're in range. I want rubble as soon as we're in range. Sensors, you have targets on scope?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." Sensors responded.

"Alright, people. Hang on and let's start slinging lead on target." She ensured her angle of attack wasn't too steep and waited the agonizing minutes as they cleared the outer atmosphere. All around them, the edge of the sky filled with bursts of flak. Shells filled with tons of explosives exploded all around them but as predicted the gunners on the ground couldn't get their firing solutions right. She glanced at the engineering officer. They simply gave her a thumbs up. She checked the altimeter and checked the external cameras. The exterior was showing signs of waning reentry. Just a little longer…

"Cat's Eye-One, Aster-One." Cerun called over comms from the seat of his Fedaykin, "Picture, over."

"Aster-One, I have bandits bearing two-seven-zero at three hundred clicks low. Group of them, over." Responded the sensors officer of the BLB's Dragon-class Carbuncle.

"Roger, -One. Confirm group, moving to engage, out." He switched channels, "Aster-One to all Aster squadron, begin CAP. Clear the way for Cat's Eye and Phantom. Out."

He pushed the throttle of his fighter and broke into the atmosphere, easily slicing through the edge of the void into the drag of proper air. He checked his sensor picture as the squadron drew closer to the enemy. As more drones and the Dragons entered the atmosphere, the area of operations grew clearer. What was an indeterminate blob of unknown fighters sharpened into clarity. He blinked as he confirmed the numbers. Thirty-six fighters of various makes and models from around the Inner Sphere. In his own squadron: twelve Fedaykins, four Su-60s, four Lightning IIIs, and four MiG-50s. The Earth-produced fighters were given to Rosse's aerospace pilots, and they had felt rather bored having conceded all the fighter duties to Cerun and his half of the BLB. Now, they were let loose having logged hundreds of simulated hours on the crafts.

Minutes later they were within two hundred kilometers of their enemy.

"Aster-One, fox-three, fox-three!" He announced over comms. He heard a chorus of missile launches from the rest of the squadron. This was at the far end of the Tiger Shark's range, but they needed to break up the cohesion of the enemy. Cerun watched the sensors closely to see if any missiles scored a kill. In a testament to the skill of their opponent, they broke and began to defend. They learned from their previous encounter with him. A wave of LRMs launched out to meet the missiles in the air. Cerun was confused. The effective range of Inner Sphere missiles was well outside of the range of his own missiles. Why did they launch them so early? He found out why. When their rocket motors burned out, they exploded and released a wall of flares. These were multi-spectral flares and threw up a huge number of new contacts on sensors. It was more than enough to divert almost all of Aster's Tiger Shark missiles into the flare cloud and explode harmlessly kilometers away from the 21st's fighters. The few remaining missiles were defeated by expert maneuvering by those who were locked on. Cerun smirked to himself. He knew this would be one hell of a fight. He checked the range to targets. Fifty kilometers. Another volley was in order.

"Aster-One, fox-three, fox-three!" In near unison, Aster squadron unleashed another volley of Tiger Sharks to take a bite out of the 21st Rim Worlds. The range closer and the sensor picture clearer, it was much more difficult to defeat the missiles the same way. Cerun hit the afterburners and closed on the nearest cluster of contacts, a flight of four fighters, "Aster-Two, Aster-One, on me! Squadron, pick your targets and try not to overkill 'em, out." He thumbed the stick twice and announced another pair of Tiger Shark launches. The 21st's pilots were forced into another bout of defensive maneuvers and LRM launches to confuse and defeat the missiles in flight. That wasn't going to work this time. The missiles had more energy, and the enemy had to contend with the fact that Aster was much closer than before. Some of the missiles fell for the flares, exploding harmlessly in the sky. There were still over forty chasing the bandits about. Those who were lucky enough to be free of a missile hit their own afterburners to merge with Aster. Cerun counted six Inner Sphere fighters closing the distance. He checked his missiles. Two more ready to fire with only one more pair in reserve before he had to rely on his fabricator to supply his ammunition. No time like the present to show off why you don't try to ascend head-on in a dogfight. He fired another pair of missiles at two of the bandits, now far too committed and close to have a shadow of a hope of evasion. His flight followed suit, with six more missiles in the air. The six bandits now faced eight Tiger Shark missiles within ten kilometers.

Cerun remembered something in combat training with Serov when the former mercenary shot him down head on, When you've got a missile locked onto you going mach fuck that close, it's kinda hard to dodge. The Tiger Sharks took that memory and brought it kicking to the present. He watched as LRMs tried to distract the Tiger Sharks as they closed the distance. A couple of the missiles were fooled, the LRM flares detonated before they crossed the kilometer threshold. The remaining six smelled blood in the skies and were hungry for a meal. The two lead Rim World's pilots in a Lucifer and Shilone took the Tiger Shark's head on. The Lucifer's wing was blown clean off and prompted the pilot to eject. The Shilone was not so lucky as the last thing that pilot saw was a Tiger Shark headed to their cockpit. The flanking pair of Rim World's fighters, in a rare Zero and modified Sholagar, broke from the head-on attempt and attempted to defeat the missiles headed toward them. The Zero tried to notch the missile locked onto them, hoping to lose lock and make it a 'miss'ile. The Zero lived up to the name of its ancient legacy and barely evaded a Tiger Shark. The pilot watched as the missile streaked past, meters away from their fighter. The Sholagar, they lost their battle as the missile that tracked them punched straight into center of the fuselage and detonated the fuel within. In an impressive fireball, the craft disappeared. A Rogue, meant primarily to help shield its comrades with its twin LRM-15s had no hope of evading a Tiger Shark. With the missile so close and no hope, the pilot made the intelligent decision to eject prematurely. They grabbed the ejection handle and pulled hard. The canopy flung itself clear and the lucky soul rocketed upward. They glanced down and watched as a couple hundred meters away their Rogue was vaporized. A Gadfly, already at the edge of their fuel, swung their obscenely light fighter around and barely defeated the missile locked on to it with a risky high-G turn. It passed even closer than their comrade in the Zero. They swore that they could read the serial numbers on the missile as it passed them. The last fighter, a Gotha that had seen better days, strained to evade their missile. They fired their LRMs at the closing contact, but the dual LRM-15s struggled to engage the hypersonic weapon. One lucky LRM detonation managed to shred the contact and caused it to explode uselessly in the sky. That was only the beginning of their problems as they now found themselves alone against a swarm of invisible fighters that descended upon them.

Scarman felt the buffeting of the shipyard's cannons through his 'mech as his company's Leopard Ghost of Montgomery closed on their drop site. The BLB did their job and cleared a path for them to land and for the Dragons to do achieve their objective. He watched the live sensor readout as the Mentor's Blade and the Carbuncle descended into their orbits ten kilometers away from the area of operations. He watched the sensor net as the Dragon GunShips began their bombardment. He watched as the buildings were smashed with artillery and rail guns. Ferrocrete cracked, steel snapped, lives snuffed from existence as each facility was leveled methodically by Sumire and Colonel Eva Khatib in their Dragons. Enemy forces at those locations were summarily silenced as they could not escape the ferocity of the Dragon's breath. He chuckled to himself the irony of such a thing. Scarman was certain that the Combine would have an absolute fit if they found out the name of the GunShips provided to them. When all the generator sites fell, the shipyard's guns fell silent. The flak bursts around the Montgomery waned into nothing as they completed their descent.

"Ghost-One-One to all lances," Scarman announced over comms, "prepare to drop, over."

"Ghost-Two-One copies."

"Phantom-One-One copies."

"Phantom-Two-One copies."

"Alright, everyone. You know your jobs. Let's do this. Ghost-One-One out." Scarman ended the transmission as the ramp doors dropped. With haste, he led his lance onto the battlefield. His Konev cleared the ramp into the temperate climate of Tyrlon's mountains. He scanned the terrain for enemies. None were within five kilometers of his landing zone. He checked the sensor network, everything was operational. Satisfied, he proceeded to the first checkpoint on his HUD. He gazed into the distance at the power facilities leveled by the firepower of the Ghosts and the BLB. He directed his lance onward as the rest of his company followed their own waypoints towards their objectives. It was an eerie quiet, no movement except their own, contacts kilometers away, just the smoke of distant fire to interrupt the serenity of the countryside. Scarman took the opportunity to review the battleplan. They had a waypoint just over a kilometer ahead where Scarman's lance would link up with Rampart Company's HQ lance. Rampart Company had declined to contact them via comms, but it made sense. The 21st Rim Worlds were not the Directorate and had a better understanding of how to zero in on long-distance radio transmissions. Their own comms equipment had no issues in this regard, but Rampart were still running standard IS comms gear and if they attempted to contact the Ghosts, they would be zeroed very quickly.

He watched the sensors as he advanced and new blue blips appeared within two kilometers. He switched comms frequencies to a prearranged address, "Bulwark-One-One, Ghost-One-One. Hidden, over."

"Ghost-One-One, Blade, over." Came the response. Out of the tree line ahead of him emerged a lance of Rampart Company's finest. A Catapult C-1, Awesome 8Q, Shadowhawk 2H, and Griffin 1S appeared around Scarman's lance.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed." Scarman had a smile on his face, "Our sensors are good. How the hell did you spoof 'em, over?"

