[Arthur Corean]
[Corean Enterprises]
[New Avalon, New Avalon System, Federated Suns]
[June 8th, 3028]

After the situation had cooled, the good Colonel of the Wolf's Dragoons and I got down to the actual 'business' section of our meeting. Some of the next hour was spent going over the particulars of the maintenance and repair contracts that the AFFS was footing the bill on for the Dragoon's 'Mechs and battlefield salvage, but once that was out of the way we could turn our focus onto his other serious matters. Said serious matter was his destroyed space station.

When the Dragoons had arrived in the Inner Sphere, they brought with them a very large, mobile space station— one of a type that the analysts of the Inner Sphere couldn't readily identify. Some analysts believed it to be a modified Hughes class space station, but for all of the similarities that the Dragoon's Hephaestus Station shared with the Hughes class, there were a lot of differences as well. That and the Hughes class was large, incredibly expensive, and very rare to see even during the height of the Star League; none of the Great Houses had ever constructed one, as it remained solely a product of the Terran Hegemony, and during the Amaris Coup what few there were that survived Rim Worlds captures were destroyed by the SLDF on their march to retake Terra. So with the handful of examples erased from existence and the station's creator— Superior Habitats Limited— among Amaris' dreadfully long list of KIA Hegemony corporations... what little information analysts had to work with was likely limited to whatever product brochures or old photographs could be found.

So it was no wonder Inner Sphere analysts were left scratching their heads when the Wolf's Dragoons set their station up above each world that served as their primary base of operations while they toured Great Houses for their mission. Hell, there was so little information on the Hughes class that even with my impressive intellect I'd be hard-pressed to connect the two designs together without foreknowledge... and even then the only 'confirmation' that I'd seen that Hephaestus Station was a Hughes class was from a sourcebook I didn't feel like paying for. Thank you, for providing me with that information.

In the end, Colonel Wolf, despite knowing that I knew his secret, remained more than a little tight-lipped about the station, so the best I could do was point out to him that recently all of the big names in Aerospace had gotten together and started working on creating new space station designs. Or at the very least working on revamping current space station designs while theorycrafting for new designs. I myself had a notebook filled with cool little designs that I'd begin exploring once I actually was qualified to build them, but I digress.

Ultimately, Wolf settled for telling me that after the Marik Civil War they'd learned not to put all of their eggs in one basket anymore, and that if contract negotiations went well with the soon-to-be Federated Commonwealth... he might be interested in looking into such a partnership; as far as the Inner Sphere was concerned the Dragoon's station was likely a one-of-a-kind relic from the Star League, but if there was going to be any way of creating a new one it would likely be with us rather than anyone else.

So with that out of the way, we could now finally focus on something that Colonel Wolf wanted to speak to me about: the offer I'd made a year ago for the Marauder II license.

"Only $200 million?" Colonel Wolf leaned back in his chair as he stroked his chin, "You offered $500 million just a year ago."

"That was before I had a chance to actually sit down and look over the design schematics of the standard GM Marauder chassis." I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged, "Once I realized that upscaling it to one hundred tons would be easier than I had initially anticipated... my desire and need to procure Blackwell's designs dropped significantly."

Seeing that this perturbed the leader, I quickly uncrossed my arms and held my hands up in a placatory fashion, "Make no mistake, this isn't me playing hard to get or trying to lowball you, this is merely the reality of the situation. The original GM Marauder chassis is actually quite robust to begin with, something you and Blackwell no doubt noticed already, hence why you decided to up-ton the Marauder to make the Marauder II. All it takes is a few dozen modifications and structural reinforcements and a seventy-five-ton frame is capable of supporting one hundred tons. I already have a small team working on making our own designs, so if we decided to purchase Blackwell's solution off the shelf then it would only speed up our development timetable by three months on the low end or six months on the high end."

Natasha snorted lightly as she swirled her drink around in her hand, "You seem to think pretty highly of your company, don't you?"

My eyes narrowed as I tilted my head, my hands coming down to rest in my lap. "I seem to recall the Marauder II's development cycle being rather short, no? A small corporation like Blackwell went from design schematics to brand new Marauder IIs rolling off the assembly line in just a hair over two years. So yes, if Blackwell could do it, then my team most certainly could make it happen within the same time frame... and if I was to inflict myself onto said team for an extended period of time then we could likely do it in less."

"Is that so?" Her flippancy irked me.

This whole time she'd been doing nothing but questioning both my integrity and my intelligence on practically every topic we discussed. It was aggravating as all hell, but it did allow me the opportunity to showcase that I was a man about my business. Yes, I did have the entire Pather Repair and Maintenance Manual, the English translation, memorized, and I could tell them exactly how long it would take to get a cored PNT-9R missing both arms back up and operational.

I don't know if she was intentionally aiming to get underneath my skin or if it was just part of her natural charm... but the Black Widow was certainly succeeding; most young Mechwarrior hopefuls only saw short shorts and the admittedly impressive cooling vest cleavage when looking at what few photos of Kerensky were out in circulation, but me?

I was getting treated to the whole package.

Do not want.

She tossed back her drink, her fourth one of the meeting, but she didn't stand up to get another. While Jamie leveled a reproachful look at her attitude, he didn't speak up or try to reign her in.

"Yes, it is. I've spent many years improving the quality as well as quantity of my engineers and designers within Corean Enterprises, and while we're only a few years into restructuring I can already tell that we are among the best the Inner Sphere has to offer. When everything is said and done? We'll be able to produce Battlemechs, Tanks, Aerospace Fighters, Dropships, and Jumpships that will redefine what is possible with modern engineering." I locked eyes with the woman, "Recreating a Battlemech already in production? That is child's play— I could do it in my sleep."

Her lips tilted into something of a smirk as she held the Henan crystal tumbler up to the light from the ceiling, "Spoken like a man who never actually designed an original Battlemech on his own."

"Biiiiiiiiiiitttttttttcccccccchhhhhhhhhhh."

Something could be heard audibly creaking in the room, but whether it was the noteputer in my hands or the Henan crystal tumbler in Natasha Kerensky's fingers I don't think anyone could say for sure. I'm sure Jamie looked like he was about to leap out of his chair, and his companion Major Blake was looking bamboozled, but at this moment in time, I only had eyes for Kerensky. Her smirk was frozen on her lips, but there was a slight flicker of surprise in her eyes.

Probably taken aback because who in their right mind would call Natasha Kerensky a bitch?

"I'd call myself the 'Natasha Kerensky of Science', but unlike you, I've never before been bested in my chosen field of expertise."

Me. Apparently.

Before her hand could leave the glass and head toward her pistol I straightened up in my chair.

"To prove this point and drive it home... I issue a formal Batchall, a scientific and manufacturing one if such a thing exists." I turned my gaze to Jamie Wolf and tilted my head, "They do such things in the Clans, yes?"

The Colonel took a sip of his drink before clearing his throat, "There... have been instances of work or manufacturing crews issuing similar trials to one another in terms of work efficiency and production value... but most of the results of those are kept in-house by the castes."

I nodded my head, "Very good then. For this challenge, I will design, construct, test, and have mass production taped out for a single brand-new Battlemech design in five years or less. I believe that with you, Captain Kerensky, as the challenged party... you would have the right to determine chassis type, tonnage, purpose, and budget for such a design?"

"Close enough. What are the consequences should you fail? More importantly... who is going to be the judge of this little competition?" She stood up, though her smirk was now replaced with something of a wolfish grin as she began pacing the length of the meeting room.

"As for the judges? I wanted you to be the judge, Captain. While this might be a challenge between you and me, I have enough measure of your character to believe you'll admit if a Battlemech I made met or exceeded your expectations." I sat my noteputer down and crossed my arms over my chest as I leaned back in the chair, "And as for the consequences of failure? Well, if I fail, then I'll release to your Blackwell Industries the full design schematics of the Battlemech... as well as all of the proprietary manufacturing techniques used to make it. Included in that will be all accompanying weapon and equipment designs and the tools necessary to reproduce them— so that Blackwell can 'fix' my mistakes and give the Battlemech to the Dragoons in a state that is 'fitting' for your purposes."

"So if you lose you get to foist onto us your failed 'Mech and make us work out the kinks, eh?" The scarlet-haired Mechwarrior huffed as she tapped her fingers along the crystal in her hands. "Though I will say that your weapons have surprised me; even if the Metal sucks, having a license to produce our own half-ton Medium Lasers..."

Heh. Everyone loves the half-ton Medium Lasers.

Her booted footsteps on plush carpet stopped as she looked at me queerly, "Such a large prize would demand something of equal value... what would you seek in return?"

In the recesses of my mind, I momentarily humored the thought of spinning a yarn about how the Marauder and Catapult were my two favorite Battlemechs and how I always wanted to know what it would look like if the two fell in love, got together, and had a baby. However, that would not only be childish, but it would run counter to what I was trying to build up with the Dragoons at this juncture; it's why I didn't ask them what the weather was like on Strana Mechty. So I balled up that train of thought and booted it to the side.

