Chapter 21: Panzyr Aftermath

December 16, 3025

Aurigan Restoration Territory

Panzyr II

Tension hung in the air as Lady Kamea Arano stood before Lord Decimis in the heart of his manor flanked by a healthy number of her Canopian soldiers and a contingent of Lieutenant Andris' Second Decimis Fusiliers, who had proven their loyalty.

Lord Decimis stood alone save for his son, Darren. Kamea had worried about appearing overbearing bringing so many soldiers with her, but not for long. Lord Decimis had betrayed her once… after a fashion, at least. He had made his loyalties very clear: he would follow her so long as it was in the best interests of his House, and no longer.

It was up to her to ensure his interests remained aligned with hers, be it with the carrot or with the stick.

"Congratulations on your great victory, Lady Aarno," said Decimis with a respectful nod. "Now that we have been liberated from the yoke of the Espinosa's oppression, we welcome your return and offer you the full support of our House."

"I accept," replied Kamea simply. "And I assure you, your… lesson is not one I will forget." Lord Decimis nodded again gravely. "Let us proceed to your oath of fealty, my lord, for there is much work ahead of us."

…

Donavan woke up in the Panzyr capital's primary hospital feeling stiff as a board and like he'd been trampled on by something large and unpleasant. He was sore everywhere, and it hurt to move. He turned his head, wincing as the muscles in his neck protested, then relaxed slightly as he saw the monitoring machines over the bed in the room still beeping steadily over the motionless form of Jessica Chermovskaya.

It had been touch-and-go there for a while, her situation critical, but the doctors assured him that if she made it through the night, she would pull through. That was the good news. The bad news was that they had also made clear she would never pilot a 'Mech again.

The left side of her body had been badly mangled. She'd lost the last three fingers on that hand, and at best would only regain partial mobility in the rest of her hand and leg.

Donavan eased his head back around to look at the ceiling and think. That mission was brutal. Aside from losing Glitch, the Vindicator was out of it until they could get a laundry list of Capellan parts which would be heavily marked up in price, if they could find them at all. The Catapult was also in bad shape, and the Centurion wasn't much better. There were some positives, though. They'd accomplished the mission and saved the Restoration, so Kamea was likely to be generous. All of his people were still breathing, and there was a great deal of salvage to be had.

Just keep telling yourself that, Donavan. Because on the other hand…

Lord Espinosa had suckered Lady Arano, there was no getting around that. The entire Restoration movement had hung by a threat, and it was only dumb luck the Wolves had arrived when they did. And even then, they'd gotten hammered. They couldn't afford more fights like this, and it was his job to see these things coming.

He had to do better.

January 2, 3026

Restoration Territory

Panzyr II

Behemoth crunched through the mountain snow in her Shadow Hawk, and her face was grim. They'd marched passed kilometer after kilometer of torched fields and barns, silos and granaries, all burned to the ground. She pushed the Shadow Hawk harder, trying to keep up with her lance.

Dropline and Farmboy were in the Locusts, but Behemoth kept them on a short leash. Part of that was because the remains of the Directorate infantry company they were hunting were well-stocked with crew-fired SRMs, but most of it was because she didn't fully trust them yet. So instead, she had Dekker in the Phoenix Hawk up front. Her Shadow Hawk was the slowest of the bunch.

"Lead, Dekker, I've got something."

Behemoth frowned over the incoming sensor data. That looked like them – she couldn't think of any other reason a bunch of people would be camped out way the hell out here in meter-deep snow.

"Lance, lead. These are some of the bastards that destroyed the food in the middle of winter out of spite." She gripped her controls in fury. "Lady Arano was clear, and I'm not saying no prisoners… but if they're not asking, I'm not offering. Move in, but keep your eyes open for 'Mechs. They have at least one left somewhere out here."

Behemoth hung back from the fight to keep an eye on things, as her weapons were nearly useless for fighting dug-in infantry. But this high up in the mountains there weren't any tanks to worry about, so the 'Mechs moved in, their four machine guns devastating the already beleaguered infantry. Small arms fire plinked ineffectively at 'Mech armor plating, and a half-dozen SRMs streaked back, but there could be only one outcome to this fight.

Then a barrage of lasers flashed out of the snow to collide with Farmboy, melting all of the armor off his left side, as the powered-down, snow-covered Centurion AL came to life.

There you are! The Locusts scattered and Medusa hit the jumpjets, burning a nearby squad of infantry alive, and Behemoth charged forward. The others would flank and harass, but Behemoth wanted this one. She wanted him badly.

January 6, 3026

Restoration Territory

Panzyr II

Three weeks had passed since Panzyr's liberation, and Lady Arano once more stood on the spaceport landing pad near the Cormorant. There was even less ceremony today than when she'd arrived, and considerably more scars of battle in the structures, and she moved quickly up the gangway to board the DropShip.