"I'll let you know after this is all over, Ghost-One-One." Captain Octavio 'Sumo' Zhou responded with a grin of his own, "We'll lead the way to the next waypoint, over." Zhou swung his Awesome around and kept his word.

Scarman took the opportunity to examine the 'mechs of this Rampart lance. The Awesome a hundred meters in front replaced the PPCs with the same particle cannons his Konev had, heavier armor, and an ECM module he had only seen on imported 'mechs. The Catapult still had the LRM-15s but had heavily modified them. From what his scanners told him, they were capable of triple volley fire, essentially making them 'LRM-45s.' The fire control RADAR had been upgraded as well, now very capable as a counter battery artillery piece. The lasers were missing, replaced with machine guns. He assumed the space was needed for more ammo. The Shadowhawk replaced the AC5 with a rail gun he was quite familiar with on the Gundams in his own company. The Griffin appeared normal, but he knew there were surprises under the armor.

"Bulwark-One-One, how'd you sneak around the 21st with a whole company?" Scarman asked the Captain, "ECM, sure, but still. Hiding a company of armor and 'mechs against the best formation the Directorate has is a hell of a thing, over."

"Ghost-One-One, they settled into a routine." Zhou explained, "Even the best settle into a routine. We learned their patrol routes, their guard rotations, maintenance schedules, artillery positions, pre-sighted target zones, everything. We moved our HQ multiple times over our deployment here, but they never pinned us down, over."

"Can't've been that easy, over."

That elicited a chuckle from Zhou, "Never is. A few skirmishes here and there, couple close calls. Sure you have your own stories, over."

"A-firm, Bulwark-One-One. Tell you when this is all done, over."

"Hold." Zhou's Awesome stopped, "We're at point bravo. Transmitting IFF to you now, over."

Scarman's sensor picture updated with the live locations of Rampart Company's locations. He saw that each of his own lances had made contact with a Rampart lance and were advancing apace. One of the 21st's QRF was already deployed and attempting to secure what remained of the power generator facilities. Others were scrambling to the shipyard to repulse the Restoration's main thrust. The Restoration and their mercenaries dictated the battlefield, to the detriment of one of the finest mercenary commands in the Inner Sphere. He saw they were close to a 21st lance, within two kilometers. With no forewarning, the Rampart Catapult fired an unbelievable volley of ninety missiles at the lance. He crested a hill to watch the fall of nearly a ton of missiles on target. He zoomed in as the Inner Sphere version of delayed death descended upon the unsuspecting enemy. An unlucky Spider, most likely a spotter for their artillery, felt the brunt of the steel rain. As though stuck in a downpour, there was no escape from the explosive water droplets. One after another, LRMs cracked and cratered the armor of the Spider and the rest of its lance. Almost in slow motion, he watched the Spider disappear as the spicy raindrops engulfed the light 'mech. The rest of the lance was not idle. The heavy 'mech of the force, a Quickdraw, scrambled for cover to spot their opponent. A few errant missiles struck it, but not enough to deter the pilot from their actions. Before they could get their bearings, Rampart's Shadowhawk took off an arm with its rail gun. Scarman was not merely an observer and shifted his focus to the next member of the lance, an unlucky JagerMech that did not anticipate being in an ambush. He pressed the trigger and sent a pair of particle cannon blasts and a rail gun slug downrange. The thin armor of the fire support 'mech was unable to resist the power of his weapons and tore straight into the underlying structure. One of the particle cannon blasts touched one of the bins of ammunition stored in the left torso. In an instant, the once 'mech erupted into a runaway fusion reaction and ended up strewn over hundreds of meters. The last member of the 21st lance, a Jenner, found itself alone in seconds. They took this cue to run in the opposite direction of enemy fire. All this did was expose the vulnerable rear armor to a Gundam and Black Panther of Scarman's lance. In unison, the rail gun and rotary cannon of the two 'mechs reduced the Jenner into a heap of scrap metal. Scarman and Rampart's lances advanced further into the mountains. He was surprised. He read the AARs from Smithon, how Montgomery was only able to kill one Atlas and the sparse losses from Smithon. This lance couldn't be from the 21st. They were too unaware, too disorganized. Something didn't add up.

His suspicions would prove prescient.

"Contact left!" His comms blared, "Range, three hundred!"

With no warning, Scarman's Konev shuddered as enemy fire tore into his shields. What he experienced was nothing compared to Nicolette 'Arclight' McKinney in her Black Panther. Her shields immediately collapsed under the concentration of enemy fire. With her shields stripped away, the thirty-five ton frame of the light 'mech was exposed to a hail of missiles, autocannon rounds, and lasers. Tons of armor were stripped away and the left arm of her 'mech was utterly annihilated by a counter ambush. Rampart wasn't dumb. They kept their Catapult behind to provide fire support and tear their asses out of the fire, skin optional. Ninety missiles rained down around the advance elements of the allied force and erupted into clouds of multispectral smoke. Scarman's cameras automatically switched out of visual spectrum to better navigate the mess he found himself in. Arclight managed to fire her jumpjets and extricate herself from the withering force of the high intensity inferno her 'mech was stuck in. The rest of Rampart and Ghost lances split into two 'mech teams to manouver and crush the counter-ambushers. Zhou moved slowly, his Awesome more than capable of drawing fire so the rest of the force could find the enemy. He fired his trio of particle cannons at the assailants and knocked one immediately out of commission, a Hover Tank. The mobile PPC platform did not have enough armor to resist the blasts. In a wood line three hundred meters away another barrage of autocannon fire struck Zhou's Awesome. He smiled, as their position was broadcast to his allies. On the networked sensors, two more JagerMechs appeared in that tree line. Rampart's Griffin and Shadowhawk rotated their torsos and locked on to the legged gunboats. The Griffin finally revealed what Rampart had done to it. The PPC released a blast equal to Serov's Konev, and the LRM-10 fired a volley of thirty missiles. The Shadowhawk fired its pair of upgraded medium lasers, a volley of its own missiles, and rail gun slug. One of the lightly armored JagerMechs lost its left arm immediately and its pilot punched out. The remaining Jager unleashed a volley of fire against the Griffin. The shields of the medium 'mech held, barely. From a couple hundred meters away, Zhou's Awesome joined the cacophony of fire with another ripple of particle cannon fire tore into the revealed enemy. A leg was torn off and sent the JagerMech tumbling forward into the dirt, rendering it useless. Another copse of trees hid another lance's worth of the 21st's ambush force which fired on the moving Griffin. The Rampart pilot reacted quickly and jumped toward the enemy. The reactive move threw off their targeting solutions, with only a solo AC2 round impacting upon its shields. In a practiced manner they performed a modified highlander maneuver. They fired their full complement of weaponry at the nearest target, an unlucky Assassin caught in their sights. The PPC blew the cockpit clean off and the Griffin landed before the remaining three opponents. An AC2 Carrier panicked and fired its forward-facing cannons before their computer spat out a firing solution. The shots went wild, with only one AC2 round impacting the strained shields of Rampart's Griffin.

"Bulwark-One-Three, break right!" Scarman called over comms. The Griffin pilot jumped and gave him a clear shot at the weapon carrier. He sent a single slug downrange that punched through the armor and into the crew compartment. The crew was incapacitated instantly, left wounded, unconscious, or dead. With no hesitation he shifted targets to the Spider in the trees when he got a dreaded alert on his HUD.

"TAG Lock." His computer stated calmly to him.

"Shit! Bulwark and Ghost lance, shift to cover! Artillery incoming!" Scarman jumped his 'mech toward the felled JagerMech pair to shake off the lock. The HUD indicator flickered as he punched the ECM on his controls as a last-ditch effort to break the lock. Less than thirty seconds later, a hail of shells exploded in the clearing where he once was. Dirt, debris, and metal scarred the battlefield as the 21st demonstrated their own artillery prowess. He was at the edge of the blast zone, his shields peppered with bits of shrapnel and 'mech buffeted by the high explosive shockwaves. He shook off the surprise as shifted his focus back to the Spider. Locked, he was about to press the trigger as he watched it disappear under a Catapult derived explosive rainstorm. The last member of the lance managed to escape under the chaos of the artillery and exchange of fire. A couple damaged 'mechs in exchange for two lances of the 21st's finest. He shook his head.

"Ghost-One-Three, status, over." He called to Arclight.

"I'm fine, -One-One, but my 'mech is in a bad way." She replied, "I can continue forward if needed, over."

"Negative, -One-Three. Rotate back to repair and refit. If you can join us again, great. If not, that's fine. You get your drop bonus either way. One-Four, escort -Three back to the refit point then rejoin us, over."

He heard a soft chuckle, "Roger, -One-One. Rotating back to point alpha. Ghost-One-Three out." Arclight disengaged from the rest of the Rampart/Ghost force and retreated with the other Black Panther as ordered.

"Bulwark-One-One, status, over."

"Ghost-One-One, Bulwark has sustained some damage but is combat capable." Zhou responded, "I recommend following Ghosts-One-Three and -One-Four to refit and resupply before we push forward. Hold." Zhou switched frequencies for a few moments, "Command has confirmed the destruction of the artillery battery that fired on us. Point alpha is secure and our forces have already established a FOB to support our action, over."

"Roger that. Will regroup at point alpha and fully assess our situation before the next push, out."

FOB Point Alpha

"How the hell did they hide from our sensor net?" Scarman asked Zhou in the 'mechbay of the Ghost of Montgomery, "You gotta have some sort of idea."