"The same for the Timberwolf," I stated plainly and without preamble. "My source for my... Clan Intelligence... stated that the Timberwolf was one of the best Battlemechs produced by the Clans and was a highly sought-after prize for any Clan's Touman."

I looked between the three Clan Wolf Mechwarriors, noting the tension in their postures and terse expressions. "After all, if I'm going to build a ground-breaking machine for the Wolf's Dragoons and offer it up as the prize for a loss... I'm going to expect a ground-breaking machine as... Isorla in return."

"It appears that your source has given you quite a lot of insight into our ways, Mister Corean," Colonel Wolf's gaze was rather frosty as he interlaced his fingers around his tumbler— the man leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on top of the table. "You believe that this Battlemech of yours will be... worthy of having Clan technologies put up as a prize?"

My thoughts unbidden flashed to a certain pigtailed, big-titted glasses-wearing schoolgirl.

"I don't know or claim to know everything there is about the Clans, Colonel Wolf. I only know what I know. However, let me put it to you like this: I have been studying, absorbing, and applying everything I can put my hands on... and I've been doing it for a very long time." I looked to Natasha, "Those half-weight Medium Lasers? I designed those when I was sixteen. The half-weight Small Lasers only a few months later. The Large Laser and PPC came while I was attending university at NAIS, and the improved Autocannons I designed two years ago and some change. The new automated manufacturing lines that my company is implementing in all of our current and future factories? I cracked those Star League secrets over the course of a few summers while attending university classes."

Movement pulled my attention to Major Blake, who was dutifully typing away at his noteputer... likely taking the 'minutes' and documenting the terms of this Batchall.

"And in the past few years, I have recreated a number of lost technologies and created numerous new processes through my own merits and efforts." I held up a hand and began ticking fingers while silently apologizing to Hanse and my soon-to-be Wife, "Star League Double Heatsinks, of which the Federated Suns will be mass producing within the next twelve to twenty-four months. Endosteel, which I am already producing and am in the process of improving. Ferro Fibrous armor, much the same."

"In the time it took me to get from the Zenith jump point of my Ducal seat to planetfall I created a new missile system that mates and improves the guidance and tracking of the Arrow-IV, Artemis-IV, and Streak systems into a single package. A package that fires standard LRM and SRM munitions as well as heavily improved Viper specific Long and Short range missiles... while still cutting significant size and mass compared to Inner Sphere LRM packs." I ticked two more fingers before tilting my head to the side, "And mind you I did this while in the bays of a dropship with only the tools I brought with me and using a single example of each system for me to work on."

"And while I was on-planet, I designed new agricultural robots using the experience of the farmers and Astechs there for guidance." I held up another hand to keep on ticking away, "Then when I came back I decided to build a civilian vehicle for the markets because I thought I could do better. And, and, and... there are some technologies that I've developed that I can't rightly tell you lest my Prince tear strips from my ass, but needless to say I've personally contributed a lot to the development of the technologies that will return a great deal of prosperity to the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth."

I shook my head lightly while putting my hands down in my lap, "So yes, while the Clans have had centuries of advancement I firmly believe that my Battlemech will be worthy of some Clan Wolf technologies. Besides, I am already looking into my examples of the Mercury Battlemech, so I'll develop something comparable to the Omnipod technology anyway; it's only a matter of when."

"Very well informed indeed." Colonel Wolf's lips twitched minutely, "And I don't suppose that you'll tell me where exactly you found an intact Mercury for study? Those have been extinct in the Inner Sphere for centuries."

"No, unfortunately, you'll just have to guess. I'm sure your WolfNet will be rather busy in the future—" Another twitch, "—But I would recommend that your spies be both delicate and discreet. You're not going to want to ruin your relationship by leaning into MIIO... or any spies you might have in my facilities, Colonel Wolf."

The poor man looked like he was going to have a brain aneurysm, so to relieve him I shrugged and held my hands up. "I'm just telling you, some forewarning, between future companions. I don't want there to be anything negative between you and me, or you and the Federated Suns."

"Your concern is noted and... appreciated."

"Oh, come off, Colonel, don't act like everyone doesn't already know that Wolfnet has penetrated every Great House Intelligence agency. It's one of the things that makes Wolfnet famous, after all." It took great effort to resist the temptation to roll my eyes, but I managed.

Barely.

He's really playing this whole thing up; if he didn't want his intelligence service to be known then he shouldn't have made them famous. Though their fame and hefty payouts is likely what helps attract informants to begin with. I just didn't want him activating informants in my plants.

"Regardless, we're getting far off track here." I snapped my fingers lightly once and only once, and any more would be rude, "I am certain that my Battlemech and its accompanying technologies will be more than equal to the technologies that I could glean from the Timberwolf and its equipment."

Despite her CO's short-lived lack of composure, Kerensky herself watched the proceedings as cool as a cucumber. "Well, if you're so sure, then I don't see a problem with it. However, loading everything on my shoulders is a bit much, so I'll delegate the grading of the Battlemech to a panel of Dragoon Mechwarriors who will be unaware of the stakes. It will be an 'Aff' or 'Neg' on whether or not it passes muster."

I could see the gears turning behind her eyes and see her reasoning— gambling away Clan equipment likely wouldn't be seen in a good light in general, but if it was all placed on her shoulders? Not even her reputation or rank could save her from the scorn, however, if the load was more distributed?

"Very well then... though I don't think you have the right to ask that when I challenged you personally, I don't see it as an unreasonable request. However, the only opinion I care about is yours, Captain. Even if it 'loses' and I have to give it all up... as long as it exceeds your expectations it'll be a win for me."

The Captain and I were having a bit of a moment as we locked eyes and stared each other down, but being the LAM pilot that he is, Major Stanford Blake had to make it all awkward and shit.

"So even if you lose your Mech and the accompanying technologies to Blackwell, as long as Captain Kerensky here approves you'll consider it your victory? You will lose your rights to the 'Mech..."

I couldn't stop myself from doing a bit of a double-take, and I blinked a few times before staring at the man. "This isn't about the technology, Major Blake. I think I've firmly established that I don't need the Clan's technology; I can be an innovative person and do science all by myself. This is about my pride as a builder and creator. I can and will build a machine that will make Natasha Kerensky admit defeat, even if only in private."

Seriously, who would have thought that out of all of the people here the only person in the room who'd understand my motivations would be Natasha herself.

"Heh. I like that look in your eyes, Mister Corean." Natasha slowly lowered herself back into her seat before putting her boots up, and what followed was a rapid-fire question/answer session.

"So, anything I want?"

"Anything you want."

"Cost limitations?"

"Budget or bespoke. I'd prefer bespoke because there is much more I can do with that, but if you want a budget machine that will 'Wow' you then I can do that too. Just be mindful that I will be forced to play within structural and mass restrictions."

"Nah, that wouldn't be any fun; no limits it is. But be mindful that when a girl sees a big price tag she'll have high expectations."

"Noted."

"Bipedal or Quad?"

"I despise Quads, I'll have you know. It's why I sold off the Goliath lines in the Free Worlds League the moment I had a chance; hated those stupid things."

"Quad-mech it is."

"It'll be wolf-themed then. I've been told that the Clans have something called 'totem 'mechs'; once I get through with building whatever the hell this thing will be I'm sure even your Khan will want one."

"A wolf-themed 'Mech for Clan Wolf? Daring, I see."

"Would you prefer it be something else? A Sea Fox, perhaps?"

"Over my dead body. Just for that, you're going to make that Quad-Mech a forty-tonner; see if you can do something actually impressive with that weight bracket."

Bitch.

"A wolf-themed forty-ton Quad 'Mech. Anything else? Role? Weapons? Missiles? Pinpoint energy fire support? Lasers? Autocannon?"

Her lips twitched, "An autocannon? On a forty-tonner? Even I'm not that petty; you wouldn't have mass left for anything else. No. A Command Mech with direct-fire energy support capacity; a PPC is preferable, but I'll settle for one or two of those Enhanced Large Lasers of yours."

I mentally tallied up everything we discussed before I smiled as though butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. "You know I'm going to call it the 'Command Wolf', right?"

"I'd be insulted if you didn't."

At that point I stood up and walked in front of her, the woman mirroring me. "So we are in agreement then: I will build an original design from the ground up using advanced Corean technologies that will be deliverable no later than June 8th, 3033. It will be a Quad 'Mech, mass forty tons, have functional capacity as a Command Battlemech with all of the accouterments that one might expect from such a machine, with an Enhanced PPC as its preferred standard armament. Its 'official' Win-condition is that of a panel of Dragoon Mechwarriors who will blindly vote on adoption into the Wolf's Dragoons Touman on an 'Aff'/'Neg' basis."

"And the Isorla as the stakes for this are the respective designs for the machines as well as their accompanying technologies."

Kerensky and I were standing so close we might have been kissing if it wasn't for the fact that I was tall and she was smol.

Heh. Smolrensky.