Even with the Wolves' soft touch, it had taken all three of those weeks to get the spaceport's control center back into full operation, which time had been some of the most exhausting, emotionally draining times of her life. Panzyr had already been in poor shape, but then several of the Directorate's surviving troops had gone on a rampage, destroying granaries, silos, entire warehouses of stockpiled provisions for the winter, before they could be hunted down and their pilots executed for their crimes.

Now starvation stalked the cold winds of Panzyr.

She'd done what she could, providing some of her own provisions and immediately calling on Lady Centrella to move relief supplies. But nothing could move until the control station was repaired, so in the long days of waiting, she planned.

She'd placed the Second Decimis Fusiliers in control of the spaceport in her direct name rather than on behalf of Lord Decimis. She couldn't do that indefinitely, but she had the leverage for now. And deep down, she didn't trust Lord Decimis to be in control of her person or her DropShip. Plus, the Fusiliers weren't Canopian, which meant they hopefully wouldn't be seen as foreign occupants. It also meant that "her" people would be the ones distributing the food, which wouldn't hurt.

She'd also set about recruiting heavily from the local population. They had plenty of motivation to strike back at the Directorate, they would lower her reliance on the (rapidly depleting) Canopian troops, and meant fewer mouths to feed on Panzyr in the coming months. She hoped to use the Canopians as a training cadre, if they agreed, to train her new troops using their desperately needed experience.

The Cormorant's gangway clanged shut behind her and she moved to her chambers to strap in. A minute later the Cormorant, her belly full of new recruits, lifted off and headed for space to clear the landing pad for the relief shuttles already waiting in high orbit.

She leaned back, relaxing in her restraints and closing bleary eyes as the transport raced skyward. All that was well and good, but it was all tactical. Strategically, she planned even more drastic changes.

Her hopes for a rapid advance and groundswell of Houses turning to her side were well and truly dashed. The desperate supply situation on Panzyr meant she simply couldn't support it… and Lord Decimis' brutal lesson on House loyalty made it painfully clear it had been a naïve hope from the start.

Her fists clenched on the armrests, then she forced them to relax once more. She faced the painful truth once more – she couldn't afford any more false illusions. Her right to rule was meaningless to the Houses, and probably to most of the commoners, too. She might be legally entitled to the job, but the only person that seemed to matter to was her. Nobody would follow her or trust her unless she earned it.

So, if the Houses truly had no loyalty to her or her family and would only join her if it was in their best interests, then she had to make it in their interests. But she also couldn't afford to focus so heavily on the Houses that she forgot the commoners. Their support would be critical, and the only hope to end what was quickly becoming the full-blown civil war she had tried so hard to avoid.

But for all the ways Uncle Espinosa had outmaneuvered her, he'd made a mistake. He'd forgotten how the commoners would react to burning the food in wintertime - that was something people on any planet in the periphery could understand all too well. The Houses would see the pointed warning of the cost of defying him, but the commoners would see it very differently.

She had to find a way to turn that to her advantage.

Decisions, decisions… and millions of lives depend on me getting them right. No pressure, Kamea.

January 15, 3026

Restoration Territory

Panzyr System

Donavan stood in the Med Bay aboard the Argo as they cruised out to meet the commercial JumpShip which had arrived in the Panzyr System at last. Lady Arano and her forces were long gone, plotting their next move.

Lying in the beds were too many of his people.

Jessica "Glitch" Chermovskaya lay silently staring at the ceiling, her usual bubbly optimism gone. Octavio was steadily making progress, and Elise was chomping at the bit to be released by Dr. Harrin who had her under observation. Kevin was there, too. He'd done well in the mopping up actions on Panzyr, but the close combat in the mountains had been a little too much – he'd slipped in a snowdrift and fallen. He'd gotten off with just a mild concussion, fortunately.

He sighed and headed out into the halls, which were finally closed up and loose wiring secured, and made his way towards the cockpit. Sumire was piloting them out, and this was the first chance he'd had to speak with her in something like privacy since they made planetfall.

The cockpit door hissed open and he took it in. The place was built on as lavish a scale as everything else on the Argo, much of it covered in knobs, switches, and readouts he couldn't ever hope to understand.

He eased himself into a vacant co-pilot's chair and almost succeeded in hiding his grunt of pain from his lingering soreness. He leaned back and closed his eyes, unconsciously reaching for Sumire's hand, and smiled when she took it.

For a minute they sat there, just enjoying each other's company, then Donavan spoke. "Well, that wasn't fun. But it was a win."