Zhou took a gulp of his canteen, "If I were them and I wanted to ambush an enemy that can outrange and outgun me, I would set up a series of lances in ambush positions and point them in the general direction of the enemy advance. If I suspected them of having advanced detection capabilities, I'd shut 'em down and turn them on at the absolute last second." He handed the Ghost's commander his canteen.

Scarman took a drink, "Fuckin' clever." He lifted the canteen and examined it. The taste confounded him, "What the hell is this stuff? Sure ain't booze."

"It's in the DropShip's replicator thing." Zhou took it back and took another swig while pointing at the Restoration DropShip across the FOB, "Called Gatorade or something like that. Haven't heard of anything like it in the Magistracy, Reach, or anywhere in the Sphere or Periphery. Good for the whole hydration thing, though."

"I gotta ask, how did you guys rig that Magistracy gear on your 'mechs and how the hell did you do what you did with the LRMs?" Scarman asked as he sat down on a nearby chair.

"Our techs are resourceful as hell." Zhou grinned as he leaned back in his seat, "The LRMs, they tore out the internals and replaced the launch mechanism with one from the missile modules in the spares from the MoC. The weapons, they bolted on with some effort same with the gear. Computers, well, they tore them out and replaced them with spares from our resupply."

"With the blessing of your command?" Scarman cocked an eyebrow.

Zhou laughed, "You know how it is, Scarman. Gotta be an expert in strategically transferring equipment to alternate locations. My soldiers are experts in the art."

Scarman shook his head with a smile, "Well, you gotta have your techs talk to Yang about the mods y'all did. Impressive as hell."

"Will do, Scarman. Will do."

War Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

Tyrlon Shipyard

30 May 866 AS/2011/3026

The battle was decided. Tyrlon Shipyard was now under the control of the Restoration and with it Tyrlon proper. The BLB and Mentor's Ghosts were working with Rampart Company on counter-insurgency operations and cleaning up the last motes of resistance on Tyrlon. The 21st Rim Worlds Regiment managed to withdraw from the world, but not without being mauled on the way out. They fought fiercely to ensure their retreat and, in the process, lost precious soldiers and equipment to the Restoration and their mercenary forces. Directorate forces were not able to affect a proper retreat given their objective to hold the shipyard against them. A small but significant number of Directorate personnel and materiel managed to escape and were harassing Restoration defenders but it was only a matter of time until they were flushed out. Casualties were higher thanks to the 21st Rim Worlds, but they were not an ongoing concern on world. They were driven by profit, not ideology.

High Lady Kamea Arano sat in before the holo-table with her council. Colonel Karen Andris, Lord Alex Madeira, and Master of Arms Raju Montgomery flanked her. Generals Rosse and Cerun sat to her right. Commander Scarman and his XO Darius Oliveira were to her left. She waited with bated breath for the scheduled message today. The holo-table flared to life as the day's messenger appeared before her.

"This is a message for High Lady Kamea Arano of the Aurigan Reach." The sharply dressed woman began, "I am Elena Marisol-Chaplin, personal attaché to Protector Thomas Calderon of the Taurian Concordat. The Taurian Ministry of Intelligence has confirmed the authenticity of the evidence that you sent us. You have our thanks. It would seem that your uncle's duplicity has left its mark on us all." She adjusted her collar before she continued, "Our ambassadors have been in communication with representatives of the Federated Suns, and they are negotiating a de-escalation of force along our shared border. All cooperation between the Taurian Concordat and the Directorate has officially been terminated." Her jaw hardened and voice grew grim, "Director Santiago Espinosa has been recognized as an enemy of the Taurian state. Should he ever dare to leave Aurigan space, he will have us to contend with." Her tone shifted again, "The Protector would like to add that the safe return of Captain Ostergaard and his crew is a welcome olive branch, and we appreciate the gesture. Commodore Ostergaard extends his deepest thanks to you that his son has returned unharmed. With that, our business is concluded. Be well, Lady Arano. Protector Calderon wishes you success in your campaign to come."

The holo-table returned to standby as the message ended.

"That's it." Cerun stated with finality, "The Directorate is done. Their materiel is finished, their resupply cut off. Logistically, they have no legs left."

"Congratulations, Lady Arano." Oliveira nodded to Arano, "With Tyrlon liberated and Taurian support dried up, there's nothing left between us and the throne."

"They still have one card left to play." Colonel Andris interjected, "The remains of the 21st Rim Worlds. They're still a force on the battlefield and we cannot discount that."

"Of course not." Madeira stroked his chin, "Yet, I think we can take them out of play. Allow them an honorable retreat to Davion space under escort. I don't think they can sustain the loss rates they did here. Coromodir will be worse for them, and they know it. They're not fools."

"We can hail them in system and give them our terms." Arano said, "They're on the losing side, and they know it now. Do we know the details of their contract?" She asked Madeira.

"I'll direct our intelligence personnel to comb the archives for that information. If they have a termination clause, we can use that" He replied.

"Good. I must rally the Founding Houses. When we travel to Coromodir, it will be with the Coalition at our back. I want the throne world's skies crowded with our DropShips."

"What of the people there?" Rosse asked, "When the liberation fleet touches down, will we have their support?"

"Yes, we will." Arano leaned forward and laced her fingers, "Every victory we've won has shaken their support of my uncle. The broadcasts from the front, the footage of my people's suffering… His popularity as a leader is shattered. When the time to liberate comes, the majority will side with us. With our fleet filling the skies and our supporters on the streets, my message will be unmistakable. Everywhere my uncle looks he will see the Arano cormorant, the symbol of my House and our unshakable resolve."

"Sounds like a plan." Cerun nodded, "We're ready when you are."

"Good." Arano sat up straight, "'Director Espinosa' will see our strength: the strength of our forces; of our unity; and of the loyalty of our people. He will return the throne, or we will destroy him utterly. Be ready, everyone. It's long past time for us to bring this war to a close."

War Room, ACV Sword of Restoration

High Coromodir Orbit

Coromodir System, Aurigan Directorate Space

4 July 866 AS/2011/3026

A month's work to gather the Founding Houses and integrate their command structures with the main Restoration army. Years of training, equipment replacement/enhancement, everything came down to this. To retake the throne, to restore her rule after having it snatched away by her uncle's actions. This was the endgame.

Arano examined everyone gathered around the table. It was her inner circle, the same people who a month ago discussed how this would all end. She already met with the leaders of the Founding Houses military forces. They were all ready in their respective DropShips awaiting the order to set off and liberate her home. She hoped that this last meeting would spare bloodshed, but she was ready to proceed no matter the consequences.

The holo-table lit up and the figure of Santiago Espinosa appeared before her and her council.

"Kamea." Espinosa greeted, "Welcome home. We haven't spoken face-to-face since your father's funeral. Strange, isn't it? For all the time we've been fighting one another, for all our struggles, we haven't actually talked until now."

Arano was stoic, "I'm not here to talk with you, Uncle. I'm here to demand your surrender."

"Then you'll walk away from this parlay disappointed. Did I teach you nothing, Kamea? The endgame is a time for negotiation, not demands."

"I remember your teachings well enough, Uncle. If our positions were reversed, you would attack me without hesitation or mercy. The Founding Houses have rallied behind me. You are outnumbered, outgunned, cut off from any last vestige of support you have, and you have nowhere left to turn. You possess nothing to negotiate with."

"I possess Coromodir, your people. Your home. Surely that means more to you than nothing."

"My people who now rise against you?" She countered, "My home means a great deal to me, but I understand sacrifice and so do they. They understand what is needed for the good of the Reach. You are defeated. Concede."

He took a breath, "I've heard your proposal, now you hear mine. You will leave this system in my hands and solidify your power base elsewhere. I will rule Coromodir, and I will hold your people to ensure your good behavior. You will agree to these terms, or you will die."

"I will die? Your words are air, Uncle. You have nothing left to threaten me with."

"Are you so sure, my dear niece?" He injected an air of malice in his words.

"I think you're bluffing and I'm willing to wager my life on it. I'll see you on the field of battle."

"Yes." He stated with finality, "I suppose you will." With his final words, the transmission terminated.

"He must know that we can ask the 21st to invoke their termination clause." Madeira observed, "He has something else up his sleeve."

"Damned fool." Montgomery shook his head, "He's lashing out like a cornered animal."

"We're prepared for the worst." Andris nodded, "All forces report they await your command, my Lady."

Arano nodded in response, "Raise them all on comms. I'm ordering the drop as planned. I will lead from the front."

"My Lady, I must advise against that." Andris protested, "If you die, then the Reach—"

"My people must see that I am willing to put myself on the line for them." Arano countered, "We're taking Coromodir, and we're doing it now. Alex, contact the 21st and tell them we can ensure safe passage back to the Federated Suns if they choose to withdraw. Rosse, Cerun, Scarman, be ready for your wave. Once we're on the surface, you're going to be needed. We are going to crush what remains of my uncle's Directorate. We will retake the throne that was stolen from me and come hell or high water we will free the last people under Espinosa's jackboot. I swear it on my father's name."