"I am satisfied with the conditions of this Batchall. What say you?"

"Aff."

She grasped my forearm, something that caught me off guard enough that I almost forgot the most important part of this whole ordeal, and shook it firmly.

"Bargained well and done."

"Bargained well and done."

"It has been witnessed." Colonel Wolf spoke up as he stood on his feet and squeezed past us, "I think... that I'll take another drink to celebrate the occasion."

Woah there, don't drink too much, it wouldn't look good if whatever conversation we had got you sloshed before you even met with the First Prince... ah, shit.

I'll need to turn the MIIO listening devices back on.

[Samantha Sterling]
[2 Hours Earlier]

"I beg your pardon? What do you mean you can't hear anything?" Samantha Sterling hissed lowly into her mobile as she stalked across the small Expo, the woman easily slipping in and around the few guests as she made her way toward the front entrance.

"I mean exactly what I said, Ma'am. Mister Corean has kept the video feed running, but cut audio. The door is likewise locked but I can override it; I'm already moving a team set up shop outside the door just in case something happens." The security officer reported, "Though before he cut the audio he sent a text message."

"And that message was?"

"'Trust me.'"

That man! Sam fought down the urge to groan in aggravation and instead smoothed over her features as she drew more than a few eyes with her fast-paced walk. "Very well then. Keep me apprised. I'm sure you'll know what to do if something happens?"

"Aye, Ma'am. The team is already set up on the doors and ready to breach at a moment's notice. We won't let anything happen to the Boss on our watch."

"Thank you." The retired MIIO Agent hung up and strolled out of the multi-purpose building and down the red-carpeted steps where an electric cart was waiting for her.

The young man behind the wheel seemed to be staring at the plastic card holder hanging from a lanyard around his neck, but when he saw her approach he immediately straightened up. "A-ah, Miss Sterling! Where to?"

"The Admin building if you would." She replied smoothly as she settled into the seat behind him.

There was a reason she wasn't making a beeline to the security office to oversee the proceedings there, and that reason came in the form of an uninvited guest— one claiming to need to see the First Prince for a planetary emergency no less. Of course, the First Prince's security team and the MIIO staffers were already conducting a thorough check of this 'Christine Salos', but given this was Corean Enterprises and the campus was closed to anyone not on the approved guest list... it meant that she would need permission from someone high up on the Corean food-chain to be allowed further than the front doors. Since Samantha was going to be Lady Corean in just a few short months she was certainly high enough to make this judgement call.

However, as Christine Salos is the Heiress to a Duchy within the Federated Suns she couldn't be detained and interrogated unduly, not even by MIIO. There were customs and courtesies to be observed, and being both former MIIO still in the Prince's confidence as well as a fellow Lady, it fell to Samantha to handle the interview. Of course, they could simply direct her to the Prince's palace where she would be received and quartered as befit her station, but that would mean waiting anywhere from weeks to potentially months before she could see the First Prince... even if her situation was a planetary emergency. When it came to the nobility some were not shy about classifying every problem as such an emergency, though usually if it warranted a Noble traveling to New Avalon to seek an audience with the First Prince in person it usually was something grave.

Yet with over 500 systems and 100 nobles who held the title of Duke— and thus the right to petition the First Prince directly on behalf of their lower nobles— it meant that at any given time there could be fifteen to thirty nobles housed within the New Avalon palace waiting their turn. However, if Miss Salos is deciding to break protocol by skipping ahead in the line— seeking out the First Prince directly— then her situation must be quite dire. Or she is merely a young fool who was improperly educated or doesn't believe that protocols apply to her.

Given the current state of the Federated Suns' nobility, it could be either, but since the woman was already here and up until a few minutes ago Samantha was not currently engaged in anything important... it fell to her to conduct the initial interview before informing the Prince; he was ultimately the one who decided what was and wasn't worth his time.

After arriving at the Primary Administrative Complex a Corean Security officer greeted her at the side door and escorted her through to one of the more upscale 'waiting rooms' for more distinguished guests. It was in truth a security holding room, but with all of the lavish furniture, paintings, and sculptures of Corean Battlemechs and vehicles dotted throughout one would hardly know it. Coraline Gates, one of the half-dozen MIIO representatives that could be found within the Admin complex, was there to greet her with a noteputer in hand; once the security officer returned to his post in the room down the hall the younger woman gave Samantha a brief-rundown on their guest.

What Samantha was told raised an eyebrow.

Gulkana V, of the Gulkana system in the Cruicis March, was an arid world that had a low gravity and very low surface water content; it was essentially a single landmass, a supercontinent, that dominated over 70% of the planet's surface area. Of the 30% of the planet's surface that was water, half of that was a singular in-land sea with a salinity too high to support life, and the other half was spread across hundreds of freshwater rivers and lakes dotting the thick, lush jungles that spanned the planet's equator. It was within that narrow, 79-kilometer-wide band where the majority of the planet's inhabitants lived despite the high 35-degree centigrade temperatures; however, due to the mineral-rich spires that could be easily mined out in the deserts, there were still hundreds of thousands of humans who lived in mining communities outside of the jungles.

It was thanks to those mining communities that the industries of Gulkana V could thrive, with a large amount of the raw materials being transported to other manufacturing systems within the Federated Suns. The planet had little in the way of major 'Heavy Industry' to make it important enough for the whole of the Federated Suns to take notice of, but it did have one company that was strategically important, and that company was the Yeffters Weapons Corporation. They had a rather narrow product portfolio: all the flavors of Myrdon Autocannons, from the Class 2 up to Class 20 classifications and the Myrdon Minigun.

Their issue was that they were too far from either the Combine or Capellan fronts to warrant an AFFS posting and too lightly populated compared to its surrounding worlds to warrant a March Militia posting... but they were just close enough to Skid Row and the Outback to see routine bandit and pirate raids.

"—And it wasn't as though the raids were the problem, as we had never failed to beat off any interlopers before they could complete their objectives... but the nobility's 'apathy' toward modernizing our militia's equipment was the last straw. Or so he said." The Heiress to the Duchy of Gulkana sneered into the wine glass held carefully in her fingers. "So four years ago... almost to the day in fact, he and his men assassinated Count Stallingsworth and the entire Command Staff of the planetary militia... before marching their tanks and what few Battlemechs we have toward the Parliament where he summarily disbanded them and declared himself the ruler of Gulkana."

Samantha wrote down a few words on her noteputer before turning her eyes back to the younger woman. "And the 'He' in question was this... Captain Thomas Yarborough?"

The retired MIIO Agent could see the woman's posture shift as her face went through a variety of expressions before settling into an odorous glower. "Yes."

It was good that despite her situation the woman seemed to know better than to direct her anger toward Samantha; while she was the Heiress to a Duchy, that only put her on the same level as Samantha herself... though if the full propriety of FedSuns noble law was to be observed she would be lower in the hierarchy. Samantha was to be a System Duchess while Christine Salos would one day become a Planetary Duchess. It was a small distinction, but not insignificant.

And so the interview went, for nearly a whole hour.

The now self-proclaimed 'General Yarborough' had ruled the world for four years while completely unopposed by the thirteen local nobles— the Barons and Counts placated by the promise of the General observing their titles, rights, and land holds— though it was likely more because of what happened to Count Stallingsworth that quashed any opposition. The first year had been rather business as usual, but after the honeymoon period was over the General began instituting a number of policies which had proved to be unpopular. Not only was he mucking around in the affairs of the nobles, but he was making sweeping changes in the realms of education and employment with 'IQ Tests' being his weapon.

Children were tested at age ten, and those who scored lowly on these tests were barred from seeking anything higher than elementary education before being shuffled off to the mining towns as laborers at the age of sixteen. Likewise, all adults were tested, and regardless of whether or not they were competent in their profession, if they didn't score appropriately they were forcibly removed from their employment and placed elsewhere. However, these tests were given yearly and at random, so if a citizen did well on the test the previous year, if they didn't perform as well on the next test they were hauled off to where the General's 'Workforce Placement Specialists' thought they could best serve.

Christine Solas had taken refuge in her plant, as she was the CEO of Yeffters Weapons Corporation, and had been unwilling to leave ever since General Yarborough's 'ascension' as the planet's dictator.

"—My workforce has been steadily being chipped away at, and we are in danger of being forced to close our lines entirely. We're barely at 50% operational capacity, and the only saving grace is that our only current customer is Federated-Boeing... and their orders for our Autocannons are small enough that we can shuffle our employees around to meet their obligations."

This was the third time that the young woman had circled back to her corporation without giving Samantha anything new to work with.

So she decided to poke her.

"Apologies, Lady Solas, but are you here on behalf of the people of Gulkana or on behalf of Yeffters Weapons?"

Christine recoiled so hard that she almost spilled her wine, but rather than righteous indignation like Samantha would have expected... the woman's expression was despondent. "I... I can only truly tell you about the state of the corporation, I'm afraid. I have heard that the General seeks to wed me, to take me as his wife and legitimize his coup through marriage, so I have remained safe behind the walls of my compound. I can only tell you what my employees relay to me on the goings on outside."