"Many more wins like that and there won't be anyone around to celebrate," she added pointedly.

"Granted. Lord Espinosa almost had us there. Should have, really."

"I've been thinking about that," said Sumire thoughtfully, and Donavan cracked an eye open to glance at her. "What do you mean?"

"The Directorate had two plans here. The first plan anticipated Kamea's objective and sucked her into the city, got forces there quickly to sneak around her, seized the spaceport, and brought in reinforcements. Kamea could only surrender, her forces still mostly in one piece. It's not likely the Canopians would put in some hopeless last stand for her. That entire operation was built on careful calculation, subterfuge, maneuvering, and conservation of forces – on both sides."

"It was certainly impressive, but what are you getting at?"

"The second plan," continued Sumire grimly, "was to go full scorched earth, burning the crops and starving the civilian population, causing maximum casualties and destruction."

Donavan opened both eyes and stared blankly at the flight controls, trying not to remember the many already desperate people as the first relief ships began to land.

"Donavan, the Directorate is acting like it has a split personality. Half the time it's careful, calculating, and efficient, and the other half of the time it's shortsightedly brutal and violent."

"You're suggesting there's some sort of leadership fracture going on?"

Sumire shrugged. "Unless you think the same person that planned this operation to take Kamea alive and preserve its forces for the long term was also the one that told everyone Kamea was dead, or tried to assassinate her, or is trying to starve this world into submission. I can't think of another explanation… can you?"

He shook his head. "Not really, no. But it does raise the question of what we do next. Kamea's forward supply base is gutted, at least for now."

"Perhaps it's just as well," pointed out Sumire. "From a strategic perspective, I mean," she clarified, as he gave her a sharp glance. "We were pretty close to gutted, too."

Donavan grunted in agreement. The Catapult would be out of action for weeks and the Vindicator was gone until and unless they could get Capellan spares. The Centurion should be ready soon, at least, but that was three 'Mechs down needing a complete rebuild within just a couple of months. That was a brutal pace, and the injuries on their pilots were stacking up, too.

"Speaking of, we just got Lady Arano's next instructions and I wanted to get your thoughts on it."

"Sure," she replied casually, but was touched by his trust.

"We're abandoning the move on Smithon, at least for now. Instead, we're making a raid on Ryan's Fate."

"Never heard of it."

"Neither had I. It's a miserable planet coreward from here with a little mining and agriculture on it."

"Coreward? As in, the opposite direction from the capital? That's certainly a shift. Not sure what her plan is."

"Me either," said Donavan. "But hopefully that means Lord Espinosa and whoever else might be calling the shots over there doesn't see it coming, either."

January 31, 3026

Aurigan Directorate

Ryan's Fate

Dr. Murad had gotten some of the Mech Bays' automation systems online, and Yang was ecstatic with the results, which had gotten the Centurion and Catapult back up to full strength in the weeks it had taken to travel here.

Not that "here" amounted to much. Ryan's Fate was a hot, arid, thoroughly miserable rock in an equally miserable star system. Donavan didn't appreciate just how hot it was until they touched down on the planet.

The primary establishment was a mining facility which accessed a plentiful assortment of fissionable materials in the cracked, honeycombed crust of the planet.

Nobody was doing much mining at the moment, however, because the Wolves had the misfortune of landing in the midst of Ryan's Fate's short, intense rainy season. That made the intense heat unbearable by adding a dripping humidity to the mix. The shallow sea was flooding, which meant most of the miners were out harvesting the overflow of fish and planting in the flood plain. That provided most of the outpost's food, making it almost self-sufficient.

The locals, employees (and in a few cases, their kids) of the Aspero-Dinton Mining Corporation headquartered on far-off Mechdur, had been unimpressed when the mercenaries landed and pointed them towards the small governor's office.

The governor and his staff were recently arrived Espinosa appointees, and they had pulled down the flag and taken it with them into hiding down in the mining tunnels.

Farmboy and Medusa took the Locusts into the tunnels very cautiously to root them out again. It was slippery, dangerous work as flooding was a regular occurrence in the tunnels, but it also had to be done, and thankfully managed to do it without casualties.

With the flag raised on Ryan's Fate they waited for further instructions from Lady Arano, keeping the Locusts on the surface both to show the flag and give Farmboy more reps. Impatience and tempers were starting to rise by the time a Restoration DropShip arrived with a new leadership team for the outpost, sealed instructions for the Wolves, and a new passenger – Lord Alexander Madeira.

Donavan and Sumire went groundside to meet him in a dingy bar that was the outpost's main social gathering spot, and squelched their way through the torrential (and hot) rain to make it inside. Lord Madeira was already there at a back table and waved them over.