En Route to Coromodir's surface

Techs performed final checks on 'mechs, vehicles, and aerospace fighters. DropShip cargo was secured in anticipation of the firestorm that awaited them. Crews, pilots, and 'mechwarriors rushed to their stations and strapped themselves in. Final preparations complete, aerospace pilots launched from their vessels and DropShips began their descent. Hidden in the mass of metal above the capital of the Aurigan Coalition was the ISV Artemis. They had performed multiple intelligence passes and deployed the usual series of satellites and drones to survey the battlefield. The landing zones were many kilometers away from the defensive lines of Cordia City. What the Directorate had was a layered defense, with multiple strong points and quick reaction forces. They had artillery batteries ready to engage as soon as they detected Restoration forces. Scouting lances were deployed outside the defensive line to report on enemy movements and respond to small units. Directorate forces had scrounged together a sizable force of assault 'mechs and had them all along the defensive line. Awesomes, Atlases, BattleMasters, the odd Mackie or two, and a singular King Crab were detected by the drone and satellite network. Scores of tanks and combat vehicles were arrayed in forward operating bases ready to meet their foe. Aerospace fighters, no doubt seized from the 21st Rim Worlds after they invoked their termination clause to leave the battlefield, patrolled the skies. No matter how much the main Restoration army outclassed the Directorate, losses were inevitable.

The first elements of the Restoration's forces touched down on the surface with the BLB's pilots overhead. In established BLB fashion, they engaged their Directorate opposites from beyond visual range. Missile contrails streaked overhead as Eva Khatib lead a nova of Su-60s, Lightning IIIs, and MiG-50s into the fight. Under Cerun's tutelage she grew to understand his method of fighting. It was not as honorable as the dogfights in which she was trained, but victory trumped all honor in the Inner Sphere. Given she was leading this, she opted for the unit composition which she was familiar with and blended it with the tactics she learned. Break the enemy's formation, keep them off balance, close only when necessary. Those words rang in her head as she launched another volley of missiles. The Directorate pilots were not nearly as fierce as the Rim Worlds squadron she tangled with on Tyrlon. They did not learn the hard-fought lessons the mercenaries they stole their fighters from had earned. One after another, the last remnants of the aerospace wing of the Directorate burned in the atmosphere of Coromodir not able to see the enemy that bested them.

On the surface, the forces of House Gallas had the honor of being the first ones to set foot on the capital. Their vehicles, 'mechs, and soldiers were equipped with standard Inner Sphere gear augmented by the Restoration's sensor network link. The tight timetable did not allow them to have access to the most advanced technology afforded to those who joined much earlier, like House Decimis and House Karosas. What they brought to the fight were primarily vehicles, tanks, and artillery with a smattering of light and medium 'mechs. Unions, Leopards, and Mules deployed their forces and began their advance. Artillery batteries set themselves up, powerful counter-battery RADARs ready to pinpoint enemy fire missions and destroy their opposites on the field. Mixed lances of vehicles, tanks and 'mechs moved forward to engage the recon lances in their preferred fire and maneuver tactics. Ancient engines of war drove toward Cordia City set on liberation. As they closed the distance, they made contact with scout elements of the Directorate defenders. Brief skirmishes broke out between the respective forces, but the Directorate had opted to disengage before getting bogged down in a decisive fight. Gallas lances proceeded forward, kilometer by kilometer to establish a frontline for the Restoration. At the planned distance, they halted and began to secure observation posts. They saw that Directorate forces had settled in their own OPs, dug in and prepared for an assault. As the Gallas forces spread out, they felt the rumble of artillery fire. They spread out to reduce casualties.

At the moment of first impact, they realized that everything was going pear-shaped. Across the line, the usual explosions and impacts of artillery rounds were punctuated by fireballs only seen in the annals of history. Spheres of sunlight, millions of degrees burned the first OPs House Gallas attempted to secure hundreds of square meters at a time. They realized far too late what the Directorate had done: Davy Crockett ground burst munitions were intermixed with standard high explosive rounds from Directorate Long Tom artillery pieces. One after another, Gallas lances lost at least half of their combat power to half-kiloton yield nuclear devices not seen since the horrors of the Second Succession War. Ground turned to glass, forests burned, and the unlucky infantry that dismounted were reduced to ash. Those who remained were forced to retreat with Directorate scout lances at their heels, thirsty for blood. Their fire was wild, affected by the electromagnetic interference of multiple Davy Crockett initiations.

It was then that Lady Arano realized what horrors her uncle held in reserve.

Bridge, DropShip Ghost of Coromodir

Low Coromodir Orbit

"What did I tell you about fucking around and finding out?" Darius Oliveira stated.

"Fuckin' hell…" Scarman breathed as he watched the battle unfold on the holo table, "When you're right, you're right. We have a protocol for this?"

"Perdition was a wakeup call, Commander. I followed Cerun's lead when he insisted that we have a CBRN unit just in case. Got some modified vehicles for the job, and a platoon ready to hose down." Oliveira confirmed.

The images of Lord Madeira, Lady Arano, Raju Montgomery and Generals Cerun and Rosse appeared around the holo table.

Arano began, "We cannot advance into nuclear hellfire like this. Options."

"We turn the Directorate's artillery batteries into parking lots." Cerun replied, "We deny them of their ability to launch, they can't use the nukes on us."

"Too risky." Madeira countered, "We don't know what his contingency plan is, and we can't be sure we get all of them with air power alone."

"I can't abandon the ground assault." Arano noted, "If we allow my uncle and his forces more time, we may not be able to pry him off of Coromodir without outside help."

"Hot drop with air support." Rosse proposed, "Cerun makes a good point: if we destroy their artillery, they cannot use such infernal weapons on us. However, we need to seize their weapons stockpiles to ensure such weapons cannot be used again, most of all against the people. Director Espinosa demonstrated how he intends to rule if his demands are not met. We must relieve him of this notion."

"We could use that in cooperation with a decapitation strike." Cerun was thoughtful, "Not to kill the bastard, but to capture him. Rampart and the Revenants could do that while we secure the nukes."

Montgomery stroked his chin, "We have to close the distance on the ground. House Gallas was forced to retreat to a makeshift perimeter around their DropShips. What reserves they have are merged with their remnants and are now manning that perimeter. We don't have a choice. We must land the rest of our forces and tie up theirs in close quarters combat."

"Would they be willing to nuke their own army?" Scarman asked.

"Unlikely." Madiera replied, "He knows that these forces are all he has left. Coromodir doesn't have the war manufacturing capacity to build new materiel, not the vehicles and 'mechs necessary to prosecute the war further. DropShips? JumpShips? Forget it."

"The revelation of nuclear weapons steps up our timetable considerably." Arano concluded, "Cerun, Rosse, Scarman, I want your Dragons in the air to demolish those Long Tom batteries. Airstrikes to keep those batteries moving, unable to fire. With that, we can advance and destroy the enemy on the field. Scarman, Raju, I then want you to lead forces to seize the weapons stockpiles once we can identify them. Alex, that's on you. Find out where those weapons are and give the locations to them. Are the shields rated for nuclear weapons?" She asked.

"On the DropShips, yes." Oliveira replied, "Davy Crocketts would need multiple hits to collapse them. The 'mechs?" He sighed, "Specs say they can handle a nuke, but don't specify the yield and distance from detonation. Even with a shield, I won't wanna risk being under a detonation."

Arano took a breath, "That may be a risk I may have to take. I will lead the second wave into the fray and land within Long Tom range once the batteries are silenced. Rosse, you're with me. As Raju said, we have to close the distance so they can't risk nuking their own."

"Andris won't be happy about that." Scarman noted, "She is the head of your Royal Guard, right?"

"If she wishes to stop me, she'll have to pry me out of my Konev." Arano said with a grim smile, "You have your orders, everyone. Let's end this."

'Mech Bay, ACV Sword of Restoration

Low Coromodir Orbit

Arano stood in front of her Konev. She had one last task before she led the second wave into battle. A holo camera was fixed on her, just like on Weldry. They knew now what her uncle was willing to do to remain in power. Some expressed their doubts, even after all they had accomplished. She had to motivate them, focus them, will them into the fight.

"Soldiers of the Restoration," she began, "you have all fought bravely, valiantly for our people. You have made it through the worst of Weldry, the frozen tundras of Panzyr, the streets of Smithon. From all across the Reach, you have liberated your homes from the steel-tipped grip of Director Espinosa. Now, here we are, where it all began. Where my uncle seized the throne and began his reign of tyranny. He thought I died at his treacherous hands, that he had secured his throne and began his work of stripping the corners of our great coalition to benefit the few. His vision of the future was one of fear, oppression, where neighbor turned against neighbor and any word of dissent would leave you in an unmarked grave. That goes against the very spirit of our Coalition, the fundamental underpinning of cooperation and friendship that we as a people have built over the centuries."

"I admit that when this campaign began, it was to seize back my throne. To face off against the treachery of Lord Espinosa through force of arms and take back what is rightfully mine. What we saw on Weldry changed that. I saw our people, beaten, broken, and dead because who they were and what they represented was a threat to his vision. I saw Raju Montgomery, my family's Master-at-Arms, the man who trained his daughter, within an inch of his life at the hands of his jailors. We were lucky. If we had taken but an hour longer, he would not be with us. Many were not, their condition so far gone because of the brutal regime that deemed it so. It was there that I realized this is so much bigger than petty revenge, that this war was one of liberation for all of us."

