Kamea growled as she faced down the enemy in front of her.
She had trained under Raju Montgomery, one of the best MechWarrior's in this side of the Periphery – the man was a veteran of many battles, and a great teacher for both her and Victoria, teaching them in gunnery, piloting, and how to be a truly noble MechWarrior rather than some thug.
Yet all of that tutoring was of no help against the obstacle that she now faced.
"You know, time is a factor in this sort of scenario as well." Malmsteen pointed out plainly.
"I know." Kamea said curtly as she wracked her brain, the board in front of her stubbornly refusing to change its layout.
The premise was simple: An in-depth wargame, with the Aurigan Coalition as the focus. She, was House Arano – leading the Aurigan Coalition.
Captain Malmsteen, was leading the opposition – a disparate pirate alliance, coming to raid and plunder. However, he was also managing the forces of House Espinosa, Karosas, and the other members of the Founding Council – because, in such a conflict scenario, she wouldn't have the authority to just order their forces around on her command.
To his credit, he wasn't stonewalling her with every move – House Espinosa, for example, was almost always moving in lockstep with her deployments, Malmsteen even offering her some advice now and again to improve their coordination.
But the other Houses… the threat was coming from the patch of unclaimed space between the Magistracy of Canopus and the Aurigan Coalition, so the burden of the threat fell unevenly on the Houses of the Reach. Some units were cooperating with hers as well, but others were instead focusing purely on their own affairs, using the time the other houses were buying to prepare themselves for the attack rather than sallying forth to relieve their fellows.
And the Houses closer to the Concordat border instead demanded concessions for their assistance, unwilling to raise arms to deal with a threat that didn't actually threaten them, and wouldn't be an existential threat except perhaps in the extremely long term. The Reach as a whole would be impoverished, but they would come out far better than the others.
She was tempted to accuse him of being intentionally obstructionist, but she knew better – every so often he'd check a set of notes he was using to ensure his various 'actors' were being played properly, and she wasn't always being stymied. As much as she hated to admit it, the man was playing 'fairly'.
She was just having to deal with having to corral a dozen different factions under her banner that refused to just do what was needed. If she could, she'd shake those little pieces and rant at them that all they would need was six months, a year or two at most, of full cooperation to permanently destroy the pirate threat Malmsteen was hounding them with… but she simply wasn't getting it.
Eventually she just grunted in disgust as she sat back in her seat. "… The Founding Council cannot be this obstructionist in reality." She protested.
"Much of this scenario was developed, word for word, act by act, by your father drawing from historical records int the Aurigan Reach." Malmsteen said plainly. "Not only are they this obstructionist, this is frankly reasonable compared to some of their other standards."
"Tch." Kamea glowered at the man. "And this is to convince me that it's in the Coalition's best interests to trample all over its founding principles? To sideline and smother dissident voices?"
"Bluntly speaking? Yes." Malmsteen said without a hint of shame. "Democracies and egalitarian systems of government are not intrinsically ideal forms of government, Lady Arano – it's just that they are some of the most hardened to minute numbers of bad actors corrupting the entire system and allows for people to… ugh."
He shook his head. "Actually, let's take a step back – why do you believe that the Aurigan Coalition's founding charter is so important? So sacrosanct? Why do you believe that its charter of ensuring that no one polity dominates the others, that all voices are heard, is so important?" He asked.
Kamea looked at the man as if he had grown a second head. "Isn't it obvious? To take power away from the people and vest it all in the hands of one man or one family is the mark of a tyrant – a ruler following in the footsteps of Amaris, turning their entire nation into their own personal playground, spending the lives of their people to build prosperity atop their bones. If the people are disenfranchised, deprived of the ability to have their voices heard by those in power, then they are little better than slaves, captive to those above them."