Or perhaps he had a good enough read on Christine to know that if he circulated such rumors she would retreat behind her walls and thus isolate herself from the populace. Either option would be preferable for him, as if he kept the Heiress cut-off for long enough the common man or woman might soon forget what it was like to live under a regime that was not his own. However, Samantha knew little of Thomas Yarborough and didn't have anything to corroborate her suppositions, but what she did know was that the man was skilled and charismatic enough to rally the Militia behind him.

"Gulkana falls within the Remagen Administrative Region, under the Edgeward Alpha Combat Theater... which is Duke Horatio Barcelona's area of responsibility. Why are you here and not him?" Samantha leaned back in her chair and used the tip of her stylus to scratch at an itch in the forest of red curls upon her crown, "More to the point, why hasn't your father, the Duke of Gulkana, requested aid to have this usurpation handled?"

The Heiress poured herself another glass of wine from a bottle on the table next to her plush chair, "The militia holds tight control over the planet's two spaceports and... according to some reports I've heard General Yarborough has managed to cow our HPG into silence. While I haven't spoken to him personally, I do know people who have, and Precentor Roberts believes that if he goes against the General's commands then no one would be able to save them."

It took every shred of self-control Samantha had to not let her sudden interest in the conversation show.

Just two short years ago the MIIO Agent would have simply nodded her head and found it wholly believable that a Class B Precentor would keep his head low to spare his employees from the sword, however, knowing what she knew now about Comstar's ability to craft intricate conspiracies? It was highly likely that they were— if not directly involved— playing their part as the helpless HPG operators in order to sow discord and discontent. She just needed something that could provide confirmation...

"And how exactly did General Yarborough manage to cow the nobility in the first place? As far as I know, there are only two companies of Battlemechs on the planet, and aside from the... late General of the Militia and the stolen Battlemech from the Count when he was assassinated, he wouldn't have had enough tanks or infantry to meaningfully threaten the nobility." She just needed to tie in the leading question, which might hopefully jog the woman's memory. "Did he confiscate their Battlemechs or... did he suddenly come into the possession of previously unknown Battlemechs?"

The younger woman's wineglass was halfway to her lips before it was paused. "Yes... actually, he did. A whole demi-Company of Battlemechs that looked to be in good repair, as well as an additional company of armor. Um... tanks and missile carriers I believe?"

That would be more than enough to ensure the nobles kept to their side of the fence; near-parity in Battlemechs while being overmatched with the addition of Armor would certainly fit the bill.

Still, it wasn't enough detail, so Samantha tilted her head and arched an eyebrow, "Go on."

Christine's cheeks flushed a deep purple, and it wasn't from the wine. "I... am not well-versed in the realms of combat or machinery; I was raised to run the Duchy and the family business while my brother was trained to take over the defense of the realm. So I do not know if I can provide much more detail unless you show me photo-stills and I can compare."

"And with your brother not here…" The red-head brought the end of the stylus up to her lips, though was surprised to see the other woman's sheepish expression immediately turn sour.

"My brother was among the Command Staff that was executed by that man…"

"You have my condolences," Samantha murmured as she placed her heel against the bottom leg of her chair where it triggered a switch, and she spoke out loud. "Coraline, if you would please have a complete Technical Readout Annex for the year 3025 brought to me. Also, bring something light for lunch as well."

While she was at it, Samantha typed into her Pad to prod the Security team, and was displeased to learn that her Arthur was still chatting with the Dragoons.

That man!

After an hour of flipping through the TRO and enduring the Heiress's indecision about which BattleMechs and combat vehicles the General had paraded—whether it was a Scorpion or a Manticore, or if the missile carrier was equipped with LRMs or SRMs—Miss Sterling finally pieced together something useful. The process was exasperating, but in the end, she managed to compile enough information to present to the First Prince.

It was baffling that someone involved in running a military corporation could be so poorly informed about their own products and the equipment shaping the battlefields of the Inner Sphere.

Regardless, what she learned was helpful enough.

The Militia's armor billets were primarily filled with Tiger medium tanks, along with Goblins, Pintels, Scorpions, and tracked Heavy/Light APCs. It had two companies of missile support in the form of an LRM company as well as an SRM company that was provided by the Quicksell Corporation; Martin VTOLs along with a squadron of Mech Buster air-breathing fighters rounded out their aerial complement. Given they were a conventional Regiment in strength this was rather exceptional for a Militia force, but the addition of two companies of Manticores, a lance of Demolisher Heavy Tanks, and a mixed Demi-company of Battlemechs ranging from light to heavy... it drastically upped the militia's threat level.

However, none of these additions were outside of what would be expected in a Federated Suns unit. This meant that either Comstar was being careful to not reveal their hand in this plot... or that the individual or group aiding General Yarborough was of Federated Suns origin. It was something that Samantha could puzzle over later after she handed off what she had collected to the First Prince's retinue.

"Do you think that the Prince will aid us?" The younger woman's voice was soft, but there was a small bit of hope that could be heard within her tone.

"That I do not know. The First Prince is powerful, but there are numerous laws that protect a planet's right to self-governance." Samantha held up a hand to forestall the Heiress' complaints, "Yes. Even in circumstances such as these. The laws are there to protect systems and planets from overreach by any First Prince, and truth be told... as it stands now, unless your father specifically requests assistance with this matter I do not see how the AFFS could intervene."

The henan crystal of the wine glass clinked against the table as the younger woman shot to her feet. "Then what was the point!? Of stuffing myself into a container and smuggling myself off-world?! Of enduring the indignities of traveling in a steel box and... and defecating in a cassette toilet!? Of eating those terrible military rations and enduring the God-awful singing of the Dropship crews!? Months I spent living inside of a steel container all by myself... with only a handful of books to keep me occupied. Was it all for nothing?"

Samantha took the outburst in stride and stood up so that she could wrap her arms around the younger woman's shoulder and pull her in close for a warm hug. "No, my dear, it wasn't for nothing."

Warm, salty tears wetted the fabric of her coat as the Heiress of Gulkana sniffled, "Then what am I to do?"

"You're going to do what I do whenever I feel like I've come across a problem that I can't solve on my own..." The former MIIO Agent stroked Christine's back soothingly, "We'll go talk to my husband."

Christine Solas sniffed once more. "And the First Prince?"

Samantha huffed, "And maybe the First Prince. I won't speak for him, but I think that this situation would be something he might think is worthy of his direct attention. Now, come with me, and let's get your hair and make-up fixed. Wouldn't want to walk about with running mascara, would we?"

If there was someone who knew what could be done about this situation then it would be Arthur.

And speaking of her husband... while one of the Corean ladies was helping re-do the Heiress' make-up, Samantha decided to check in on him. The former MIIO Agent traveled through the Corean Admin complex with an ease borne from intimate familiarity, and after scanning herself through a half-dozen security checkpoints she was admitted into one of the security centers on the fifth floor. As if the Corean security officers had divined her intentions before she arrived, the feed from the Expo hall was pulled up.

It was still silent for the moment, but she could clearly see Arthur chatting with Colonel Wolf and Captain Natasha Kerensky; the other man was unknown to her outside of his name and rank, one Major Stanford Blake. It appeared as though she had come in right at the tail end of their conversation, as Arthur was now on his feet and stuffing his hands into the hidden panel on the wall... and within moments sound had been restored.

"—Ister Corean..." Colonel Wolf's voice filtered in through the speakers, "You said you'd take the Marauder II plans for two hundred million? I think we'll take that offer."

Her man, the loveable oaf that he was, seemed a touch shocked, but he nodded all the same. "Oh. Okay then. Two hundred million it is. I suppose that would be a very nice downpayment on some of your big-ticket items. Have someone from Blackwell take a trip out here at their convenience and we'll hash out the legal paperwork."

The two men shook on it, and Arthur leaned in close to whisper something to Colonel Wolf... but the room's listening devices were just sensitive enough to pick it up.

"Oh, and Colonel Wolf? One last word of kindness from me... I know that you and Cranston Snord are still chummy with one another. I also know that he's sitting on top of a Castle Brian and that he found some rather interesting LosTech on Phecda. Equipment that I'm highly certain he didn't report to Archon Steiner. I don't know if he's found any other interesting goodies, but I don't think I need to tell you that it would be best to come clean and get ahead of this situation, yeah?"

Colonel Wolf's smile was as tight as it was brittle, "Your generosity knows no bounds, Mister Corean. I will keep this in mind for the future."

Arthur smiled back broadly, "Anything for a customer... and a friend."

"Get your men back to their posts, Captain. Quickly now." Samantha directed, and with a single radio call she watched the security team on the monitors melt away and out of sight just before the door opened and Arthur strode out followed by the Dragoons.

While the Dragoons seemed none the wiser about the strike team that had been camped out on their figurative front doorstep, she knew that her hubby knew as he playfully waggled his fingers at one of the cameras before blowing it a kiss.