"Every world we wrested back, every city, every village, we saw what his regime did. Families torn asunder, livelihoods laid low, people desperately scrounging for what little remained. Through great hardship, we have endured. With weapons provided by our allies, we have triumphed. With the skill and determination of our soldiers, we are at the precipice of victory. It is at our apex and at the Directorate's nadir that Lord Espinosa revealed his last, desperate weapon: Davy Crockett nuclear shells. With this revelation he has shown us that it does not matter how many people die as long as he remains on the throne. House Gallas bravely discovered this at great cost. This has accelerated our efforts. We must put an end to his regime before he turns our capital into a nuclear wasteland."

"Brave soldiers of the Restoration, once more we descend into battle. Once more we fight our own kin, forced by a desperate despot to wade through the muck of war. We do this for our people, for peace, for the enduring prosperity of the Reach. This will be the toughest battle of our campaign. Espinosa is cornered and will do anything to ensure he retains a sliver of power. He must be made to answer for his crimes against our people and others he has deceived. He must face justice, and we will deliver it."

"FOR THE REACH!"

Cheers erupted in the 'mech bay as pilots and technicians thrust their fists in the air. The camera operator gave her the thumbs up and terminated the transmission. She checked in with her technicians on the status of her Konev. The particles cannons were in working order, rail gun loaded and ready, lasers checked and refocused for optimal range and damage, and a new active protection system called Trophy. She remembered Raju's AAR from Smithon. It can intercept missiles and even the odd autocannon round. Impressive piece of kit. With the last confirmation from the techs, she was cleared to mount up and conduct her final checks. It would be a quick trip to the surface after the air strikes were confirmed.

Directorate Central Logistics Center

Cordia City

The Captain in charge was nervous. It had been a few hours since the Long Tom batteries halted the Restoration's advance. Since the detonation of those precious Davy Crockett rounds, Restoration forces halted beyond the range of their artillery and landed the rest of their forces. They conducted some raids, engaged in some skirmishes, and harassed the frontline forces with light mortar fire. The artillery forces had strict orders to fire only when directed by the Colonel. They had only so many nuclear rounds and needed to apply them only when it was strategically advantageous. They needed to bleed Restoration forces as much as possible, to strengthen Director Espinosa's position at the negotiation table.

They felt a rumble in the distance, possibly another artillery fire mission. Their comms officer interrupted their thoughts.

"Artillery batteries are scattering, Captain." Comms reported, "Air defense reports that a pair of DropShips and the Restoration's aerospace craft are performing long range strikes against our batteries and forced them to displace."

"Did the Davy Crocketts go off?" they asked, nerves creeping into their voice.

"No, Captain." Comms responded, "All remaining Davy Crockett rounds are here, in our inventory."

They nodded, "Okay, coordinate with the batteries and make sure they can get what they need after they displace. How many are left?"

"Reports are still coming in. Hold." Comms pressed their headset to their ear, "We still have half the Long Toms. Thumpers and Snipers are being pushed in from our reserves to fill the gaps."

"They can't fire Davy Crocketts…" They scratched their head, "Get them the ammo they need. Are our supply trucks ready to go?"

"Yes, Captain. We're recalling everyone and getting them out—" A massive explosion rocked the base, sending it into chaos.

"WHERE DID THAT COME FROM!?" The Captain yelled.

A security soldier burst into the room with another pair flanking them, "Captain, are you hurt?"

"No. No, I'm fine. Where are we being—" another explosion threw them off their feet, "Hell! Where are we being hit from!?"

"Multiple supply trucks entering the base exploded, Captain." The soldier responded as they helped the Captain to their feet.

"Fuck." They dusted themselves off, "Contact our nuclear containment company and get their asses working. Could be dealing with a dirty bomb-type scenario if one of those trucks had a Davy Crockett. Were we hit by enemy fire?" They asked the soldier.

"No idea, Captain."

"Secure the perimeter, get patrols out there." They stared out the open door, "Goddamnit. This is the rear…"

Rampart Company managed to deploy in a risky low altitude hover drop from a few Restoration DropShips under the cover of air strikes and Dragon fire. On the outskirts of Cordia City, they found their target: the Directorate Logistics Center. For a weapon as important and dangerous as nuclear artillery shells, they couldn't risk deploying them to the myriad of ammo dumps around the city. They had to be directed and delivered by their central hub. Intel provided by satellite, drone, and local sources pointed to this area as that hub. Anti-air fire was minimal, as Directorate batteries were busy fending off BLB aerospace assets. They sent a wing to escort them to the drop zone and strike the logistics hub to soften them up for Rampart's attack.

The company landed in lance-strong formation at their predetermined points around the base. Captain Zhou and his expanded headquarters lance set up their comms vehicles and quickly rechecked their gear. He raised his lance leads on comms.

"Bulwark leads, Bulwark-One-One. Check in, over." Zhou ordered.

"Bulwark-Two-One, lance ready, over."

"Bulwark-Three-One, arty is set, over."

"Bulwark-Four-One, we're ready to go, over."

"Alright, company. Commence assault. By the numbers. Clear the way for CBRN to do their jobs. One-One out." On cue, lance three unleashed a storm of missiles and artillery shells from their position. They struck defensive hardpoints, heavy weapons nests, mortar positions, and communications posts. Directorate radio farms were utterly demolished, LRM batteries leveled, and heavy weapons turned to scrap. The rest of Rampart closed the distance and emerged from the streets of the city into what were supposed to be fields of fire for the Logistics Center's defenders. Instead, 'mechs began their deadly work. Supply vehicles were still at the entrances to the facility, desperate to escape destruction. They never got the chance. PPC, laser, autocannon, and machine gun fire raked the convoys with deadly efficiency. Explosions ripped through the thin-skinned trucks as their precious cargo ignited. Ammunition intended for their forces in the field turned into useless burning scrap that destroyed those who carried them. Rampart ignored those already in flames and focused their fire on the walls. Reinforced ferrocrete was tough, but the weapons of the Restoration were stronger. In minutes, portions of the walls were blasted inwards to the defenders rushing to retaliate. Chunks of rebar and ferrocrete peppered the vehicles and personnel that were unlucky enough to be caught behind. Screaming pierced through the thuds on combat, but there was no choice. If they wanted to survive, they had to fight. Directorate soldiers mounted up in vehicles and hoisted their support weapons toward the gaps and attempted their defense. The wounded were dragged away as lasers, machine guns, and autocannons hammered away at the gaps. The ferocity of their retaliation gave the Rampart lances a brief pause, but that was simply to pinpoint exactly where the fire came from. Bulwark-Three unleashed another hellstorm as explosive lead rain found their targets. Rampart managed to find an ancient Helepolis and refit it to keep pace with the operations that Rampart conducted. In this case, the Sniper artillery piece proved to be an absolute monster. Upgraded with a Magistracy-sourced computer, the fire solutions were deadly accurate with the right fire direction. HE, Cluster and Copperhead shells found their targets as massive LRM volleys did their own deadly damage. Weapons teams simply ceased to exist, and the light vehicles rushed to defend couldn't withstand the withering firepower. With the outer defense destroyed, and the inner cordon in shambles, Rampart advanced. They still had to achieve their objective.

The Captain of the Logistics Center knew their base was at most an hour from being overrun. Perimeter security was gone, the base was in chaos, and they couldn't call for reinforcements. He was thankful that his radio farm was perched atop their central command bunker. If it were anywhere else, they were assured dead. At least they had some time before they were forced to inevitably capitulate.

"Captain," the head of base security reported, "enemy are closing. They're getting within the wire."

"Any word on when we can call for a QRF?" the Captain asked comms.

They shook their head, "Techs are doing everything they can, but the Restoration hit it real hard. Nothing usable on the roof, and our spares are being ripped out of crates in a warehouse a couple hundred meters away. We won't be able to hold until comms are back online."

They took a deep breath and shook their head. It was inevitable. They had little to fight back with, and if the Restoration seized this base intact, they would have nuclear weapons. Undoubtedly, their head would be on the chopping block after a Restoration victory. They looked around their command center and made their decision.

"Get one of our supply trucks and load it up with as many Davy Crocketts as you can. Bring it here, arm the weapons, and give me the detonator. Transmit the order that we're holding this base until the end. The Restoration can't get their hands on nuclear weapons, the results would be apocalyptic. We are the keepers of these devastating tools of war, and if they proliferate…"

The staff of the command center stared at their Captain.

"We have no choice. It's been an honor, everyone. We make them bleed to get these weapons, and we will deny them the satisfaction."

The perimeter was close to collapse. Directorate fire slackened as each vehicle, weapons team, and soldier fell under Rampart's unceasing advance. The gaps in the walls were so numerous that Directorate forces had no real place to concentrate a response. The watchtowers that once stood guard over the base were piles of scrap metal and rubble. More violence ripped into the defenders as drone directed fire was shifted to what few troop concentrations remained. Zhou led his lance into the base proper, lackadaisically dispatching what little resistance remained. Poor bloody infantry fired their small arms at his Awesome. The Griffin his in lance tore them to pieces with a volley of LRMs loaded with flechette. The outer cordon was definitively breeched. All they had to do was clean up the last of the resistance and hand the base over to the CBRN units ready to secure the nuclear payloads. His HUD picked up enemy fire, one hundred meters away in a fortified bunker. Out of it a laser weapon carved through the air at his lance, doing what it could to stop them. He turned his torso to face it and unleashed a PPC shot. The particles screamed from the Awesome, ionizing the air around it as it raced to the target. With little ceremony, the blue bolt smashed into the ferrocrete structure and collapsed the firing port. Zhou followed up with another bolt to make sure whoever was in there was no longer a problem. His comms chirped.