Malmsteen stared at her neutrally, before huffing. "Well, you've certainly got the speechmaking part of being a ruler down pat." He said with some amusement. "Lady Arano, if you think that democracies can't be just as corrupt, venal, and oppressive as autocracies, you'll be sorely disappointed – now, democracies are far harder to corrupt than autocracies. In autocratic governments, you gamble every time a new ruler takes the highest office – you can try to set down good succession laws and the like, but the fact is whether through violence, subterfuge or accidents, they are steered towards the aims of their leaders, whether for good or ill. Democracies are built around institutions and systems, larger than one person, and so even if the leader is a lunatic the people around them can contain the damage they do. They are hardened against bad governance."
"Then-" Kamea began before Malmsteen cut her off.
"But democracies can fall prey to the exact same dangers of corruption or subterfuge. More than that, for reforms autocracies are actually rather simple – you just need to get rid of a few people, or a lot of people as the case may be, but in general things are rather… clear cut." Malmsteen continued. "But corrupted democracies aren't helmed by just a few malignant individuals – their core institutions would have been broken down and degraded over a period of time, their issues would have become systemic, built into the bones of their political landscape. And it's far harder to solve systemic issues. Just look at the mess the Terran Alliance became."
"I don't believe that." Kamea shot back. "With good people and the will to make things right, any corrupt system can be changed to be better. With a smart and educated populace, no reforms would be impossible."
"Let's say this: The Aurigan Coalition has been reformed by a coup… let's just use House Espinosa, since they're closest. And, as I'm sure you're aware, your uncle very much wishes for your father to centralize power around himself." Malmsteen began. "Let's say House Espinosa takes power, abolishes the Founding Council, and declares himself Emperor Supreme of the Aurigan Empire, because we may as well go full tinpot dictator in this hypothetical. He crushes your subjects under new taxes, enacts oppressive laws criminalizing any form of dissent, and in general goes full Amaris."
"If you wanted to reform the Aurigan Reach back to what it was before, all you'd need to do is kill the man." Malmsteen said bluntly. "Kill him, kill his supporters, and use the power of the office you've taken by force of arms to enact whatever reforms you want – lower taxes on the poor, increase spending towards the rural regions of the Reach, start elections in various places if you wish for commoner representation rather than noble."
"Er-" Kamea blinked, thrown by the last aspect of the statement – as if bringing commoners into real government hadn't ever occurred to her.
To be fair, considering this place, it probably never has. "Now, let's say you're trying to reform a democratic system. You can't simply say 'this is how things are now' – you have to work within the confines of the system, and systems like these are resistant to change because no system is designed to fail. No government is going to break what allowed it to get into power in the first place. If there is a corrupt faction within your government, like a power bloc in the Founding Council enriching themselves at the expense of the Reach, you would have to organize a counter-faction to try and contest them within the limits of the Founding Council. But they already know how to exploit the systems and will block and impede any attempt you make to change them."
"But the people-" Kamea protested.
"Half the time the people are the ones who put them in power in the first place." Malmsteen explained patiently. "They are going to want this corruption to continue because true or not, they will believe it benefits them, and people would rather cut off their own noses than admit they were wrong. The other half usually don't care. Kamea, democracies rely on educated, active, intelligent populations, but people are idiots. Give them half a chance and they'll sign away their own rights and freedoms to the first smooth-talking con-man they meet. They don't care about justice or freedom or high-minded ideals, they mostly are just going to care about whether they have enough to eat, make rent, that sort of thing. And god help you if there is a crisis going on without a clear culprit."
"What do you mean?" Kamea asked, frowning.
"Let's say there's a disease outbreak on a world. Most people aren't going to be interested in learning that it was caused by improper food handling procedures at a collection of local factories alongside overuse of certain antibiotics creating cure-resistant strains of bacteria, or that perhaps water-filtration systems broke down due to lack of maintenance and mixed with sewage lines. They'll just point fingers at foreigners or a minority group and blame them." Malmsteen said.
"People can't be so foolish – this is a hypothetical."