Someone in the security pit chortled to themselves, "Oh? A kiss for me? Mister Corean, you know I'm happily married-hrk!"

Someone quickly shoved an elbow into the offender.

[Arthur Corean]

I had a lot on my plate today, but as busy as I was when a peer from New Avalon asked to speak with me I wouldn't turn her away; Countess Rodina Achernar was a gem of a woman and someone who had been a rather close friend of my mother. For all our companies competed with one another in the realm of business, the ladies of the realm certainly knew how to network and find time to gossip at all of the noble parties that I'd managed to get out of... most of the time. Despite my best efforts to stay buried in my schoolwork to avoid the swanky galas, my mother still somehow found a way to guilt me into a fancy suit to schmooze with the upper crust of Federated Suns society.

Still, I have to admit that her inflicting the posh nobility upon me had its benefits, as I doubt that I would have been able to gather as much support from my fellow industrialists without having rubbed elbows with them a time or two.

With the heat from my final conversation with Natasha Kerensky finally cooling, I was suddenly feeling rather sheepish. There were very few situations where I couldn't maintain control of my temper and tongue, but something about her just managed to push my buttons. That I'd issued the equivalent of a scientific 'Batchall' just made the whole situation even more absurd— doubly so since the woman who'd determine if the design was 'good enough' to satisfy the requirements for my victory was the very opponent I had set out to defeat!

This whole competition hinged directly on how honorable the Dragoons could be, and given how well they had adapted to life in the Inner Sphere— complete with all of the underhandedness and perfidy required to thrive in this environment... I could quite possibly win but still lose.

Yet... despite that, I couldn't deny that there was no small bit of excitement that thrummed within my very core at the challenge, and it was a challenge. For all my bluster I hadn't actually designed a Battlemech from the ground up before; I had only truly played around in someone else's 'playground', and finding ways to improve someone else's designs was far easier than making my own. However, given the Dragoons were Clanners and they loved their Totem Mechs, I felt I had the perfect inspiration!

I just needed Hanse to give me leave to move some heavy equipment into one of New Avalon's Terran Animal preserves and kidnap... er... temporarily appropriate some actual wolves for study. A Beagle Active probe, some motion capture harnesses, obstacle courses, and skeletons would go a long way to making the Command Wolf a machine that would be unparalleled with its fluidity and movement profile. My weapons, structural enhancements, and other technologies would give it both the flexibility and lethality needed to make such design restrictions worth it.

Ugh. A 40-tonner and a Quad'Mech? Why did I have to antagonize her!?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I maneuvered myself through the halls of my company's little expo center and found meeting room 4A. The doors I could see were open with a pair of large, burly-looking men standing outside, and while they were both dressed well in fancy suits I could tell they weren't together given the differences in material, cut, and colors; both I observed had the Achernar 'Star' as their suit's cufflinks.

After giving the men a brief nod I passed by the pair without a word.

Rodina Achernar, still a lovely-looking woman despite being in her early sixties, was seated on a long, C-shaped couch; a small, circular coffee table in the center of the gap with coffee and cakes resting on its surface. Her brown hair was done up beautifully with a fine gold chain net over her bun with the Achernar 'Stars' dangling and catching the light. Her sky-blue dress was conservative, rather common among the Federated Suns' nobility, but there was a definite dip at the front that showed off a respectable amount of cleavage and decolletage. White silk gloves covered her hands up to her elbows, and just barely visible underneath the hem of her dress were a pair of open-toed heels in shiny black leather.

She was engaged in a low conversation with another woman, but given her body language and 'politically polite' smile— her hands laid out on the topmost knee of her crossed legs— it was likely nothing too stimulating. The other woman was a blonde who was very attractive, easily a cover model for any FedSuns fashion magazine, with warm honey eyes and plush ruby-red lips. Her red dress was a little more daring, with it cut just above the knees to show off the plumpness of her thighs, and black stockings accentuated the shapeliness of her calves while her black heels had some serious 'lift' to them. No doubt her ass would 'pop' with those three-inch heels, but they were hardly suitable for walking around.

Standing dutifully behind Countess Achernar was Selena Arrapado, the woman whom I knew to be the future 'Countess Achernar' and CEO of Achernar Battlemechs and all of its numerous divisions; the wedding had been finalized and I had received an invitation to attend the Spring of 3029. She was a choice little woman with tanned skin, raven black hair, and hazel eyes, with a fine figure. Her hair was done up in a beautiful bun, but the black suit she wore— in a men's cut and complete with black leather gloves no less— gave me some serious 'Saber' vibes.

"I ask of thee, art thou my Manufacturing Partner?"

The thought almost made me snort, but I managed to school my features back to my normal GQ Model-esque 'Soul-gazing' stare; not only did it make me look and feel suitably mysterious, but it got my fiance's pussy nice and wet, and that alone made all of the hours of practicing it in my youth worth the effort!

"Ah, hello Arthur dear~," Countess Achernar cooed as she raised her gloved hands toward me, and I strode over, bending double so that she could wrap her arms around my neck and place some kisses against my cheeks. "Thank you for joining me."

I kissed her cheeks right back before righting myself, "Well, when my dear Countess Achernar calls I know better than to make her wait."

A small huff of laughter escaped her, and though she tried to hide behind her gloved hand I could see her cheeks color beautifully, "Oh Arthur, you flatterer~."

I looked at Miss Selena and nodded to her in acknowledgment before taking a seat right next to Countess Achernar, making myself comfortable before turning my attention to my guest.

My uninvited guest.

I would know, because I'd made the list myself, and nowhere on it was this beautiful blonde woman.

"And who might you be?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as I threw an arm over the back of the couch.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Corean. I am Christine Solas, the Heiress to the Duchy of Gulkana and the CEO of the Yeffters Weapons Corporation." Pearly white teeth were revealed as the woman stood up from her chair and leaned over the center table between us with a hand outstretched.

Yeffters was a very small weapons manufacturer in the Crucis March, one who solely manufactured Myrdon Autocannons for various Fed Suns corporations that used them. Even Corean Enterprises did short-term contract work under my father as a stop-gap measure when there were slow-downs. However, under my tenure we stopped renewing these short-term contracts entirely simply because we didn't need them anymore— Corean was more than capable of producing all of the weapons we need right now, and in the future, our overflow will be more than enough to stock the warehouses of military and resellers all over the Federated Commonwealth.

I gave her hand a polite if weak shake, "Charmed, Miss Solas. Though not to sound trite, I don't remember your name being on the guest list; this is supposed to be a rather exclusive event."

Her smile faltered immediately, "I... will admit that I was not on the Guest List, as you say, but I was invited inside by—"

"Me, Arthur." My darling Samantha's voice was a touch frosty, which told me that my foot was hovering right over an unseen minefield; it would be up to me on whether or not I'd step in it.

I turned my head to see my fiance, clad in a flattering scarlet business suit and skirt combination with gold threading, flow into the room with a small trolly being pushed ahead of her; a slight clattering of silverware on fine porcelain chittering in my ears. She parked the cart and began unlimbering its burden of cakes and a coffee pot with cups and saucers. "I invited her inside, and seeing as she has had a rather trying experience as of late I felt as though she would prefer some company with Countess Achernar and myself while she waited for the First Prince to see her."

She handed me a saucer and cup, my brew black and lifeless since I wasn't taking cream and sugar to stay on top of my diet and training regimen, before fixing herself a cup and taking a seat next to the Duchy Heiress with a coffee cake in front of her knees. "She has a rather unique situation— one that could be quite problematic if not handled properly."

"Well if you're in need of solutions, then you've come to the right place." I pulled my foot away from the figurative explosives and gave Christine a sly smile. "You'll find that I'm always chock full of surprises."

The small smile I got in return was a touch shakey, "I don't know... I feel like I've had enough surprises over the past few years to last me a lifetime. However, given the circumstances, I don't know if I have any other options available to me."

I arched an eyebrow.

Woman, your system is in the heart of the Crucis March, what problems could you possibly have that would—?

After listening to her story, about the usurpation of her whole planet and her father's lack of response to the coup, it turns out she could have a whole lot of problems.

It was nice to know that I wasn't the only one shocked because Rodina was right there with me, the woman sliding closer around the C-shaped couch to embrace the young beauty. "Oh dearie, how absolutely dreadful!"

While the New Avalon Countess and my wife-to-be consoled the Heiress, I leaned back in my seat with my coffee cup perched just a hair away from my lips. The black brew was cold by now, but while I wasn't one to shy away from cold coffee since I wasn't a primadonna, its smooth surface seemed to act as an excellent focusing aid for me as I mentally envisioned a map of the Crucis March on the dark liquid. It was five jumps at a bare minimum from New Avalon if one took the most direct route, which put it astrographically close to the capital of the Federated Suns, but much like Petrolia astrographic proximity did not automatically denote development, wealth, prosperity, or security. Especially since it was the same number of jumps from Remagen, the capital system of the Remagen Administrative Zone for the Crucis March.