He was significantly less well put together than the last time they'd seen him, as he'd spent the last two weeks traveling in a cramped Leopard rather than Lady Kamea's bigger Union-class DropShips. That, and his clothes were still damp from the rain.

Donavan and Sumire hung up their jackets and joined Alexander at the table. "Welcome to Ryan's Fate, Lord Madeira. I confess, Sumire and I were surprised to learn you had come in person."

Alexander nodded, accepting a drink from the bartender. He sniffed it once, wrinkled his nose, then set it aside. "There has been a change of strategy, and this is part of it." He glanced at the surrounding tables that were paying them no mind, then leaned in a little closer. "Panzyr was a great victory, but also a costly one, as you know all too well. Lady Arano also now believes it is, shall we say, unlikely that the remaining Houses will simply join her in a groundswell movement."

Donavan nodded. "Since we aren't moving on the capital, what are we doing?"

"The Restoration forces must gather their strength. But the need to keep the pressure on is paramount. To that end, Lady Arano has tasked you to move on the virtually undefended coreward worlds bordering the Capellan Confederation and take them in sequence. In terms of the military equation, little will change, but the civilian population will see consistent, regular gains and the Directorate being powerless to stop it."

"They'd better be virtually undefended," responded Sumire frostily. "In each of our missions thus far we've had a lot of support from the main Restoration forces. It doesn't take all that much in the way of defenses to stop a single lance of 'Mechs if we have to walk straight into those defenses."

"True enough," replied Alexander cooly. "Which is why Lady Arano has tasked you with recovering the last of the Arano's 'Mech reserves from a hidden bunker on this planet, and has also assigned to you the Leopard I arrived in, the ACV Faragut, and its crew. That should allow you to deploy two lances at a time."

Donavan's eyebrows rose – that was a big commitment. "And how are you getting home then, if I may ask?"

"I'm afraid I, too, have been assigned by Lady Arano personally to advise you, given the greater independence you will be exercising in the coming months as you move across the coreward worlds."

"To advise us, you say?"

Alexander nodded. "Yes, Lord Melodan, to be painfully clear, I am to advise, not command."

"I understand and appreciate your candor, my Lord. We will be grateful for your expertise and advice in the weeks and months ahead. And now, if you don't mind, I am quite ready to be done with this planet. Shall we return to the Argo?"

Alexander gave the first genuine smile Donavan had ever seen from him. "Now that, Commander, is a truly excellent idea."

February 6, 3026

Aurigan Directorate

Coromodir VI

Victoria Espinosa prowled the hallways of the manor on Coromodir VI she had converted to her base of operations wishing yet again that it was a 'Mech Bay and she was getting ready to take down Kamea herself. The pacing was supposed to help moderate the fury building in her veins.

It didn't seem to be working. Probably, she guessed, because there were so many people deserving of that anger.

Kamea was at the top of the list, of course. Her cousin had turned her back on Victoria and her father, rejecting their urgent and honest advice at the critical moment when the fate of the Reach was on the line with a casual, smug, superiority and totally unearned assurance that she knew best despite all evidence to the contrary. Kamea was the one that forced their hand to protect their people! And then she had the audacity to return and launch a rebellion, killing the very people she and her father had just saved! And she had the lack of self-awareness, hell, the sheer gall, to proclaim her righteousness as she did it!

Victoria forced her grinding teeth to still and kept marching. Kamea wasn't the only one that infuriated her, oh no. She had plenty of anger for that prick Alexander Madeira, whispering lies in Kamea's ears as his family brazenly tried to play both sides, however much they denied it.

She paused as she reached an ornate fireplace overlooked by a finely carved and jewel-encrusted green-and-silver ibex of her house. There was one more source of her anger she could no longer avoid. The bitterness in her fury stemmed from another source – her father.

What happened to you, father? You were so bold, so right! But now…

There had been only hints at first. His instructions that Kamea be taken alive on the day of the coup. She'd gone along with it out of her trust in him, though subsequent events had proven him wrong. He'd refused to correct that mistake, and she'd had no choice but to try to right it herself. That had put her in touch with other like-minded generals in her command, who were prepared to do the things that needed to be done.

Then he'd been soft on the Houses even though he knew, in fact had explained to her, how the disloyalty of the Houses had caused the entire crisis in the first place. But had he held them responsible? No! Instead, he'd coddled them, rambling on about diplomacy and the wider picture. And he'd had a perfect opportunity to crush Kamea on Panzyr, but his misplaced reliance on House Decimis who took advantage of father's weakness, and his refusal to fully commit their forces, had turned a decisive victory into a major defeat.

Well, father keeps saying we can't move our main forces from the border with the Taurians or they'll take our worlds. But if the Taurains were focused elsewhere…