"It has happened in history more times than I can count. I've looked over your education and it has been staggeringly broad and hasn't touched on many critical points that are necessary to understand this sort of thing." Malmsteen shot down sternly. "Most people want clear, easy, simple answers, even if the problems are complex – economics is the worst of it. Thousands upon thousands of potential factors impacting the economy, but a factory worker whose just lost their job doesn't want to spend ten hours listening to lectures trying to grasp how macroeconomics and large-scale trade networks have created circumstances where his local factory was no longer economical. He just wants something, or someone, to blame."
He scoffed. "Honestly I'm pretty sure half the reason why the Great Houses are always at war with each other is because it keeps people distracted from other problems rather than actually competing for the old throne."
"… so, you're saying that, what, the people need a firm hand?" Kamea asked slowly.
"The trite line of the tyrant throughout history. Really, though, more of a… protective hand, or a guiding hand." Malmsteen quipped. "You don't need to grind out all their liberties – there's a gradient between 'complete control over every aspect of your citizens lives' and 'complete anarchy where every citizen is asked for input on every decision you make'. But most people have jobs, Kamea. They farm, they make things, they clean, they cook, they run numbers or do any one of ten million tasks needed to run a large economy. Most of them don't have the time or the energy in their day to think about the intricacies of government."
"You just need to make sure that your people are as safe as possible, and that things within your lands are as stable as you can manage. So long as your people aren't struggling in poverty, so long as the economy is healthy, so long as you manage small issues like disease outbreaks or famines effectively, your people won't care what manner of government they live under." Malmsteen summed up.
"… in that case, allow me to ask you – why do you think that we cannot meet those criteria? Why do you think that a government based on cooperation between equals is untenable?" Kamea asked as her mind whirred.
"Beyond my natural cynicism? Well, there are several factors to consider – first, scale. Most people don't really care about things outside of their immediate sphere – but you, Kamea, will one day be responsible for tens of billions of lives living across the stars. Sometimes, you will need to pull resources from one side and invest it into another to deal with a crisis – and the side that has been left bereft won't be happy. Even for a good cause, they'll be detached from it because it's not affecting them. You can't bother yourself with listening to their whining when lives are on the line." Malmsteen pointed out. "And when lives are at stake in both instances… well, this is where the cold calculus of nation-building comes in. You'll have to make some rather cruel calculations in those cases, measuring what will ultimately save more people. Sometimes, you might have to condemn people to pirate raids to fend off a brutal invasion. Or condemn one world to starvation to ensure another's water supply doesn't run dry."
"Genuine democratic and egalitarian systems of government grow exponentially more difficult the larger you get – even on the scale of individual planetary nations, you start to see strains and factionalism. Let alone interstellar nations"
"…"
"Second, speed – democracies take time to respond to crises. You have to meet with others, discuss, debate, and ultimately come to mutually agreed conclusions – all that takes time. And if you're facing a crisis, then every second is valuable. Setting aside the matter of war, let's say that there is a disease outbreak on a world that needs large numbers of medical supplies. Well, who will be sourcing those supplies? Whose Jumpships will be transporting them? These discussions take time, and as you spend that time people will be dying."
"And lastly, the requirements of democracy – I said before that democracies need active, engaged populations, which are difficult to reach even in wealthy and secure societies. But they also need swift, easily accessible communications across the stars so that people can easily learn what's going on, see other viewpoints, discuss matters with others – this is something that the HPG's do not allow. So long as they are the framework for interstellar communications, true democracies are going to be downright impossible to manage effectively." Malmsteen summed up.
"…" Kamea sat back in her seat, looking down at the table.
She had little doubt that Malmsteen was telling the truth, or at least believed he was telling the truth. It wasn't something she wanted to hear, but every one of his arguments made sense – she had to wonder whether if she could make better counterarguments to his points if she were more learned, but much of his arguments and examples were rooted in ways she couldn't think of ways to counter.
"… a gradient?" She asked after a long minute.
"Yes. You do want to give your people liberties, otherwise they will make their displeasure known quite terminally – from the smallest civilians to your major constituent powers in the Founding Houses, you do need to give them some slack. But you also need to have the ability to tighten that leash if you need to." Malmsteen summed up.