"One-One, Two-One." Zhou recognized his XO's voice, Subaltern Farida 'Apex' Lamb, "Drones see enemy movement near the HQ, over."

Zhou brought up the feed, "Two-One, they're moving into the HQ and left the truck outside… We'll clear a path for an infantry assault. Get higher on the horn and get us some grunts, over."

"Roger, One-One. Two-One out."

Zhou set a waypoint for his lance to follow and set their sights on the path to the HQ three hundred meters away. That's when his vision went white for a microsecond before the Awesome's glass automatically tinted to black. Blind to the outside world, all he could do was hold on for dear life as he felt the force of his worst nightmare wanting to topple him to the ground. He could only hope that he survived the savaging of his 'mech.

Bridge, ACV Sword of Restoration

Outside Cordia City

Colonel Karen Andris' eyes bulged as she watched the massive nuclear detonation in abject horror. Satellite and drone feeds confirmed a yield of five kilotons on the outskirts of Cordia City. The logistics hub that Rampart Company was in the process of securing was reduced to ash. A mushroom cloud hung over the site as she could see it clear as day from the DropShip's external cameras. Buildings on the outskirts of the city close to the base were flattened by the blast wave of the detonation. Fires were already seen outside the immediate radius and the grim specter of the Age of War had revealed its ghostly visage.

"Comms, can you cut through the EMI and get ahold of Rampart?" She asked the comms officer.

"We're trying, but we'll just have to wait. No way we can cut through that with a secure channel." The officer replied, "Ma'am, Generals Cerun and Rosse are on the line."

She tore her eyes away from the sun of man and nodded to them, "Put 'em through."

"Colonel, we saw the feeds." Cerun stated grimly, "We have to accelerate our pace and finish this."

Rosse nodded as she prepared her forces, "We will retrieve Rampart from the clutches of the Age of War."

"I'll ramp up SEAD and counter battery operations on my end." Cerun confirmed, "Colonel?"

"Second wave has already been ordered to the field. Lady Arano is preparing for the assault. In conjunction with that, I want the Revenants in the palace yesterday. The Espinosas need to be alive, to face justice."

"Roger, Colonel. They're already en route." Cerun looked down at his own holo-table, "Seems like what's left of Directorate air defense is in complete shambles. RADARs are cooked, AA sites leveled, what's left of 'em completely reliant on manual targeting. It's like World War Two with lasers. The Revenants will have no trouble penetrating this airspace."

DropShip ACV Here and There

En route to Espinosa Palace

"TWO MINUTES!" The crew chief announced over comms to the Revenants as the DropShip approached the dropzone. Outside the vessel, the skies were much calmer than when the battle began. The Directorate's aerospace forces were swatted aside, grounded by force. Guided AA platforms crushed by the Restoration's own guided munitions from aerospace assets. What fire remained was few, wild and manually guided, a diminished threat against a coordinated and switched on aerospace force.

Lieutenant JG Sophie Ryan sat at the last seat before the rear loading door and performed one last check. She looked down at the row of seats at her team. Each and every one were looking over their weapons, their equipment, their gear. She tapped her chest and performed one last diagnostic on her HUD. They were testing the ISA's PA-500 Erinyes power armor system in a real combat scenario. The Revenants had trained since their deployment to Guldra on the capabilities and use of the armor developed by themselves and ISA theorists on Earth and Cradle. That was simulation, theory, exercises. Today was reality.

Her HUD popped up with a quick message from Commander Delcroix. He was in overall command of the operation.

"Confirm receipt of mission plan." The message stated plainly.

She sent a mental command, "Sending." There was a brief pause.

"Modifications." The response stated, "Good. Remember, we need the Director and Victoria alive. Ensure their survival."

"Message received and understood."

"Happy hunting." The words faded from her HUD. She watched the timer in the corner of her vision tick down second by second. She switched her HUD to a drone circling the battlefield and slew one of the sensors onto the palace. Guards were scurrying about, hurriedly performing last-minute preparations on their fighting positions. Machine gun positions, hardened defensive points, dug in vehicles and the odd 'mech held in reserve made up the garrison of their AO. The vehicles and 'mechs concerned her. She was assured in both sims and from the test reports that the Erinyes could withstand Inner Sphere 'mech grade weapons, but she was still in first generation experimental equipment. Inevitably, something would break.

The lights in the bay switched from red to green, "LINE UP!" the crew chief commanded.

Ryan stood up, stowed her weapon, and made her way to the DropShip door. Wind rushed through the open doorway as she performed her duties. She checked the doorway and gave the all clear signal. The crew chief gave her the signal and she made the announcement, "GO GO GO!"

She leapt out of the doorway into the open air of Cordia City. Close behind the rest of the Revenants poured out of the DropShip into the sky. Her HUD updated with her landing waypoint and the positions of her soldiers as they hurtled closer to the ground. The light of dusk filtered through her visor and glinted off the buildings of the city. The waypoint highlighted her drop zone, a building a couple hundred meters away from the palace proper. She maneuvered herself toward the waypoint, her jumpjets fired to orient her toward the destination. Though it was a warzone, the scene was oddly serene. The sounds of gunfire, the smell of burnt ozone, the din of battle, all of that was absent. Here she was, flying away from the scarred battlespace into the pristine capital district. She knew that as soon as they landed that peace would be shattered.

Gracefully, she landed on the roof of her designated building. Upon landing, the peace was held. She took stock of her surroundings and the position of her soldiers. They had managed to insert deadly close to the enemy without apparent alarm. They had been too busy with the air strikes to notice their arrival. In the relative quiet, her command went about their work. Power armored soldiers scattered across the drop zone began to coalesce into their fireteams. Some of them encountered resistance, but the chaos their air cover sowed helped mask their movements. The speed and restrained violence their Erinyes were capable of compounded their effectiveness. Her platoon commander and XO for the operation Sergeant MacClellan met her in a room just below the roof she landed on.

"Ma'am," he whispered over comms, "Everyone is in position."

She nodded and leveled her Kindjal at a window, "Let 'em have it."

In near perfect synchronicity, the Revenants shattered the relative calm of the palace perimeter. LaserGewehrs and Kindjals spat hate from hastily prepared positions. Inkvine launchers punched holes in vehicles all over the perimeter. Confused infantry scanned their surroundings, desperate to get a fix on who or what was tearing into them. Those precious moments, vital to their survival, were interrupted by more concentrated violence. Directorate troops spotted figures leaping from building to building as other buildings spewed death from slats, windows, anything with an opening. Screams, gunfire, explosions, and the distinct smell of burning ozone filled the air of the palace outskirts. The Palace 'Mech Guard reacted quickly and fired their weapons on the fleeting targets. Powerful autocannon, laser, and missile weapons lashed at their foe, but the buildings ate their fire as the agility of the Revenants proved enough to evade their foe. An Atlas, the ancient avatar of General Kerensky's own design, struggled to bring its mighty arsenal to bear. An AC-20 round slammed into a building as a Revenant jumped from its roof to the ground. They did not realize the imminent danger they were in. Two more Revenants smashed through the walls of the buildings beside it and lept on its head. One soldier quickly identified the hatch for the pilot, planted a heap of plastic explosives, and jumped to the opposite building. The other held on for dear life as the charge detonated inward. The mighty relic of the Star League era staggered as its pilot was exposed to the harsh reality that was about to befall them. Without skipping a beat, the second soldier threw in a grenade and followed their comrade. Just as the pilot began to regain their senses they simply ceased to exist. Unceremoniously, the 'death's head' filled with the remains of the unfortunate soul that used to occupy it and fell face-first into the pocked streets of Cordia City.

Another element of two Revenants were not so fortunate. Urban fighting tended to favor the nimble, and half a lance of Spiders took to the chase. They could nearly match the agility of the Erinyes troopers, save their ability to enter buildings without bringing it down. One of their lance already tried, having tunneled in on the pair and attempted to pursue them into a wealthy condo. The building collapsed on the 'mech, a Stinger, and took it out of the fight. Still, their pursuers were persistent and they could only evade them for so long before their luck ran out. A burst of fusion-powered flame followed the pair into another block of buildings as one of the Spiders took a shot. The fact they were using their flamer made the Revenants in duress even moreso.

"Six, Ten!" one of them called over comms, panting heavily, "Need support, over!"

"Ten," Ryan responded over the radio, "got a fireteam coming your way. Can you hold them, over?"

The soldier took a deep breath as they hugged a wall, "We'll try, Six. Out." They switched frequency to their current partner, "Gotta fight these fuckers, Novák."

Corporal Novák drew a smoke grenade from their belt, "How the hell do we hold them?"

"Toss that smoke outside and follow me up. I got an idea."