Ten jumps bare minimum from the 'known' pirate regions near the Taurian Concordat, and thirteen from the Tortuga Dominion, Gulkana wasn't so much a target for actual pirates as they were opportunistic raids from their neighbors disguised as pirates. There was a distinct lack of 'black water' presence in the interior of the Crucis March due to the Draconis and Capellan Marches getting all of the combat dropships and aerospace fighters. This meant while it was possible for a legitimate pirate faction to hop from system to system with virtually everyone none the wiser, it just wasn't economically feasible for buccaneers to make such a journey. It would be a journey too long for what they might be able to gather in their raid, and they wouldn't pass up the closer periphery worlds to try and grab what little Gulkana did have.

No, it was far more likely that there were 'rogue' militia units from neighboring systems disguised as pirates who would hop into the system and try to grab what they could to enrich their own system before jumping back out. I would need to see a complete list of the raids that Gulkana has historically suffered, along with the opposition's force composition as well as what was targeted before I could make any solid educated guesses. Though there was something about this whole situation that was tickling my brain; it was on the tip of my tongue as I feel like I remembered something like this happening before in my memories but the details eluded me.

Even still, those were just details.

Ultimately window dressing, because the problem was twofold: the coup itself and the politics that would keep the First Prince's hands tied unless Miss Solas' father, the Duke of Solas, asked for assistance.

After roughly fifteen minutes to think it over, I couldn't really see a purely political way of solving this.

I could petition the Ducal Courts and drag everyone away from their Duchies to call a quorum vote on how to handle the situation because it was pretty evident that there were some serious Crucis Pact rights violations going on... or so the Duchess says. The old saying goes: 'Trust but verify'. We needed to be absolutely certain that this was going on, but the only way to do that was to actually investigate. The First Prince couldn't exactly send MIIO out on this alone, as there was a veritable flood of fraudulent court cases that the various levels of the Federation's courts had to wade through, so it would honestly be up to us.

Though given my dearly beloved, beautiful, sexy, and very nosy Spy Wife brought this to my attention it meant that her nose— which she assured me was distinctly tuned to sniff out espionage— was catching a whiff of something that wasn't right. Hell, I was certain that there was something more going on with this, and I wasn't even a spy! Just... professionally paranoid.

The only question is just how far would the Heiress be willing to go to see this through?

When I raised my eyes from my coffee I wasn't surprised to see all three women staring at me expectantly; I couldn't see Miss Arapado since she was standing behind me, but I was sure she was staring at the back of my head in anticipation. "I think I might have something, but I first need to ask you a question: What are you willing to do to see this threat removed from your home?"

Her spine stiffened for a moment, but thankfully I didn't get any reproachful looks from my wife or Countess Achernar. "I am willing to do a great deal, Duke Corean, though I don't think I'd say 'anything' without knowing what it is you might be planning. I have certain lines I will not cross."

"Good." I nodded as I set my coffee cup on the saucer in front of me, "I just need you to sell me fifty-one percent of Yeffters Weapons."

Her eyes widened slightly in shock before her brows furrowed in confusion, "Why would... you need to do that? I mean, I am not opposed if it would resolve the situation, but how would that help?"

Well, it wasn't outright rejection, so that at least told me that she was being sincere; if this was a ploy on her part then she would have likely of vehemently disagreed with the prospect of selling any part of her company.

"It would help twofold." I raised my left hand and held up a finger, "Firstly, the armaments landscape is rapidly changing. Those Mydron autocannons that you're producing are going to go extinct in the next few years, so with my purchase of the controlling stake of Yeffters it opens you up to investment from me so that you can produce my weapons and designs. This will include Battlemechs, Aerospace fighters, Tanks, the works; you name it, and with me holding that stake your people will be able to produce it."

I held up the second finger, "Secondly, with such a large purchase... I am naturally going to want to have my workers, admin personnel, accountants, lawyers, and of course my security personnel go out and inspect the premises. I won't send them in alone, and they'll have some serious mercenary support to go along with them."

I resisted the urge to turn my attention to my Spy Wife, "And I'm certain that MIIO will be more than happy to use that to smuggle a team of their best fact finders onto the planet to ferret out what exactly is going on down there. However, that depends on the First Prince and how he feels about it, but I think I might have the means to convince him given what you've provided."

Sam coyly reached up and adjusted her non-prescription glasses with a finger.

"And... after this is all said and done you'll return control of the company to me?"

I inhaled slowly and nodded, "Yes and no. 'Yes', in that control will be returned to you, but 'no' in that you'll have the majority stake returned to you. At least until I'm certain that Yeffters-Corean will be able to stand on its own two feet. Given your isolation from outside events, you likely don't know this like most of the Federated Suns corporations, but the economic landscape is going to be changing drastically in the years to come. Simply buying controlling shares of Yeffters only to sell them back to you wouldn't accomplish much of anything; if we don't shore up the smaller businesses then it's quite likely that they'll be drowned out by our new competition."

Her head pulled back, and her long, graceful neck seemed as though it was elongating. "What... competition?"

Her abject confusion was palpable, and Countess Achernar gently patted her hand, "Oh dear, you don't know this, but the Federated Suns is going to be joining hands with the Lyran Commonwealth."

Her face scrunched up. "What?"

[Dr. Jorge Belasco]

"—And I'm pleased to announce that we here at Corean Enterprises have come up with a more durable fusion engine."

"Not an XL Fusion Engine, my boy?"

"No, Doctor Beauford, fortunately not."

"Fortunately? What does that mean? Extra light fusion engines are a boon my boy!"

"Yes, a boon. In getting your Battlemechs and tanks blown up more quickly. However, I'm not going to get into that whole argument, not here. Ha-hem. Regardless, we have come up with a better-performing radiation shielding utilizing a new alloy composition, and this has allowed us to cap the fusion engine with a dense shell comprised of andosteel and ferro fibrous armor. This allows the fusion engine to take almost double the amount of damage an un-capped engine can sustain while still massing the same. Going forward this will be the standard for all Corean fusion engines... and of course, I'm willing to license out the design."

Doctor Jorge Belasco had been a scientist for NAIS ever since the First Prince conceived of the idea— before the first shovel full of earth had been moved on the NAIS campus on New Avalon, the good doctor had been a part of the research and development staff. Before the first bricks were laid down, and the first globs of ferrocrete were spat onto the gravel, the good doctor had been in the secret tunnels within the mountains scratching out calculations onto a whiteboard with dozens of others by LED lights hanging by string. He had participated in a dozen projects that the First Prince had delivered to them, and personally led the teams of a half-dozen more projects to follow.

Project Phoenix had been his baby since the very beginning, an ambitious project that sought to recreate the famous technologies of the Star League and bring with it a rebirth for the Federated Suns. Not only was his program in charge of designing two new Battlemechs— an up-tonned Wasp and Griffin chassis— but his team was also in charge of developing an improved gyroscope system for them as well as crafting superior jump jets and recreating Double Heatsinks. From 3015 to 3022, he had been at the very top of his game, with an entire program under his control that would one day put his name in the history books, but in the end, it was all for naught.

The Black Widow Company of the Wolf's Dragoons had assaulted his family's secret facility on Hoff and smothered Project Phoenix in its crib. Though in truth his decline had been a long time coming, as his Double Heatsink and improved Gryo programs were spun off to different projects with a team that could dedicate themselves to them, and his Improved Jump Jets program was on the chopping block as well. He needed his Super Wasp and Super Griffin projects to work, and in order for those to meet their project goals the Improved Jump Jets needed to work as well. They did, after a fashion, but with their only functional prototypes destroyed along with the Battlemechs they were attached to by Kerensky's raiding force... Project Phoenix was dead.

And through it all, he had to deal with the rather unusual individual that was Arthur Corean... at least until he could finally get him shuffled off to another project to bother someone else.

When Jorge was first introduced to Arthur Corean in 3018, the lad had been only twenty-one years old, and he looked distinctly out of place among the other researchers in Dozen-Two who were all middle-aged or graying; at that time students weren't allowed to be a part of the more secretive programs of NAIS, yet for some reason he was there. It turned out he wasn't there without reason, as the boy already had his master's certificate in six different disciplines of study: Structural, electrical, mechanical, and Battlemech engineering as well as metallurgy and programming. Jorge thought someone upstairs had been playing a joke on him when the young man listed out his qualifications and why he was on Project Phoenix... but after doing some double-checking he learned that someone wasn't yanking his chain.

The boy was blisteringly intelligent and exceptionally hard-working, but he was also quite opinionated— something that more often than not rubbed the other big personalities the wrong way. Almost every argument he got into with someone invariably ended up with Arthur Corean slapping a full white paper, cited and sourced, on the desk of his previous verbal sparring partner; for the topics of discussion that were more theoretical in nature that didn't have a knowledge base to draw from the lad did his best to articulate his position. What made it worse was that more often than not the boy was right, even if his felled foe didn't want to admit it; it likely wouldn't have been as much of an issue if Arthur was as gracious in victory as he was in defeat.