It rankled her, to compromise on a subject that involved civil liberties like this… but the wargame still sat before her, and she recalled how frustrating it had been trying to wrangle the other Houses to achieve something that would benefit the whole of the Reach, even if some would benefit more than others from this compared to the effort exerted.
If this was what her father and Lord Espinosa had to deal with constantly, not just in piracy but in other fields as well, although she wasn't sure where else the Founding Council could be so obstructionist, then perhaps a small measure of centralization wouldn't be such a bad thing.
She refused to commit to such a thing, though – not until she thought on the topic some more. And tried to do some more reading on her own. Perhaps Comstar could be of some help there, finding political treatises and histories beyond that of the Star League era.
"… let us continue. I would like to see how far I can get without… invoking emergency powers, like the Free Worlds League." Kamea said as she turned her attention back to the board.
"Of course."
Jessica was beginning to regret asking for a change of pace in the simulators.
Once word had gone out that it was just to 'stress test' them and that they were never expected to win, some MechWarriors had been understandably disgruntled, but others took it as a challenge instead, going into the sims with the intent to try and do as much as they could and boast about their scores to each other. Numbers of enemy tanks, Mechs, turrets eliminated, that sort of thing.
It helped that the last few simulations had been giving them proper support, too – plenty of artillery companies laying down the hammer on enemy strongpoints, lots of infantry backing them up and pouring indiscriminate fire across the field, even makeshift field facilities to get their BattleMech's repaired and rearmed.
It might just have been simulations, but it made them feel like they were taking part in the great battles of the Amaris Civil War, or the First and Second Succession Wars in a way.
Somehow, they had returned to being children playing pretend again, although some of them had actually grown up around Mechs to begin with.
Then, one day, she had asked 'Captain Malmsteen' when he had come down to check their results whether he could develop other simulations as well, perhaps more exotic or interesting ones. Less realistic perhaps, even less so than the simulations they were currently fighting in, but still.
He'd actually said yes – the simulations could be programmed for all sorts of nonsense truth be told, and if they wanted to try something… different, then he'd oblige them.
In retrospect, she really shouldn't have asked a commanding officer to surprise them with a new form of training and drill.
"Oh holy hell! Big rig incoming!"
"Damn it – Arbiter, it's on you!"
"Crap, crap, cra-!"
With a thunderous crash the massive machine slammed into Arbiter's Hunchback, knocking it flat onto its back as it powered through the desperate AC/20 shot, Jessica – callsign 'Glitch' – winced as she saw the massive grinders tearing apart the machine from the legs up as it began to consume the BattleMech, even as the swarming drones around their feet converged on the stricken machine, tearing it apart with their cutters.
The mission briefing had been pretty simple: 'There is a Star League research facility and manufacturing base dedicated towards experiments with drones and automation. However, programming errors have led to the base's primary computer viewing anything and everything as raw materials to be harvested for the factories to continue pumping out more drones.'
'If any of you are aware of the paperclip maximizer though experiment, this is basically that. Your objective is to destroy the facility.'
They quickly figured out that there were three types of drones being manufactured here – the first, some kind of basic harvester drone that didn't even have armor, let alone guns. A burst from a machinegun was enough to drop it.
But the damn things were fast, and there were so many of them – and once they got in close, they'd use their manipulator arms along with an industrial strength cutter to begin tearing apart their BattleMechs from the feet up, one tiny chunk at a time. They could step on them, but even as the foot came down to crush a bunch of the tiny little things more around the edges would cling on to begin ripping and tearing.
'Brother''s Firestarter had been an utter godsend for dealing with them, clearing out huge swathes with its flamers and giving them space to cool down their Mechs, but they simply weren't being given any time to repair or restock. All of their ammunition-based weapons were already out, long-dry after several minutes of nonstop action, and when the security drones had shown up with their Large Lasers he had quickly been eliminated.
Each security drone might only have had one Large Laser, but when there were twenty security drones and they had enough armor that retaliatory Large Lasers didn't put them down in one shot, even a fast light like the Firestarter could only survive so long when they just focus-fired on him.