Novák obeyed and deployed the multispectral smoke grenade out of the still burning doorway. They rushed up the stairs as carefully as they could, the bulk of their power armor strained the already damaged steps. Fusion-powered flames tended to cause more damage than advertised, which suited their primary purpose of 'riot control' well. Revenant-Ten, Corporal Glass, hugged an interior wall, careful not to expose themselves to the outside world. The 'mechs gave them hardly any breathing room, literally and metaphorically as laser fire carved into the outer walls and flames bathed the bottom floor. The virtual noose tightened around the pair, and they knew they had precious little time left. Glass peered through a loophole in a wall into the adjacent room. They noticed they had a clear view to the outside through a window. A drone showed one of the Spiders venturing a peek into the building. Glass took the opportunity to fire a burst from their LG-1 and quickly followed it up with a glance into the adjacent doorway and a forty-millimeter armor-piercing grenade from the underslung launcher. The laser burst temporarily blinded the pilot as the grenade cracked the glass of the cockpit. In retaliation for the transgression, the Spider pilot unloaded a series of bursts from their flamer and medium laser. The flamer's heat quickly overwhelmed the already taxed shield systems of the power armor. The medium laser punched a hole through the building and carved its way through the building and into the briefly exposed figure of Corporal Glass. The force of the laser's fury concentrated against the sliver of their figure and nearly burnt through the armor of their arm. Just as the last bits of material ablated from the frame, their limb was saved when multiple explosions rocked the Directorate Spider.

Outside, two Revenant fire teams linked up and poured concentrated hate on the Spider pair. Inkvine launchers lopped off the fragile legs of the stationary light 'mechs as Kindjal and laser fire poured into them. Armor-piercing grenades interspersed with laser fire as LG-1 gunners proved that coordination and fire superiority trumped size any day. When the Spiders were collapsing, a message crackled over comms.

"Bulwark-One-One to all Specters. Need a hand?"

The cordon was set. The Revenant's efforts had left the palace isolated and gave the Coalition enough time to physically contact Rampart Company and free them up to reinforce the Revenant assault. The outer city had already fallen as Arano ground through defense lines and bunkers with overwhelming firepower and coordinated assaults. With the remaining Davy Crocketts either seized or destroyed, the Directorate no longer had a trump card to wield. Resistance faded minute by minute as irregular sympathizers and Coalition forces secured hard points and blocks of Cordia City. It was the end game. Lady Arano opened a channel from her forward operating base to her uncle. His image appeared before her as she sat in her Konev. She checked to make sure that the channel was open to her inner circle across the battlefield.

"Your nuclear arms are gone." Kamea Arano announced with finality, "They can no longer be used against us, and you have no more cards to play. For the good of our people, you must end this. Order your troops to stand down."

Director Espinosa sighed, "Our people. That's what this has always been about, you know. Had you only listened to me, I would never have taken your throne." He shook his head, "I didn't desire power for its own sake. My only care was for the Reach. Its prosperity. Its enduring glory."

"And yet," Arano countered, "you reached for that glory on the backs of our people. This…" She paused as she searched for the words to describe her disgust, "thing that you've built… it isn't who we are." She steadied her breath, "Your Directorate has fallen, Uncle. Clinging to it will not help the Reach."

"Nothing will help the Reach." Espinosa said ruefully, "Not anymore. This war has doomed us all. The realm bleeds, Kamea. We're weaker now than we've ever been, and soon enough the sharks will begin to circle."

Scarman's chuckle pierced through the channel, "You've got no idea what'll happen after this all ends. Not that you'll see it at any rate."

"You cannot kill me, mercenary." Espinosa stated matter-of-factly, "If you do, you'll turn me into a martyr and the Reach will never, ever be at peace." He stared at Arano, "Kamea, listen to me. Coromodir is yours. I will stand down… but you must take me alive. The realm will tear itself apart if you don't."

Victoria Espinosa's image burst into the scene, "NO! Father, you cannot do this! The Reach depends on the Directorate for survival! For glory! You told me yourself that if we fail, the realm will die!"

The elder Espinosa faced his daughter, "The Directorate has already fallen, Victoria. We've lost. Continuing to fight would only cost more lives."

Victoria's face contorted into astounded, confused rage, "Cost lives? Cost lives!? You ordered me to kill ELEVEN THOUSAND people on Perdition, and now you care about bloodshed!? There is an OCEAN of blood on my hands, Father! I spilled it because you told me it was NECESSARY!"

Santiago tried to assuage her, "And it was, but our gambit has failed." He put his hand on her shoulder, "It's over now, Victoria. I know that's hard for you to accept, but you must stand down."

Victoria shoved his hand aside, "No, Father. You may have gone craven, but I am a 'MechWarrior. I will die before I concede defeat." She turned to face Arano, "You want this world, Kamea? Come and fight me for it. Your lance against mine, at the tourney grounds. The contest that was denied us. You and me, to the death, for the REACH!"

Arano shook her head, "Aren't you tired of death yet, cousin? Was the Perdition Massacre not enough for you?"

Victoria shook with the same rage, barely contained, "I did that for the Reach. For our people! It was my responsibility… I didn't have a choice!" She shook her head and clenched her fists, "But… you don't understand, and you never will." She glared at Arano, "…and so, I will make things easy for you. You don't have to understand why I've done the things I've done. You need only face me in the arena… where I will best you, as I always have. As I was trained to do. You will give me what I want or I will detonate the last Davy Crockett we have above the residential quarter of the city. My Father was going to hand it over to you, and I will honor that only if you face me." Her face contorted as the emotions ran wild, "Accept my challenge, Kamea! Accept it, or I will add another ten thousand to my ocean of blood!"

Arano held back a sad laugh, "I almost pity you. You'll have your fight, Victoria… and yours will be the last blood I spill in this war." She terminated the connection to Cordia Palace, "Scarman, I want you in that arena with me. Once Rampart is refit, two of their best will join us."

Scarman smiled, "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Lady Arano. I'll be there."

"Raju, Colonel Andris, keep a close eye on any remaining Directorate forces. If there is any hit of duplicity, erase them. I want no chance of another nuclear detonation. Cerun, Rosse, keep your aerospace assets on standby. It's long past time we brought this war to a close."

Outskirts of Cordia City

Captain Octavio Zhou gazed up at his scorched Awesome as technicians in full CBRN gear hosed it down. He was extremely lucky. Had he been only a few meters closer to the center of the nuclear blast, he would no longer exist. The assault 'mech was badly burned, but it was mostly armor and shield repair. Vital systems were well within spec even after suffering the full force of a synchronized Davy Crockett blast. His lancemates weren't so lucky. His lance leader was in the medbay under close examination after their shields on their Griffin catastrophically overloaded and they were forced to eject into the radioactive atmosphere. That 'mech was out of action for the remainder of the battle, and that 'MechWarrior may suffer the worst side-effect of a nuclear detonation: radiation poisoning. The Shadowhawk pilot did not suffer the same fate as their comrade, but they were out of action all the same. Portions of the inner structure and sensitive electronics suffered extreme damage, barely held together by the hope of a new tomorrow that Arano espoused. The last member of his lance, a Wolverine pilot, was in better condition than his own 'mech. It helped that when the nukes went off, they were a few meters behind him. He took the brunt of the force while they remained relatively safe.

"Captain," a voice behind him announced. It was his XO Subaltern Farida Lamb, "Lady Arano is on the line."

"Roger. To the comms room." The pair proceeded to answer the call of the liege lady.

When they arrived at the comms room, they were greeted by the crisp holographic image of Lady Kamea Arano, "Captain Zhou, Subaltern Lamb." She nodded to them as they responded with salutes, "Well, it's the end game."

"Forgive me, Lady Arano, but I thought that was the whole point of this battle." Zhou stated.

Arano chuckled, "I wish, Captain. There is one last battle that must be won."

"We have the palace surrounded, my Lady." Lamb observed, "Just say the word, and Director Espinosa is in your hands."

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, Subaltern, but the outcome of this war will depend on this last battle."

Zhou nodded, "What's the brief, my Lady?"

"You and Subaltern Lamb will accompany myself and Commander Scarman to the Arena. We will engage Victoria Espinosa and the rest of her lance in mortal combat for the future of the Reach."

Zhou and Lamb glanced at one another in silence and blinked. They looked back at Lady Arano. Zhou broke the silence, "My Lady, if you die in this, the Reach will disintegrate."

Arano nodded solemnly, "My cousin has threatened to use House Espinosa's last Long Tom battery to deploy a Davy Crocket above the residential quarter. I have no choice but to oblige her."

Lamb exhaled, "My Lady… are you sure about this? Generals Cerun and Rosse could easily decapitate this threat with our air dominance."

"I discussed this with Lord Madeira and Lord Montgomery. The symbolism, the last ember of organized resistance being defeated in honorable combat would inspire those who still stand against us to concede."

Zhou mulled over the implications of both victory and defeat, "What will happen to Director Espinosa?"

"We haven't decided yet. Lord Madeira is working on the framework as we speak." Arano shifted topics, "How long until your 'mechs are ready for combat?"

"The Captain's will be a couple hours." Lamb confirmed, "The techs are hosing down the surfaces and will commence refit as soon as its safe."

Zhou shrugged, "Nukes are something I thought were relegated to history."

"Regardless, work as quickly as possible and be prepared for anything."