When someone could stick a solid, well-reasoned or cited rebuttal between his ribs the kid could nod and admit his loss, but since he won more often than not the others didn't get to experience that particular satisfaction very much.

In the end, the boy's attitude was causing issues, and as much as it pained Jorge to do so he had to have him moved; as brilliant as Arthur Corean was, the lad was still a student, and thus his actual working hours within the Egg Carton per week numbered less than twenty. For all the young scientist was a valuable member of his team, Jorge had to admit that it was certainly easier to breathe without Arthur around. He did a stint on the Super Wasp and Griffin structural design teams, then was moved to the advanced Gyro team, then the Improved Jump Jet team, and finally in a last bid to hopefully get through to the kid he stuck him under himself and the Freezer team.

Wherein the boy turned right around and handed him a three hundred and thirty-nine-page essay on why the corrosive coolant that Doctor Belasco's team was using was doomed to failure if it continued in the direction it was going.

It felt like a stab in the back, and so Jorge had no issues in pawning him off onto another project as soon as he could.

It had been reactionary on his part. Looking back at the situation with the benefit of hindsight, every little dust-up that Arthur Corean got into with his peers within Project Phoenix had felt like a personal attack. It wasn't Doctor Ambrose, Doctor Xulien, or Doctor Vern that the boy was picking a fight with— it was Doctor Jorge Belasco himself because the project was his and the other scientists were going in the direction he was telling them to go. So when the Double Strength Heatsink program he was personally heading was immediately challenged by the lad within just a few days of him joining up and getting read in... it had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

Could the boy have been more tactful? Yes, he could have, but in the end, two years later, everything that the boy predicted would happen in the essay would end up happening. The corrosive coolants would prove to be incredibly dangerous for technicians to handle. The corrosive coolants would eat away at the heat sinks and their supporting equipment to the point where not only the heat sinks and coolant lines would need to be replaced, but the weapons attached to them as well. This made the difficult-to-swallow cost of replacement balloon to the point where the AFFS couldn't stomach any more of it and they canceled the Double Strength Heatsink program entirely.

Without a single success to show for all of his hard work, Doctor Belasco was given a 'lateral' promotion while Project Phoenix was shut down; the only bright spot on it all was that his research was used to further other projects, such as the... ill-fated Prototype Double Heatsink program that sprung up afterward.

Now, here he was, seven years later and he was now a captive audience to Arthur Corean as a stand-in for his sister since the Countess of Hoff couldn't exactly make the journey on such short notice.

Not that it was necessarily a bad thing. He could see that Arthur Corean had grown quite a bit as both a man and as a person, but the time and distance had also given Jorge the space he needed to do some self-examination. The paper that the boy had given him did indeed strike him right in his soul, but if he had just dug into the pages beyond the surface level and tried to see it from his perspective... how different might things have gone?

The old man softly snorted to himself.

He really should have been paying better attention, because at the front of the large conference room, Arthur Corean was nowhere to be seen... and in his place stood First Prince Hanse Davion in all of his finery.

"Thank you for that little distraction while I was finishing up business, Arthur. I only caught the tail end of the presentation, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say that a more durable fusion engine without any downsides other than a slightly higher cost will be most welcome." The First Prince stripped his white gloves off of his hands and tucked them behind the wide white belt that hugged his waist. "First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for coming today. This is normally a very busy time of year for me with the Seasonal Court at the Fox Den, but with my impending wedding, it has been incredibly trying. So having you all venture here to Corean Enterprises to meet with me is most humbling."

"First things first: I am happy to tell you all that the first round of testing has begun on the Battlemechs everyone has put forward for the Periphery Protection Initiative. The twin designs from Corean, General Motors, and Achernar have all been received along with their crews and spare parts, and over the next six months they'll undergo rigorous testing to determine the victor." Hanse Davion clasped his hands behind his back and straightened himself to his full height, "And with that in mind, I would like to announce that the next phase of the PPI will begin in twelve months' time, and this time it will be for a new series of Combat Vehicles. Given these won't be off-the-shelf solutions like the Battlemechs are, we're only expecting basic designs and mock-ups for the initial entry. The details of the program requirements will be announced on August 1st, and of course, will be made available upon request."

Jorge could see the various corporate representatives have silent conversations with their eyes as the Prince looked around the room.

"However, that is not all. After speaking with my Privy Council at length, we have decided that it would be prudent to expand the PPI further. We will be building an entire stable of Battlemechs and combat vehicles that will be used exclusively by the System and Planetary Militias of the Federated Suns and Lyran Commonwealth."

Those words seemed to cause a bit of a stir, and a spindly-looking man with a bald head and thick glasses raised a hand, and when the Prince nodded he cleared his throat. "Ahem. Balric Clearwater, representing General Motors. My Prince, what do you mean by 'exclusively used' by the Militias?"

"It means exactly what you think it means, Mister Clearwater. There will always be some overlap between the AFFS and Militias, and that is because there is no one battlefield unit or force composition that is truly superior to all others. So after many, many years of exploration and study... we have come to the conclusion that one of the best ways to better serve the Outback, and Periphery systems of the Federation is to reduce the co-mingling of production and supply chains." The First Prince gave the GM representative a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders, "While I don't have the myriad of charts and graphs with me that the Departments of Military Administration, Communications and Research, Strategy and Tactics, and the Department of the Quartermaster have created... I can tell you that we have come to the startling discovery that planetary militia units that fielded non-standard 'Mechs and Combat Vehicles often have a higher readiness and a higher likelihood of success in repelling raids than units that more closely mirrored AFFS combat units."

"It is all rather obvious in hindsight, but the AFFS always has logistical priority for replacement parts and equipment, with emergencies often seeing planetary militia garrisons stripped of their inventories to see Regular units repaired." A breathy sigh left the man's lips as his shoulders sagged, "This has happened under the administration of myself and my brother, just as it has our father, and his father before him. Even if the parts and weapons taken from the Militias were eventually replaced by the AFFS, the fact that it was taken to begin with is a practice that I do not wish to see happen any further. So... to make that happen we will be crafting a large catalog of Battlemechs, Combat Vehicles, Aerospace and Conventional fighters, and the like for militias to add onto their TO&E that will not have a basis in the AFFS going forward."

"It will likely take many decades for these changes to be truly seen across the Federated Suns, but if we don't start now then they'll never be seen." The Prince raised his head and looked at the Mister Clearwater, "Does that answer your question?"

"Ah, yes it does. Thank you, My Prince." The man adjusted his glasses before nodding.

"Excellent." Hanse Davion clapped his hands lightly before gesturing to the side, "Now then, since this is to one day be a conjoined effort, our allies in the Lyran Commonwealth have provided to us three Assault weight chassis to add to the list of Battlemechs I wish to see start filling the stables of planetary militias all across the Periphery and Outback."

There was a few startled gasps as the conference room table they were all seated around 'sparked' to life and lit up, revealing that the simple looking table was actually a holotank. A holotank! These were exceptionally rare, with only a few handful of examples in the Federated Suns that were still operational, and yet Corean Enterprises had a holotank in a conference room? When? How? Doctor Belasco was astonished, and he could see that he wasn't the only one feeling this way as a dozen pairs of eyes looked on in no small amount of wonder. A holographic window appeared to float above the glassy surface before it resolved into a simple list— a roster of Battlemechs.

There were plenty of familiar names on it, but three among them stood out the most— two of them was because he had been the one who designed them, and the other because it had a reputation. And not a good one.

"Now, to get ahead of things, for the Marauder we seek to have a dedicated production and supply chain for militia units, so while it won't truly be exclusive like the other Battlemechs on this list the equipment lists and accompanying technologies will be different enough that poaching shouldn't occur for militia storehouses. Secondly, I'm sure you're all aware that there are a number of long-extinct Battlemechs on this list— some of which had sterling reputations, such as the Crab and King Crab, and another like the Rampage here which was synonymous with Stephan Amaris himself." Hanse Davion looked over the assembled representatives with his hands clasped behind his back, "Of course, the Rampage won't exist as its current incarnation, but we have the design plans and within this very room, we have the know-how to change it into something we can use to defend the people we have all pledged to protect. Does anyone disagree with this assertion?"

A hand came up next to Doctor Belasco, and he turned his head to see an elderly woman wearing a modest black dress with a thick shawl draped over her shoulders. "Katrel Evans, here representing Universal Air. I may not be in the business of Battlemechs like my contemporaries here, but I cannot imagine that Stormvanger Assemblies and Cosara Weaponries will part with the design plans for the Javelin, Crab, and most certainly not the King Crab..."

"I think you'll find that I care little for the expired patents of Terran corporations that are functionally extinct themselves. The primary reason we don't resurrect most of the lost designs is simply because we've forgotten how, and not so much the legalities of it all; there is no Star League to handle patent infringement disputes, and while ComStar likes to believe it has such powers it does not. If the Draconis Combine was to reverse engineer our designs tomorrow ComStar would not lift a finger to stop them, and the same could be said if the Capellan Confederation or Free Worlds League did the same. The only stipulation these days is if you can build it or not," The First Prince's smile was a touch frosty, "And whether or not you can defend the new facilities that you built. So I wouldn't worry too much about Stormvanger or Cosara; if they wish they can cope and seeth silently on Terra."