And when he'd fallen, their forces were being ground down one after the other – lasers were just too inefficient to kill the masses of smaller drones shredding their legs, slicing out individual lines that did nothing to stop the oncoming horde, and the security drones constantly took potshots at their upper torso's.
And as they were already struggling, another new enemy type had shown up – some kind of massive mining rig, like a Saturn Harvester on steroids. It must have been over three hundred tons and designed to just bore through an entire mountain, complete with enough armor to survive things like cave-ins. Compared to like a million tons of rock, she supposed that even an AC/20 burst was peanuts.
They'd brought the entire company into this, and already over half of them had fallen in less than fifteen minutes of fighting.
To be honest we probably could have done a lot better if we'd fallen back first, those security drones are slower than an Urbanmech. Jessica groused internally as she kept fighting. Though, argh, then they'd probably have reached our base camp.
It was like the first simulations all over again in a way – they just weren't being given any time to rest, recuperate, restock. And it wasn't as if they didn't have backline support this time – they had field facilities that could repair BattleMechs and restock them with ammo.
But the drones just kept on coming, and they simply couldn't get even half a minute's worth of respite. Brother's Firestarter hadn't been enough to buy them that much time – he had to go above and beyond to buy them a couple dozen-odd seconds, let alone the several minutes it would have taken to run back, get new armor and ammo, and go back in.
Jessica yelped as she felt herself toppling, wincing as the sim-pod shook to simulate the fall as her Mech's leg and ankle actuators were chewed through, before she sighed and slumped in her seat as her cockpit went dark as her machine was killed.
It wasn't long before the others were getting out of their simpods as well.
"Uggh… we could really have used more infantry support there. Like, a lot more." Falcon groused.
"Yeah, they could have held the ground we were taking while we went back to get repairs." Dekker agreed.
"Would they have even helped? We were getting swarmed everywhere." Deadeye questioned. "Could they have held their ground against all that?"
"Against the big rigs, they'd need a lot of artillery, but those little cutter drones were dangerous because there were so many of them." Bootcamp replied. "Give them plenty of laser rifles, machineguns, flamers… they could have held for a few minutes at least. Our weapons were too big – we needed lots of little guns, not a few big ones."
Jessica just nodded wordlessly, only half-listening to Bootcamp's response as he went into more depth on how they could have won, or at least lasted a lot longer, if they'd had a battalion or two of infantry – he was probably right, he knew what he was talking about when it came to infantry tactics considering his background. She was still thinking on how they could have done better in their BattleMechs.
To be honest that had been kind of fun – draining, but fun as a change of pace. And it was putting them through their paces with learning how to cooperate better with infantry and the other little guys.
Still, she was just really, really glad that this was quite firmly in the realm of the 'what-if'.
"A new supply run already?" Malmsteen asked with a note of surprise.
"Yes, sir. Apparently they had some new supplies and additions that weren't quite ready in time to join the previous drop. Both additions to your own forces and gifts to the Aurigans." Yelena – one of his best Spectres – informed calmly.
The woman had been one of Stukov's elite guard, a survivor of the Psi Disruptor raid led by Duran, and upon the disbandment of her former unit following the Admiral's death had been tasked with hunting him down alongside a small number of other operatives. Apparently their orders had been to take him alive for trial as opposed to an immediate summary field execution – he supposed that DuGalle was a bit leery of writing him off right after killing the other ranking UED officer with the expedition.
Of course, the punishment for abandoning one's post in wartime in the UED was execution by firing squad, so it was a bit of a distinction without a difference.
Then DuGalle and the main fleet had died before they could actually find him, and when he came out of hiding the task force had swapped to falling under his command as he tried to rally what units he could in the face of the broods before they'd retreated to Deadman's Port.
"… hm. I do wish they'd have told me about this before, but very well. Let us go see what new materiel we are expected to use. I'll most likely have to rework some of my plans but it shouldn't be too disruptive." Malmsteen said prosaically as he stood up from his desk, Yelena falling in behind him. '… since you're here I may as well ask: any new insights from your training so far?'