Tournament Grounds, Cordia City

Kilometers above the BLV Carbuncle carried out one of its more important duties: Intelligence, Surveillance, and Reconnaissance. They oversaw all intelligence assets assigned to monitor the Tournament Grounds and the surrounding area. Everything from drones, satellites, their own sensors, and assets on the ground, they collated and parsed all the data to feed to Lady Arano and the rest of the Coalition. The picture on the ground and in the sky was one of quiet. The grounds were empty, save for the Royal Box. Both HumInt and sensors pointed to Director Espinosa and an escort detail of some kind. It was unclear whether these were advisors or soldiers assigned to prevent him from surrendering properly. The stables hummed with activity, pilots and technicians performed final checks on a lance of 'mechs to ensure combat worthiness. The combatants on the side of the Directorate were already decided: A KGC-0000 King Crab; an AWS-8T Awesome; a CTF-1X Cataphract; and a JM6-S JagerMech. Analysts deduced that the King Crab would be piloted by none other than Victoria Espinosa herself. There were some rumblings from HumInt sources that some lostech was installed on the already mighty hundred-ton machine.

Lady Arano and her lance were prepared. The armories of Artru had been dispersed throughout her army, with the Royal Guard and other top-tier formations having access to mountains of lostech equipment augmented with MoC-provided gear. Arano herself had grown accustomed to the TH-08 Konev and its balance between lethality, mobility, and survivability. It shrugged off everything thrown at it, evaded fire like a 'mech ten to fifteen tons lighter and annihilated near anything in a single volley. Commander Scarman brought his own, tuned to his fighting style. Captain Zhou's own AWS-8Q Awesome had been completely revamped with Magistracy technology and its three PPC matched her own Konev's, not to mention the armor capability increase and installation of a shield system. The historically hot-running mech could now fire on the move while alpha-striking near constantly, save in a low or no atmosphere environment. Subaltern Lamb brought another heavily upgraded assault 'mech, a BLR-1G BattleMaster. The lasers were upgraded with focusing arrays that increased their range and damage output. The PPC once again matched her own. The SRM-6 was upgraded with an MoC targeting system, it boasted a shield, and the entire system ran very cool thanks to new heatsinks.

They marched to the outskirts of the Tournament Grounds. The ground crunched beneath the feet of the four war machines, off to the last battle of this war. Scarman glanced up and reviewed his HUD. The sensor mesh had already given him and the rest of the lance an accurate lay of the battlefield. He could 'see' Victoria's lance through the walls of the canyon and arena stables. Their Directorate opponents were already on the move into their fighting positions. Scarman commended their fighting spirit and choice of terrain. There were a few pillars in the center of the arena that would lure a foolhardy pilot to jump up and seize the high ground. That would be a fatal error. A single alpha strike of any of their 'mechs or the combined alpha strike potential of two of Victoria's lance would bring a pillar down and either disorient or disable the 'mech stood above. The pillars explained the presence of the JagerMech on Victoria's side. There was nothing else for it. They were almost at the entrance waypoint.

Captain Zhou walked his Awesome to the preset waypoint. His techs worked a minor miracle to get his 'mech ready for this battle. Armor panels were completely replaced, weapons replaced for service, brand new shield systems installed, electronics overhaul, all in record time. It helped that his Awesome and Lamb's BattleMaster were considered the greatest focus of the entire war effort when news of this last battle spread. Orders from Lady Arano herself threw manpower at the problem in a way he had not seen in the entire war. He gazed through the armored glass of his 'mech. In the distance, his computer highlighted the enemies in range and fed optimal firing solutions to his weapons. All he needed to do was press the trigger. He awaited his orders.

"Incoming Transmission." The very Combine-tinged voice of his computer stated. Without pause, the open channel played in all their ears.

"Victoria," it was the voice of Director Espinosa, "I need you to listen to me. The Directorate has fallen. Our armies have been routed—even as I speak, Restoration forces have the palace surrounded and occupy key positions in Cordia City itself. If you kill your cousin now, the entire Reach will fall into anarchy."

"And if Kamea wins, the Reach is doomed anyway!" Victoria Espinosa retorted in near uncontrolled fury, "You've been telling me that for years now! Was it all a lie, Father!?"

"VICTORIA!" Santiago's voice boomed over comms and in the arena itself, "This is NOT THE TIME for DEBATE! You will attend to my words and obey me, as you always have. I ORDER you to STAND DOWN, for the good of the Reach!"

"The Directorate is the Reach, Father." Victoria retorted with finality, "I will never stop fighting for it. Wallow in your cowardice—I will win this war despite you."

"She's offline." Colonel Andris came over their secure channel, "You have no choice, my Lady. Victoria must die this day. It is the only way to bring peace to the Reach."

"If that is her choice, so be it." Kamea shook her head and closed her eyes, "I'll do whatever it takes to save my people. Fall in on me, 'MechWarriors… we have one more wrong to right."

Subaltern Lamb made the first move. Her BattleMaster charged forward into a copse of trees to obscure her approach. In seconds, her computer recognized the nearest and most exposed target: the JagerMech. She locked on and unleashed the full complement of her weapons systems. The six medium lasers tore into the thin armor of the side torso and melted it away. The PPC bolt slammed into the center torso and left what little armor remained cracked and brittle. The SRMs flew true and cratered across the 'mech. The last missile found the underlying structure and exposed ammunition feeds of the JagerMech. In spectacular fashion, the JagerMech's side exploded as the ammunition cooked off and destroyed the 'mech. Captain Zhou had a solid lock on the Cataphract and unleashed absolute hell. The three upgraded PPCs were aimed squarely at the cockpit of the frankenmech. Two of the shots smashed into the toros and left barely armor on the center of the 'mech. The last caught the pilot straight in the armored glass. It melted straight through and erased the poor pilot from existence. Scarman watched as the two Directorate 'mechs ceased to be a threat and picked the opposing Awesome as his target. The opponent reacted as quickly as they could given the fall of their comrades. Two RAMTech 1200 large lasers impacted his shields as thirty LRMs slashed toward him. Scarman jumped his Konev as he cursed under his breath. His arm-mounted pulse lasers immediately switched to point defense mode and began to incinerate the missiles in midair. He landed behind a pillar as the lasers carved into the opposite side and the LRMs exploded harmlessly in turn. Scarman popped around the corner and took his shots. An accurate barrage of every weapon at his disposal struck the Awesome. Distracted by Scarman, the Directorate pilot did not realize that their comrades had already fallen. Lamb and Zhou unleashed their fury on the enemy Awesome and drowned it an artificial malignant ocean.

Victoria was blinded by her rage and homed in on Kamea. Arano anticipated this and took the first shot. She opened with a rail gun round and a pair of particle cannon blasts at Victoria's King Crab. The hypervelocity slug of metal arrived on target first as it smashed into the considerable armor of the King Crab. The particles arrived soon after as their lethal force added to the symphony of devastation. Victoria herself was out of effective weapons range. Her targeting computer struggled to keep a solid lock on Arano's 'mech. It spat out a designation that she had never seen before: MAD-KOV. No indication of its weapons loadout, but she was familiar enough from her experience on Anvelt. Unlike that dust ball, she was no longer helpless in a Catapult. The mighty King Crab would express its dominance on this day. She paid no mind as she pushed forward to close the distance and win this war, however pyrrhic it may be. The impacts on her armor were of little concern as her readout gave her the confidence to continue. Kamea unleashed another volley, this time joined by her pulse lasers. There was still more than enough space between them before Kamea would even consider jumping back. Victoria remained undeterred, even as the armor on parts of her 'mech began to flash at her. All Victoria needed was to get her pair of AC-20s in range and the war was over. Her single-minded path to assault screeched to a halt as she became acutely aware that she was alone, surrounded on all sides by Kamea and her lance.

"You're as much a victim as you are a murderer, Victoria." Arano said sadly, "Your father raised you to kill in his name."

"And you are a fool." Victoria snarled, "Your father raised you to believe you were the hero of some ridiculous fairytale. You still believe it, even now."

"Hero?" Kamea shook her head, "No. I'm no hero. This war taught me that, and it must end. If you won't stop it, I will."

When Arano terminated her communication, Victoria's King Crab was ravaged on all sides by missiles, particle cannons, lasers, and all manner of ordinance that Arano's lance had on them. Victoria roared in anger as she fired all her weapons at Kamea. The AC-20 rounds went wild, the fifteen LRMs barely got a lock and were swatted away by Coalition lasers and lead, and the large laser found its target only to be stopped by the ever present invisible barriers on seemingly every last Coalition 'mech and vehicle. Victoria's roar turned into screams as sensitive components of her cockpit burst around her and her fusion engine nearly melted down, barely stopped by its safety mechanisms. Under the sheer weight of fire, Kamea's lance shredded apart the King Crab's immense armor. An exposed store of ammunition was touched off and exploded, critically crippling the 'mech. Victoria, her consciousness fading, struggled to keep it upright. The cascading failure of systems, the King Crab unceremoniously collapsed. Victoria stared at the sky; her cockpit exposed as her 'mech lay face up.

"…All this death…" Victoria coughed up blood, "the coup, Perdition… All of it… for nothing…"

Arano stared down at the broken form of her cousin, a person she once considered a sister, "It was always for nothing, Victoria. The Directorate was never going to be the return to glory your father promised."

"…I know, cousin. I… I know. Our fathers lied to us. There is no future for the Reach." Victoria hacked up more blood, "You are the hero of nothing, cousin… nothing at all." The life faded from her eyes as the last thing she saw was Arano's victorious 'mech stood above her.

Kamea fought back tears, "I'm sorry, Victoria… you left me no choice. This war stole from all of us but make no mistake: justice was served today. We restored the Coalition and finally… Coromodir is free."