Jorge blinked.

'Cope and seethe'? That was an Arthurism if he'd ever heard one. Unbidden, the old NAIS scientist leaned forward slightly in his chair and began looking around the conference room to see where the lad had run off to... which was something that ended up catching the First Prince's attention.

"Ah, Doctor Belasco!"

Jorge's head snapped to the Prince, "Yes, Prince Davion?"

"I think you noticed that your Super Wasp and Super Griffin designs were on the list, yes?" The First Prince brought his hands in front of his waist and rubbed them together lightly, "Well, I think that it is time we took another crack at those two designs, don't you?"

Of all of the things he expected to hear, that wasn't among them, yet he felt his spirits lift immediately.

"I would be thrilled to work on them again, My Prince."

"Excellent! Given NAIS already has its hands full with other projects, I am requesting that a joint team between General Motors, Achernar, and Corean be created to see these two Battlemechs to completion. Given the rapid prototyping facilities available here at Corean Enterprises, it will be based here. I trust that this won't be a problem with all parties?"

Doctor Belasco dipped his head, "No, of course not. I will be more than happy to have a second chance to bring the Super Wasp and Super Griffin back to life."

Another hand was raised, and the First Prince held out his hand, and the man introduced himself. "Douglas Vein, representing Salvatore Incorporated."

The man's identity made Jorge blink a touch, as Salvatore Incorporated was one of the most difficult companies to work with in the Federated Suns. They have always had a Board of Directors that was staunchly independent, not wanting anything to do with the Federation outside of pure business. This has persisted even as their portfolio of Aerospace products has continued to shrink over the centuries, much like their profits, and Jorge was convinced that the board members were all secretly Taurians in disguise. As far as he knew there had been a long-standing offer given to them by the AFFS to help pay for updates and modernizations of their facilities on Layover but the offer has never been outright rejected... just consistently ignored.

They seemed to think that the Federated Suns would force them to sell their facilities to Federated-Boeing or some other large aerospace corporation, which was just laughable in Jorge's opinion.

"We are a maker of Dropships and other void craft. It is all we have done since even the days of the Star League, but the Board is... unsure of the idea of expanding into Battlemechs and other Combat Vehicles. Especially since we don't have any expertise in those areas and would be... forced to rely on outside assistance in order to build what you ask."

The Prince hummed before placing his hands on his hips.

"I think you'll find that the current business climate is more about fostering goodwill and cooperation than direct competition, Mister Vein. If your board doesn't wish to expand out from their current portfolios then I am not going to force it, and neither is anyone else here. Salvatore Incorporated is free to stay in its lane and produce dropships and other small void-capable craft." That seemed to mollify the man, but the First Prince's addition made his expression grow sour. "However, this independence doesn't come without a cost of its own— if Salvatore doesn't want to work with anyone here, then don't expect anyone else here to be directed to assist your company in modernizing later on down the line if you change your mind."

Another hand came up, and the First Prince actually smiled.

"Ah, yes, Countess Jaffey? Lovely to see you by the way; do remind me after this meeting and we'll schedule tea."

The woman needed no introduction to the industrialists at the table, and even the scientists present knew the face and name of Countess Tyrell Jaffey, the CEO of Lycomb-Davion Introtech.

"Tea sounds wonderful, My Prince." She tittered lightly behind a black-gloved hand, "Now, while I am very excited to hear about the new, or soon-to-be-resurrected Battlemech designs, what is the Aerospace side of the house looking at in terms of supplying Aerospace and Conventional craft for the Periphery Protection Initiative?"

Jorge cleared his throat before shifting in his chair, the man grabbing the bottle of water in front of him to sip at; he was rarely in these sorts of meetings, but he had to admit that it was rather interesting!

"I'm glad you asked."

The next holo-slide appeared.

"As you can see, the aerospace side of the house is a bit thin at the moment, but we believe that we have settled onto a simple but elegant solution for our militia forces. Three fighters ranging from thirty to ninety tons should fill out the tonnage brackets with flexible assets. Since the AFFS has almost completely phased the Centurion fighters out of our inventory— barring a half-dozen or so squadrons still flying about here and there— there are four-hundred and thirty-seven of these craft in active militia service. These too were going to be eventually phased out of their TO&Es because there simply wasn't anyone producing parts for them anymore, that was until Arthur Corean purchased Jalastar's moth-balled Centurion line." The First Prince glanced off to the side, "Arthur, care to say a few words?"

From the side of the conference room, Arthur Corean pushed off the wall and stepped forward to stand next to Hanse Davion.

"The Centurion is in my estimation an outstanding aerospace fighter, especially for the year it was developed. Unlike most of its void-born kin, it can actually fly in an atmosphere with good stability even at low airspeeds. This gives it very good angles of attack, and it is an excellent dogfighter in the one-circle or two-circle compared to most of its competition, which makes it actually able to compete in radius or rate fights even against most Conventional air-breathing craft that usually has the advantage." He crossed his arms over his chest, his ice-blue eyes scanning over the crowd, and Jorge felt like he was working with the boy all over again because he always did that when he was 'explaining' something to someone else. "I think this design is an asset given its speed, armor, range, and weaponry, and after its many centuries of service... I think I can breathe new life into it. While my SCMF for it was just recently finished, we're currently focusing on building up an inventory of spare parts to ship out to receiving units before we start producing new airframes for sale. We are also already developing refit kits that will incorporate our technology for new cockpits, targeting, communications, and of course armor and weapons packages."

Countess Jaffey's eyes narrowed and she tilted her head slightly, like a large bird of prey gazing at an interesting mouse. "Have you automated it yet?"

While the woman's shrewd look would have made most others nervous, Arthur Corean appeared unflappable at her scrutiny, which was an interesting change because when he was younger he used to always fidget uncomfortably. Even when he was in the midst of a verbal jousting match with one of his fellow scientists.

"July of next year is when we're looking at automating the line. Jalastar has been kind enough to lend me a small team of engineers and foremen to help train my people on how to build everything by hand, as one of the most important steps in automating a process is learning how to make the damn things in the first place." He gave her a slight smile, "After that, however? We'll be making refit kits for every Centurion in operation, and then likely producing new variants for sale; I see a lot of potential in the aircraft, and it pains me to only see it armed with a triplet of Medium Lasers. I think I can do better."

"Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, Duke Corean."

"Not a problem."

When Arthur stepped back, the First Prince resumed his speech. "Given this is a joint program, Lockheed-CBM has graciously donated the specifications and tooling requirements for their old Typhoon fighters, just as we have the Centurions via Arthur's generous donation. It is an older design, but much like the Centurion it has excellent atmospheric performance, and once we put our heads together I think we can come up with some effective variants that will fulfill the needs of any planetary militia—"

The rest of the meeting went about as quickly as Jorge expected, and while most of it was industrialist talk that was far outside of his wheelhouse, he did make sure to pay close attention to what was said so that he could relay it to his sister when he sent a sealed message to her via courier.

Doctor Jorge Belasco might not have managed to succeed in getting his Project Phoenix off the ground the first time around, but maybe this time the... Phoenix could rise from the ashes?

The thought of seeing his life's work come to fruition bolstered his spirits and made the drive home to the NAIS campus that much more enjoyable.

A/N: Finally done. It doesn't have all of the stuff that I wanted to include in this chapter, but unfortunately I didn't feel like holding it back and trying to fight it all would be conducive. Almost a whole month since the last chapter, but overall the Christmas and New Years holidays were more than a bit busy, and having time to sit back and thoroughly review this chapter and make revisions did it some good, I think. We get to see Arthur's famous Scientific Batchall to Kerensky, see some interesting habbenings that people in the Crucis March didn't even know was habbening, and we also get to see some of Arthur's past experiences in NAIS via Dr. Jorge Belasco's POV. Bonus points to those who can properly finger who the culprit behind the whole Gulkana situation might be.

Hope you enjoyed!

P.S. I also had the Supercharger misread, so I'll be fixing those record sheets featuring them accordingly. In my defense the Supercharger "doubles the walking speed of the 'Mech", which makes it sound like it would also allow you to Sprint at the new speed. However, after doing some deep dives and digging, I found out that the Supercharger does "double the walking speed", but that new speed replaces the running speed.

So a Mech with a 4/6/0 movement profile with a Supercharger would have it's speed actually 4/6(8)/0. It isn't 4 (8)/6(12) that I thought it was. So it does make the Supercharger less appealing overall, which means it is no longer a 'Must Pick' for any Corean Battlemech depending on its engine rating, tonnage, and mission profile, but that's fine too. To be frank, I had thought that the Supercharger was a little bit strong, but that is a mistake of my original understanding of the equipment.