'It's been interesting. I haven't yet tried focused targeting of myomers yet, but beyond dropping cockpit interiors to subzero temperatures or assisting in heat circulation for allies, I did some reading and I may be able to shut down fusion reactors remotely.' Yelena replied as she touched his mind – it could be difficult for a non-telepath to fully and ably articulate words when a telepath was reaching out to them, but it was a useful skill to learn if you had psionic agents on your staff.
Yelena could have just answered his half-formed thoughts directly, but she considered it rude. And it tended to give him a headache if it happened too often since he had to figure out what she was replying to then.
'… right, a BattleMech's engine temperature has to remain above a certain temperature to maintain the fusion reaction. If you could drop it below that critical point, it could disable the Mech.' Malmsteen observed. 'That's a rather extreme drop in heat, though – are you sure you're capable? And don't you need line of sight right now?'
'Yes, and well, I'm not sure – I'd need to try for myself, but it's hardly as if I need to drop it to 0 Kelvin. Just below the critical point where the reaction can no longer sustain itself. And the plasma may be hot but it's extremely low-density - most of a fusion engine's weight comes from containment after all. So, more training is needed to say anything on the matter.' Yelena said with a small shrug. 'Beyond that, it's been rather standard – lockdown missiles, targeting the pilot, focused telekinetic strikes on their interiors… we are still practicing, and we could use more field experience, but I do not believe BattleMechs will be a major impediment to our operations so long as the Spectre is even remotely competent.'
'And they can't detect you?' Malmsteen asked.
'Standard BattleMech sensors have proven unable. I do not know whether one of their Lostech 'Active' Probes could, however.' Yelena replied as they walked in outward silence towards the spaceport.
'If we can find one, we will have to test it.' A mental pause. '… will I get differing assessments from the others regarding how easy it is for a Psionic to disable a BattleMech? Those who didn't breach a Psi Index score of 9.5 before the Spectre treatments?'
'Well, if reliability is what you're worried about-'
'It is.'
'Hank reported that a psionic lash is still plenty to smash a Light into pieces, and delimb a Medium, and if he can do it then anyone can. That being said, he reports that he's not sure whether it'd be as lethal against a Heavy or an Assault. We haven't fought many of either out here after all.'
'I'm still amazed we've fought any.' Malmsteen mused as he sighed. 'I thought the Periphery was supposed to be a barren wasteland for any BattleMechs at all – yet we've still somehow run into working Heavy and Assault Mechs. Not many, but I wasn't expecting to run into them at all.'
'They weren't exactly in the best condition – they could have simply been centuries-old salvaged machines.' Yelena suggested.
'Perhaps, but I'm not convinced – if those things were that old they ought to have been taken into the Sphere proper by wandering mercenaries or other raids, or they should have been destroyed thanks to a lack of maintenance on their internals.' Malmsteen replied with a click of his tongue. 'I've asked both Lords Arano and Espinosa, but they inform me that this has been a growing quirk of the region in recent years. They believe that some local crime syndicate might have found a Star League cache, but they don't know for sure – whoever's pulling from it, is taking care to make sure that the golden goose isn't found.'
'Well, we'll try to keep an eye out for higher-ranking criminals. Once we get our hands on one, we can just pull the information from his mind."
'Mm. … and how has your practice been coming along?'
'Quite well, I'm happy to say. Since we've gotten the time to breathe somewhat I've had the opportunity to practice more frequently. And I've had the opportunity to listen to more pieces as well from across the Inner Sphere.'
'That's good to hear. … and here were are…' Malmsteen train of thought was derailed as they exited the palace and stepped out onto the spaceport's grounds as he saw what he had been sent.
"1st Lieutenant Diaz Gonzalez, reporting for duty Captain Malmsteen. I've brought elements of Haven's 1st Division and Dumassas's 1st Legion, to be temporarily folded under your command."
"… what the fuck?"